From the red table #1: Goblin Diorama!

I am giddy with anticipation when writing this post, because after many months (well, two - but it feels like a lot more!) of preparation and getting settled into my new place, I have finally been able to sort out a very important feature of my new apartment.

Sure, I bought a new couch, which was the most expensive non-real estate purchase I have made in my life, got a new dining table that I had to carry up to the fifth floor because it could not fit in the elevator, but all of that pales in comparison to what I am about to show you, dear reader:

_{Behold my new hobby table and bask in its crimson glow!}

That's right, I got my own hobby room!

As an experienced painter of miniatures, having a dedicated room for the geeky by-products of my hobby had a dream of mine for a long time, and after teaching myself to use a standing desk at work to the extent where I stand up the entire work day, I decided that I wanted a standing desk as a centerpiece in my new hobby room as figurine painting is a hobby that is not good for your neck and back if you sit down while doing it. After reaching out to a friend of mine, who makes a living selling office furniture, I was introduced to this wonderful red, linoleum-covered table that he had sitting in the back of his storage and I fell instantly in love. After getting the table installed, I decked it out with various workshop modules from Hobbyzone and ordered a ton of accessories such as new brushes, a glue gun, an airbrush, containers, etc. and I was ready for my first project.

But what project?

I had the Warhammer 40k: Dark Imperium boxed set lying around that I had not gotten around to unpack yet, so getting back in the groove with space marine painting seemed like the natural thing to do, but it did not feel right. Not right now, at least. Then I hearkened back to when I moved from my old apartment; when I had to take my old bits collection down from its exceedingly dusty shelves for consolidation and repackaging and remembered finding something. Something goblinoid and metallic:

_{GW Goblin metal miniatures from back when goblins where actually called that}

Purchased with my short-lived Mordheim orc warband in mind, I really liked the goofy style of the old goblin designs and I decided that these old minis were too fun to go to waste and an idea for a goblin diorama began forming in my head. An idea that told the story about one megalomaniacal goblin and his bumbling friends hiding in a swamp.

First order of business was to strip the figurines of their old paint jobs, which luckily is no problem with the old metal minis, as they can basically withstand and abrasive or acid you throw at them, but then came the more tedious task of gathering the materials needed for making my idea come to life. To quickly get off the runway with my new project, I decided to keep it small, about the size of a GW flyer base and inspired by some plastic mushrooms I discovered among some old night goblin regiment bits, I decided the scene should be set in a marshy landscape with lots of mushrooms.
Using two pieces of wood chips I found and dried, I built a rock formation centerpiece and started building the diorama up around it:

_{Starting with the rock formation, I built up two pools and added several smaller rock piles, a gnarly tree and a lot of mushrooms}

After adding flock to the base and applying the mandatory black base coat came the part I was the most excited about: The painting! For convenience, I painted the goblins and the diorama itself separately as the detailed painting needed for the miniatures would have been difficult had the goblins already been pinned to the diorama.

_{The two gentlemen from before, now with new spiffy paint jobs!}

After many days of painting rocks, goblins, ponds and mushrooms, adding tufts and grass and then some final assembly, I could finally enjoy the fruits of my work:

_{My first diorama dubbed Swamp Fugitives finally done!}

I am pretty pleased with the result, although the tree for some reason came out very shiny, which stands out in the otherwise very drab and matte scenery and pinning the goblins down so it looks like they are standing naturally on an already flogged surface turned out to be harder than expected. Well, here I am rambling on - let me introduce you to the gang!

Gritzt

Gritzt is the leader, not because he possesses any leader qualities to speak of (unless yelling, threatening and punching count as such), but because he has the weapon with the longest reach and possesses intellect to the degree where he does not mistake rocks for food.

_{Gritzt - impromptu leader of the gang}

As the leader, he has access to the best equipment, which includes a spear, shoes, gold jewelry and a nice Bad Moon shield, he personally stole from the night goblins, which is incidentally why he and his compatriots are currently hiding in a swamp

Blotz

Blotz is not a handsome goblin. In fact, he usually ties with rotten vegetable matter and open knee surgeries on lists over what people want to look at the least. What he does not have in looks, he does have in relative strength and general hatred towards most things in the world around him.

_{Blotz - not a friend of the ladies. Not a friend in general. Pictured with Gritzt's old shield}

These quality makes him a perfect second in command and inforcer for Gritzt. Not smart enough to outwit him or even realize that he is being taken advantage of and armed with a sword so pitifully short that he will never pose a physical threat should he have aspirations of succeeding Gritzt.

Drigg

Drigg is the brains of the group, which is not saying a lot, but means that he can string a bow and fire an arrow without either 1) giving up halfway and trying to eat both or 2) killing or maiming himself in the process.

_{Drigg - resident intellectual and ballistics expert}

Gritzt is (not so) secretly envious of Drigg's intellect and tactical sense, despite his tactical capabilities being mostly limited to waiting unseen until the enemy turns his back on you before trying to bash his head in. This means that Drigg besides his bow is relegated mostly to third level loot, which is why he is stuck in walking into a fetid swamp barefoot wearing stinking rags.

Runt

To some, clubbing is all about tequila shots and loud house music, but to Runt it is more than that. One could say that the clubbing of more or less everything that moves in his general vicinity is what defines his very being.

_{Runt - his small stature stands in direct proportion to his intellect}

Runt's simian intelligence does not leave neurons for superfluous things such as speech, so more than a member of the warband, he is viewed as the warband's animal sidekick, target for crude physical jokes and expendable cannon fodder. It would be circumventing the truth to say that Runt does not mind his place in the gang; it would be closer to the truth to say that he is far too dense to understand it.

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