Forgeworld wrote:






The strange, improbable and often quite insane creatures known as Squigs are half-fungoid, half-flesh beasts that breed and multiply wherever Orcs and Goblins gather. These foul and vicious monstrosities range in size from bestial hunting Squigs and the madcap Squig Hoppers that some Night Goblins ride to war; to the feared Mangler Squigs goaded into battle to devour the enemy wholesale. None of these beasts match the sheer size of the Colossal Squigs though, said to haunt the depths of the Grey Mountains and the Vaults.

These cyclopean, spherical monsters boast an insatiable appetite, and are in essence no more than an impossibly vast fleshy maw studded with row upon row of scimitar-bladed teeth. Near impossible to direct, let alone train, Night Goblin Shaman must resort to drugged meat (often live and unfortunate Goblin ‘volunteers’) or hugely potent spells to overcome the crude instincts of these behemoths.

Multi-part resin model, designed by Mark Bedford. Available to pre-order now for despatch from the 25th of May. Rules for the Colossal Squig can be found in Monstrous Arcanum. Scenic base and additional plastic components shown in painted version for illustration purposes only.

These cyclopean, spherical monsters

porkuslime wrote:Doesn't

These cyclopean, spherical monsters

mean that they only should have one eye?

RiTides wrote:Looks a little... unbalanced. And menacing. I personally prefer the more comical squig look.

Although, it could be the paintjob that's adding to this effect, too.

porkuslime wrote:Oh yeah, I loved that..

wonder what it tasted like...

reds8n wrote:

porkuslime wrote:Doesn't

These cyclopean, spherical monsters

mean that they only should have one eye?

I thought that too..

..http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/cyclopean

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/cyclopean

seems it can also simply refer to something as being really big too, Live and learn.

H.B.M.C. wrote:What the hell is coming out of its right leg?

Charax wrote:Still doesn't apply, Cyclopean describes something so large it could only have been built by the Greek Cyclops (which was also a giant).
Squigs aren't built, so Forgeworld are misusing every possible meaning of Cyclopean. Maybe they've been reading too much Abnett

MeanGreenStompa wrote:Poor old running Empire dude from the giant box...

Someone should start his diaries on this board.

from The Diaries of Keith Chegwyn, town notary of Bruntkendle (destroyed), previously Lodentowyn (razed) and Shadkline (consumed).

"Ulrican 15th in the year of our lord Sigmar 920.

Dear diary, twas only this morning, as I awoke from my terrible dream about the incident at Hruffs Moor with the gibbering thing with three heads, that I decided a nice walk up the mountain to the village of Heldenschnak for a refreshing brunch would cheer my mood a little.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at Heldenschnak to find it a destroyed ruin! Brunch now out of the question!
Imagine my further surprise when a big horrible thingie with only a giant head attached to two vast chickenlike legs came a bounding across the shattered village toward me, all rum and uncanny-like.

Us Chegwyns have always possessed a genuine flair for tactics and so I decided to extricate m'self from the general vicinity and, in wanting to warn anyone else who might be abouts, say rambling or mushroom harvesting, I decided to call out a warning-scream. I ensured it was highly pitched only that it might carry on the mountain air.

I ran for several minutes, the brutish beast bounding behind me, when I espied old Ms Shadenfinkle, the chapel organist, also making her way from the remains of the village. I decided in an instant to make my way to her to warn her of the beast.

You can imagine my surprise and disappointment when she not only failed to heed my call to run as fast as I, but proceeded to call me several highly unsporting names. For her sharp tongued insults, Sigmar saved me and, as I passed her, the beast paused to gobble her up whole! I cannot be held accountable for her lack of athletic prowess (something else we Chegwyns excel at, especially the sprint!) nor her ability to find a boat and row across the river Gurtrude.

Brunch ruined, I decided instead to head down into the valley, to Yord, and enjoy a slap-up supper of pies at Greygs tavern. Whilst there I also enjoyed several tankards of mead, generously paid for by a travelling nobleman. In return, he told me he's planning a delightful weekend excursion to some offshore island called 'lustier' or 'lostralia' or something, apparently it's just offshore from Estalia, and he wanted me to chronicle it.

Seemed a great opportunity to escape the horrors I've witnessed of late and enjoy some sun, wine and dusky maidens (he mentioned whole villages of exotic women with not a fellow to comfort them), so I signed on at once!"

d-usa wrote:Someboy start a tumblr of the poor guy running away from things.

deejaybainbridge wrote:Is it just me or is that a terrible painted example. The top of the head is shabby.

MeanGreenStompa wrote:Poor old running Empire dude from the giant box...

Someone should start his diaries on this board.

from The Diaries of Keith Chegwyn, town notary of Bruntkendle (destroyed), previously Lodentowyn (razed) and Shadkline (consumed).

"Ulrican 15th in the year of our lord Sigmar 920.

Dear diary, twas only this morning, as I awoke from my terrible dream about the incident at Hruffs Moor with the gibbering thing with three heads, that I decided a nice walk up the mountain to the village of Heldenschnak for a refreshing brunch would cheer my mood a little.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at Heldenschnak to find it a destroyed ruin! Brunch now out of the question!
Imagine my further surprise when a big horrible thingie with only a giant head attached to two vast chickenlike legs came a bounding across the shattered village toward me, all rum and uncanny-like.

Us Chegwyns have always possessed a genuine flair for tactics and so I decided to extricate m'self from the general vicinity and, in wanting to warn anyone else who might be abouts, say rambling or mushroom harvesting, I decided to call out a warning-scream. I ensured it was highly pitched only that it might carry on the mountain air.

I ran for several minutes, the brutish beast bounding behind me, when I espied old Ms Shadenfinkle, the chapel organist, also making her way from the remains of the village. I decided in an instant to make my way to her to warn her of the beast.

You can imagine my surprise and disappointment when she not only failed to heed my call to run as fast as I, but proceeded to call me several highly unsporting names. For her sharp tongued insults, Sigmar saved me and, as I passed her, the beast paused to gobble her up whole! I cannot be held accountable for her lack of athletic prowess (something else we Chegwyns excel at, especially the sprint!) nor her ability to find a boat and row across the river Gurtrude.

Brunch ruined, I decided instead to head down into the valley, to Yord, and enjoy a slap-up supper of pies at Greygs tavern. Whilst there I also enjoyed several tankards of mead, generously paid for by a travelling nobleman. In return, he told me he's planning a delightful weekend excursion to some offshore island called 'lustier' or 'lostralia' or something, apparently it's just offshore from Estalia, and he wanted me to chronicle it.

Seemed a great opportunity to escape the horrors I've witnessed of late and enjoy some sun, wine and dusky maidens (he mentioned whole villages of exotic women with not a fellow to comfort them), so I signed on at once!"

MeanGreenStompa wrote:Poor old running Empire dude from the giant box...

Someone should start his diaries on this board.

from The Diaries of Keith Chegwyn, town notary of Bruntkendle (destroyed), previously Lodentowyn (razed) and Shadkline (consumed).

"Ulrican 15th in the year of our lord Sigmar 920.

Dear diary, twas only this morning, as I awoke from my terrible dream about the incident at Hruffs Moor with the gibbering thing with three heads, that I decided a nice walk up the mountain to the village of Heldenschnak for a refreshing brunch would cheer my mood a little.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at Heldenschnak to find it a destroyed ruin! Brunch now out of the question!
Imagine my further surprise when a big horrible thingie with only a giant head attached to two vast chickenlike legs came a bounding across the shattered village toward me, all rum and uncanny-like.

Us Chegwyns have always possessed a genuine flair for tactics and so I decided to extricate m'self from the general vicinity and, in wanting to warn anyone else who might be abouts, say rambling or mushroom harvesting, I decided to call out a warning-scream. I ensured it was highly pitched only that it might carry on the mountain air.

I ran for several minutes, the brutish beast bounding behind me, when I espied old Ms Shadenfinkle, the chapel organist, also making her way from the remains of the village. I decided in an instant to make my way to her to warn her of the beast.

You can imagine my surprise and disappointment when she not only failed to heed my call to run as fast as I, but proceeded to call me several highly unsporting names. For her sharp tongued insults, Sigmar saved me and, as I passed her, the beast paused to gobble her up whole! I cannot be held accountable for her lack of athletic prowess (something else we Chegwyns excel at, especially the sprint!) nor her ability to find a boat and row across the river Gurtrude.

Brunch ruined, I decided instead to head down into the valley, to Yord, and enjoy a slap-up supper of pies at Greygs tavern. Whilst there I also enjoyed several tankards of mead, generously paid for by a travelling nobleman. In return, he told me he's planning a delightful weekend excursion to some offshore island called 'lustier' or 'lostralia' or something, apparently it's just offshore from Estalia, and he wanted me to chronicle it.

Seemed a great opportunity to escape the horrors I've witnessed of late and enjoy some sun, wine and dusky maidens (he mentioned whole villages of exotic women with not a fellow to comfort them), so I signed on at once!"