Wizards' Cup Semi-Final 1: Kicking Oz

The Wizards' Cup enters the final four, and only two lores will face off in the final.

Before we get into the first semi-final, may I draw your attention to the podcasts of The Dwellers Below, an aptly-named group of Aussie tournament players who get together on a monthly basis to yammer about the 'hammer.

They usually last for 2 hours (it could probably be cut to a lean 45 minutes without the jokes, but why would you want that?) and the ones I've listened to I've found to be both informative and an absolute riot.

Anyway, their latest podcast discusses all of the Battle Magic lores in detail, as they debate which ones are the best. So this is clearly a common train of thought in WFB (makes me wish I'd taken notes before commencing battle here - it might have helped).

But enough of this ... on to glory!

Not pictured: glory.

Death and Beasts

They'd been at the inn for all of half an hour when the Witch Hunter turned up.

Bruno was so exhausted, he could barely concentrate on what the man was saying. He pushed his plate of stew away, glad of an excuse not to finish it. He wasn't hungry. He kept seeing the life drain out of that woman's face as his magic gripped her.

Unbearable Lightness

Schaeffer screamed.

The light was everywhere. It was everything. It was tearing through him, impaling him on brilliant shafts. His auric armour was being ripped away, taking hanks of hair and skin with it.

Around him, scintillating figures hammered at his golden guards, smashing them apart with hammers of pure white energy. The sky, if it was a sky, was painful to see. And the clouds of tidal magic that scudded underfoot reflected that same searing light.

The Pharoah was an impossibly vast figure, somehow both as bright as the midday sun and dark as its eclipsed corona at once. He seemed to flicker, although the flickers brought no shadow. He brought light to the world, he was the world. Schaeffer cowered at his annihiliating presence

And then he was gone.

Life in the Shadows

The Museum was near silent again. The tall ceiling drank up sound in the same way that the gloomy halls drank light. The distant drumming of the rain outside, that was all now. A gentle fire had started in one corner, where a dropped lantern had fallen on the foot of a heavy tapestry. If it was quiet now, it was the sort of quiet that promised worse to come.

Bad Guys

Someone asked me something the other day that I didn't have a ready answer for.

"Kraken," they asked me, inexplicably using my internet alias in an actual conversation, "in all the many wargames, roleplaying games and related hobby nonsense that you play, you always go for the bad guys. Why is that?"

"Don't ask me difficult questions!"

Break's Over

Back to the War. All these flying elves and manga robots - you start getting withdrawal after a while. I realise it had been over a month since I last painted either a horned helmet or a skull.

You know it's bad when you start seeing subliminal messages in a cushion shop.

I also had omens and portents, seen around Gothenburg as I wandered about. Things that told me I had strayed from the path and that the Dark Gods were not unaware.

Or when the Blood God appears to be behind building work at your local supermarket. 'Sweco' my ass.

EXT: Compact and Bijou

As you may have seen from some of the SkypeBoot photos, my terrain collection has recently acquired some nice new additions. Following a request from Kraken to elaborate on the grainy Skype images, let's look at them in some more detail...

"An attractive old building with distinct features."

Flappy

More for the armies of Mighty Kas!

Our recent High Elf romp clearly inspired Kas to get a Frostheart for his collection. I'm not surprised, it was a great big flappy thorn in my side. Anything that makes your opponent Always Strike Last is a worthy investment, frankly.

Despite still being bitter at having lost, I welcomed the chance to paint the bugger. Bluntly, I reckon the box job is (despite being crisply executed) poor. Why blend all the lovely snowflakes into the background of the feathers? Why paint the nice elven ruin on the base in boring grey? Why use pastel purple at all?

The dark mirror of offical schemes

I vaguely remember an old White Dwarf about the excellent Bretonnian Green Knight model, where they talked about warm vs cold greens. Perhaps some of it went in.