Lazy Orang & Family's Classic Customs - The Stiff Corpse

[Lazy Orang]

Originally Posted by Ronin

Bentley's cool - Rise from the Bog and Lure to the Grave are both kinds of powers that I really dig, so having them on one unit is cool. Is it intended that he can lure someone who's already adjacent?

My biggest problem with the design is probably the last line of Lure to the Grave - feels really easy to miss.

The Pukwudgies have a lot going on. I feel like I'd constantly be re-reading that card to remember how it all worked. Really cool mythology pull, though.

Thanks, chap! Yep, he is intended to be able lure people who are adjacent - though admittedly in that case it's less 'luring' and more 'catching them off guard for the defensive penalty'. Didn't want to overly encourage luring more prey before he's finished with whoever he's already ensnared. I've never had any issues remembering the last line of LtG and it's always felt pretty clear to me, but I admit that as the designer I kind of have the advantage there!
Yeah, the Pukwudgies likely do take a few rereads to get right. After a couple of games though it becomes pretty easy to remember how they work, though - it helps that most of the complexity's in the disappearance thing, the other two powers are pretty simple with one of them being a reuse from the Deepwyrm Drow (admittedly with a different number). It's worth the added complexity for their fun, 'Swiss-army knife' playstyle as well, at least to m taste.

And without further ado:


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"In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present."
~ Francis Bacon


Okay, we're down to our last three. Next up, Emelia Rhoderyk, a tormented ghost related to a certain heroic dragon rider (to find out how, see the bio). My original reason for designing this unit was because I saw the figure and thought it was beautiful. I ended up with one of the spirits I'm actually oddly happiest with.
Soul Weapon is, obviously, taken from the Death Knights, as I thought it would nicely represent her scythe. Spectral Phase is taken, word for word, from a custom called The Baron Otto von Griben by @justjohn , which is sadly no longer available on this site, though I fortunately was able to print a (tweaked) version before it went down. (Incidentally, on the off-chance @justjohn sees this or anyone has any of his customs saved, I would love to see his cards reposted and archived - he had some great stuff that I admired and pored over years ago when I was lurking and it's a crime that it's all just disappeared).
Moths To a Flame, though, is, in the end, obviously the main hook of the design. When designing this card, I knew that her lantern needed to be the thematic focal point, but it took me a while to figure out how. Lanterns and lights are commonly used to lure people in folklore, but I didn't want to do another generic luring/pulling ability - I already have Bentley and Annie, and it's likely they won't be the last figures in the Spirit faction with that sort of ability (a potential future
will-o'-the-wisp common hero springs to mind). As such, I did some research, and found that the lantern was also, unsurprisingly, used as a guiding symbol. I quickly devised a way I could represent it acting in both ways in one power, and thus, Moths To A Flame - by simultaneously luring opponents' figures and mobilising your own, Emelia does a good job of controlling a battlefield, but isn't too hard to take down. Forcing enemies to take leaving engagements can be quite deadly, though...
The last thing I'll add is just that I'm quite happy with the paint job I managed to give her.




Card by @mac122

Bio:

Spoiler Alert!

Bio - Emilia ran through the streets, her heart pounding, tears pouring down her face. Her village, everything she knew, was burning, in ruins. The barbarians ran wildly, slaughtering all they saw, the dark haired woman with the flame-hooved stallion directing the massacre. She had watched in horror as her son, Aled, a levy in the town guard, was trampled under foot by the horse’s incendiary hooves, and her daughter had disappeared utterly, was nowhere to be seen.
The old clock tower - it was her only salvation now. She’d told her young daughter to meet her there if there was ever an emergency. It was deserted, and nothing valuable was kept there; with luck the marauders would leave it be, if she remained quiet and didn’t give herself away... if Morwyn found her way there...
When she noticed a break in the fighting, she slipped into the shadows, and kept to them for the last few feet before silently opening the back door of the tower, entering, closing it behind her and climbing the stairs. As she made her way through the darkened building, quietly, hesitantly, she called out:
‘Morwyn? Morwyn?’
There was no reply. She searched the entire building - her daughter was nowhere to be found. She looked out of the window down to the streets below. The throng of bandits had thickened - there was no way anyone was making it to the clock tower now.
The crushing weight of grief was more than she could bear. Through eyes streaming with tears she looked towards the moon, ready to make a silent prayer - and then she saw it. A dragon, in the distance. She’d heard tales of dragons - they were ferocious, often capricious, but could be remarkably fair-minded and honourable at times. It was likely that if the dragon was aware of the attack, it would wreak a terrible vengeance on the murderers... and if not, the situation could hardly be made worse. But how to alert it?
She looked around the room, in a half mad haze, before finding a lantern and match. A light in the window might just do it - the clock tower was high enough to stand out, and there was never a light here under normal circumstances. It had been used before in ages past to alert the nearby military - why not now? She knew it would alert the raiders to her position, but she no longer cared. Her life, everything she knew or loved, had been taken from her already. Vengeance was all that was on her mind now. She lit the lantern, and placed it in the window. Within seconds, the dragon changed its course towards her, and she heard feet racing up the crooked stairs towards her. She closed her eyes and waited.
Hours later, her spirit walked among the fallen, searching, searching. There was no sign of her daughter. She believed the worst - thought she’d been taken as a slave. Unable to rest, she wanders abroad now, her grief turning slowly into a deep and bitter madness, torn forever between searching for Morwyn, returning to the spirit world to find Aled, until she nearly forgets them altogether in her searchings, so consumed by bitterness and rage. Even now, as her guiding light leads spirit and victim alike towards her, like moths to a flame, you can sometimes hear her call, searching still...
‘Morwyn? Morwyn?’

~Lazy Orang, making the usual acknowledgements to @Soundwarp SG-1 . Tomorrow, a card I can't really claim credit for...