What a waste of money they turned out to be. After Johann was made mayor, Joe brought it the nastiest members of his clan to run security. He couldn't risk his meal ticket being hurt in anyway. After they let him down, Joe punished them with the same spells he used on the dumber members of his family and cursed them to serve him in death.

Old man Joe knew his boy Johann was going to be his ticket to power. Joe had him educated in all the most prestigious boarding schools the Empire had to offer. He even captained the snotball team at Altdorf University where Joe had to pretend to care and even bought one of those stupid "We're #1" gloves. After graduating with honors, Johann boy even did a stint in the Imperial Navy where he captained a small patrol while raiding some villages in the far east. 

Everything went sour though, on that parade Johann had. See, Joe had to make some deals with some of the seedier elements in town to help sway Johann's mayoral campaign. But then, Johann and Rupert didn't seem to care who they owed. Instead, Johann took to the ladies while Rupert actually started trying to arrest those same people that Joe owed! And that's why Johann took a crossbow bolt to the face.

Old Joe tried to use all his magics to save him. He burned through every expensive ingredient while making Rupert exhaust himself in support. But all Joe could do was raise a shambling corpse. Things go even worse after Rupert was also murdered. Rupert wasn't Johann, and therefore wasn't important, so Joe has his corpse thrown into the town dump. After having put forth his blood, sweat, and tears trying to raise Johann, Rupert's soul was enraged when he saw that his father didn't even come to claim his own body. With this rage, Rupert was born anew, as a wraith intent on haunting his father for all eternity.

So a short post this week, but this has been one I've been wanting to publish for awhile. For a proper Oldhammer photograph, you need a proper old school backdrop!

Scabnose has been on a scouting mission around the burgh of Mittelmark when Necroburgher's curse was unleashed and was damned just the same as the town's residents. Goblin brains, however, are not as advanced as other inhabitants of the old world. So when Scabnose returned to the goblin encampment, well, no one really noticed. A zombie goblin doesn't smell any worse than a regular goblin, nor are they any less intelligent (a sad indictment on the intelligence of goblins in general). Sure, he talked less than he used to, but who really wanted to hear him talk anyway? So with no good information to pass on, since Scabnose could only repeat "brains...," the goblin encampment moved on and took Scabnose with them.

So it has been quite a few months now since GW released the new Contrast Line of paints. And I have been playing around wiht them for a little while now. So here are some of my experiments. I find they are great on certain types of models, namely most historical models, skaven, genestealer cults, and other models with a ton of texture. I've had less luck with them on things that lack any texture. I've also found them great for weathering and through an airbrush.

“Kill kill kill kill kill the poor toni-i-i-i-ght”

-Dead Kennedys

Armed with a complete lack of conscience, the ability to squeeze the jelly out of a man's skull between only his thumb and forefinger...

What is there to say about Krunk the Barbarian? A legend in life, he was a mountain of muscle who could crush ten lesser beings with a single mighty blow of his magical great axe, Primrose. With oiled, rippling thews and a wanton disregard for personal space and property rights, Krunk wandered the empire and beyond shedding copious amounts of blood and amassing untold treasure that he threw away on bad dice, worse women, and truly atrocious booze as quickly as he amassed it. Thus armed with a complete lack of conscience, the ability to squeeze the jelly out of a man's skull between only his thumb and forefinger, and the brainpower of a toadstool, Krunk imposed himself upon the world. When Krunk arrived in Karr-Keel it looked like the perfect night to triple up on Ye Olde Combatte Burgers’ quad-patty meal and get into a couple of rousing bar fights. But, fortune didn't have Krunk's back on the Mayor's birthday, and the Necroburgher's curse hit just as he was ruthlessly pummeling the former occupants of his favorite table at the Westgate Ye Olde Combatte Burgers. Now, he wanders the ruins of Karr-Keel, a hulking form, rotting and even more mindless, forever seeking the thrill of combat and the mountain of burgers he never got to eat.

In the swamps that surround Ottersricht, they say there are places even the mutants won't go--places where the dead return to steal the souls of the living!

-Jurgen Oppenheimer, Ottersricht merchant

"And there I was, yessir, amidst the dead of my regiment, the Spears of Hoffenmark, lying wounded and the only survivor on either side. And on down the road I sees a dust cloud coming up slowly. At first, I thought it might be the reinforcements we was promised. Then I thought it might at least be more of them, come ta finish me off. But i'twasnt neither. It was Death himself, come to collect the bodies!"

"Now, now me boy. True power doesn't come from chaos. That'll just make you a puppet--and that is no power at all. And it doesn't come from Sigmar, either!" cackled the wizened old man as he hackec a glob of phlegm at the mention of Sigmar. He grabbed his corpulent assistant by the arm and lead him the dais. His familiar followed him, psychically knowing where to shine the light from its candle to illuminate its master's project. "No, it comes from the mastery of life and death, and once I am done with my children, Ottersricht shall be ours!"