Truly, from little things, big things (or at least, more complicated little things) grow; this unassuming pile of pine bark chips and pebbles was to become the lofty crag from which my Scots Warlord surveys the field of battle.
I was looking to do something in the basing department which would allow my Warlord to stand out from the rest of the warband and convey something of the windswept terrain of the Highlands, so we're going with a rocky outcrop theme.
As you can see, this substructure is filled in with spackle (aka polyfilla, call it what you will), which is built up around where the figure will stand.
I drilled and pinned in the centre of the figure's 'footprint' for added security, and undercoated the assembly before texturing and drybrushing.
|"A' yer base ur belong tae us!"|
I then glued the fig into place on the pinned footprint and filled the gaps around his cast base with green stuff. The putty was roughly sculpted to mimic the 'strata' of the pine bark, and left to cure.
Once the putty had cured, it was time to paint it to match the surrounding outcrop, dullcote the model, and voila!
After all the tartan of the warband, it was nice to muck about with bits of stuff and actually build something, even on this modest scale. I'm pretty pleased with the the result, and think it complements the figure quite nicely.
So what's next? My partner in crime and Blogmeister-General, the indefatigable Millsy, has 6 points of excellent Anglo-Danes with some Levy to provide shooty support, while our good mate Nugget has completed a Viking AND a Strathclyde Welsh warband, so I'm probably going to need some lads with bows to encourage these potential threats to keep their distance. Alas, a visit to the gaming shop today turned up no Scots levy, so I may have to resort to buying online.
Or... I do have a pack of eight psychos for hire, the Gall-Gaedhil, aka the Sons of Death; these guys aren't shooty, but they tend to charge in and keep the enemy occupied... That's two more points right there. Well, we'll see what inspiration hits when next I plonk myself down at the workbench.