For my old Decimator, I sculpted muscles and sinews to better blend the armour and mechanical joints together.
The head could also do with some conversion work to make it more Nurglite, a single protruding horns, or some gas mask elements?
Defiler is just spot on - I'm glad you filled in the crevasses on the legs and suitably distressed them as well.
That could maybe work; I'll put the decimator on the back burner for a bit, though - it usually helps to come back to it.
Thanks - yep, it seems to work out great. And yes, it does a lot in removing the "necroness" from them.
Late to the party. And what a party it is. Absolutely fantastic work. As I said in one of your earlier threads, you, good sir, are a real artist in my books.
I'm wondering if you'd like to consider moving the left and right turbines of your daemon prince's jetpack closer to his body? Perhaps even the middle one too? I'm struggling to articulate myself, but I feel a degree of imbalance on the model's back and wonder if it'd help to build it more compact? Shorten the "arms" connecting to the turbines? - Just a thought though ...
Thanks a lot - really appreciate the kind words.
I've messed a lot with the turbines, and I keep coming back to this configuration, so it must work for me - but thank you for the suggestion!
I've written a bit of fluff - I enjoy fleshing out the characters in the army, and this first bit is the backstory of the Helbrute, Tugral the Unsane:
Tugral was once an apothecary of the 17th company of the legion. Upon the legion receiving Nurgles blessing, his healing skills were no longer needed, and he turned his attention towards the art of poison brewing and virus breeding. Plentiful were his inventions, and his skills were sought after by his lord, Pandemion, and allies alike. His most infamous concoction was the bonebreaker virus - a virus that affects the nervous system with blinding speed, and causes the victims muscles to spasm so violently that every bone in his body breaks over the course of a few minutes, leaving them as mewling, bonesless wrecks, ripe for harvesting by Nurgles diminutive followers. The Great Grandfather found great amusement in the “dance” of the victims, and rewarded his servant with many gifts and knowledge of ever more vile brews.
However paternal and caring the grandfather is, hubris makes him displeased. Pandemion had long carried a daemon weapon of great power, a plaguereaper scythe dipped in the pus from Nergals own bowels, and gifted to Pandemion. Tugral however, so caught up in his work and progress, was convinced that he could make the weapon even deadlier by concocting a new strain of virus and lacing the weapon with it, so he took the plaguereaper from Pandemions arming chamber without his masters knowledge, and started the process of scraping Nergals pus from the blade. This angered the grandfather greatly, that a mere mortal had the audacity to think he could make anything more virulent than the grandfather himself, so he decided to teach Tugral a lesson. As Tugral was working in the laboratory, Nurgle summoned a couple of Nurglings, that immediatly begun to wreak havoc in the laboratory, and by their masters bidding, they managed to knock over a vial of the Bonebreaker virus, much of it landing on Tugral. Tugral, like all of Nurgles followers, could laugh off any such malady, had it not been for the grandfather, at just the same moment, rectracting Tugrals unholy resilience. The effect was instantanious - Tugral tasted his own malady, and oh, how he suffered - he writhed and spasmed to the choir of every bone in his body breaking, and his screams echoed through the halls of the ship.
Pandemion, furious with his weapon missing, found the culprit on the floor of the laboratory hours later - little had he suspected that his trusted apothecary would be so foolish to both risk his lords and Nurgles wrath. What he found, however, bore little resemblance to Tugral - what he found on the floor was a babbling, boneless pile of meat, whimpering madly; “His gifts… They can be taken away… The Bonebreaker… All shall succumb to the Bonebreaker eventually…”
In the warp Nurgles laughter echoed, and he bade Pandemion not to take Tugrals life, since he enjoyed Tugrals suffering so. Pandemion ordered Tugrals body to be interred in a Helbrute sarcophagus, so he could make amends for his hubris, earning forgiveness on the battlefield.
What little of Tugrals sanity remained was soon ripped away from him, for he could no longer taste the poisons, feel the tingle of deadly strains or smell his victims bodily excretions - now all that is left of Tugral is a metal shell, carrying Tugrals rotting body, striding in the midst of the battlefield, screaming madly, again and again; “All shall suffer like me! All shall lay boneless!”, while tearing his enemies apart with fist and scourge.
Edited by GuitaRasmus, 17 August 2017 - 11:37 PM.