dispatches from terra incognita

Month: January 2015

Ruined Gothic Tower

While trolling in the Hirst Arts forums for inspiration awhile back, I ran across an interesting post. Someone was wishing for new plans of things to build with Hirst Arts blocks and someone else suggested taking existing projects and building them with blocks from different molds — using “gothic” blocks for a “fieldstone” project, for example.

Well, financial reality being what it is, I’d been stopping myself from purchasing the molds necessary to build the Ruined Fieldstone Tower. But, I had a plethora of gothic molds. I studied the tower plans and decided to try a new take on this project.

Laying blocks out on the plans, I began to see the challenges. Some of the fieldstone pieces — the arches in particular — did not have gothic analogues; at least not on any of the molds I owned. And I would have to make the “ruined” bits myself. Because of the random nature of the fieldstone pieces, Bruce used a lot of butt joints between walls that would look funny with regular gothic blocks.

I used Bruce’s plans as a starting point and made up the rest as I progressed. All of the corners had to be joined like a regular building so that the blocks would be properly staggered. Some of the arches could be replicated, but others had to be fabricated with extra “little” bricks glued on. One final vexation was the bit I chose as the top and bottom of the columns. It was a piece from the Gothic Church that, too bad for me, was only on the mold once. So, I had to cast that little piece about 2,000,000 times to finish the project.

The part I thought would be fun (but wasn’t so much) was ruining blocks for the top edge. They were carved up easily enough with an Exacto knife or box cutter, but I fussed endlessly to get it to look like “natural” destruction.

Bruce added a tree to the little well/pool in the courtyard, which looked suitably dramatic and spooky, but I thought it might make it hard to maneuver figures in an already cramped space. I opted for some stones and murky water.

When I set to work on the base, it hadn’t occurred to me that I could’t really do the “gothic” gray paint job, as that was how I had painted the tower. So, I used his “earth tones” — the colors he uses for fieldstone buildings. I don’t love it for stone, but I needed some contrast. I also wasn’t convinced by his tutorial on how to carve foam to look like rocks. I did a bit under the tower itself, but the rest in my usual, hurried manner. In the photographs, I don’t mind his method, though, so I may try it again in the future.

I did finally get the fieldstone mold for Christmas (but not the one with the ruined bits, so I still can’t do the original tower), so you might notice I added the skulls. I’m not sure if they are quite the thing, but… One might spy a gargoyle perched upon the column to the right of them. Him, I like.

All it needs for completion is some drab greenery. I’ve got suitable flock; Bruce used “coarse turf,” which I have too, but mine is bright and cheery and would ruin the mood. I’ll get the right stuff and then decide.

In the final shots, it appears that the tower has been garrisoned by the self-same jaundiced goblins who debuted on this blog a few weeks ago.

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Goblins of the Old School

I submit this little vignette as confirmation that I completed another dozen Bones — “Dungeon Attack” goblins, this time; compadres of the kobolds I knocked out last week.

IMG_0425Following Chris Palmer’s lead, I eschewed green and sought guidance from my venerable 1/e AD&D Monster Manual: “Goblins range from yellow through dull orange to brick red in their skin color.” Chris chose orange, so I bit for yellow.

I used a limited palette of midnight blue for the clothes, yellow skin, brick red for the Hittite hats, and gold for the weaponry. (For some reason, all my bad guys wield gold, while the good guys prefer silver…). So, when they all showed up for a skirmish in my gothic dungeon, they were particularly irascible because they had all worn the same dress. Oh, well… at least one can see they’re all on the same team.

I’ll also make mention that I’ve gone almost entirely over to craft paints now. I have a post percolating concerning my evolution as a mediocre painter. The short version is that I used to be a so-so painter using expensive paints, now I’m a comme ci comme painter using paint I buy at Walmart.

Paint Table Saturday + 24

Here’s the paint table as of yesterday. A frenetic hodgepodge mirroring the mind of the painter (but not really in that good creative way, more’s the pity).

Scattered about you see several Hirst Arts pieces in various states of completion. The kobolds from earlier could still be found still skulking about, four or so rebased Heroclix, and the primed chaps and chapettes to the right are Foundry Darkest Africa.

Loitering Kobolds

Though a week late in appearing, here you see here the culmination of my winter break’s industry. Another set of Reaper Bones painted — a dozen kobolds up to no good, no doubt.

The GULP

The very first minis I purchased in my adulthood were a passel of western figures from Monday Knight Productions. They turned out to be a mixture of 25 and 28mm, as I really didn’t know the difference then, and the site doesn’t seem to differentiate. This was nearly 15 years ago, and these wee desperadoes formed the core of my Great Unpainted Lead Pile, or GULP, which also happens to be the sound I utter when I behold its vastness.

Soon thereafter I became enamored of colonial and VSF figures, and made several big purchases from Wargames Foundry, both the Darkest Africa and Western ranges. I think I may have acquired some Old Glory Pirates next (which, I just realized, invalidates my claim a few days back that Mega Minis civilians were my first post-70’s FLGS miniature purchase; I plundered the OG scurvy dogs from the dearly departed War Room in Atlanta).

Falling under the spell of 15mm VSF, I was able to increase the numbers of figures I purchased for the same amount of money. I became an enthusiast for Irregular Miniatures, which remains, I believe, an acquired taste. Reading Wind in the Willows and Redwall to my little boys resulted in a few strategic buys from Splintered Light (those little boys are both teenagers now, one poised to leave for college; the armed mice remain bare metal). With lamb-like dutifulness I followed internet advice to purchase boardgames (Descent, Battle Lore, Super Dungeon Explore) for more figures. I fell hook, line, and lead sinker for the 10mm craze, thinking that 5mm less to paint might get things going. Then the Reaper Bones Kickstarter ambushed me.


Oh, well…

I should note that during this 15 year period, my rate of purchasing far exceeded the rate of painting. Among many curses of the internet is that innocent eyes are exposed to examples of painting skills that far exceed one’s own. No matter how many tips and tutorials I read, my little people never ended up looking like those gorgeous models online. Oh, I could slap a coat of paint on the Irregular fellows, as the usual comment one hears is that “they look disappointing out of the box, but paint up nicely…” But those ladies and gentlemen from the Foundry were expensive and the examples online are so pretty… So, they languished among many others in the GULP. (As you may have detected in the above list, the GULP comprises plastic as well as lead, and, when you think about it, probably contains no lead at all, as I don’t think they use that anymore).

Now, I’m also thoroughly fastidious as well as avaricious, so, I will make clear, mine was not a messy mass of lead. I washed and ogled each and every figure upon arrival. Some sat out for awhile, perhaps dreaming that they might be reborn in glorious technicolor. The vast majority were eventually packed neatly away in boxes, bagged and labelled in anticipation of the day when their turn would come.

In fact, I devised quite the system. Minis “at bat” would be scattered about the painting table (of which I’ve had a number through the years). To the left is the current batch, including some Bones goblins, Foundry Victorians, and a Brigade Games Stealth Squad I bought for a reason that is lost to me. There were 12 Bones kobolds there until yesterday evening.

Minis “on deck” are based and likely primed, and I’ve taken to storing them in stacking tupperware containers from Walmart to keep the dust off. Basing and priming is easy and hints at the promise that I might actually work on a figure. So, there are many, many miniatures “on deck.”

Finally, the sad souls “in the hole” are packed in photo boxes with attractive “old map” prints on the outside.

Lately things have become a bit more lax, as the Super Dungeon Explore figures did get primed, and so are theoretically on deck, but are still piled in the box I primed ’em in.

 

And the Reaper box is just one big overwhelming jumble. (And, yes, lest you worry, the Bones II box is on its way as well.)

 


Of all things, I spent about a year fabricating my own figures out of clothes pegs, the sordid story of which is elsewhere detailed. I will credit my experience of both the Square Pegs and the Reaper Bones with my painting renaissance. Painting Square Pegs was transformational because, well, in the end, it’s just a clothespin. It’s only gonna look so good. And, though the Bones are festooned with excruciating detail, they are just bendy plastic guys and gals, not the solid metal “clean limbed chaps” I bought from Foundry all those years ago. Somehow, it didn’t feel as serious painting plastic —the stakes were not as high — so I made more headway.

I hope that I will be able to maintain the momentum of productivity initiated on this break. To my credit, I have essentially halted buying new miniatures, out of sheer embarrassment as much as anything, so I guess I’m participating in one of those “Pledges” people talk about. At some point I’ll feel sufficiently positive about my progress and find some new pretties that I can’t live without.

Much like my credit card debt, the GULP keeps me getting up each morning and going back to work.

Satisfaction Unforeseen

One of the bones they throw to public school teachers is periodic respite to recover from post-traumatic stress. It is my custom to fill these breaks with sufficient industry that my return to the kindergartners is a welcome relief.

During the past two weeks, for example, I constructed a brace of bookshelf headboards for my sons’ beds, performed the usual chores on our acre farm, and indulged in a mess of hobbying. The Mega Minis townsfolk featured yesterday were, in fact, the third substantial project I completed. The second was one I hadn’t anticipated. [The first was making a gaming mat from an old bed sheet, caulk, and lots of flock].

My older son is a superhero enthusiast and for a time, years back, he amassed a modest collection of Heroclix and Heroscape figures. He played both games a bit with friends, pitted them against Lego constructions, and then eventually allowed them to gather dust. At the onset of this break, he challenged me to a super-heroic skirmish on the new wargames table (which I built on the last break…). We decided to give Ganesha Games’ Power Legion a whirl. The sole spanner in the works was that I cannot abide those enormous click bases.

[As an aside, I’ve always considered myself to be an imaginative person. One would think, therefore, that I could employ said imagination to overlook the occasional gigantic rulebook or bottle of soda nestled among the scenery. Sadly, this is not the case. I find that with the little people and terrain I paint and build, a certain quantity of verisimilitude is essential. So, the click bases had to go.]

Rebasing the Clix was an unexpected detour, but I found the process thoroughly pleasant. Since I didn’t do the paint jobs on the figures (and had no intention of repainting them), I could ignore their simplicity. It came as a surprise (as always) how spectacular the Chick Lewis Magic Wash makes paltry painting skills appear. Please to forgive the cellphone photos — I’ll admit that a fruitless quest for the perfect set up to photograph my creations is one among many reasons that I haven’t posted in æons.

Finished at Last

In order to keep some self-exacted promises, I will likely inflict upon you an uptick in posts on this blog. It is my intention in the newly-arrived year both to write more and to make a dent in the GULP (the Great Unpainted Lead Pile) that lives in the closet.

This motley crew of civilians come to us from the much-missed Mega Miniatures. They remain, I believe, my sole purchase at a FLGS (which has moved, expanded, and undergone a name change between the time I purchased and painted these lovelies…) since 1970-something.

The poor souls have loitered, based and primed, for every bit of two years before sat down to dash on a coat of paint. Note well that I do not submit them as exemplars of any sort of painting skill. Rather, they have lifted my spirits on this first day of the new year by the simple fact that they are finished at last!

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