Forging Ahead

I've been busy making steady progress in assembling the miniatures needed for the first scenario in the War in Rohan: The Burning of the Westfold.

However, as well as the miniatures, in order to play this scenario I will also need something to burn. Actually, seven somethings.

Here's one...

I'm quite pleased with this little forge, as its largely constructed from stuff I had knocking around the house: coffee stirrers, tongue depressers (don't ask), cardboard and a scouring pad.

I'm particularly chuffed with how the scouring pad has come out as a thatched roof. The corners are a bit neat, so next time I do something like this, I rough it up before painting.

The back of the forge leaves a little to be desired, with a noticeable gap and a slight lean at the far end. I might add some bits and pieces round the sides, and maybe even put a rough patch on the gap, as if the blacksmith hasn't had time to fix it properly.

At the heart of the building is Mantic's Blacksmith's Forge Terrain Crate, adding so nice details to draw the eye away from the roughness of my building.

Once again, I had warping issues which refused to be totally fixed by hot water, particularly on the gorge itself, so I'm glad it's largely hidden. After the issues I faced with the market set, I'm now in a position of being quite unlikely to spend more money on Mantic Terrain, when I can probably get better quality elsewhere.

However, the smaller bits are really nice and make and add some much needed to detail to what could be a dull piece, and overall I'm delighted with it. It will work in Rohan and all sorts of fantasy settings, such as Rangers of Shadow Deep. What's more, should I ever play Saga again, I can use it there too.

Speaking of being delighted, do you remember these chaps from the last post, and the fact that I wasn't happy with them?

Well, I've recently been watching some live streams from Zorpazorp Gaming, who have a ton of Middle Earth related content on YouTube, and saw a suggestion to use GW's Typhus Corrosion technical paint on Uruk-Hai armour. And so I tried it.

It's really dulled down the metal and made it more grimy, and I'm much happier with it. So much so that I now want to go back to these and add a few more details like white hand insignia.

I'm not sure I'm going to do the same with the rest of my Uruk-Hai, as I was happy with them and it serves to make identifying the different types on the board easier.

Despite the fact that when I bought the Mantic Forge I counted it as six models, given that it wason last year's tally, I'm only calling this one model, as it is only one model. This is set against two character models that have arrived and the tally has stayed rather stable - althoughimm now at the end of the birthday money and so I'll start making headway again soon.

Acquired: 184

Painted: 173

The Tower of Tor Varden

From the chronicles of Brother Rendall...

After the encounter at the bridge, my companions and I, with the aid of the scroll Garvin had found, were able to slip past a couple of other hobgoblin patrols and reach the imposing edifice of Tor Varden. There were no guards posted outside, and very little indication of anyone inside. Then a muffled scream came from somewhere in the tower. It was a sign both good and ill. There was at least one man alive in Tor Varden, but we might already be too late to save him. We would need to move fast.

Wormtail's nefarious past proved useful to our goal, as he was able to silently pick the lock to the tower allowing Lord Venkh and Lady Shevarith to completely surprise the occupants of the tower.

The scene that greeted them was a gruesome one. Whatever the room once was, it had been completely transformed into a horrific workshop. The scattered furniture was covered in animal parts. In the centre of the room was a table, upon which lay a disgusting inanimate abberation, stitched together from the corpses of beasts and men. A hobgoblin shaman gibbered and muttered next to it, performing some foul and unholy rite. We could only presume he sought to infuse some sort of blasphemous half life into it.

Knowing the rite needed to be stopped, my master burst into the room like a thunderbolt, striking one of the shaman's guards dead before it could even respond.

Troughton and Garvin combined to bring the other one down, but not before the doughty Troughton had taken a stinging blow to the head.

The rest of us swarmed into the room, desperate to prevent the ritual reaching completion. I could sense the dark energies coalescing above the stitched-together monstrosity.

Just as the shaman's screams reached their feverish peak, he was silenced by a blow from my master's axe, and the foul corruption drained from the room. The ritual had been stopped.

However, there was no time to rest on our laurels, as the rest of the tower was surely stirring at the sounds of battle.

Lady Shevarith ordered Wormtail to dart forward and scout out the next room.

The door swung open to reveal some kind of storage room filled with boxes, barrels, crates, and hobgoblins!

Wormtail quickly ducked to one side, allowing his mistress to send a stinging bolt of magical energy through the doorway, crumbling one of the sloping shapes within.

Again, Venkh, Garvin and Troughton surged forwards, surrounding and bringing down another of the foul creatures. However, through the door I saw yet more rushing towards my master's unguarded back

I should not have worried. He spun round with lightning speed, bringing his mighty axe up in a fluid motion which caught the charging creature under the chin an split its head clean in two.

Shevarith lead the attack on the final creature in the room, bringing it down with a rain of blows, whilst the rest of us searched the room for clues as to what had happened here.

I found a scrawled note which seemed to be the feverish ramblings of a mad man, raving about the 'coming of the shadow knight'. I took no note of them and returned to our mission.

Wormtail was more fortunate, however, locating an enchanted philtre of fairy dust and passing it to his arcane mistress who would doubtless know how to make good use of it.

Poor old Nardol was struggling to keep up with our hectic progress, and puffed along behind us through the tower.

Eager to press on, my lord opened the door to the next chamber, revealing what must have been the tower's armoury, as the walls were lined with racks of weapons and armour.

To our dismay, four hobgoblin had availed themselves of these weapons and stood between us and the upper levels.

Seemingly having learnt something from the way Shevarith and Wormtail worked together, Master Venkh uncharacteristically stood to one side to allow Garvin to let fly an arrow through the doorway. Has aim was true and there was a gurgling yelp from a hobgoblin that was taken through the throat.

Then my lord's impetuous nature took over, trampling over one creature that sought to bar the doorway and barrelling on, ignoring barbed arrows flying towards him and ploughing into one of the archers, dropping it swiftly with furious hacks.

He then charged the last of the creatures, like a man possessed, but met his match in fury, as the desperate hobgoblin hacked back at him beating my lord back.

He was joined by Garvin and Troughton, but I have never seen such a furious defence as the hobgoblin put up. Clearly tiring from the wound he had taken earlier, Troughton was sent crashing into a pile of armour and lay still. Fortunately just unconscious.

Whilst this was happening, I was searching the room (I had assumed that there was no way a single hobgoblin could best my master and two companions). However, beneath a sword I found some fury leaves, the presence of which might go a long way to explain the desperate battle unfolding behind me.

Lady Shevarith has similarly assumed that the hobgoblin would be no match for Lord Venkh and had laid her hands on the tower captain's log, an item which would be of great value should we return to safety.

With Shevarith and I otherwise engaged, Wormtail watching the stairs fir attack from above, and Nardol lagging behind, it was left to my master and Garvin to finish off the frenzied hobgoblin.

I thought at one point that my master had fallen, but he had simply rolled with the enemy's blow. I uttered an incarnation of healing to aid him in his struggle and he seemed reinvigorated, clambering to his feet and finally cutting down his berserk opponent.

Pausing only to catch our breaths, patch our wounds, wake poor Troyghton, and wait for Nardol to catch up, we began to ascend the stairs to the beacon...

To Arms!

Quick post today. I've been basing and undercoating the next round of MotU figures, so I took the opportunity to finish off a couple of pieces from the Mantic Treasury Terrain Crate.

I've not done anything clever with these as I wanted to get them done quickly for a game of Rangers of Shadow Deep at the weekend, as one of the rooms we might encounter is an armoury.

They're not actually as good as the piles of gold, as the spear and halberd are very bendy and the nature of the soft plastic means that some areas are merged when they should be. However, as pieces of terrain for occasional use  they are fine.

I went with blue and red arms to match the main colours of my Bretonnian army, just because.

Anyway, they're done.

Acquired: 112

Painted: 89

The Bridge Guards

From the chronicles of Brother Rendall...

Is there to be no end to this?

Only hours after we arrived back from destroying the nests of spiders, Master Venkh received a message from his commanding officer. Contact has been lost with the beacon tower of Tor Varden, and it is presumed to have been overrun. We are commanded to proceed with all swiftness to Tor Varden to ascertain the truth. If the tower has fallen, we must learn what enemy forces now occupy it and harass or eliminate them as opportunity presents. 

We shall be accompanied once again by the Lady Shevarith and her retinue, Troughton and Wormtail. Nardol, the villager we rescued, has bravely offered to join our quest, but I fear the perils we shall face will be beyond him...in truth, I fear they will be beyond me.

.    .    .

As we made our way towards Tor Varden, the gentle, rolling hills slowly gave way to rocky woodlands, and finally into the boulder-filled dell known locally as ‘the Tangle’. It is an overgrown, unnerving place – a perfect site for an ambush as the large rocks and trees cut lines of sight down to just a few yards in most places.

Proceeding cautiously, we eventually heard the Enthel River, which we knew we must cross to reach Tor Varden. As we approached, however, we heard other noises as well, nearly drowned out by the river. Voices, of some inhuman type, a language filled with snarls and guttural grunts. 

Climbing to the top of a large boulder, keen-eyed Garvin got a clear view down to the river, and he reported that standing astride the old stone bridge was a knot of hobgoblins, and, judging by the large cooking pot they had set up by the fire, they were camped there to guard the bridge. Master Venkh predictably decided that there was nothing for it, the hobgoblins would have to be eliminated, as quickly and quietly as possible.

As we stealthily made our way through the undergrowth, our position was almost given away by another of those great, foul bats we had faced in the village, however, Lady Shevarith quickly and quietly brought it down with a blast of mystic energy.

However, the noise of it falling into the undergrowth must have been heard, as we spied some of the bridge guards cautiously approaching our position.

We were spotted though, and we split up to edge closer, trying to choose the right moment to launch our attack.

Indeed, Master Venkh managed to approach close enough that he said he could hear one of the beasts breathing.

With us about to lose the advantage of surprise, Shevarith launched the attack with a well placed magical bolt that shot through the trees and stuck the great brute on the bridge, that I took to be their leader, square in the chest.

In a move that was totally in character, and without thought for his own safety, Master Venkh charged out of hiding with a blood-curdling yell. Garvin took up a position to fire onto the bridge, whilst I looked on, foolishly standing in the open and only narrowly avoiding a grim fate as a crossbow bolt nicked my shoulder.

My master's charge somehow failed to bowl over his opponent, but succeeded in drawing the attention of the entire hobgoblin war party towards him.

However, this distraction allowed Troughton and Wormtail to launch their attack, hacking down one of the creatures from behind.

Despite having surprised our foes, we were surprised in turn as hobgoblin we were previously unaware of leapt from the undergrowth towards Shevarith and the foolhardy Nardol.

Things looked grim. Although my master had felled his initial foe, others, including the brute, had rushed to take its placed. I hurried forward to aid my lord, but we were sorely pressed.

Similarly, the Lady Shevarith and Nardol, neither of them overly skilled in melee wre kept from aiding the main fray by their surprise assailant.

After exchanging several blows, the brute succumbed to Master Venkh's axe.

My master then nobly rushed down the hill to draw enemies away from the stout hearted Troughton, who looked like he might be overwhelmed, because it seemed that Wormtail had deserted him and left him to fend for himself.

I can only imagine that the ill-mannered Wormtail had thought to loot the enemy camp for his own benefit, rather than stand with his comrades. If this was his goal, he did not benefit as he pitched forward when struck by a crossbow bolt, and did not move.

Seeing his 'friend' fall seemed to enrage Troughton, who cut through a swathe of foes to reach the fallen Wormtail. He must have discovered that Wormtail's wound wasn't mortal, as after a moment, he pressed on towards the bridge.

Meanwhile, Shevarith had finally got the better of her for, although the normally serene loremaster was battered and bruised. Nardol had bravely stood with her, but had succumbed to exhaustion and she kindly instructed him to take no further part in the fight.

It was at this point that I too was taken out of the fight with a blow to the head as I sought to aid my master. The last thing I saw as my vision swirled was Garvin rushing forward to aid a beleaguered Toughton.

I was later told that the last hobgoblin fell to Venkh's axe, whilst Troughton and Garvin searched the enemy camp, finding a scroll that seemed to detail the enemy dispositions and a potion that Garvin dutifully passed to our master.

Although we emerged victorious from this fray, it could have turned out differently. Only Venkh and Garvin came out relatively unscathed, Lady Shevarith and Troughton were both worse for wear, Nardol and I had succumbed to our exertions and Wormtail was badly wounded.

We can only hope that this battle would be the worst that we might face, but sadly, I fear that this will not prove to be the case.