Frostgrave Necromancer Warband – Part 1

A new project always has something magical about it, and in the case of Frostgrave that's literally the way it is. As Dennis summarized nicely in his review, Frostgrave is a pretty simple setting - two rival wizards seek treasures in the frozen city Felstadt. That's it. After the flood of complex and lengthy fantasy games on the market, this is refreshingly simple. Due to the vast selection of fantasy models on the market, the creative side stands in an extreme contrast to this.

I started with a similarly uncomplicated approach this time. I just wanted something fantasy, but I wanted to draw a bit more from the well-known generics and not dive into the world of ultra-high fantasy from a well-known manufacturer. For this I play a different skirmish game. Another incentive was my experience with Dead Man's Hand, in which I painted models in the classic 28mm scale and where it was fun to paint a few generic minis, which can be used in several games.

After looking into the rulebook, I particularly liked the model of the necromancer. The necromancer is simply a classic wizard in the fantasy genre, and usually one of the baddies. But occasionally you also run into one who has more of a "positive" attitude, such as the Diablo III necromancer. I wanted to try and catch this feeling too.

I admit, the idea came to me after I noticed that in my collection of colors purple was missing. But a nice turquoise was at hand and I decided to test the scheme on the apprentice. All in all, I do not think that the evil look was invalidated, only changed. Especially the blond hair did not make him friendlier, but somehow gloomingly strange.

As you can see, I haven't completely decided on a concept yet, but that isn't even necessary in this case, because with the growing number of generic fantasy models I'll certainly testplay some other systems too. At the moment I'm planning to build the gang with a barbarian as a bodyguard and a few soldiers as thugs. And as usual, none of my projects is complete without a bit of fluff...

On the threshold to Felstad

Slowly and creaking, the door opened. It was still a good three days march to Felstad and for a secluded place like this the tavern was amazingly busy.

"Eeeey, you there - shut the door!" one of the drunken guests shouted over to Archibald, when he had stood in the door a moment too long to let the scenery sink in and a cold breeze blew in with him.

"Now do as you're told Archibald." a calm voice came from behind him and he entered, followed by the man behind him.

The voice was deep and well-sounding, but ever since he could remember, it's tone was attached to a certain age. A wisdom and maturity that only the years could bring. When the door closed behind them, the landlord finally spoke to them:

"Do you want to stay overnight? We only have one more room. It's not the best, but if you're going to Felstad you will not find a better one on the way there."

Archibald's older companion nodded in agreement.

"Who should I enter in the guestbook, sir?" Asked the landlord.

"My name is Balthasar Tenebris. And this is my apprentice, Archibald Helfmann." replied Archibald's master.

Archibald knew that it was not his Master's real name. In the guild of necromancers one always encountered the people with mistrust when they learned to which study of magic they had dedicated themselves. Taking on a new name has been a custom in the necromancy school for hundreds of years. Often, however, names were also given to recognize exemplary achievements, or to clarify the rank of a necromancer among the others. Tenebris. "The Darkness" Archibald recalled. His master had been there and he had returned. Without succumbing to the strong, corrupting temptation that came with the study of necromancy.

He too had received his name. But not because he had a past to protect from relatives left behind. Archibald grew up in an orphanage in Whitetown many years ago. When he was five, he met his master for the first time. Somehow he had felt immediately that something would change for him that day. Not least because Balthasar had caught him stealing his purse. He could still remember Balthasar's cold, piercing gaze when he'd come to the orphanage to ask for his money first, and after a moment's thoughtful consideration, for him as well. Archibald did not have a real name back then. At that time, he was always called "Youngster" as he was the youngest child in the orphanage. Well, he had to admit that he hadn't got a much better name with "Helfmann" - the helping man. But he had to admit he had never fared badly in his master's company, even though he was very strict with him. One day he would master the necromancy well enough to assume another name. At least one who did not clarify who had to do most of the unpopular work on his travels.

"Are you dreaming again, Archibald?" Balthasar tore him out of his thoughts with his quiet manner.
"Oh, no, Master." he replied a bit embarrassed.
"I was just wondering why we‘ll stay here for several days. Didn‘t we want to go to Felstad?"
"So you have noticed the entry about the number of our nights?" Balthasar asked, both surprised and satisfied.
Although Archibald nodded, he knew that the question was purely rhetorical, and he did not have to answer.
"Your eye for the environment has improved. Well, because where we go, we will always have to remain vigilant. And as we are only as human as the next man, we will need some swords at our disposal." Balthasar said.
"Mercenaries?" replied Archibald, unable to suppress his surprise this time.
"Master..." he started with some hesitation, because he did not want to upset his teacher.
"You must not try to please Archibald." Balthasar said with a knowing smile.

"Of course, I'm well versed in the ways of magic, but I'm not the only one in this world who serves the Arcane forces. We will not be the only ones who will walk in Felstad seeking knowledge and treasures to finance our studies. Some whom we will meet may be friendly, but what if not? It is better to make sure that we return home with an unharmed hide. Unless you are immortal? And you probably do not want to wear all the treasures on your own." he concluded with a laugh, and Archibald shuddered, as it sounded cheerful, but equally menacing.
He realized that this would be a dangerous journey and that the mercenaries might have to serve them more than once...

"Calm down, my boy. Tonight we rest. Tomorrow noon we'll see what high-quality bladesmen this nest has to offer." Balthasar said, seeing a flash of fear in his apprentice's eyes.

He would never admit it, but the boy had become dear to him over the years and practically his son. In no case would he allow anything to happen to him. Over the years, he too would learn the true art of necromancy and become a great necromancer. Not like those fools who left the mortal life behind them and never returned ...

Greetings from the Chaosbunker

Dino