Return of the… Thing (Part III)

Not a whole lot a description required around the above in-progress item: a Forge World Landspeeder Tempest. I snagged one because I’ve migrated back to a set of Astartes which can use one (Blood Angels renegade analog), and simply because I’ve always thought it was an amazing model. Now that I have one, I am seriously considering another.

Not a lot of warping or flash, easy to assemble. Highly customizable… just replace the nose-mounted Assault Cannon with your chosen flavor of death. Best part? You can easily “hide” the integrated Typhoon Launchers for those WYSIWYG lawyers. ‘Nuff said.

Second item for your perusal is the Forge World Mk.IVc Predator conversion kit.

Of all the bits, bobbles, and pieces-parts I have acquired from Forge World over the years, this is likely the only kit I would not recommend for purchase. There’s actually nothing “wrong” with the kit, and it’s a decent deal compared to the retail Predator (as you get a full Rhino hull as well as the resin portions) but the differences between the Mk.IVc and the Mk.IVb (the standard kit) are so minor as to be almost unnoticeable to all but the most discerning eye. In fact, from a distance of greater than perhaps a few feet it would be exceedingly difficult to spot dissimilarity between the Mk.IVc and the Mk.IVb with turret (FW) Extra Armor.

I would have killed for some comparison pix when I was considering the purchase... and after scouring the interwebz I simply couldn't find any which fully satisfied my curiosity. I've taken more than a few shots of the conversion kit for your benefit if you're debating. One good deed a month... that's my motto.


Summary: the Mk.IVc turret is slightly more streamlined, the hatch has a different offset, and the upper sponson supports blend more smoothly than the standard kit’s 90-degree angle.

All the above being said: being a discriminating (read: obsessive) hobbyist, I am fond of the kit’s aesthetic and have decided to utilize it to flesh-out the Predator Which Shall Never Be Completed. This did generate some of its own challenges as the resin is cast specifically to fit the included twin-linked Lascannons, and the Mk.Dryw will sport twin-linked Assault Cannons of the new Baal kit variety. Fitting the Assault Cannons into the turret itself wasn’t too difficult after some cutting and shaving, but I soon discovered that the IVc turret sits considerably lower in the turret ring than both the standard and Baal kit turrets due to shape (the standard Predator turret has more of a wedge shape on the underside). This was resolved by completely removing the IVc resin turret insert and adhering it firmly to a modified Razorback “turret”. This allows the IVc turret to sit high enough to provide 360° clearance over all the sensor spines, viewports, etc which exist on top of the Predator hull. Also gives the turret ring a bit more character/texture... an unintended boon.

I've added the Baal front plate from the new kit (very streamlined and smooth… I like this new piece a lot) and the IVc sponsons. Of interest: the width of  the IVc sponsons is notably less, even with extra armor installed, so when in-place there is a noticeable gap between sponson and hull. A bit of putty/green stuff may be required.

The Predator Which Shall Never Be Completed may soon require a name change.

Miracle of miracles.

…

Return of the… Thing (Part II)

Forge World: bane of my bank account. Hard to dispute they are the Ferrari of 40K vehicles. Thankfully I have yet to succumb to the temptation of a Lucius Pattern Jackal Warhound or a Marauder Destroyer… but I’ve come perilously close on multiple occasions. During those intense moments of weakness I’ve been able to satiate my consumer daemons with smaller digs into the wallet. My sole Macharius Vulcan was one of those stop-gaps. I don’t own an Imperial Guard army, but that meant nothing as I needed to own one of these beautiful pieces of machinery.

Initially I assembled it in standard configuration. Cool, but my incessant need to tweak & customize changed that in short order. A cloud of sanded resin dust and tube of CA later, I brought a “Macharius Vulcan Annihilator” into existence. Custom sponsons with Lascannons, a twin-linked Lascannon replacing the hull Stubber mount. Final result was a great looking model.

That iteration lasted all of one month. Just didn’t make any logical sense (to me, because I think about these things) that a dedicated infantry shredder would dual-purpose as a tank hunter. Off the Lascannons came, and it was back to the drawing board. The poor Macharius was relegated to the dusty top of the display cabinet to await an acceptable customization epiphany. Her salvation came in the form of another Forge World offering… Aircraft Punisher Cannons. The minute I saw them I could envision the horrifically ridiculous end result. And… viola’!

Snapped a few pix prior to the final coat of primer to help highlight the additions. The “extras” should be painfully obvious. Punisher Cannons, Assault Cannon on the hull, two additional Storm Bolters, and the Dozer Blade. Small tweaks here and there such as sensor pods, a more modernized look, etc.

Preposterous? Absolutely. You’re not going to see me even attempt to justify this monstrosity. She’ll likely never see the table except as an objective or some wonky one-off cinematic slaughter-fest. Doesn’t matter to me one bit. As far as I am concerned, she’s perfect.

Now… paint, and a name. I’m open to suggestions on that second part. “Macharius Cheesewagon” just doesn’t have the appropriate ring to it.

In part 3: Landspeeder Tempest and possible final iteration of the favorite Predator.

…

Return of the… Thing (Part I)

Ok, so… CISSP test passed (thankfully) and I’m back-in-business with that which is truly important: building twenty different 40K models at once and never finishing a’one of ‘em. The poly/resin dust clouds are once again choking the air due to eternal sanding, and I have been one busy little Grot…


(Safety note: in case you were not already aware, resin dust is HIGHLY toxic and incredibly bad for your lungs. You really should wear a filter mask when doing any manner of sanding, but with resin work a mask is mandatory if you fancy continuing to be able to breathe. Don’t say I didn’t warn you)


First up we have a joint project with my bud and primary opponent. I’m thinning my extensive 40K herd and sold him a substantial number of (exquisitely constructed) Tyranid models. This new acquisition, combined with his ongoing frustration with the length of time it is taking him to acquire and assemble his Krieg Guard army, lit a ‘Nid fire under his ass. He is now all about turning me into food paste for the Hive Fleet. Gods help me…


With the models I sold him, he has roughly 1500 points in several configurations, but was short a solid HQ unit. Hive Tyrant was the obvious choice. Due to my obsession with customization of, well… everything, and through my silver-tongued maneuverings, I succeeded in convincing him to “go different”. What you see below is the result.

She started life as a Trygon/Mawloc kit. Some bits box rummaging, trimming, sanding, more trimming, some sawing, more sanding, and a gallon of cyanoacrylate… we have ourselves a highly-customized Hive Tyrant. Which, believe it or not, is WYSIWYG: complete with Lash Whip (tail), Bone Sword, Venom Cannon, and Scything Talons. We’re both pretty darn pleased with the end result. Still a WIP, but the concept is solidified.


I had initially intended to bring everything up-to-speed in this one post, but I think I’m going to have to split it up into at least two entries as there’s a lot to cover: a Macharius conversion, Forge World Landspeeder Tempest, and even possible resolution for “The Predator Which Shall Never Be Completed". And did I mention I‘m building a Blood Angels analog? Renegade, of course.


Like I said…been back at it with a vengeance. More soon.


…

One Hour, Each Day - BF:BC2 (PC)

Not wargame-related, but my sole source of recreation until I get past the certification test this weekend...



Shout at me if you see me in-game. Surprisingly, I'm not too shabby.

...

End of the World As We Know It... And I Feel Fine

In the event you've not had the opportunity to witness fellow geeks screaming themselves red in the face on the likes of Dakka and BoLS: Games Workshop has a US price hike scheduled to go into effect May 31 on our beloved/despised plastic methamphetamine.


By the by: don't go to Dakka. It’s ugly in there. The BoLS discussions are at least civil.


This affects me not at all. Why? I can't remember the last time I purchased a plastic kit of the GW flavor. Bought the Blood Angels codex last month, but beyond that... GW just hasn't been getting my hard-earned pennies. The last price hike solved that for me. Lately I've focused on much smaller scale, squad-based armies like Infinity. Lower cost-per-army.


EDIT: not strictly true. I did purchase the new 3x Killa Kans set on release. But that was an absolute steal for what you get. AND... because there was a part missing I got six for the price of three. Can't take issue with GW's customer service. Beyond that... no clue when the last purchase was. 


Did I emorageqquit and storm off? Nah. Wasted energy. Just stopped buying. It is a game after all, and strictly non-essential. Besides, I have a metric crap-ton of kits waiting to be built... and enough bits to choke an elephant. I'll just work with Orks/'Nids/CSM/Marines I have in-hand. That in itself is a considerable amount... in the thousands of points per. Hell... this might actually encourage me to finish painting my personal reserves. 


Not quitting the game by a long shot. I enjoy it too much. And no matter how cool the Infinity/AT-43/Warmachine/insert-your-preference-here rule set is... it just won't match the richness of the 40K universe background. I couldn't walk away from that if I wanted to. 


But... sorry GW. Nothing new, thanks.

...

Forgotten, But Not Gone

Yeah... I'm still around. Haven't lost interest. Ever-increasing demands in my professional life conspire to ruin my hobby time as of late and eat up a rapidly diminishing pool of that mythological concept... "free time".

Add to the mix intense study for an enormous certification test at the end of this month (CISSP, for those who are curious) and... I'm swamped.

I expect I'll get back in the swing of more enjoyable stuff as we enter June. I honestly wouldn't expect a heck of a lot from me here on RD&C until then. Not for lack of desire... trust me.

Oh... FYI (and for your protection): I've had to start moderating/approving your feedback as some enterprising (read: asshat jerkoff) folks in the east have been dropping malicious links in the comments section. I really despise link 'hackers'... term used extremely loosely. If you're going to try to whack someone... at least work for it. So if you respond to something, and don't see it right away... nothing's amiss. It just may take me a day or two to "approve" the response. Apologies for that inconvenience. The only other option is "follower" comments only. I may go that route, but I'd prefer not to force someone to follow the blog just to comment on something. Seems disingenuous.

In the mean time: the Death Squads folks have ventured into v.5 territory. v0.5.1b to be exact. Tons of enhancements and additions. Good stuff. Plenty of reading until I come back around.  http://www.deathsquadsgame.com/

Because... of course, you're all not going to know what to do with yourselves in the interim without RD&C updates.

Right.

'Departure'

Intense white-glare of floodlights. Flurry of activity. Showers of sparks amongst brilliant  backlit strobes of plasma welders as framework is broken down and stowed. Metal crates on  pallets pushed via suspensor into bulk lifters to be strapped in place for the out-atmo  journey. Row upon row of crate and box and barrel awaiting transfer. Muddied flakboard  stacked haphazardly. Everywhere there is motion.

The Nephilim are leaving.

The only quiet spot in the manufactured forest clearing. Tall, lithe figures form out of the darkened scrub; not so much coming into view as simply materializing at the clearing’s edge. Raised voices in alarm. Electric whirr of .75 caseless rounds cycling into firing  chambers. Chains on a sword spin at idle. A massive hulk of ebon ceramite pushes through  the perfect double tier pincer which has subconsciously formed. The giant’s lip quivers a  nanosecond faint smile of approval before moving towards the shadowed intruders; eternally  loyal Staff Sergeant Otan steadfastly at his side.

Commander Akkon Sek strolls to within a few meters of the encroachers, apparently unfazed  by the multitude of gracefully aggressive weaponry pointed unwaveringly at his head.

‘You and your kin have become complacent and careless, Witch. How long ago... my life  would be forfeit, and you long gone, before my men knew you were ever here?’

A voice soft and melodic. ‘Not long at all, overconfident Astartes.’

Sek’s eyes widen slightly at the audible click and increasing pitch of shuriken weaponry en masse, activating behind his perfectly formed pincer line. An evilly triumphant smile crosses  the pale, angelic features of the female Eldar. A beat of three, and Sek’s expression morphs as a smile creases his own chiseled face.

‘Bold indeed. And yet, I am not flummoxed. Why is that do you suppose?’

Deeper, more guttural and distinctive hum as a cadre of Spectres step from shadow; a series of compact meltas held at ready and glowing to life. The Witch’s smile fades to a smirk.

‘An impasse, it would seem.’ Surprising humor in her voice.

Sek steps forward a pace, nods respectfully and extends his hand, palm up. ‘You honor us  with your presence, Farseer.’

The Eldar Farseer closes the remaining distance and grasps Sek’s wrist in greeting. ‘The  honor is ours, Sek of Nephilim. Your spark shines true and strong.’

Instantly weapons are lowered and the manufactured tension vanishes. Wrists are grasped, earnest greetings exchanged, and voices are raised in laughter and good-natured ribbing. A moment passes as the two commanders soak in the comradery. Increasingly rare, moments  such as these. As the din abates, the leaders turn towards one another and the Seer’s face  darkens.

‘The Imperial settlement is besieged. My rangers estimate they will hold for no longer than  forty-eight of your Imperial standard hours.’

Anger briefly flashes across Sek’s face. ‘Not my hours, Seer.’

‘Just so. I misspoke. Regardless, the Ruinous Powers have amassed a substantial force. The  settlement is composed of miners, shopkeepers. They are citizens… not soldiers Sek. They  will not survive.’

‘Explain to me in detail how their lack of planning for adequate defense, is an issue of mine Seer? And frankly, why you care even remotely about their fate? I’ll not waste the lives of  my men rescuing sheep who will as soon spit upon us as praise us when our... independence becomes known to them!’

Several tense moments pass. Otan and the Seer’s adjutant stare at the ground.

‘You are leaving.’ A statement. No hint of recrimination.

Sek’s shoulders noticeably sink. For the briefest of moments, his great age is laid bare. ‘A history repeated, Seer. Variations on a tired theme. Cheer as we liberate, and scorn when it becomes apparent we hold their lauded corpse-god in contempt. It is not sustainable for my men. I owe them more than this’

The Farseer nods and speaks with genuine sympathy in her hushed tone. ‘Though it would be a singular honor to fight these dark forces alongside you once again, I understand… my Lost One. I truly do. Your chosen path is a difficult one. You must follow destiny’s call for you and  yours. ‘

Taken aback by the Farseer’s overtly familiar interaction with his commander, Otan glances away uncomfortably. Well aware of the mutual respect the two hold for each other, he  marvels silently. Surely nothing more?

Noting Otan’s discomfort, the Farseer resumes her regal demeanor. ‘My exarch thirst for the blood of this ruinous throng. I must appease their spirits.’ Several rapid hand gestures and her escorts melt back into the shadowed foliage. She herself turns to depart. Prior to being swallowed by the shadows, she pauses. Her graceful profile illuminated by the camp’s  floodlights.

‘Commander? The path you choose should be your own, and would that I not dare attempt to manipulate that crossing. You do not seek to justify yourself in the eyes of those  who turn their back on you, this I know. But the Way inquires… if you yourself do not show  them the truth, how will they ever know?’

And with this, she is gone.

Sek inclines his head slightly and exhales. Otan silently watches his commander. An eternity of seconds passes. Centuries, Otan has known his commander. The intent is clear. Without a word from his senior, Otan spins on his heels to face the warriors who have resumed takedown of the encampment.

‘Desist and attend! Spectres! I require eyes-on topographical auspex and tactical analysis of  the settlement by 0300. Transport! Give me ingress route by same, complete prep of our rides no later than 0345 for mount-up at 0430. Tac! Full weapon inspect and readiness drill  by 0400… I expect a status report prior to mount-up! Move your collective asses, you sons  of whores! Edge and in-line! And Raptors?! You hot-charge those turbines again, and it is my  oath to you that I will pulp your skull with that same jump pack! Now, move! ’

Immediately, activity in the encampment becomes frenetic. Weapons are oiled and cycled. Crates of ammunition and medical supplies are hefted into Rhinos, whose grumbling engines sympathetically throb with anticipation. Armorers dote on miniscule adjustments to power  feeds and neural interfaces. Helmet comms are activated and tested. Movement is constant  and determined. The Spectres set out on foot to reconnoiter the settlement. Fluid and silent,  they vanish into the night.

With a slight nod of approval to his second, Sek turns and walks with purpose along the flakboard walkways towards his quarters. A singular motion, he draws his sidearm, checks  the load and reholsters. Before he passes from sight, Otan sees him make a gesture of an outstretched and closed fist to one of the younger Tac initiates in a show of encouragement.  The Marine returns the gesture and moves off with notably increased vigor in his step.

Otan nods, and smiles grimly. A good day to die.

...

Infinite Possibilities...

Two little-known facts:


1) Eons ago, after hearing some friends speak enthusiastically about a tabletop war game set in the distant future wherein genetically-altered space troopers battle against space elves, space zombies and space orks... I rushed down to the closest brick-and-mortar and excitedly purchased my first two squad boxes in giddy anticipation of my first game.


One box of Tau Fire Warriors. One box of Necron Warriors.


Imagine my utter dismay when my companions literally laughed themselves out of their chairs as I proclaimed proudly I was "ready". They pointed at me too. While laughing. Pictures of me with a mullet are certainly more embarrassing... but not by much.


2) Upon hearing that I would likely need several more 30.00 - 40.00 boxes just to qualify for entry-level games, and the the strength of the models was directly proportionate to the amount of money spent on each, I swore on every shred of my existence on this material plane that I would NEVER even CONSIDER participating in a game so obviously designed to bilk money from consumers! I demand freedom! Military-Industrial Complex be damned! No sheep, this guy! They could take their overly-expensive game and shove it! 


Yeah... okay. So much for scruples.


So what does this have to do with the price of wheat in China? Here's the thing... my recent (re)interest in slightly more micromanaged squad-based combat, and consequently the Kill Teams/Necromunda/Death Squads rule-sets, got me to thinking: while I can (and, will) use Games Workshop models in these smaller scale confrontations... I don't have to. I'm not strictly playing 40K any more, so the obsessive-compulsive inside me doesn't need to be bothered on a very basic level if every one of the models that hits the table doesn't have some GW basis under the conversion. As epiphanies go, its not a doozy... I know. Not always the sharpest spoon in the drawer, me. But coming to this realization ramped my (re)enthusiasm up by eleventy and opened up a world (wide web) of possibilities.


I hit the internet and started my searches with coolness as the the determining factor. Two of Merc's Minis Kemvar line (featured in an earlier post) were the first purchases. They got here yesterday and man, they are pretty damn incredible... if a bit of a pain in the keester to assemble. Then I recalled stumbling across the Infinity line some time back and how impressed in general I was with the sculpts. But... darn it all, I couldn't use them because they're not official models.


I have five on the way...

These won't be used with the Infinity rule-set, as the last thing I need at the moment is to drop 50.00 on a rulebook for yet another game system. The miniatures I chose are generic enough that I will have little problem customizing them and combining with the Merc's Kemvar to so as to appear as one coherent unit.

I'm psyched. Been ages since I was this hyped about tabletop.  

Freedom. Accept no substitute.

... 

On The Bench: 03.17.10

Making a reappearance for the first time in many moons... Factory Unit A:

Not much (if anything) has changed since she last saw the light of day. An issue I intend to remedy in very short order. She's close now... just some attention to detailing required. Will keep you posted.

Below... shades of what can and will be. Tank Farm, Refinery with huge smoke stack, Generator Building (sporting huge smoke stack no.2) and a yet-unallocated structure which will likely end up being some manner of vehicle repair center.

Not shown are of course Hab Block One & Hab Block Two, who are both receiving their own special treatment currently and neither are feeling very photogenic at the moment. They too will receive updated pictures quite soon.


On the upside I'm fairly convinced I will be able to empty out the vast majority of the pointy bits, sprue chunks, and flostam which appear to multiply in the darkness of my miscellaneous bits boxes as flair and accouterments are added to these dingy industrial city streets. Less clutter is almost always good.


Definitely going to need to pick up grey spay paint in bulk... and some large brushes. Lots of large brushes.


...

Signs, Signs... Everywhere a Sign

As I ramp up my interests in squad-based mayhem, completing the multiple pieces of industrial terrain I have in-progress has garnered renewed focus. While this post isn't specifically about those pieces (that's coming soon), it dawned on me that I have a metric crap-ton of WW-I and WW-II era propaganda posters I've collected from all corners of teh interwebz over the years. 

I know from experience how difficult it can be sometimes to locate quality bits and bobbles to add flair to terrain cityscapes, so I figured I'd give back to the community a bit and offer up some of these pix. The Communist and Fascist basis of the originals are undeniable. But when resized to 40K-scale the writing is mostly illegible anyway and it becomes all about the dark, paranoid imagery. Tailor made for our favorite dismal future. All can be easily modified with additional text or more appropriate Imperial imagery to taste.


Thus, my good deed for the day is fulfilled. Enjoy.


(Don't forget to click on each the images for full-sizes. Higher resolutions increase reduction qualities when printing propaganda for your favorite street corner)