The House of Black Flames: A Druchii Project

[Meraklis]

I like everything here! the painting, the cool conversions... keep it going!

just one question; how did you bend the phoenix's tail? you mentioned hot salt but I have no idea how you can make salt hot....

P.S. I really hope it doesnt break when you glue it. It looks amazing! Are you planning to sculpt flames on the base?

[Ilmaestro]

@ Clockwork
Hey there! I'm glad you like the conversion, I can't wait to do the rest of them! As for your question, I'm not currently at home to check, but I'll get on to it asap and let you know

@ Saori_nightstar
Thanks! I love the phoenix motif for the elves, and I decided I just needed to have one but didn't like the bland pose.

@ Meraklis
Thanks for the praise! I'll try and keep it up when I can find the time As for the pose and the 'hot salt' technique, you have to basically heat sal (I did it in a pan on the stove) and then dip the plastic into it and mold it. I can't remember where I found the tutorial on it, if I can find it again I'll put up a link - I think it was on dakkadakka IIRC. Hope that help!

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Yay for the new book!

Quick post, here are some updated pictures of the banner bearer - haven't got anything done since the end of the competition, but some of you might not have seen this little bit of extra work.









And, considering we have a new book and new-found interest, I thought I'd share (come up with) some more of the history. It's all going to be part of a longer story, but for now you guys can have it piece-meal Enjoy!

Chapter II: The Reaping

“Everybody is an enemy, and your enemies should either be caressed or crushed. If you do them minor damage, they will get their revenge; but if you cripple them, there is nothing they can do. If you need to injure someone, do it in such a way that you do not have to fear their vengeance.”
- Telroth Larai, A Darker History

The assembled nobles clapped as Tahlmar’s training sword smashed into his opponent’s breastplate, knocking him backwards. The horizontal blow would normally have cleaved an opponent in two, but the dulled edges of the practice blades saved the warrior from that fate. He clutched his chest with one hand and tested a few deep breaths as he regained his composure. Tahlmar stepped back, leaving some room between him and his injured opponent, and took up a defensive posture with his weapon.

‘I expected more from the First Sword of Serilda,’ Tahlmar said as he eyed the warrior, a mocking smile creeping across his face.

Dreadmistress Serilda’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened at the insult, but she remained silent. The remaining bodyguard by her flank loosened his sword in its scabbard, but stopped at a wave of her hand and eased it back. The dreadlords around the table keenly watched the exchange, though none voiced their thoughts. They were still unsure of the true purpose of this assembly, and no one wanted to give away their position. Khadeth had called six of the minor houses of Har Ganeth to this meeting, and the invitations had been short and succinct:

Your attendance is requested at House Kynath’sur to discuss matters of grave importance. Arrive at dusk on the morrow.

After a lavish banquet with exotic foods and wines, and idle chatter about recent slaving raids and the rumoured sighting of a new monster, dubbed the Kharybdiss, the lords were still no closer to learning the true reason for their summons. The room they sat in was large and rectangular; the two long walls were covered in tapestries salvaged from across the world, and at the head of the room hung a large curtain with a black phoenix emblazoned on it. The nobles, each flanked by two of their own bodyguards, sat around a large circular marble bench, fourty feet in diameter though only five feet wide. In the middle, where the centre of the table should have been, was a two-foot drop from the level of the ground to a marbled floor, where the two combatants stood. And now, three hours into the evening, they watched on as the First Sword of Serilda duelled against this noble in Khadeth’s service.

Tahlmar stood tall and strong, waiting for the warrior to come at him again. The warrior obliged the moment he regained his breath, and threw himself with astonishing speed across the few feet between them. The training swords blurred and clashed as the dulled blades came together, the warrior’s fierce onslaught slowly driving Tahlmar back step by step. Tahlmar moved to his left as he neared the edge of the duelling pit, but the warrior followed suit and kept him penned in. Sweat started to bead from Tahlmar’s brow as he deflected oncoming blade strokes with his own, though each time he was slower than the last. The warrior suddenly struck low, aiming for Tahlmar’s thigh, and though it was a futile attack given the blunted blades, instinct made him move to block it. As he did, the warrior twisted his wrist and turned the slash up, aiming to take off Tahlmar’s head instead. Tahlmar twisted his head and leant back just in time, the vicious swing clipping the side of his bare head instead of smashing his jaw apart. He quickly regained his composure and dove to the side under the follow-up swing, finally free of his disadvantageous position. Blood trickled down from the wound as Tahlmar rose and the dreadlords clapped again, this time the smile firmly on Serilda’s face. The warrior mirrored his dreadlady’s smile and turned to face Tahlmar, readying for the next attack, as the dreadlords looked on with sudden newfound interest. Khadeth, who up until this point had seemed largely uninterested, turned away from his personal reverie and looked down to his champion.

‘Enough toying with him, Tahlmar. Finish this.’

The warrior’s smile faded as he lunged forward again, intent on catching the bleeding Tahlmar unawares. He swung his practice blade down in a vicious arc, but it was only a half-hearted swing – as his blade moved through the air, his off-hand moved to his side and drew a dagger, preparing to stab his opponent’s exposed underarm as he moved to block the main strike. Time seemed to stand still as he dove forward; Tahlmar’s duelling blade came up predictably to meet his own as the warrior’s dagger drew ever closer to the exposed underarm of his enemy, and the warrior looked upon the face of his soon-to-be dead opponent and watched his eyes widen in realisation of his mistake. For the briefest of moments their eyes locked. Then Tahlmar’s eyes flashed blue.

Tahlmar moved quicker than any eye could follow, even the keen eyes of the Druchii. His dulled blade smashed away the warrior’s own with a force far greater than expected, breaking the warrior’s sword wrist in the process. Tahlmar’s free hand moved to intercept the oncoming dagger and locked around the warrior’s remaining wrist, pushing back against the strike. His duelling sword came straight down along the inside of the warrior’s elbow and pulled out, bending the straight arm and acting as a fulcrum. The warrior’s eyes briefly widened as he watched his own dagger turn about and come back towards his throat before embedding itself into the underside of his jaw. Tahlmar untangled himself with a graceful spin to move behind his opponent, before unleashing a wicked backhanded slash across the back of the warrior’s head. His spine cracked under the force, and the dagger blade, only inches deep a moment before, burst out through the top of the warrior’s head. Tahlmar turned and sheathed his sword in one fluid movement as the lifeless corpse behind him slowly fell to the floor.

Silence hung over the chamber, the dreadlords watched in disbelief as Tahlmar climbed out of fighting pit to stand behind the seated Khadeth, the bright blue in his eyes replaced by their normal black colour. Serilda sat there stunned as the limp body of her First Sword gurgled and spasmed, blood pumping out of the hideous wound in its head and forming a slick, red pool on the floor. Khadeth watched the assembled dreadlords for their reactions; they were not stunned by the gruesome display in front of them – they had all seen, and done, far worse than that – but rather by the manner in which it was done. Have they truly worked out my secret, or are they just blinded by their own petty ambitions? he wondered as he searched each of their faces for an answer. The only one who seemed undaunted by the spectacle was Dreadmistress Santhil Arhakuyl, who sat quietly to his right, deftly picking cherries off a small vine in her plate and casually popping them in her mouth. Khadeth broke the silence.

‘Treachery, it would seem, is as innately a part of you as is breathing or eating.’ His gaze shifted from the dead warrior in the pit to the faces of each lord as he spoke.

‘You wonder why I called you here, what this matter of grave importance is.’ He rose from his chair, and walked over to the large curtains at the back of the hall.

‘Well, my dear lords and ladies, you have waited patiently enough.’ His hand wrapped around a hanging cord at the side of the curtain.

‘In one single word…’ he pulled down on the cord and the phoenix curtains pulled apart.

‘…treachery.’

The assembled lords sat still as stone as the gruesome scene in front of them unfolded. Hanging from chains six feet off the ground was an elf – or what was left of it. The body was suspended on hooks from the roof, its arms and legs spread out in a star. The skin had been flayed from its whole body and hung by its hair on a hook next to it. The muscles of its arms and legs had been cut open to expose the underlying nerves and arteries, and each of these major nerve branches had been carefully dissected away from their target muscles, all the way to the spine. The body gently swayed back and forth as the arteries visibly pulsated with every beat of the elf’s heart, which itself was cruelly exposed – the sternum had been cut away from the ribs and the ribcage was flayed open, exposing the lungs and the beating heart sac underneath. The bowels of the elf had been extruded through the abdomen and hung outside of it, looping down many times almost to the floor from separate hooks. The genitals had been cut off and discarded, such that it was unrecognizable as male of female. The elf’s head had been dissected almost beyond recognition – the ears, nose, lips and eyelids had been cut away, and the sinews of muscle attaching the jaw to the skull had been cut, leaving it hanging perpetually open. Two hooks had been placed in the remnants of the elf’s ears and one through its nose-hole to keep the head upright, so that the eyes stared forward at the congregated dreadlords. Khadeth picked up a tool from a table underneath the elf, a single long steel rod with a small hook at the end. He hooked one of the hanging nerve branches and pulled it towards him, grabbing it between his fingers and pinching it as he did.

‘You would be surprised at how much pain a body can endure before the soul leaves it for good,’ he said idly as he watched the nerves twitch at his touch, ‘and how many secrets it can hold right up until those final moments. This body had many secrets hidden away inside it, though they were laid as bare as it is now.’ He stopped and turned back to face the table. The lords had not moved an inch; their guards, however, were poised and ready to strike, like a steel spring coiled tight. He chuckled to himself as he continued.

‘You have all heard of my betrothal to the Dreadlady Arhakuyl, the joining of our two houses as one,’ Santhil nodded at her betrothed as he spoke, ‘and you have all been witness to my rise to power. Since my return over a century ago, each of you have become a strong and faithful ally to House Kynath’sur, and yet, on the eve of one of my greatest triumphs, you conspire against me. I know of your plans for tonight; I know of your treachery.’ Their faces remained unchanged, and his voice rose as he continued on.

‘There are far greater powers in this world than you can even begin to understand, forces that tear at the very nature of reality itself, and yet all you do is vie for control over your own little dominions. I tire of your petty games, I tire of your childish politicking, and above all, I tire of your treachery.’ Khadeth turned away from the hanging corpse and strode back towards the table as he spoke.

‘My lords, let me get to the point. I have summoned you here, six of the greatest houses in Har Ganeth, to offer you my terms: lay down your swords in service of me, from now until eternity, or perish.’

Khadeth sat back down at the table, his cold blue eyes gazing from each dreadlord to the next, searching for their response. Silence hung over the room like a thick cloud, and in the stillness he could hear the beating hearts of each other elf in the room. He listened to each, trying to scry from their hearts the secrets that their mouths refused to let slip, until he was broken from his thought by the clearing of a throat.

‘My lord, whatever secrets you have wrenched from that pathetic soul behind you are naught but lies; we are your allies, now more than ever,’ Serilda spoke as she opened her arms to gesture to the other lords. We still need that fool Aldarith to assure tonight’s success she thought to herself as Khadeth’s eyes turned to her.

‘Mayhaps your recent travels to the northern wastes have left you unwell of the mind? You are confused, my lord, and confusion breeds suspicion – you even confuse the house of your betrothed with one of ours.’ Khadeth’s face softened a fraction as she spoke, and she saw her opening to buy them more time.

‘There are six of us here, and yet only five are of true houses in Har Ganeth; House Arhakuyl hails from another city.’ She giggled politely as the other dreadlords started to smile, believing that maybe their ruse was working. If I can keep him occupied a little longer, she thought, he’ll be here and we can end this charade. Khadeth raised an inquisitive eyebrow, unaware of the mistake she was proposing he had made.

‘You see, my lord, you have mistaken your betrothed for a sixth dreadlord of Har Ganeth, your absent guest, Dreadlord Aldarith.’ Her giggle turned into a small chuckle and the other lords joined in, the mood in the room easing as the error was made apparent.

‘My lord, where is Dreadlord Aldarith of House Mordekai? He was the final guest after all, wasn’t he? Let us wait until he joins us, he will most certainly put your mind at ease.’ And with his sorceresses here you won’t stand a chance, she thought as she beamed a smile across the table and the tension in the room dissipated momentarily. Khadeth returned a cold, hard stare as his blue eyes narrowed on Serilda.

‘Why, my dear Dreadlady Serilda, I think it is you who are mistaken – who do you think unearthed your treachery? Dreadlord Aldarith hangs behind me.’

The room erupted into motion. The dreadlords jumped up from their chairs and unsheathed their weapons as their guards made for Khadeth. Santhil rose from her seat to prepare for the coming onslaught as her own guards rushed forward to battle. Tahlmar stood behind Khadeth, unflinching in the face of his enemies, and shouted.

‘WARRIORS!’

The tapestries lining the walls fell away, revealing hollowed out alcoves full of blue-eyed warriors wielding crossbows. The noise of the room was immediately drowned out by the thudding of crossbow bolts being fired, reloaded and fired again. The air seemed to shimmer as it filled with speeding bolts, each finding their bodily targets. Khadeth remained seated throughout the slaugher, silent and unmoving; he was the calm eye in the storm raging around him.

It lasted only seconds, and then everything was still. Santhil had fallen back next to Tahlmar and remained unharmed, though her guards had not been so lucky. Of the other dreadlords and their guards, there remained only bolt-ridden corpses. Blood spread across the marble tiles as the last of their lifeblood ebbed away on the floor, calling out to Khadeth as it did. He slowly rose and turned from the slaughter, and strode towards the hanging corpse of Aldarith. He stopped in front of it, craning his head to look it in the eye as he spoke.

‘There will be new dreadlords of the houses. Tell them what happened tonight; tell them that this is just the beginning. Do you understand me, worm? Tell them what happens when you anger the Phoenix of Nagarythe.’

Aldarith’s body hung high off the ground and swayed with the beating of his heart, and ever so slowly, his eyes lowered to meet Khadeth’s, and a soft gurgle of compliance arose from his mouth.

[dreadboi]

Little update with some new test models. First, my new idea for the corsairs. I don't like the current models, and even if I did, they are impossible to rank up. So here's my take on them.

What parts form this miniature? it looks amazing!

[MangoPunch]

Wow! On the spearman in your July 1 post, is there a gloss finish on that black armor or is that all NMM effect? And that shield with the blue gem is absolutely epic. Just amazing freehand.

[Kargan daemonclaw]

nice use of wyche and shadow warrior parts.

I found the plastic corsaird rank up fine. You just need to:
position them consistently on the base.
build the models in their positions in the unit. \

You can't simply make a bunch of individual models and stick them into the unit in any order the corsairs and many other models are too big for that.

[Omnichron]

@Dreadboi: You can do a lot of conversions together with the Dark Eldar minis. The legs are from wyches, as are the right arm and head (Although the head might also be from dark eldar warriors). The left arm is dark eldar warriors, while the chest is from the shadow warriors.

I think that is one of the coolest conversions I've seen as well and will steal that idea as I got most of those pieces around

[Ilmaestro]

Hey guys, sorry for the lack of posts, been a bit busy lately and haven't had time.

@ dreadboi
- shadow warrior body (front and back)
- DE wyches everything else

@ MangoPunch
Thanks for the praise! The warrior doesn't have any gloss on it, it's all NMM - or at least my attempt at it as for the shield, as much as I'd love to claim that it was freehand, it's actually just the HE shields from the dragon kit, so it's already sculpted on there! But thanks anyway!

@ Kargan daemonclaw
Yeah, I think I could have positioned them better to get them to work, but I just decided I wanted something a little different. It will fit in better with my background when I get around to them

@ Omnichron
Please steal away! I hope to see yours done soon!

[strategem]

Wow. that shield is wicked as

[flatworldsedge]

Really appreciated your note about the fluff. Awesome to find another soul that enjoys a back-story (and a half!). I love how you're leveraging your context/story/(fluff) so effectively in the paint job. The eerie glowing eyes are epic on the spearman you work through.

The "dusting" technique looks ace. I've been trying that by simply adding a little more white from above, but I can see how much more powerful it would be with black mixed in.

Really like your no holds barred conversion methodology. That wolf rider is so wild and dynamic. Likewise, you've brought tonnes more drama to the phoenix pose than the kit expects.

Magic work through out.

[Ilmaestro]

@ stratagem
Thanks for the praise!

@ flatworldsedge
Thanks for the input! I think the dusting technique is really powerful in allowing you to see the highlights very well and easily, which helps out for my untrained eye. Also, doing a black prime underneath means that any shadows are already naturally there, which helps a lot with those difficult to reach spots. Glad you enjoy what's done of this so far

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I know I haven't given this plog as much attention as it deserves, but rest assured that there will be some movement on here very soon... stay tuned