 Modle Gallery
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Index
Main
p.I: Optional Rules
p.II: New Warbands
p.III: Dramatis Personae
p.IV: Hired Swords
p.V: Scenarios
p.VI: Campaigns
p.VII: Warband Guides
p.VIII: Gallery
p.IX: Submit Your Work
p.X: Awards
"What need have I for eyes that have seen such things, nor hands to touch, nor tounge to give voice to theat brief uncertain terror of the dark. A curse uopn hand and heart, I say, for neither serves man well but serves him ill. I see all men's hearts and hear the beating out of their lives knock-by-knock. How they grasp upon the shattered ruin of existence, so desperate are they to prolong their daily torment. Counting dross as if it were gold until their tally is done.
I am here walking gently amongst you. I watch quietly the hour come round and silently I summon you. You look upon me and recognise me then for all men know me that live ever in the mervice. You grip slackens and your sword fall from lifeless fingers and drops to the ground. You cry out soundlessly and try to speak but cannot, for now you know the time for words is passed. now you can but follow me into the darkness that waits for you as it always has..."
"Death is as light as a feather, duty as heavy as a mountain. Alas, tis' a hard choice to make, but even worse is when thine choice is made for thee."
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Modle Gallery
I am currently in the process of photographing, scanning and posting a number of modles. They should be up in a week or two.
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"Listen now to my tune: ah, how my flute sings! Heed my call mortals, and do not think of the thing that waits you in the shadows where my siren's call lures you. Come men, come rats, come the creatures of the dark. Hear not the cries of those who have gone before you, see not the brink of the abyss where your dancing steps take you.
Dance to the tune of my flute, even if your feet are raw and bleeding. Smile with me, eving if it is the smile of skulls and your skin peels away. Laugh with me, though your throats may choke with bile. For you are all my puppets and I shall lead you in a merry dance.
The merry dance of death.
And though thou walk with the shadow of fear before thine eyes, and the bitter taste of death upon thy tounge, yet each day thou shalt hear the call of thy doom and wage war upon thy destruction.
And though thou sleep beneath the blinded pall of night, and the tase of darkness is ever sweetened by victory, yet the grasp of death is daily defeated, and the glow of immortality grows ever brighter.
And though thou layest now in the cold grip of earth, and worms spawn silently upon thy palate, yet thy prison of moulded flesh gives succour still to the maggots that feed in unseeing, unthinking and uncertain hope.
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