I was persuaded, though, that it was necessary to include a couple in my armies but how to overcome the narrative issue? Conversion. By which I mean altering the models cosmetically and not trying to change the religious convictions of a sculpted piece of metal. Just slapping on different few parts and doing my own paints wasn't enough though. There needed to be story and character for each of the three I'd chosen. So here are the stories and model details for my three Menoth-ised Mercs:
First Merc
The first merc I chose was Eiryss, Angel of Retribution or eEiryss. The official version looks like this:
I decided to turn her into a more Daughter of the Flame style character, swapping the sword for a double edged blade and giving her a Errant's crossbow instead of her own. Finally I slapped on an armour plate with a Menofix on the shoulder:
Then I painted her in Menoth-y colours to compete the look:
Selene
Born in a North-western Llaelese Menite farming community, Selene lived a tranquil, pastoral life. Her father was the leader of the community and a fierce patriot, who imparted his love of the country into his children. 'Llael is the Garden of Menoth' was his favoured saying and in the beautiful and plentiful pastures it was hard to deny. Until the invasion. For the first few months Selene and her community were on the shifting frontline of the incoming red forces. The lines shifted back and forth as the Khadorans claimed the land and the Cygnarans pushed them back. Both forces consumed the land in their toils and left the land bleak and desolate. Most of the people of the township quickly learned to defend themselves but Selene's family never got the chance as they died in the early fighting leaving the young girl to fend for herself.
The warjacks, cavalry and soldiers turned Menoth's Garden into a charnel house of churned ash and bloody soil. The people of the community were bitter and saw both sides as foreign invaders, despoiling their land, Llael was being torn irrevocably in two and there seemed to be no hope. Some in the community found solace in the Resistance but to Selene the message of the invasion was clear. Llael had lost the protection of Menoth and the impiety of the ruling elite had lead directly to the downfall of the nation. When the Protectorate forces moved into the country she took this as a sign of the only path to restore her country and, slitting the throat of each Khadoran living in her family home, she fled South.
Selene joined the Daughters of the Flame and proved a capable assassin for the northern crusades in the early stages of the Protectorate's advance. Selene despises the ambition of Feora and sees in her the hubris of the Llaelese nobility. Preferring to fight alone she strikes where her god commands her and has shown an almost uncanny aptitude for disabling warcasters and warjacks who she sees as the epitome of heathen industrial evil.
Merc Two
Next up was the rogue alchemist Gorman DiWolf:
All I did for him was a simple head swap from a zealot which really contributed to making him match the rest of the army:
Tahïr the Red
The Idrian who would become known as Tahïr the Red was raised in one of the nomadic tribes that refused to convert to Menoth. Like many of the tribesmen living on the outskirts of the protectorate skirmishes with the faithful were common. It was during one of these conflicts that Tahïr narrowly avoided a direct hit from a zealot's bomb. While the the throw itself missed the explosion caught the nomad, engulfing him in flame. Instead of pain as the fire washed over him Tahïr saw only the perfection of flame and realised the glory of Menoth was contained in that fire. Diving out of the inferno horribly scarred, Tahïr leapt on the zealot who had opened his eyes and bludgeoned him to death with his own weapon. Taking up the zealot's bag of explosives he set about killing every member of his former family, gleefully screaming prayers to Menoth.
He returned with the Protectorate soldiers in chains but soon convinced them of his conversion and was put to work with the Vassals. His grasp of mechanika was limited and his contributions rudimentary. But the Scrutators observing him soon realised he was a virtuoso with Menoth's Fury and any and all applications of the combustible. To Tahïr flame, especially used to slay the unfaithful, was the ultimate dedication to the Creator and his almost instinctive ingenuity with explosives lead to many subtle refinements of numerous weapons.
Eventually Tahïr was given greater freedom to test his ideas and new creations and realised it was his destiny to create the ultimate explosive to be used against the enemies of the creator, and that this would be the ultimate dedication to Menoth. Impressed by his abilities and curious as to what he could potentially achieve Ark Razek sent Tahïr to join the Northern Crusade. In mere months he had earned a bloody reputation as the spectre Tahïr the Red and he continues his quest to find the perfect supplication to Menoth, a flame to match the one that brought him to the faith that will burn not just the flesh of the faithless but also consume their doubts and send their spirits to Urcean cleansed.
The Third Sell-Sword
Finally the Mentite must Rhupert Carvolo:
This was a slightly different one. I added an exemplar shoulder pad and shield to meet his Menofix quota. Then I made a shoddy attempt at a Vassal like mask for him:
And painted (apologies for the picture quality):
Jean Llewelyn
Born into a rich Llaelese merchant family Jean never really committed to anything in life. As a teenager he used his family's wealth and connections to come and go as he pleased, drinking with Kossites in Khador one month, and playing with a band in an Ordic bar the next. A callous drifter, Jean was quick to look after himself. As he matured he still maintained his reluctance towards responsibility and in an act of defiance against his Conservative father married a low born Cygnaran and started a family in Caspia. Playing music had always appealed to the youth more than the laborious work of maintaining the increasingly tense trade relations his father handled. Instead Jean played in taverns and faires around the city to keep his wife and daughters happy and fed.
Jean might have continued his life as a carefree vagabond indefinitely had it not been for the outbreak of war in the Iron Kingdoms. Always a proud and moral man Anton Llewelyn, Jean's father had taken a vocal stand against the invading Khadorans and had been publicly executed as an example to dissenters. This stuck Jean profoundly and drove home his irresponsibly. He decided this was a second chance. Briefly. Within a few months he was back playing songs and drinking and revelling more than ever before, berely leaving enough coins to feed his family after he payed gambling debts and bar tabs.
It was then the second great tragedy of Jean's life struck as war between Sul and Caspia broke out in full. Living within sight of Sul, Jean watched in horror as the Cygnarans began their assault and brought war to his doorstep. It seemed justified when the Sulese retaliated and he said so in his cups one night, leading to a brutal bar fight that left him unconscious in an alleyway. When he awoke the city was in flames around him. He rushed to return to his home, but when he arrived his home and his family had been burned to ash.
It was at that moment that a trio of the men from the bar the night before stumbled across the broken man. Enraged by the destruction around them and desperate to lash out they identified in Jean a Sulese sympathiser and attacked. Jean did not resist the attack and would surely have died of not for the intervention of a Paladin of the Order of the Wall. The armoured protector cut down the men in a moment and stood in judgement of the Llaelese musician. 'This is what your faithlessness and lack of duty or honor have wrought.' He said as he left and the words were truer than he could know and cut Jean deeply.
That was the moment of Jean's epiphany. He knew now that all the woes of his life were due to his own lack of direction and heart. Duty and Faith were more important that satisfying ones own base urges. Suffering had shown him the true path and Jean found, in the smouldering wreckage of his old home he found the metal front piece to his stove. In mimicry of the faithful Menites, held the metal in the flames of his former life until it was red hot and pressed it to his own face, fusing it to his flesh.
Since then Jean has returned to the one thing he knows, his music. But instead if playing for coin and drink he now plays arias and dirges of loss, patriotism and duty that stir the hearts of the soldiers of he faith, driving them to improve themselves. Jean cares less than nothing for his own well being and marches into the most hopeless situations without a moments hesitation, knowing duty is everything and seeking only to impart that to the men and women he serves with, that they can live the lesson he learnt from so much suffering.
Conclusion
I've really enjoyed altering these models and coming up with a story that matches them. I also think the models worked out ok and now I have three unique models that have a small element of a life created purely by me. And that is the beauty of the hobby.
-M
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