Fighting a Forgotten War: Yn Edril Ismir.

[Prince Faolan]

So its real, The Old World has arrived. At 23 years old, i can finally have the Wood Elf army i've wanted ever since i first saw them, half my life ago as a 10 year old child.
Now i just have to do the hard part, and actually create it.

This Army Blog will serve a lot of purposes, firstly its a love letter to many others i've seen in my life. Such as "Only victory is Honourable" or Sedges Elves, seeing those armies come together across pages of posts gives a real concrete feeling to building an army, and its something that's inspired me.
Second, it serves as a place to get feedback on my painting, Painting is certainly not something i really enjoy doing, but i'm looking to push myself to breaking point with this army, it deserves no less.
Finally, its a place for me to put all my army lore in one place, instead of scattered across atleast a dozen files, notebooks and the deepest recesses of my head.
seriously. If anyone's reading this,
Expect a truly ungodly amount of lore, im gonna enjoy this.

With that brief introduction done, lets introduce our setting:

[godswearhats]

Welcome to the forests

~gwh

[Beithir Seun]

Looking forward to seeing this and following your progress! Sounds like it will be a real labour of love.

[Prince Faolan]

The first model bought for the project, and very much the main character for the Army, is Prince Faolan.
He'll act as the army's General, representing either a Glade Lord, or Glade Captain.

He's represented by Aenur from Mordheim, who is an absolutely beautiful model from long before my time, the dynamism and movement in what's effectively a single block of metal, is incredible.

Aenurs model features armour just barely visible, hiding between the folds of his cloak. A perfect motif for one of the primary themes I'm exploring with this army, the Wood elves Ulthuani origins, and how time twists what once was.

It's a quite literal methaphor for the Asrai, with the Prince's Ulthuan-Forged ithilmar armour, barely visible, but there under the green cloak of Athel Loren.

[Prince Faolan]

Damn there has to be a way of making photos bigger

[Prince Faolan]

[godswearhats]

Very stealthy ...

[Prince Faolan]

Not had a chance to paint yet, so let's go with getting out the longform lore for our noble Prince

Prince Faolan

As eldest child of Lord Eolithnir, Prince Faolan stands as the heir to the glade, though this duty is one he takes little pleasure in.
He spurns the politics and appearances of his position amongst his father's court. Choosing instead to hunt the enemies of Athel Loren, away from the social expectations of the looming throne.

As Prince and Heir to Yn Edril Ismir, Faolan carries the traditional title of Lord of Tor Isleinn.
The tradition has been carried down from the earliest days of the Kindred. Tor Isleinn itself is not a settlement or glade, but a broken Asur watchtower.
A pale white ruin, lying in the deep forest amongst blackened trees and ashen leaves.
For during the War of The Beard, a barbarous throng of dwarfs matched through the dead of winter to eradicate the outpost, savagely ripping apart both the slumbering tree spirits that dwelt between their Hold and the watchtower itself.

The Tree spirits of Tor Isleinn have never forgotten this murder, for they awoke to find their kin dead upon the groves, most blame the elves for such, and consider them enemies to near the same degree, but while dwarfs still infest the mountain holds, they will stay their murderous instinct to fight at the Elves side against their shared enemy.

Amongst the Asrai, only a fool or the incredibly brave would set foot in this cursed Grove, for doing so risks murder by vengeful dryads. Their thorned hearts seek only to repay the deaths tenfold, it has become
A place of fear and murder to those who dare speak its name.
.
While the dryads seek only murder, it is said the most ancient of the groves spirits weep tears of Amber for those murdered, and it is given freely to those who who would see it never redone. Indeed Faolans waywatchers mark themselves with deep amber gems upon their armour, but whether it is some somber gift from mourning spirits, or yet another rumour to surround the Prince is known only to his implacable Waywatcher guard, the Hawks of Amber.


Of course Tor Isleinn has no levies to muster, nor settlements to tax. Instead, the ruin serves to remind those who would soon rule the Kindred of their duty to protect Athel Loren. Against the Dwarfs most of all.

If nothing else, Faolan holds that lesson dear to his heart, Rarely seen at court, and known for his cold relationship to his father, Faolan is whispered to greatly enjoy the anonymity Tor isleinn grants him, for few are willing to risk the dryad watchers simply to summon him to his fathers feasts and balls, leaving him to hunt the enemies of Athel Loren amongst his Waywatcher court. indeed his prescense at court is considered a grave portent, for he heralds destruction, in his wake comes war.
Invasion too large to be defeated by all but the massed ranks of the Kindred.