The Beard Bunker

Look, things just get out of hand sometimes, you know? It was never my intention to collect an entire company, these things just happen.  I was talking to Charlie recently about his long-term goals for his incredibly beautifully painted Cobalt Scions .  Initially he’d planned it to be a small self-contained force as a focussed project, given that he has painted every model to a high character-worthy standards; however as it had kept on growing and he kept on enjoying it he eventually set his sights on a full battle company. For my part I told him that I had no specific intentions of completing a battle company, I was just collecting.  I don’t number my squads anyway, so I really had no sense of how they fitted into the company structure, but given enough time I figured I’d probably get there eventually anyway.  Afterall, I am putting vastly less effort into painting than he is, and my much lower standards mean I can comfortably knock out a unit in a quarter of the time. Curious though,

Greetings fellow pals of the Primordial Annihilator! It's been a hot minute since any of the glorious sons of Lorgar have graced the august pixels of this digital journal. I'd kinda fallen off the Chaos wagon a bit; painting four thousand points of the nutcases will do that. But having finished the first phase of the Kessarine I was getting the urge to evil again... and what better evil than giant metal dinosaurs filled with the animating spirit of daemonkind? Since minute one of collecting Word Bearers I knew that I wanted absolute stacks of daemonstuff in the army. After all, we're not even "Chaos is a tool for use" types, we're "Chaos is our bestest friend" types. With a Venomcrawler and sort of a Defiler under my belt it was time to tackle some of the bigger beasts. I knew I wanted one of each of the Maulerfiend and Forgefiend so took the perhaps rash decision to paint 'em as a pair. I'm honestly impressed by how different they've

In mid-2021 I ran face first into a metaphorical brick wall of demotivating architecture. I was never happy with either the look or the efficiency of my original paint job on the Sanctum Administratus , and stalled badly on getting enough of it done to make it a truly useful addition to my terrain collection as a whole, and consequently my modular urban board project in particular. The whole thing rattled to a halt. The original paint job: both too rusty and too clean. Some time later, the Fronteris terrain range came out, and the fast method I developed for painting that stuff was a joy. In the last few months, keen to clear out lingering work-in-progress projects, my eye settled on the stupid, half-finished modular ruin I'd built from 3 sanctum administratus kits. That was a lot of investment sunk into something that wasn't finished enough to be useful (I'd only ever fully painted the intact sections, so it was essentially just a giant urban hill rather than something yo

“What's this?” Sirrus Bizniz asked the nervous-looking mek. Of course, Sirrus knew perfectly well what it was: it was a battlewagon. A big pile of armour on wheels and tracks, designed to transport orks too wimpy for a traditional charge. Sirrus liked his enemies to see him coming. He liked seeing the fear in their eyes as he got closer. The question was not what the battlewagon was, the question was how the mek would try and sell him on an idea that didn't mesh with his Klassik Goff vision for the Metalwaaagh. “Tour bus,” said Zibbitt. This was, to be fair, a pretty strong opening. “Just for transport between battles. We made it big and tough to show that you is the boss.” This was clearly rehearsed. Bignooz had put Zibbitt up to this in case it didn't go down well. It was satisfyingly chunky, and the black paint job was pretty dread, but it felt wrong to see something so big look so toothless. “Needs dakka,” Sirrus said eventually. Zibbitt’s brows furrowed. “You want to