“Hail Prince Ulhultualu! He who bears the fang of the serpent. He of the armor inviolate. The bearer of ambition! The warrior of a thousand fields!” - Finished elf lord designed by @houndhammer.bsky.social for Forsaken Gods by @forsakengods.bsky.social #3Dprint #fantasy #grimdark #minipainting

“Prince Muwantuallis makes his sport at at distance. Much to the chagrin of other elf kin.” - went weathered but wanted to go less so. Much more maintained and clean. For @forsakengods.bsky.social and designed by @houndhammer.bsky.social #forsakengods #fantasy #grimdark

Another armoured troll ready for duty!

A little armored troll. How did he come about such exquisite gear? Perhaps he worked as a mercenary for the local dwarf?

A dwarf patriarch. He has a gilded helmet, decked in bronze armor and carries a thunderstone axe. It’s made from a rock hit by lightning, and still posses some of the sparks. He might not be the oldest of the clans patriarchs, but there is no doubt that he has a commanding presence

From the troll-kin lore book. A terrifying(?) troll chieftain.

I got many short stories for my setting, Forsaken Gods on my Patreon, alongside lore books and wargame rules! The Picked Men is one such story. Read about the funerary procession of a dead elven prince in the lands of Tenehu.

A little excerpt from my lore book, here about trade in the cursed lands of Tenehu.

“After the elves forsook the old gods, they elevated the Cursing King as their sole deity. The only thing you can ask for is to have your judgment postponed, and to grant this wish, he requires blood.”

As great tremors shake the earth, the merchants of the caravan sacrifice a slave girl meant for the markets. They hope her blood will calm the fury of the cursing king and grant them safe passage for the rest of the journey.

Few know the songs of fire and metals as well as the dwarf-kin, making their artifacts prized commodities. Yet to engage them in trade can be a frustrating affair. To start the ordeal, one must place an offering of food at the appropriate place.

The dwarves are a devious folk who can only be trusted to go back on a promise. But one should never do the same towards them, as they bear a slight through many a generation, and their only true joy is to right that perceived wrong.

The serpents guard the bounds of the earth, and few are foolhardy enough to seek its limits. But what is more enticing than the dream of what might lie beyond? Yet, heed not the tales of magicians, and enter not the serpent’s pass, for you are merely baited into being bait.

Beware unless you stumble upon the magicians. They stalk the mountains close to where the great serpents dwell. Are they elf or man, who knows? Some say they search for the cursing head of the king of kings. Will they rid the land of this evil, or destroy all to start anew?

The village was razed during the siege; now only the tower ziggurat remains. With the village gone, the conquering army left, but the elven prince was not defeated. Though generations have passed, he still sorties out with his cannibal retinue on wild hunts that sustain them.

What used to be a rare sight in the sky has now become an all too familiar terror. Now, they even descend on villages, gorging on livestock and inhabitants alike. Only the bravest of heroes would dare challenge these drakes.

The days were still young when the elf-kin first arrived from unknown lands across the great sea. All who looked upon their gleaming towers atop their war mammoths trembled in fear.