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So a bit over a week ago (Dec 1, in fact,) I decided I wanted to refresh my translucent minis (having fun with those, but that's another post,) get some freebies. When shopping through the newer Bones, I gasped, and came across Enrieth. You see, my wife and I have two bunnies, and her favorite is named Marilyn (for reasons which I hope should be obvious,) and I thought it would be a perfect gift to get Enrieth, paint her like Marilyn, and give it to her.
So I did! I'll post a picture of the inspiration bunny, too. Comments and suggestions welcome!
All Of Them VVitches: A Grave Mistake, feat. Headless Footman, Grave Minions, and Bones Punkin-Headed BugbearBy Rigel
There are those that say that the monks at St. Fiacre's should not plant their vegetables so close to the churchyard, that it is unseemly to fatten the marrows, squashes, and pumpkins so close to human bones filled with human marrow.
Of course, the same voices don't complain when those same vegetables come to market, ripe and full of rich flavor. But that is another tale, and...
...wait, what is this?
Who comes here at this hour?
A ruffian in disguise, bent on disturbing the bones in the cemetary?!
Nay, ruffians plural! Grave robbers, here to trouble those at long rest under stone!
And who is this?!
A sinister figure, clearly the ringleader.
"Go now, and find me that wizard's grave!"
A little foxfire around the eyes and mouth of a carved pumpkin will frighten the superstitious into thinking these grave-robbers are haints.
"Not one stone in ten is as it was in the old times; be sure where ye dig!"
"Wait, lads--what is that light?!"
"That's no sexton's lamp! Take to your heels, boys!"
It is, perhaps, only fair that those who mock Jack O'The Lantern get to see the original. A variant of Jack In the Green, easily summoned.
"YOU WHO TRESPASS ON THE ROW / YOUR FLESH WILL MAKE THE PUMPKINS GROW"
"'Tis every man for himself, lads, and devil take the hindmost!"
"TAKE THE HINDMOST? SO BE IT!"
"AH HA HA HA HAAAAA!"
As I said, the pumpkins from St. Fiacre's are always welcome at market. Something about the tender flesh and delicate taste, the kind you don't find elsewhere.
Rumors that a wealthy patron of the monastery was a sorcerer are just that--old wives' tales. And the story of a guardian appointed to keep his rest secure 'till doomsday? Obviously also fictitious.
Old wives will talk; this is well-known.
Here we go! It's time to finally give me time to this OSL thing. I saw this model and thought it'd be perfect to do as if this bugbear snuck up on a group of adventurers over their campfire.
I'll try to base this guy with a camp fire below him.
How's he look?
Here's him from the under-side: