Frustrated Father's Gallery

[Nathan Caroland]

Here are a few miniatures that I have painted over the last year and I certainly invite comment and critique upon.

When I'm working on a miniature, I tend to think up 'stories' to go along with them which is sort of my way of zoning out and relaxing as I tend to have an active imagination.

Thanks for looking!

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

They had all laughed when old man Jelpin had told them to beware the worms. Teeth as big as your hand and oddly glowing green eyes and an appetite for flesh to which he would then point at the old puckered scar on his arm. Worms, HAH! Everyone new Jelpin was a drunk and a lazy lout. Some said he used to be a swordsman back in the day, but most likely that was more of Jelpin's drink and lies talking.

They were adventures! They had practiced with swords for months now and the thought of a bit of excitement was almost too much to bear. They were off for the Delphine Crypts where it is said the dead lie with riches thick for the taking, just lying about for anyone to take and become rich. No more plowing and milking the cows for them. They four of them were going to be famous!

That had been two days ago, and they reached the crypts early this more with little more than the occasional animal to cross their path. It was easy. Entrance into the crypts was a snap as well as the thick doors that had kept the burial chambers safe for oh so many years lay broken and rotting upon the stairs leading down into crypts.

At first there was little to be seen other than the occasional bone or broken pottery. It seems that all of the easy loot had been taken long ago but as they went further into the crypts they began to find small coins here and there, as is dropped hastily. Then they came upon a pile of strewn bones and a bulging sack which had contained more jewels and gold than any of them had ever seen before, enough to make them all rich! If this was just lying up on the floor, what else could there possibly be?! So they continued further into the crypts.

Jasmine was carrying the torch so they never did see what got her, but suddenly something rushed from the shadows, a slithering sound and the smell of carrion proceeding it and with a screech she dropped the torch, sending everything into shadows and chaos. By the time they had grabbed up the torch and lit another there was no sign of her, though her screaming could be heard and a large trail of blood that something had been dragged through told them where to look.Her screams stopped long before they found her, but when they found her, their own screams of fright and horror joined hers.

Entrails and gore lay strewn across the dusty crypt floor while something near half the size of a man bored within her stomach, the sounds of tearing and chewing echoing loudly within the chamber. Pulling its blood and gore covered head free from Jasmines body a worm like creature hissed menacingly at them, two large mouths opening with long teeth and undulating tongues probing the air before it. Their torchs bounced off its purple mottled skin and its multiple green eyes seemed to shine with a light of their own. Three more joined it from the shadows ....

.... Yosef huddled within the sarcophagus, tears streaming down his face and fear making his teeth chatter, the original occupants bones grinding together while he rocked himself slowing back and forth. The heavy lid lay mostly over him as he hid, though he could still hear the sucking sounds of the crypt worms as they continues to eat his childhood friends. "Old man Jelpin warned us ..." kept rolling through Yosef's thoughts.

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

The creature stood amongst a moldy and moss ridden pile of bones, human, animal and otherwise, the only thing they had in common were that they had been picked clean of any meat and the bones were cracked and broken for the sweet marrow inside.

Grossly fat the ghoul continued to rip pieces of flesh from a large bone, possibly a leg, as it gobbled and slurped grotesquely at the still blood warm meat. Casually it snapped a thigh bone in half, powerful muscles and strength hidden by folds of fat.

Looking around, the adventurers hiding amongst the trees and rocks finally spotted the remains of their scout who had disappeared earlier in the day, though the only identifiable part was his torn and blood soaked clothes and a part of his face that hadn't been obliterated as his head had been torn open to get to the soft brains inside. More than one of their group retched silently where they lay.

With anger and determination on their faces the signal was given to attack and with shouts of defiance and rage, the five men rushed from their hiding to lay this foul creature low ...

... some were still alive when the creature began its grisly feast, their screams echoing through the forest, accompanied by the ghastly chortle of this king amongst ghouls.

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

"Har-Har-HAR!" the ogre bull laughed as he watched one of those puny gnoblar slaves catch a pointy eared elf in a bear trap, the trap clanging shut with a spray of blood that covered the ogre bull in a most satisfying way. He continued to laugh even when one of his many opponents stuck a blade into his leg and contemptuously, he swatted it with his stone bearing club.

All about him his fellow ogres bashed and stomped the elves as they broke through their feeble defense. With relish he kicked the life out an elf that had fallen victim to the rush and he stood there for a few moments stomping up and down, fascinated by the sucking and crackling sounds that were made while he pulped the elf into so much paste. An idiotic smile formed on his face as he cut another two of them in half as his bladed glove swung about. Several arrows now stood out upon his chest and sides now, though none in his gut as his beloved gut armor turned all blows. Puny things.

Beside him, the gnoblar slave with the bear trap once again had the weapon ready and with a smile the ogre bent down and scooped up the creature which gave a nervous squeak. Pointing into the throng of elves before him he wound his arm back and with a mighty throw, launched the gnoblar forward into the advancing elves and it screamed the whole way, bear trap proceeding it in green hands clenched white in fear.

*SNAP*

"Har-Har-HAR!"

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

He had come from the north seeking treasures amongst the rich southerners and had been astounded at how the crippled, weak and stupid were allowed to live. Not only that, many held position and power amongst their own. Vidor spat a wad of phlegm onto the ground before him as he watched the caravan make its way down through the valley. Behind him his men busied themselves with their weapons and mounts. Southerners all, but ones that he had molded into true men and killers for his own purpose. Phah! What he wouldn't do for a handful of good North born men!

As the caravan entered the kill zone, Vidor and his men charged the caravan, intent on death and rapine of the rich cargo. It was only at the last moment that Vidor realized something was wrong and without a word of warning to his men, kicked his horse into a different direction, angling past the caravan and into the wilderness. Moments later the slaughter of his men began as hidden forces within the caravan turned the ambush upon the bandits .....

..... they had shot his horse out from beneath him over half an hour ago when the pursuit had caught up with him, but he, being of good northern stock simply rolled off the horse and kept running. He still had to chuckle at the thought of the one mans look upon his face when he had jumped out from behind that last rock and nearly cut the man in half with the combined power of his powerful swing and the gallop of the mans steed. It had almost been worth the arrow that he took in the arm before he could scatter back into the rocks as the rest of the mans troupe pursued him. Only seven of them left. He was sure he could pull it off.

.... six

... three

... two

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

The human toppled with little sound to the leaf strewn forest floor as Irdril's arrow took him in the heart, killing him instantly. Around the corpse, another seven humans lay crumpled in death, each having died as easily, and silently as the first.

Irdril shook his white mane of hair, the only sign of his great age, in regret. He had counciled against fighting the humans, had preached tolerance and patience until another solution could be found, but those young fools with hot blood and little brains, like Nuada, had taken the fight to the humans, had escalated it beyond anything that could be healed. So many had died ...

Still, there was little he could do now that the war had been brought in full, the summer had been harsh and the blood had flown freely but now with the approaching fall and soon winter, it seemed as if perhaps the tide had relented, if for only a bit. With a silent sigh he raised his darkened bow and and fletched another fire blackened arrow and let it loose with nary a sound or excess of movement and the human who had thought to creep though the dark to his left fell dead as the arrow pierced his skull.

Silently he stalked through the evening forest, hunting more interlopers.

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

The realms were ruled by the great houses and constantly there was strife and unrest as one house sought to unseat another until House Jor'dian was able to unite the lands under a strong rule. Through the centuries House Jor'dian had been instrumental in directing the realms though not without making enemies, powerful enemies and it was seventy three years ago when the great house was thrown down and the descendants of Jor'dian had been slaughtered almost to the last. Some few survived in hiding.

The Order of the Watchful Hand had been set to watch the direct descendants from the blood line of their founder, as an elite group of house soldiers that were still loyal to their cause and ideas and it was with their help that those that did survive were able to make new lives for themselves. Still, a great bounty had been set upon the heads of all descents of that once great House and although diligent and faithful, those that had survived had been hunted down through the decades, their guardians slain before they too were tortured and murdered. Now, only one of the House of Jor'dian survived, a young boy named Uriel.

The Order is only a shadow of what it once was, but all their hopes and loyalties were now with the boy and those that remained, some thirty of the faithful, saw to the boys education and upbringing.

____

He cocked his head as he turned into the wind, listening. Something was out there, or someone. Yes, there it was again, the sound of a footstep and the sound of cloth rubbing.. Pulling his sword, Sir Malcolm, an Order Guardian, took up his shield and moved quietly across the broken cobblestones that made up the courtyard of this old manor, his red cloak blowing out behind him and leaves tumbling by from the trees ready to slumber with the coming of winter. Again he heard it and with hurried steps he moved along the wall beside the brown and dead garden and paused at the corner before quickly looking.

Three men dressed in the garb of thieves and assassins were climbing the wall to the third story of the manor house, where the boy was being looked after by the others. Watching their progress he allowed them climb another ten feet up before rounding the corner and bellowing an alarm. Surprised one of the men fell from the wall, his head bursting like a melon on the jagged cobblestone. The other two began to scramble towards a window which promptly opened as they got close and a sword took one of the men in the throat as one of his Brothers responded to the alarm, the man dropping quickly to the ground beside the other.

"Come on down and tell us who sent you," Malcolm calls from below, his sword out, "and on my honor you shall have a quick death." He watched the man cling to the wall in indecision for a few moments before continuing, "The alternative is much more painful I assure you."

With wide fear filled eyes, the would be assassin began his descent ...

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

The immensely fat Ogre chortled as he slurped down a piece of warm bloody meat that had landed on his apron as he butchered the carcass of the human and tossed the choicest bits into a bucket for later. The man had only stopped screaming minutes ago, but in that time he had managed to take the frail thing apart.

Heavy smoke swirled through the air, obscuring the small town that the ogres had decimated earlier in the morning and still screams could be heard from those that the Ogres chose to make play things of or, as a fly, tore limbs from bit by bit just to see how long the humans could live.

Another splash of crimson blood sprayed across the ogre as he continued his grizzly work. Before the day was through, he would be bathed in blood as there were troops to feed.

[Nathan Caroland]

__________

There were three of them in total. One male was grizzled and battled hardened, a veteran and his weapons were well cared for, his armor dented and scratched but serviceable. The younger male, little more than a boy really, shivered in the night air with only a thin tunic and a skinning knife commonly used on fish, his wide eyes belied his fear. The third and last was an elven female, the leader of these two, her weapons and armor the best amongst the trio and she sat quietly and confidently on her heels as she scanned the dark beach before them, the three of them hidden by a sand dune.

"Are you sure about this?" the youngest asked, his voice nervous. "I mean, the creature hasn't even hurt anyone, only taking some fish. This is its ocean you know," he finishes lamely.

With a snort she reaches over and thumps him on his head. "Think! This creature has been seen along this coast for three moons now," she points upward where the full orb of the moon was visible, "and this is the best time to catch sight of it if the villagers are correct. Besides, the village is paying good hard coin and that's why I hired you to take us out here! Are you saying you don't want to be part of this any longer?" She stared hard at the young guide she had hired from the village. "You approached me first, remember!"

Dejectedly the boy shook his head, "I hasn't hurt anybody," he mumbles before turning back over in the sand to watch the coastline again. Behind him the woman shook her head in annoyance before returning to watch duty as well.

After half an hour the boy began squirming a bit, and then a bit more, before she turned on him, "What is your problem?" he stills for a moment before squirming again and quickly gets to his feet, "I've got to make water," he says quietly in an embarrassed voice." The two sellswords laugh quietly as he quickly makes his way off into the dunes for privacy. "Damn thing is gonna get the boy if he doesn't watch it," the grizzled man says with vile humor.

Several minutes pass before the two begin to wonder just where the boy had gotten off to when the man suddenly taps the lady elf on the shoulder and points, "Near the rocks on top of that dune over there ... lords above, that's a big bastard!" he exclaims quietly before looking to the woman to see if she spotted it as well. "That's a damn sight bigger than we were led to believe. You sure about this?"

With a nod she watches the creature. "We can do it, we've got surprise on our side." Twisting around she looks back the direction the boy went and snorts, "He's probably shatting himself now, we don't need him." Turning back she watches the creature, an unholy union of man and shark, with a sharks body but with arms and legs and of a huge size. Standing easily ten feet, the gray and white creature makes its way down the steep dune, its tale obscuring its passage with wide sweeps. The moonlight reveals a massive maw filled with many sharp teeth and if there was any doubt that the creature was unholy, its red eyes seemed to gleam in the night.

It continued down the dune and made its way towards the water, right past the dune that the two sellswords hid behind. The second it passed the two sprang up silently and launched themselves at it, weapons leading the way. It must have somehow known that they were there though, as a tall flashed through the air and hammered into the grizzled veteran, the force of the blow launching the man ten feet through the air and into the surf.

As quick as an eye blink the creature had moved out of the range of the womans swords and as she landed and turned, she felt a heavy taloned hand grasp her by her shoulder and another by her head. She had only a moment to scream before her opponent casually tore her head from her shoulders, a look of anger and surprise stamped upon her face.

With the grizzly trophy in hand, it turned and walked into the surf where the man was trying to make his way back to dry land. He screamed loud and long before dying as the shark-thing savagely bit into him, crushing through armor, flesh and bone easily and shaking the man like a rag doll before dropping him to the beach, as well as the head he had been holding onto.

Gills expanding and contracting the wereshark began to convulse, the snapping of bones and cartilage moving drowning out the sound of the surf and the creature began to shrink and become more manlike in appearance as it clawed at the sand about it until finally stilled, heavy breathing and gasping joining the sound of the surf.

It was the boy, the guide, that finally stood upon the beach, his body naked and wet with sweat and the ocean water. Spitting into the sand the boy wiped his mouth, a bright crimson smear crossing his face and forearm. "I tried to tell you. I tried to warn you!" the boy spat at the two bodies as if they could hear him. "Why couldn't you just leave me alone!" picking up the head of the woman by her long hair he pitched it into the ocean, its fright filled face landing in the water.

With a look of hatred in the direction of the village that had hired these killers to slay him he spat a curse.

There would be a reckoning ...

[anatora]

OK, Nathan. That was intense. Kinda forgot what the minis looked like cause I got into the story. The story makes the wereshark into perspective now that I understand the head in the hand. Good job. Irdril has a lovely paint job. very clean and attractive. I do like the work done on Vidor and the PaintAid entry. Nice work.

[Draykin]

These are really nice FF!

The blood spill on the Butcher is perfect! Where did the base inset on the Ghoul King come from? Is that the one that reaper put out made to fit the round base? Great job on the symbol on the back of the Templar. Is that all NMM?

[EricJ]

ooh, old thread...I forgot he could actually paint, and even show a little talent! And here I thought his only talent was to bother me about getting things done which required talent to do

[Wombats]

Nice work.

Its interesting that the big chunky models you've chosen seem to be the opposite of the dainty, sleek look of Malifaux.

And you have my approval to whip Eric harder, need more Wyrd.

[DeafNala]

Now that is a REALLY COOL presentation...FINE photos of GREAT minis with INCREDIBLY imaginative background fluff...I'm mildly impressed :squint: VERY WELL DONE...it's criminal that you don't get to paint more often! :fing02:

[supervike]

ooh, old thread...I forgot he could actually paint, and even show a little talent!

No kidding! I forgot what a damn good painter he was....

Maybe someday he'll show off some new stuff!

[AntiZombie]

Ha! A few days ago I thought about doing some thread necromacy on this too always love to see nathans stuff

[pancake ss]

Nice work, the best one for me ogre butcher. Sweet.

[blakeh1]

Paint wise I like the Orge Bull best. Awesome stories

[Nathan Caroland]

Wow, that's an old thread.

[lawrence]

Wereshark! Awesome!

[TheBugKing]

The most amusing thing about this thread necro is the fact that Nathan is probably about 5 years away from having the time necessary to see if he still has brushes.

Let alone find a figure to paint or the paints necessary to do it!

Get involved in making an game and you will never game again. What gives?

[Peterdita]

Shoulda known it was too good to be true...

[goblyn13]

The most amusing thing about this thread necro is the fact that Nathan is probably about 5 years away from having the time necessary to see if he still has brushes.

Let alone find a figure to paint or the paints necessary to do it!

Get involved in making an game and you will never game again. What gives?

I'm pretty sure finding a figure to paint wouldn't be too hard for him, the brush well he probably would have to go out and get a few new ones, and the paint, well i'm pretty sure his old citadel stuff (the ones with the pop-top lid) is probably pretty crusty.

[Captain.Danger]

Damn Nathan, nice paint jobs. Kudos for being ballsy and playing Orge Kingdoms hahaha. I have to say the Wereshark and Irdril are my favorites. Especially the water on the Wereshark's base.

grats man,

-Captain Danger

[Peterdita]

FYI NATHAN: painting misses you as much as you miss it