OK, so I've found myself signing to the ToFP this year with Vampire Counts, a whopping 2000pts of the buggers that I found in a box lying around. And that's not even all of it, but more than 2k is just like asking me to sit on an anthive!
Latest update: Story + Color tester of Ghouls!
Now some preparations are needed for me to brace myself for the year. First and foremost I catalogued the mini's that needed the paint, and fashioned myself an army list (it's not competetive, so don't tell me about how I should change it!), purely for WYSIWYG reasons (I don't want to buy anything more for this army).
So here we go, a list of what I have, coloration shall follow when the time comes:
The Festering Coven of Argoth the Red
Argoth the Red
The Traveller (BSB Vamp)
Vatah the Vile (Necro on foot)
Naggund the Putrid (Necro on Cart)
Holders of the Red River (spearskellies)
The Under-court (HW+S skellies)
The Freshies (guess )
The Court of Argoth (GW guards)
The Beast of Argoth
The Red Knighthood
The Hollow and the Shriek
Gray=Work in progress/not yet GS'd
WIP shots and an undercoated armyshot will follow when I get more primer and daylight
And, as an appetizer I probably should tell you a tale of the idea behing Argoth...
There are tales whispered among the rural folk of the Old World of a once-great Citadel and its lord, known to most as The Red. The tale is as tragic as it is foul, some of the scholars even deny ever hearing of it, although it is taught to all those wishing for more power.
This tale begins from the sea, where in ages long past a vessel of the Empire, namingly the Robust Barmaid, was adrift from its course to the New World. The ship ended up far more north than it should have, tossed about by winds that were most likely conjured by a Shadow Matriarch of one of the Black Arks known to be in the vicinity.
Separated from their fellow men, the soldiers were anxious at the thought of the most hostile land they would ever have to endure. There was, however, hope still. They had a young and powerful leader, named Argan the Loud (mainly for his voice).
Argan announced to his soldiers that they would use the ship as material, set up camp and make fortifications, waited for rescue and found a new town where they had shored. The town was to be named Farout, and Argon's second-in-command, Felgis the Seasick (named during the storm), was to become its commander when founded.
Months went by, and the atmosphere in and around the small town became colder by the day. They had infrequent attacks from native tribesmen, named by the soldiers Nic-Knacs for their fearsome battle cries, but even they seemed to be less and less interested of the unbreachable walls the soldiers had made during the waiting.
Argan was worried about whether or not was anyone interested in rescuing them, after all he had a Citadel to watch over back in the Old World. He gazed at the stars hopefully, and noticed that they weren't so different viewed from one of his balconies.
He sighed and looked at his feet, all hope withered from him slowly, day by day. Then he discovered a small item next to his left foot.
It was a glowing pendant of some sort, shaped in the form of a dragon biting its own tail. Argan put the item around his neck in hope that it would bring help to them.
The very next morning, at the gaze of dawn, Argan found himself awake in front of a tomb, all his men exhausted beside him. When questioning what it was all about Argan got maddened glares in return, his men had been ordered to dig down a hole in the center of town by Argon himself!
Bewildered, Argan snapped the pendant from his neck and looked at the newly-found tomb entrance, for a tomb it was, Argan had seen quite a few of them when crossing the moors of the Old World.
Inside of the tomb, he found only an intricate coffin, with images most likely carved by the feral natives.
When he opened the coffin, a stench far worse than anything he had ever smelled entered the tomb. Using a bit of towel he managed not to vomit, although it was still horrible enough for his men to stay away.
The coffin was almost empty, only containing a piece of parchment. Rolling it open, Argan found himself looking at something he was more than delightful to announce to his men. Not only were there complete instructions on how to use the native trees to make a ship that would endure the harshest weather, there was also a guide how to navigate the ship with only the stars!
The parchment was signed by Elleus Windmourn, an Empire sage and scholar of the Star-Castellans of old.
If you read the whole text, congrats! If not, well, stay tuned! Updates before the painting commences will contain more fluff (if you liked it ), the WIPs as promised, an army shot and a bunch of Fantasy mini's from outside the ToFP!