Evening faithful readers,
Here is the post I was teasing about on my FaceBook page a bit ago. The process of scanning and doing the paint-over of this piece is finally to a point where I am thinking it can be shared.
This is a series of the main steps in the piece that is another Warhammer 40,000: Eternal Crusade fan art. I had done an outline sketch of this a long time ago and never finished it. Now, I am done with it, for now.
Above is the grayscale image of my pencil shading that was scanned into photoshop. Then I used the multiply layer mode and layed done some base colors. The third image above is the final version with final shadows and highlighting added.
Below are the high-res shots. Hope you enjoy this Chaos Space Marine Breastplate with Nurgle's Touch! A little rot never hurt nobody, right?!
Bonus Background Story
The Putrifier's Coverings
Lan Nukio stood waiting for a sign, helm swaying in anticipation that the enemy could surprise him from any direction, at any time. He had been the last one to remain alive after clearing the last hold of heretics. Their presence revolting and physically ailing to him, such was the level of their vileness.
A loud clang came from behind and his senses were alight. No less than 10 figures festooned with horns, cracked bells, and random growths shambled into view. His vision suddenly blurred and his joints stiffened. He vomitted within his helm, but, for his sake, the filtering mechanism within kept him from gagging on it. That said, he remained affected. Several swarms of bloat-flies swirled into the space and around him. They landed on him and began burowing into his armor's joints and weak points. He stumbled on several cables running along the floor and fell.
Now on his knees, Nukio strained to move. His hand itched as it tried to reach for a krak grenade on his belt. No luck there. It seemed his body was in the grips of paralyzing, arthritic pain. He relented, closed his eyes for a moment, and requested strength from the Emperor.
Just then, he opened his eyes and saw another figure had entered the room from behind, blotting most of the light.
The other figues took position around him. Their weapons pointed at Nukio, but more as a formality, for certainly they did not think he was a threat to them.
As the figure came closer, Nukio's breathing became ragged, and filled with phlegm. He spat it several times - tasting blood and mucus.
Visions of rotting flesh, foetid giant insects, and a gaping maw atop a smiling putrid belly danced through his mind.
The figure leaned close to Nukio, as if to sniff him. He tapped three times in a specific pattern on his torso's armor.
Nukio saw clearly for a moment.
To say the breastplate of this traitor marine was disgusting and vile was an understatement. It was a nauseating set of colors, with wet and open wounds, oozing with fluids.The structure was not recognizeable as previous Astartes wargear. Now, it was more a product of the full onset of the ruinous powers and augmented by the favorings of Nurgle. Black, we boils seemed to writhe with life. In one, Nukio could have sworn he saw an eye jittering about. The closer it was and the longer he stared at it, he felt it's power building over him. He felt his will giving way. His health was fading. His sanity escaping. His back arched and he felt the breaking of bones as his body fell into a crippling spasm. A bang rebounded in his helm as it bounced off the plasteel flooring. His vision faded.
The last memory of Nukio's life was that he had had heard the figure utter these words in a spittle filled, rattling, low voice, "Rejoice, brother, as you have fallen in the name of disease. Grandfather Nurgle's warmth welcomes you. Savor these moments for they are the purest of what true living can give. Remember this is the day you met Nurgle's Putrifier - for I am he - and these are my annointed coverings, built to spread the joy of Nurgle's Touch. Good bye, brother. I envy you."
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