Don’t see your name here? That’s because you haven’t told me you want to participate this year. It’s certainly not too late (it never really is), so if you want in, let me know in the comments below, drop me an an email at angrypiper@angrypiper.com, or PM me on Instagram @angrypiper. I will add your name and website/IG account (if applicable) to the blogroll forthwith! If you don’t have either of those and still want to take part, no problem! I’ll host your images here on this very site.
My Discord server has been a bit barren lately since I stopped running RPGs, but I plan on making every effort to be in The Paint Pit this month while I work on my monsters. That’s usually between the hours of 5:30-7:30 PM (EST) on weekdays here in the States, and anytime I can get to myself on the weekends when I don’t have errands to run or surprise plans or projects that aren’t my projects suddenly becoming my projects (IYKYK). Can’t promise I’ll be there every day, but if I’m not, feel free to hang out and meet some of the other participants, if so inclined. Don’t have an invitation to my Discord server and want one? Read this first, and then contact me.
Now what the hell are you waiting for? Go paint some monsters! There’s only 30 .5 days left (less if you’re in Europe)!
It’s only a few more days to the start of my sixth annual Monster May(hem) Painting Challenge! Do you have your monsters picked out yet?
What is Monster May(hem)? Why, it’s the month you paint monsters, of course. Any monster will do, although it should be a proper MONSTER, something big and mean. I mean something truly beastly; like a cockatrice or a byakhee or a giant, mutated zombie bear. Your monster(s) doesn’t have to be strictly a fantasy miniature, and it may be any scale and from any manufacturer. I will link to your stuff throughout the month, and (if it’s not there already) add your blog/website/social media to the blogroll on the side! If you don’t have a site of your own and still want to participate, I’ll happily host your pictures here and ensure you get proper attribution!
How many monsters you paint is up to you. The minimum is one, of course; but feel free to do as many as you like. The only caveat is that they get painted sometime in May.
But wait! There’s more! 2024 is also the Year of the Dragon, and in celebration of my nonexistent Chinese heritage I am hosting yet ANOTHER painting challenge all year long. You guessed it! It involves painting at least one dragon over the course of the year. Dragons are monsters, so if you paint a dragon miniature in May, it counts for BOTH challenges!!
I picked up this board game not too long ago, and I decided to paint the miniatures as part of my “Paint 100 Miniatures You Already Own Before Buying Anything New” challenge to myself. As of my last post, I had only painted two miniatures so far this year. Pretty dismal output, but hopefully that’s on the upswing.
As you can see, these miniatures aren’t too bad. They’re about 40mm or so, but don’t quote me on that as I didn’t actually measure them. The game is based on the first (and best) Indiana Jones movie: Raiders of the Lost Ark. You can play as Indy, Marion, Sallah, or Marcus Brody (who else were they gonna choose, Jock?).
Here are my painted versions.
I’m mostly happy with them, except I might need to tidy up Indy’s raccoon eyes a bit. The astute among you may notice this game (which I haven’t played) comes with some kind of apparatus for tipping the hourglass, which presumably contains the eponymous Sands of Adventure. I plan on painting this too, maybe as part of the Season of Scenery.
But wait! There’s more! Not one to miss an opportunity, I decided that while I was painting these, I could paint their smaller counterparts, i.e., these old Indiana Jones TSR Miniatures from 1985. After all, I was using the right colors already…
As you can see, most of these miniatures suck. They’re also made of that shitty metal TSR used in their miniatures line. I have railed about this shitty metal before, that it’s prone to metal rot and seemingly defies paint. The miniatures I have are actually rot-free (so far), so I wasted no time in priming and rebasing them.
Anyone else notice Indy can tie his shoes without bending over? Look at the arms on him!
The boxed set contains miniatures from the first two movies. I decided to paint the Raiders miniatures first. I’ll get to Temple of Doom soon. The first three were conveniently also part of the Sands of Adventure game, so I painted them right alongside each other.
Some folks will never have their face melted off for gazing upon the true face of God, and then there’s these three: L-R: Colonel Deitrich, Belloq and Toht. I lost count of how many times I re-primed and painted Toht’s hat brim. Damn thing just didn’t want to accept paint at all.
This little project brought my total painted miniatures this year from 2 to 12 (so far). Still not a great output, but I’m on my way. In other news, I’m also challenging myself to “Read 100 Books You Own Before You Buy Any New Books”. I’m on book 22 so far, and I’m reading stuff that’s been on my to-be-read shelf for years (in some cases, decades), so I seem to be doing better at that.
Folks haven’t seen hide nor hair of me around here (or anywhere else on the Internet) for almost three months. I’d like to say it’s because I’ve been busy painting miniatures, specifically a dragon or two, but I can’t say that, because I have painted a total of four miniatures this year, and none are dragons. Instead, I have been mostly playing Red Dead Redemption 2 (at last), and writing scenarios for RPGs I will likely never run or play. Case in point: The Adventures of Indiana Jones; published by TSR in 1984, which is when I bought it at the tender age of 11.
The TSR Indiana Jones RPG has a bit of a reputation, and it’s for being a piece of dogshit. I find that assessment a tad harsh, but it is not a good game by any means. It’s got some serious problems, most infamously the lack of a character creation system. Players take on the roles of Indiana Jones and his friends. Since the game was published shortly after the second Indiana Jones film, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Indy’s friends are made up of his companions in the first two movies (sadly, no Henry Jones, Sr.). Marion Ravenwood and Sallah from Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Willie Scott and Short Round from Temple of Doom. I guess TSR thought five characters wasn’t enough, so they also included statistics for Jock Lindsey, the pilot from the beginning of Raiders (“There’s a big snake in the plane, Jock!”) and Wu Han, the waiter from Club Obi-Wan who gets shot amidst a cacophony of champagne corks almost immediately in Temple of Doom. Both these characters have maybe three lines of dialogue and less than two minutes of screen time in their respective films, but either one of them is preferable to playing the insufferable Willie Scott.
Herein lies the problem. The question rapidly presents itself: who wants to play a game about Indiana Jones and not play as Indiana Jones? What person is going to want to devote an evening of roleplaying to playing Willie Scott? Not too many people, judging by the dismal sales of the game at a time when both TSR’s boxed games and the Indiana Jones IP were both extremely popular. There was even a TV commercial about them.
The game had a few published adventures, but two of them were just the first two movies adapted as RPG adventures. (How fun!) The game was designed with miniatures in mind, and both the core box and all the published adventures had cardboard, trifold miniatures of characters, NPCs, and even scenery. There was one box set of metal miniatures released as well, and they’re pretty hard to come by (I have them).
So what are the other problems? Well, in addition to no character creation, there’s no character development, either. Indiana Jones and friends will always have the same statistics and know the same languages and skills no matter how many adventures you play. Skills are pretty basic, yet there are skills in the book that no player character has. There’s no mechanic to learn a new skill or language, or use one you don’t have (unless you roll a Lucky Break, which is a 5% chance of success).
The boxed set contains a rulebook, a character dossier booklet (the cover of which doubles as a battle map for miniatures), and a GM screen. You can get away without using the battle map or the miniatures (we never did), but you need everything else to play the game. Several important tables only appear on the GM screen and are not printed in the core rulebook (who knows why?). This means, of course, that if you’re looking for this game on the secondary market, it will be unplayable unless you have a complete game. No getting away with just the rulebook.
So what’s GOOD about it? Well, not much. I recall running it a few times, but with only one player (who played Indy, of course).The introductory adventure is meh and somewhat problematic (it takes place in Africa and features a villain named Solomon Black who is, of course, Black; as well as some questionable depictions of tribesmen), but it does a good job of teaching the rules. It’s designed for one player and one GM and is presented in chapters throughout the rulebook, each one focusing on the preceding relevant rules section. There’s also a pretty interesting chase mechanic in the game that uses a chase flow chart to simulate random twists, turns, dead-ends and hazards. I don’t think we ever used it, but I’d give it a go now, maybe even for use in another game. That’s about it.
TSR lost the license to this game fairly quickly and the game didn’t last long. Nothing was released after 1985, and I don’t think it was ever supported in Dragon magazine. No (legal) PDF exists, and the game isn’t available for download at any of the usual sites. It’s a dead game–until now. Last week I dug out my boxed set and had a look through it. I even found one of the old adventures I wrote as a teenager (Indy goes looking for an old Spanish galleon). Then I got inspired, and for the past week and a half, I’ve been writing a NEW Indiana Jones adventure for use with this game.
To be clear: no one I know (besides me) still owns this game. No one I know (besides me) is producing any content for it. No one I know (besides me) likes anything about it, if they know anything about it at all. And finally, no one I know (besides me) actually wants to play it ever again. No one is asking for this. And yet I’m still working on it, and loving every minute of it.
According to the Chinese zodiac, 2024 (technically, February 10th) begins the Year of the Dragon. That’s a pretty cool name for a year. I, myself, was born in the Year of the Rat. Contain your surprise.
Anyway, this year I thought I would start a new painting challenge: Paint a dragon miniature sometime in 2024. Paint at least one. Paint more than one if you feel the urge. Take as long as you like. You have 366 days to do so. It’s a leap year.
Now, those of you in the know know that I host a painting challenge in May called Monster May(hem), in which the goal is to paint monsters in May. I am a big believer in efficiency. If you paint a dragon in May, it not only counts for the Year of the Dragon, it also counts for Monster May(hem). It’s a win-win. I have several dragon miniatures awaiting paint. Some have been awaiting paint for decades, some for merely a few weeks. I’m not making promises on which dragons or how many dragons I will paint this year. But I promise I will paint at least one, barring unforeseen death.
So, paint a dragon, why don’t ya? I might paint this classic Ral Partha Sandra Garrity sculpt I have had hanging around since 1990.
I may paint the new Epic Encounters Red Dragon I bought as a doorbuster on Miniature Market’s Black Friday sale. I may paint a Reaper dragon (they have a lot of good ones), or an old-school, metal Grenadier miniature. Or maybe I’ll order one of the thousands of 3-D printed dragons available on Etsy. Maybe I’ll paint them all.
Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll paint just one.
Now, lest you think I’m limiting this to “true” dragons, I’m not. Wyverns, hydras, dragon turtles, dragonnes, drakes, pseudodragons; even undead dragons count. Dragons from the Orient are likewise encouraged. I might paint one of those, too.
Just paint a dragon sometime in 2024, an you get to mark the challenge as done.
It’s that time again, when we look back on the past year and look forward towards the next one. Traditionally, it’s the time to review what I’ve accomplished here, and what I plan to do next year.
So, what have I accomplished in 2023? Not much. I’ve painted fewer miniatures this past year than in any year in recent memory. I haven’t played a RPG since March, and have no plans to do so again. My Discord server is a barren, empty wasteland, and don’t get me started on my personal life.
I did write a RPG, run it twice and have two other groups playtest it without my involvement. It seems to be generally well-received, so I should get around to publishing it at some point. That means I need to commission more artwork and learn how to do layout.
So, no big resolutions for 2024, unlike in years past. Rather, I’m going to limit myself a bit. I’m taking inspiration from the many “paint what you’ve got” challenges out there, and I’m planning on doing that all of next year. So, in 2024, I resolve to:
Paint what I’ve got: If I painted one miniature a day for the rest of my life, I would never come close to painting all the unpainted miniatures I have; and as this year’s output can attest, I don’t work anywhere near that fast. So, no new miniature purchases in 2024. Whatever I paint is coming from the pile of shame, and I will not add to it next year.
Read what I’ve got: Although I am an avid (and fast) reader, I have several hundred books I have yet to read, many thousands on my shelves, and I keep buying books as if I’m preparing for a lengthy prison term. In 2024, I’m not buying any new (or used) books. I need to pare down my TBR pile and get rid of the stuff I will never read again. That’s the hardest part. I have a collector’s mentality when it comes to things I love, whether it’s comics, books, miniatures or games (both video and rpgs), and parting is sweet sorrow.(Caveat: I have been on the lookout for certain volumes that regularly sell for stupid prices. If I find one of those at reasonable cost, I’m buying it.)
No new painting challenges: Between Monster May(hem), Forgotten Heroes and the Season of Scenery, I get stretched pretty thin. This past year I also did the “Ogre” challenge in September, where we all painted the same miniature sculpted by friend of the blog Dave Stone; tried (and mostly failed) to paint some Grenadier orcs for Orctober; and hosted Dwarvember last month. I think I’ll limit myself to MM, FH and SoS in 2024, with one exception:
The Year of the Dragon: According to the Chinese zodiac, 2024 is the Year of the Dragon, so what better time to paint a dragon miniature? I have several awaiting paint (some for much longer than others). I propose a year-long challenge: paint at least one dragon sometime in 2024, and hey–if you do it in May, you meet the criteria for Year of the Dragon AND Monster May(hem)! Since it’s a 12-month challenge, there’s little in the way of time crunch to consider. I’ll post more about this soon.
Post more often: They say blogging is dead, and I can see why; but I like having a blog, and I like reading the blogs of others. This past year, I posted once in January, twice in March, four times in April, four times in May, four times in June, once in July and August, twice in September, twice in October, three times in November, and (counting this) three times in December. That’s a total of 27 posts, most of them related to painting challenges. That’s really not a lot when you think about it. I enjoyed my deep-dive into Star Frontiers, and my list of my Top-10 RPGs of All Time, and my Crimson Hound parody AARs. I’d like to do more of that kind of thing, considering I’m not painting as often as I used to.
That’s it. A mellow end to 2023. Time to see what I can finish up out of the side pile before the clock strikes midnight on the 1st.
The Crimson Hound followed the directions of the Gingerbread Man, arriving at a seemingly-deserted warehouse in the late hours of Christmas Eve. Conveniently for the Crimson Hound, it was located on a bus route, and as luck would have it, the warehouse stored gargoyles for eventual placement atop the corners of Glumengrad buildings. The Crimson Hound perched atop one, silently watching events unfold below.
Someone had cleared most of the warehouse floor and drawn a huge pentagram in red. You didn’t need to be a vampire to recognize the red as blood, but the Crimson Hound was, in fact, a vampire; and he recognized it immediately as blood. The Crimson Hound knew that entagrams drawn on the floor in blood rarely indicated good times ahead. These idiots had no idea what they were doing. The last time Santa summoned Savirax the Unclean, the blasphemous monstrosity almost destroyed the world.
As if on cue, a group of five chanting figures approached the pentagram from the shadows on each side. The group on the left wore purple robes, while the group on the right were dressed in green hoods. The chanting faltered as they saw each other, then stopped altogether.
“What the hell, Bob?” asked one of the purple-clad cultists. “What the fuck are you guys wearing?”
“I thought it was green hoods and grey boiler suits tonight!” one of the green-hooded cultists–probably Bob–exclaimed. “What are YOU wearing?”
“Dude, do you ever check your email? I sent it to you last week! It’s supposed to be purple tonight!” The purple-robed cultist seemed genuinely irate.
“Never got it,” said Bob, reaching for his cell phone.
“Oh, bullshit, Bob!”
“Look!” said Bob, holding up his phone. “Oh, wait…I did get it. It went in my spam folder.”
These guys are fucking idiots, thought the Crimson Hound. Apparently, someone else did, too. “Who gives a shit what you’re wearing?!” came a booming voice from the shadows. “You’re all going to die tonight anyway! Take your places, morons!” With some bitter mumbling and grumbling, the two groups assembled around the pentagram. The group of five green-hooded cultists stood in the center, while a purple-robed cultist took up a position at each point of the star.
What looked like a tall, anthropomorphic rabbit stepped into the light. “Once the Gingerbread Man arrives, we’ll be ready to begin.”
Seemed like as good a time as any. The Crimson Hound dropped from his gargoyle perch. “He’s not going to make it tonight,” said the Crimson Hound, taking a moment to wipe some telltale golden-brown crumbs from around his mouth.
“IT’S…THE CRIMSON HOUND!!!” cried the Easter Bunny, who the Crimson Hound realized was not an actual bunny, just some guy in a dirty rabbit costume.
“Yep,” said the Crimson Hound.
“Aww, man,” said one of the cultists. “I knew we shouldn’t have set up shop in a gargoyle warehouse!. It’s like we were begging for this to happen.”
“That’s right, you ignorant poltroon!” said the Easter Bunny. ” We KNEW he’d show up!” The Easter Bunny turned to the Crimson Hound. “You fell right into our trap! You think you can just get away with killing Santa Claus? Think again, asshole!”
“Let me guess,” said the Crimson Hound. “You were friends?”
“No!” sputtered the Easter Bunny, angrily hopping from foot to foot. “Santa was a fucking prick! But if you think we’re gonna let you set a precedent–“
“We?” asked the Crimson Hound. “Who’s we? You mean these clowns? Do you now how many henchmen I kill in a given week?”
“No, not these imbeciles,” The Easter Bunny laughed.The henchmen were feeling pretty despondent at all these insults, but no one could see their crestfallen looks under their hoods. “I brought other friends, you jerk.” The Easter Bunny gestured to his right, where a massive form lumbered out of the darkness. It was big and orange and carried a rusty scythe in its hands. “Behold the avatar of Halloween, Crimson Hound: The Great Pumpkin!”
“Hello,” said the Great Pumpkin, nodding his massive jack o’ lantern head in greeting.
“‘Hi,” said The Crimson Hound.
“And here,” the Easter Bunny pointed to his left, “representing…um…St. Patrick’s Day is…uh… Finnegan Feeney!” A man stepped out of the shadows. His face was red with burst capillaries and he wore a tam o’ shanter atop his curly grey hair. He held a long, churchwarden pipe in his hand, from which issued a plume of white smoke.
“Jaysis, ’tis himself,” said Finnegan Feeney. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, boyo!”
“You gotta be kidding me,” said the Crimson Hound. “Who the actual fuck is this?”
The Easter Bunny looked embarrassed. “Look…Cupid isn’t returning my calls, so no Valentine’s Day avatar. I tried St. Patrick, but he reminded me what you did to St. Nicholas, and said, and I quote, ‘no fucking way’. So, I tried to find a leprechaun, but it turns out they don’t exist. I had to make do with this ridiculously offensive ethnic stereotype. Anyway, I don’t need to explain myself to you, you asshole! Fuck off!”
Finnegan Feeney removed a flask from his breast pocket, because of course he did, and took a swig. “Blimey and begorrah! Let me at him! I’ll fong ya in the arse, laddie-buck!” Finnegan Feeney dropped his flask and his pipe and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and assumed a fighting stance. “Let’s get this donnybrook started, sunny Jim!”
The Crimson Hound would have rubbed his eyes in exasperated annoyance if he could, but he couldn’t reach them through his goggles. Instead, he broke the fourth wall and addressed me directly. “Really, Piper? This is the best you could come up with, or is Chris Claremont secretly writing this?”
“Don’t break the fourth wall,” I said to the Crimson Hound. “It’s unprofessional.”
“Whatever,” said the Hound. “Next time you talk to Bruno, remind him how much he underutilizes me.”
“Um…ok,” I said
“Now,” said the Crimson Hound, “Let’s get this shit started.”
Scenario: The Easter Bunny has gathered together some other holiday mascots to participate in a ritual to re-summon Savirax the Unclean and bargain for Santa’s life, hoping to exact their revenge upon the Crimson Hound for killing one of their own. He is using a group of 10 willing cultists as sacrifices to fuel the ritual.
Special Rules: One by one, the cultists are pulled into the dimension of Savirax the Unclean to meet their grisly doom. At the beginning of each round, a cultist disappears. When there are no more cultists, Savirax the Unclean appears and…well, we’ll see! That means the Crimson Hound has only 10 rounds to defeat the Easter Bunny before time runs out!
Victory Conditions: The Easter Bunny and his minions must defeat the Crimson Hound and summon Savirax the Unclean. The Crimson Hound must defeat the Easter Bunny and his minions and stop the ritual!
The Red Thirst: Although he’s a “good guy”, the Crimson Hound is, at heart, a bloodsucking vampire. If he defeats a model in melee combat, the Hound may take his next action to feed on the blood of his opponent. This allows him to roll 4D, and for every 2 goals scored, he heals one box of Body box damage as he sucks the poor soul dry. It also has the additional effect of causing fear to any enemy model within 6″, as they look on in horror at the Hound’s monstrous predations. On the following turn, any affected model must win an opposed Psyche roll or be unable to attack the Crimson Hound for one turn. (Note: this is a variation on both the Parasite and Healing minor powers.) This has no effect on the Great Pumpkin, who is a sentient plant and has no blood. If the Crimson Hound feeds on Finnegan Feeney, he gets drunk immediately after his healing roll and is -1D to all rolls for the rest of the game.
Here are my Super Mission Force builds for the characters in this scenario:
The Crimson Hound (Brawler) Major: Scrapper Minor: Melee Specialist, Resistance (Special: Vampire, Cause Fear); Move 7, Body 7, Psyche 6
The Easter Bunny (Brawler) Major: Scrapper, Minor: Melee Specialist, Super-Agility; Move 9, Body 7, Psyche 6
The Great Pumpkin (Wild Card) Minor: Entangle, Massive, Melee Specialist, Reach; Move 8, Body 8, Psyche 6
Turn 1: One of the cultists on the pentagram’s points vanishes (cue Wilhelm scream), drawn into another dimension to be devoured. The Crimson Hound loses initiative. Finnegan Feeney scuffs the ground a few times and charges like a bull with a full head of steam into combat with the Crimson Hound. He inflicts no damage, however, as the Crimson Hound easily swats aside his pathetic punches and smacks him across his big, red nose, dealing 2 Body to the blithering drunkard, stopping him in his tracks and dropping him to 3 Body. The Easter Bunny wastes no time, hopping into combat and winding up. After the dice are tallied, the Easter Bunny wallops the Crimson Hound for 2 Body, dropping him to 5. The Great Pumpkin shuffles forward and ropy vines snake towards the Crimson Hound, trying to hold him fast. The Crimson Hound sees the vines and realizes what The Great Pumpkin is up to. He’s able to avoid the entanglement–for now.
In response, the Crimson Hound attacks Finnegan Feeney, scoring a net 5 Body in damage. Not even Finnegan Feeney’s vaunted Luck o’ the Irish (his Fortune power) is enough to help him. So vicious is the Crimson Hound’s assault, one might think the Crimson Hound (or perhaps the guy writing this) was so offended by the cartoonish stereotype of the Irish that it had to go, immediately. Five Body is 2 more than Finnegan Feeney has, so he is KO’ed!
Turn 2: Another henchman vanishes to the dark ritual (cue Wilhelm scream).
The Crimson Hound gains initiative and turns his attention to the Easter Bunny. His net 3 goals drop the Easter Bunny from 7 Body to 4, and knocks his bunny head askew. The Easter Bunny is a seasoned fighter, though; an even match for the Crimson Hound. He adjusts his bunny head with one hand and uppercuts the Crimson Hound with the other, scoring 2 Body in damage. The Great Pumpkin tries to entangle the Crimson Hound again, and this time he succeeds. The Crimson Hound is now at 3 Body and held firmly in the strong viney grip of the Great Pumpkin! Things aren’t looking good!
Turn 3: Another henchman is dragged to his otherworldly doom (cue Wilhelm scream). The Crimson Hound keeps initiative, and realizes he’s in a tough spot, so he tries to escape the pumpkin vines. Sadly, he fails! He can only helplessly struggle as the Easter Bunny punches him in the breadbasket for 2 more Body, dropping him to 1. But it’s the Great Pumpkin who administers the coup de grace: a vine bearing the rusty scythe shoots out and slashes the Crimson Hound for an additional 4 Body. That’s way more than the Crimson Hound has, and he fails his KO check. The Crimson Hound falls!
The Great Pumpkin shambled over to the Easter Bunny, who stood gloating over the unconscious body of the Crimson Hound. He raised his rusty scythe to finish the job, while the screaming of the cultists continued unabated, as they were taken to their doom one by one.
“No, wait,” said the Easter Bunny. “I have other plans for him.”
The Great Pumpkin lowered the scythe. “But I thought the whole point was to kill him.”
“And we will. By sacrificing him Savirax the Unclean!” The Easter Bunny began to laugh maniacally. Somewhere nearby, another cultist screamed and vanished.
“Right,” said the Great Pumpkin. “Well, you can take it from here, then. If we’re not killing him, I’ve got my wife and three kids to get back to. It’s Christmas.” And with that the Great Pumpkin slithered off, vines trailing behind him like a wedding dress train.
In a few moments, the final cultist was sacrificed. The Crimson Hound began to stir. With a loud, interdimensional pop, Savirax the Unclean appeared in the pentagram’s center. “Who dares summon me?”
“I do, O Great Savirax the Unclean,” said the Easter Bunny.
“Why is some fuckhead in a bunny suit summoning me on Christmas Eve?” asked Savirax the Unclean.
“I wish to bargain with thee, O Great One, for the life of Santa Claus.”
“Santa Claus?” asked Savirax the Unclean. “I ate that guy like…two years ago didn’t I? He’s dead. Not merely dead–he’s really most sincerely dead. You’re too late. Trust me. Hey! Is that the Crimson Hound?”
The Easter Bunny ignored Savirax the Unclean’s question. “But surely you have the power to bring Santa back, Great Savirax the Unclean?!”
“Sure. But why would I do that?” asked Savirax the Unclean. “He was an asshole. Hey, it IS the Crimson Hound! I thought I recognized you, you old rascal! How have you been?”
“Been better,” said the Crimson Hound, holding his guts together. “Yourself?”
The Easter Bunny was getting frustrated. “We conducted the ritual of summoning to offer you the Crimson Hound as a sacrifice. and beseech you to resurrect Santa Claus, O Great Savirax the Unclean!”
Savirax the Unclean appeared to consider the Easter Bunny’s offer. “Offer rejected. I think I’ll just devour you instead. You piss me off..” A pseudopod snaked its way towards the Easter Bunny and plucked him into the air, drawing him towards the gaping, foul maw of Savirax the Unclean.
“But why?” screamed the Easter Bunny. “What have I done to displease you?
“Bob should have read his fucking email,” said Savirax the Unclean. “I prefer the purple robes.” The Easter Bunny let out a final scream as he was swallowed whole.
The Crimson Hound rose unsteadily to his feet. “So, what now? You gonna destroy the world?”
“Nah,” said Savirax the Unclean. “It’s Christmas, you know.? I’d love to catch up; but I’ve got a mug of cocoa and some Johnny Mathis waiting for me back home.”
“Yeah, some other time,” said the Crimson Hound. “Merry Christmas, Savirax the Unclean.”
“Merry Christmas, Crimson Hound. I’m sure we’ll see each other again…maybe next year.” And with a pop, Savirax the Unclean disappeared.
The Crimson Hound killed Santa Claus two years ago, and since then, the residents of Glumengrad had continued to celebrate Christmas as if nothing happened. Most of them didn’t believe in Santa Claus anyway, so no one really missed him when he was gone for good. But such a fat, jolly vacuum cannot remain empty long. Someone would try to step into the black, buckled boots of the now deceased St. Nick, and the Crimson Hound made it his business to keep tabs on the main players in town.
Now, it seemed one had made his move: the Gingerbread Man.
The Crimson Hound watched from his perch atop a conveniently-placed gargoyle as the Gingerbread Man directed his henchmen to load up the postal truck with stolen presents. The Crimson Hound wondered what it would be like to receive a present, but no one had ever given the Crimson Hound a gift before. He thought it might be nice to receive new, custom grips for his pistols or a form-fitted Kevlar breastplate, or even a bag of blood he didn’t have to drain from some evildoer. His eyes narrowed behind crimson lenses when he thought about all the disappointed citizens of Glumengrad who would wake up on Christmas morning to nothing under the tree, because of the greed of the Gingerbread Man.
That would not do. The Crimson Hound leaped down from his gargoyle perch, landing atop a stack of extra-large, brightly wrapped gifts. He had no way of knowing what was in the boxes before he jumped, or whether they would support the weight of a muscular man in an armored suit who was dropping from three stories above. They didn’t, but they did break his fall. Loudly.
“Ah, shit,” said the Crimson Hound, emerging from beneath a stack of crushed presents and torn wrapping paper.
“It’s the Crimson Hound!” screamed the Gingerbread Man , in a high, piping voice reminiscent of a cartoon mouse. The Crimson Hound winced. That voice was tough to take. He looked upon the Gingerbread Man’s henchmen with newfound sympathy, until he noticed some of them looked familiar.
“Some of you look familiar,” said the Crimson Hound.
“We used to work for Santa,” one of them said. “We’re the ones left that you didn’t eat, you bloodsucking freak.”
You might think the Crimson Hound would not be hurt by the words of a common thug. But the Crimson Hound has feelings, too. He frowned. “I didn’t actually eat anyone. Just tore open their necks and drank their blood.”
“Never mind that!” said the Gingerbread Man, causing the Crimson Hound to wince anew. “I’m ready for you! Now you will taste the true power of my Candy Cane Lance!”
“Looks like someone’s been tasting it already,” said the Crimson Hound.
“You have to lick it to make it sharp!” said the Gingerbread Man. He gave it a demonstrative lick. “See?”
The Crimson Hound shook his head at how ridiculous his life seemed to become when his creator neglected to produce new Chronicles of the Crimson Hound content on his YouTube channel. “So that’s it’s power? It’s sharp? Ooooooooo. I’m gonna shove that candy cane up your ass, dude.”
“The joke’s on you, Crimson Hound!” giggled the Gingerbread Man. “I’m a sentient cookie! I don’t have an anus!”
“Not yet,” said the Crimson Hound. He smiled.
The Gingerbread Man’s mouth formed a prefect, icing O of surprised horror. “Get him!”
The Crimson Hound leaped upon the henchmen, moving through them like a red wave of death. He struck out left and right. Bones crunched. Teeth shattered. Blood sprayed. In a moment he was the only one left standing.
Game note: This was the single fastest round of Super Mission Force I’ve ever played. The Crimson Hound won initiative and charged the henchmen group, inflicting 4 wounds, dropping 4 henchmen. The remaining henchman responded, but the Crimson Hound’s Reflection power allowed him to do 2 more damage to his attacker, effectively wiping out the entire group in 1 round. Damn.
The Crimson Hound looked around at the crumpled bodies of the Gingerbread Man’s henchmen. “Well, that was surprisingly quick.”
The Gingerbread Man dropped his Candy Cane Lance and turned to flee. “Run, run as fast as you can! You can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Ma–URK!”
The Crimson Hound proved that he could, in fact, catch the Gingerbread Man; and he did, gripping the Gingerbread Man by his throat, or at least where his throat would be if he had a neck. “You were saying?” The Hound bared his fangs. “Time to see what all the fuss is about, Cookie-Puss.”
“WAIT!” choked the Gingerbread Man.
“Nope” said the Hound, opening his mouth.
“WAIT!” begged the Gingerbread Man.
The Hound stopped. “Dude, I already said no.”
“But if you eat me, you’ll never know about the Master Plan!”
The Crimson Hound sighed. He really wanted to eat the Gingerbread Man, because he was hungry and because the Gingerbread Man smelled delicious; but mostly because the Gingerbread Man was really fucking annoying. “OK, I’ll bite,” the Hound said, smiling at his own pun. “What Master Plan?”
November draws to a close, and with it, my first Dwarvember painting challenge. It was a modest field of participants this year, but some really great submissions, so I certainly can’t complain. For my own efforts, I fell a bit short (Ha! See what I did there?). I planned on painting 3 dwarfs, but only managed 2. Considering they’re the only 2 miniatures I painted all month, I’ll take it as a win.
First, some old-school lead, courtesy of Ral Partha and Bob Olley, circa 1990. This dwarf has some character! Outside of Tolkien, you just don’t see too many dwarfs armed with broadswords; it’s usually hammers or axes or (God forbid) double-bladed axes. Know what I think of ridiculous double-bladed axes?
This look says it all.
Next, a Reaper miniature sculpted by Werner Klocke: Hagar, Dwarven Hero (77482). This one is Bones plastic. He’s also about twice the size of the older Ral Partha sculpt above.
I usually don’t have a hard time with eyes, but painting the eyes on this miniature was pretty challenging. Maybe it’s the shape of the face itself. I just couldn’t get it to look right, so after about six tries, I just said the hell with it. The helmet provides enough overhang that his sockets would be shadowed, anyway.
But what of the others who picked up brush and paint (and in Dave’s case, sculpting medium!) and joined me in this challenge? You remember them, don’t you? What have they done?
Snapfit, from Da Green Horde; did Heckarr and Jeckarr, two “dwarfs” from the Orcquest game; something I’ve never personally heard of, but you can’t argue with his results!
Mike, a.k.a. Sasquatch, from the @sasquatchminis Instagram account; painted two versions of GW’s iconic White Dwarf himself, one is the original sculpt from the late 70’s, early 80’s; the other is the 30th anniversary edition! (I had that miniature once, but I sold it. Dumb!)
Dave Stone, from Wargames Terrain Workshop; not only painted a dwarf, he sculpted it first, in true Dave fashion…and it’s none other than ME!!!! Well, not really me, but a great likeness of my avatar, the red-bearded dwarf piper. (In real life, I look nothing like my avatar.) Dave even got the highland bagpipes right, which (believe me) doesn’t always happen among sculptors in our hobby.
Be sure to visit these sites and check out the work of these folks yourself. You won’t be disappointed. I will post the remaining submissions once I get word of them!
Well, lads, it’s up to us it seems. Although reinforcements are welcome, we can’t rely upon them. Let’s do our best! (Says the guy who had a dismal Orctober…)
Lest anyone wonder if I painted that unit of Black Tree Dwarf Warriors, I did. I just painted them way back in February, 2018, so they don’t count for Dwarvember. Nothing quite so ambitious planned this year, I’m afraid…but I hope to have three Dwarfs done by month’s end.