Heavy breathing and sounds of struggle can be heard beneath a thick buzz of static.

The sound of a void-sealed door opening can be heard.

UNKNOWN FIGURE #1: You killed him!

UNKNOWN FIGURE #2 (theorised to be Magos Herebeorht Wester): No, I did not. I gave him life.




As I said in my previous post, inspiration struck as soon as I got up this morning. The two on the left are more are less finished, whereas the Magos and the servitor walking his dog require a fair bit more work.


Elektrik Mausoleum

I’ve always wanted to create and flesh out a world in the 40k universe. It’s fun, for one thing, and it also provides inspiration for models, terrain and even armies. Recently I’ve been drooling over Apologist’s thread over on the ammobunker (and also his blog, Death of a Rubricist) and his Court of the Sunne Cyng is everything I want to do – an original world, fantastic writing and great models that capture the feeling of a decaying super-state perfectly. However, no matter sincere flattery base imitation may be, I can’t just copy him. It’d be obvious for one thing, and for another I could never hope to reach the lofty heights of Hobby Perfection which he bestrides with ease. I need something new, and luckily I’ve been thinking and planning something along these lines for quite a while.

It was mishearing the lyrics to a Duran Duran song that sparked an ember of inspiration. Soon enough, a Sepulchre World whose main industry was mourning and mortuary statuary, and whose main export was embalming fluid was conceived. A world almost entirely covered in graveyards and necropoles, bar a couple of hives and an AdMech fiefdom producing servitors and the aforementioned embalming fluid on an industrial scale (shockingly enough). No world in 40k is complete without endemic corruption, cult activity and a depressed and oppressed citizenry, and so there’s a foul necrophiliac slaaneshi cult amongst some members of the debased nobility, the embalming fluid coming from the Forge-Fief seems to have some very odd side effects and mourners troop in their thousands to mass funerals, shackled together and herded by Funerary Priests of the Ecclesiarchy. In terms of hobby, this will lead to several small projects (and some large) that will eventually merge together into something hopefully fairly impressive. The projects are as follows.

Gaming table: This will be 6×4, and serve as four distinct areas. The 4×3 section in the middle will be modular, and will eventually house the titular Elektrik Mausoleum, Vivificabit/Mortis#923-ADO (the embalming fluid factory), a Necropolis and the Cathedral of the Emperor’s Mercy. Below is a very crude paint representation of the way the board will be laid out. Many Gardens of Morr will be sacrificed to achieve this, and it allows for a campaign to be played using just one board. Where I’m going to store it on the other hand, Emperor alone knows.


With regard to miniatures, this provides me with a number of little groups to build for each different area, and maybe even an Inquisitor and his retinue investigating all the dark and horrific goings-on.

The Forge needs a Magos Biologis (named Herebeorht Wester), along with a few Adepts and some servitors. I have actually begun work on these as I was struck by inspiration when I woke up this morning. Maybe it’s gotten so bad I’m even dreaming of Inq28. The linking factor here will be fluids and implements. The Mausoleum needs the Cult, obviously, and some Rotting Courtesans. The idea here is to make two distinct groups, one male and one female, for the cult itself, and the Courtesans will be a mixture of the two. I’m thinking the visual motif here will be furs and intestines. The Temple will need some Funerary Priests and Mourners. Probably one High Priest, a few lower orders and a whole bunch of indentured mourners. Here, censers and veils will tie them together. As for the Necropolis, a gang will have made its base here, along with some feral cannibals and a few rogue servitors.

My reach most definitely exceeds my grasp, but I’m very excited about working on this.


I’m fairly bad at keeping a blog. I warned you in the About Me page about this, but I thought I’d just reinforce it. Sometimes I’m working on something and don’t want to break the flow in order to photograph and write about it, and other times I just can’t face making a post. These are the paltry reasons I offer for my frequent gaps and silences.

Onto better things – my Mongol Goblin army for AoS is starting to come in and with the imminent release of the BoP set a 30/40K Dark Angels army may also be on the horizon.

However, in between these larger, simpler projects are the little waystations of INQ28, at once small and deep. I’ve been working on The Death Of Samothrace for some little while now, tweaking and thinking as she went through iterations. She’s almost ready for some paint now, when the weather cheers up and I’m certain I’ve finished with her. Incorporating equal inspiration from the Angel of Death in Hellboy 2, the Winged Victory of Samothrace from the Louvre and Orthodox ikons of biblical angels, she’s faintly disturbing.


Death of an Innocent

Pict-Capture of the Procession of Forgiveness, Balthar Primus, M40


Stark moonlight, filtered through the void shields and reflecting off the uncounted windows of the Hive cast harsh shadows against the towering hab-blocks on either side of the processional way. Workers and their families lay in blackness, either sleeping or pretending to. No lights were kindled – none of them wanted to draw any attention to themselves.

Slowly, clanking and shuffling, the group made its way down the processional. Coals fell from the brazier mounted on top of a terrible machine and left ash and embers on the ancient floor. Come day-shift apothecaries would collect the leftovers and sell them as a pain relief poultice. Smoke and incense wound their way into the cold night, glimmering from the light of candles and glowing coals. He had been free of taint, both mentally and physically, but had not the stamina for vindication. What was left of him hung from the same banner that proclaimed his innocence.

A juve, peering through his hands saw them pass by his window. At the head was the Absolver, chanting the doleful litany of the Prayer for Suffering Souls. A servo-skull buzzed behind him, its internal grav-lift unit almost overloaded with the tools of its ministrations. Three shuffling acolytes surrounded the dread machine, a walking altar of confession. Their augmetic limbs jerked and sparked spastically. One of them seemed to catch his eye and the boy flung himself back into the welcoming shadows of his room, hyperventilating and making the sign of the Aquila with his hands.

At length, the dim glow receded along with the noise and the boy dared to look again. The street was empty save for ashes and blood.


Absolver Donatien de Rais


The Altar of Confession








Interrogator WIP

I wasn’t happy with the Interrogator from my current project, and a comment over on the ammobunker sparked the idea that he would be leading a procession in order to suitably terrify the local population into full compliance. With that in mind, powered by lemsip and superglue fumes, I committed this act of mindless vandalism.


Redemption Through Pain

Despite suffering the tender blessings of Grandfather Nurgle (more commonly known as manflu) I have managed to do some hobby recently. Apart from my Dark Eldar, who are not currently fit to be photographed, I have also been struck with some Inq28spiration. Or possibly just feverish delusion, it’s hard to be certain.



Table of Torment




Torture Skull


Should be able to get some paint of them this Saturday, which gives me tomorrow to do some cleaning up and a little extra work on them all.

WIP on a most noble heretic.

As The Death of Samothrace requires a little more thinking and dry fitting of parts before I embark on that project, I decided to start on Pontius Glaw as I thought I had most of the bits I would need. The first mockup, after some initial removal of Imperial iconography, looks a little rough. I think I need to reduce the size of the arms, as he looks a little like a robotic ape at the moment. Anyway, here he is held together with bluetack at a very early stage.


The Beldame Walks

“The Beldame herself had entered the chamber. She walked on eight, spider legs, a huge augmetic chassis of hooked arachnid limbs that skittered on the stones. Inquisitor Atelath, Emperor grant him rest, had destroyed her real legs one hundred and fifty years before my birth. She was veiled in black gauze that looked like cobwebs. I could actually feel her evil like a fever sweat.” – Malleus, Dan Abnett



Late Update

Aah, it’s been too long since I posted an update. Been busy at work, and also concentrating on building my Gorechosen board (pics of which at some point). However- Beldame Sadia is now sort of painted, if not best. I sort of fell out of love with the model after priming and it was a bit of a slog to get her this far. She looks horrendously dirty, but I hope that the basing will tone it down and tie it in.



I couldn’t resist taking a picture of the finished Brass Thief in a way that payed homage to his first appearance in Ravenor Returns.

‘The Brass Thief rose to its feet. Smoke poured off it, gusted from its awakening. It was thin, wrapped in segmented plates of gold and brass, faceless but for eye slits in the high-crested helm.

“The incunabula is awake,” Keener whispered.

“Tell it to feast,” Culzean said.’


I also finished painting Herod Puginus. I wish I had Kaptin Badrukk’s hat somewhere in my bitzbox, but it should be trivial enough to add should I ever get my grubby mitts on it.

Lord-Captain Rogue Trader Herod Puginus strode down the corridor, his ornate boots clinking off the polished metal floor. This trip to the Halo Stars was risky, to be certain, but the profit that could be made was immense, even by his standards. The away team had returned with their haul of xenos artifacts which he was sure he could sell for ruinous sums to the idle nobles of the subsector.

Archovator Gibbs was standing in front of a void-sealed plasteel chest along with two others.

“Where are the others?” Puginus asked, before seeing the look on Gibbs’ face and halting his stride. “Merciful Emperor man, you look like you’ve seen a revenant!”

“I beg you Captain, return this crate to the surface, back to the bodies and the howling and leave this place. We were damned foolish to come here, and now we’re just damned.”

“Nonsense, Gibbs, nonsense. The tales about the Halo Stars are put about by superstitious Ecclesiarchs and the Inquistion to prevent noble seekers of profit from exploiting the ancient and valuable archo-xenos artifacts available for the taking.”

Puginus noticed the large object Gibbs was clutching in his hand. In shape it resembled a censer from a temple service, but it had a greenish tint to the metal and green light seemed to dance within. He felt a sudden urge to hold it, to have it in his hands.

“Gibbs, give that to me. Can’t have you handling the merchandise!”

Archovator Simeon Gibbs suddenly shrieked, shocking all present, and launched himself towards the lander they had used to reach the desolate planet below. With practiced ease, Herod Puginus pulled his ancient shuriken pistol from the holster on his hip and reduced Gibbs to a pile of shredded red meat. The artifact seemed to take in the blood, and the lights inside glowed brighter. So bright.

The Marcus Crassus drifted in the void, near the border with Imperial space. Occasional gouts of venting atmosphere blew from parts of the hull. No heat signature was detectable within. The thing stalked the corridors, avoiding the fallen pipes and sparking cables. It wasn’t hungry, as such, Just bored. Cyclopean cities filled its mind, along with eerie alien songs not heard since millenia before the Elthir took their first tentative steps onto maiden worlds.    

Yes, bored. It tasted the concept with its mind, finding it strange and yet somewhat familiar. A deep sense of horror and panic welled up from deep inside and after a moment it savoured the sensation. Bored.