Dog Men to the Deck

Quick post of a couple of Critical Mass Games' Protolene Khanates



Aargh, my primer went all "fuzzy" on me! No! I was able to salvage these as best as I could, but as you can see from these unflattering pics, especially on the backs of the legs, I ended up losing a lot of smoothness and detail. This pair o' figs came courtesy some extras Flounder tossed my way, so thanks again! I love them, they've got "sci-fi" written all over them, the carapace armor, the fancy rifles, being uplifted canines...they're just plain cool.

No horizon is obscured by the clouds. Settlements make nary a sound.
And there were black birds singing and fish floating on the sea.
While the bells of the buoys all rang in harmony.

Bury your treasure, burn your crops,
Black water rising and it ain't gonna stop.

The governor he been long gone, anchor dropped on his front lawn.
Build a keep and dig a moat, the return of the Swollen Goat.
Can you hear the fife and drums, barnacles barking at the sun.
Ain't no chance, so don't you try, now everybody got to die.

Bury your treasure, burn your crops,
Black water rising and it ain't gonna stop.

WE DO NOT DESIRE TRIBUTES.
WE DESIRE INFORMATION.
WE SEEK THE WORM DRINK WHO HAS LATELY BETRAYED HIS NATION

Albatross on your neck and a hooker on the shore,
Dog-men to the deck, there's a hooker on the

IN THE WAKE OF THE SWOLLEN GOAT

Bury your treasure, burn your crops,
Black water rising and it ain't gonna stop.

-Clutch: In the Wake of the Swollen Goat