Hi guys - It's been exceptionally busy in our house, this christmas being the first time the missus and I are hosting for both our families - so the last week has been all about shopping, christmas decorating, cooking, cleaning, etc etc - we're pretty beat, but tomorrow night is the night!
Anyway, enough of my everyday dribble - I've managed to get the Tzeentchian troll almost finished during the last couple of nights - a few touchups and the base is all that is needed to call him ready for paint (now. that'll be a whole different challenge). I'm very pleased with him, I think I managed to pull off him being very mutated and fluxating, without him looking like a troll dipped in glue and thrown into the bitz box.
For the narratively minded of you lot, I've also written a small bit of background on him, posted below the pics. As always, comments are much appreciated, and a merry christmas to you all. :)
The tale of Vlorg the Novence Blessid.
“HurtFeedPainHungerKillRunFeedHurtPainHun… “
A maddening stream of emotions constantly crashed against the shallow mind of Vlorg. Vlorg was very angry with the voices. Vlorg hadn’t previously felt much - hunger, once in a while, when he’d slept so long that he hadn’t fed in weeks, and not much else. Often anger, rarely pain, never fear. All that had changed when he’d found that strange creature in the mountains - it was so brightly coloured, moved so quickly and strangely, and Vlorg had never seen anything like it before - lots of teeth, arms, and the weird noises it made… He had gotten curious and had to see what it was. As soon as the creature felt his presence, it was afraid - Vlorg knew when something was afraid - things were always afraid of him. It hissed, spat and screamed at him, as he lumbered closer, and cornered it against the rocks and sniffed at it - it smelled strange - like the sulphur lakes of the mountain deeps. As he loomed closer, the creature got desperate, feeling it’s own doom approaching and lashed out with several malformed arms, tentacles and limbs at Vlorg It lashed out with a talon, and cut a deep wound on his belly and he got enraged - he bellowed his anger and lunged at the thing. Vlorg dropped his axe, and began tearing the creature limb from limb, while it screamed, sang and whirred in it’s maddening sounds. Soon, Vlorg stood in a pile of malformed body parts and a pile of bodily fluids, grasping one the creatures heads in his hand, a strange lump of flesh with several fanged maws and no eyes. The maw opened and closed, and Vlorg was about to throw it to the ground and stomp on it, when a voice was heard through the snowstorm:
+Go on, Vlorg - you’ve defeated it. You are victorious. Eat the flesh. It is your right, your spoils of war.+Vlorg looked around, but no one was to be seen. +Yes, Vlorg - eat it.+
Vlorg was somehow compelled to take a bite out of the head of the creature. As his gigantic teeth crunched through flesh and bone, he found it tasted bad, like sorcery, like chaos. He hated the taste of Chaos. He was somehow compelled to take another bite. It tasted bad, like the armoured warriors of the northern tribes. He took yet another bite, and he began devouring the rest of the steaming carcass…
Soon Vlorg had eaten it all. As he began to make way back to his cave, he felt a strange sensation in his belly - as if something was trying to get out. Suddenly, fingers poked against his belly from within, pushing against his skin, pushing further, his skin impossibly stretching as an entire arm formed from his skin. He roared and ripped the arm away, only to see that maws were appearing on his skin as well, along with other limps. Suddenly he felt a snapping sound, and fell to the ground contorting as his spine snapped in half and twisted inside him. Blinding pain ripped through him, and he roared at this invisible enemy, making him hurt so much. As he slipped out of consciousness, he heard the voice again;
+Yes, Vlorg. You are changing. You are mine now. For I am Tzeentch and you are the puppet that dances to my tune…+
When Vlorg awoke, he was covered in snow from the blizzard. He felt… Different. As he rose and reached out for his axe with his right arm, two arms reached for it. Puzzled, he began to look at his body, and seeing arms, limps and gnashing maws emerging and disappearing from his body, constantly changing. He heard… no, felt, a voice inside his head, screaming bitterness, babbling madness, crying out in pain, screaming for bloodshed, and for the first time in his life, he felt fear. He screamed his rage and terror out into the mountains, and the gnashing maws of his flesh followed suit. The spawn and he had become one.
*********
Khezaon Nethergaze had never seen such a marvellous manifestation of his Masters will before. Spawns, yes, but they had a tendency to burn out within hours, days or weeks after their transformation. This was something else entirely. A trolls legendary healing powers, combined with the constantly mutating power of the Puppetmaster - Khezhaon was almost excited at this unexpected turn of events, this running into such a magnificent creature. Yes, excitement, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time - such was his masters blessing, the future was often hinted at, if not known. He watched with his one baleful eye, a nimbus of light, visible only to the blessed of Tzeentch, swirling and circling the raging troll. He had to act quickly, for his Tzaangors and warriors could only hold onto the chained troll for so long.
He focused his mind as so many times before, but this was a … Challenge. He needed to not only break through the walls of a trolls shallow but stubborn mind, he had to soothe the insane part of the troll too - the sputtering mad mind of the spawn.
+Be calm+ Khezaon pulsed.The troll turned while snarling - +You did this too me! You are the one that made me hurt!+ The trolls reply was more a whirl of thoughts and emotions, than a an actual reply. +I did not do this to you. My master did, and he can do much worse things to you. Now, be calm.+The troll struggled against his chains a few more times, but was finally at ease. +I can make the voices stop. I can make them quiet. Serve me, and I shall. Do not, and I will make them even more unbearable.++Serve you? How?++Destroy my enemies. Whenever you hear the voices, those before you are my enemies. Kill them, and the voices will stop. They are the ones who cause you fear, pain and anger. Follow me, and you shall be freed from the maddening voices.+ +Vlorg serve you+ The troll replied.
With a last strain of focus, Khezaon pushed the spawn back to the furthest corner of the trolls mind, although he left the magic wall around the spawn with a few cracks and chinks, ready to be broken down at a moments notice, when the trolls rage was needed against an enemy. “An exciting turn of events indeed.” Khezaon thought, as he walked towards the troll in the middle of the warriors, it’s chains slack and at peace for the first time in weeks.
