[Loremaster's Armoury] Waystalker & Huntsman Hat Recolours… and more

It really depends on the shield. The most difficult part is when I am making a new one, since I have to clean all the normal and combined maps to remove any unwanted aspects (like the 3D features most of Empire shields have, to make them flat and ready for new patterns).
Then it’s a matter of preserving as much of the original “wear and tear” texture as possible to make it feel authentic and in line with the originals.

Once all of this is done, then it’s just a matter of making a new heraldry pattern in AI, adding some additional scratches, mud-marks, rust etc.

All in all I’d say 2-3 days if I am making skin for a new type of shield. In case of shields I already have prepared… well it depends on the complexity of the heraldry pattern. Usually a day or two.


Here is the promised shield that came in the latest shipment.
The inventory is growing quite a bit, therefore I extended the display to the table on the other side of the room. Please, take a look and do not forget to take in the… scenery.


bro. brother. sibling. That looks so good!


Fatshark, hire this man.


Hmm… I entirely forgot I had these… disturbing sight indeed. Quite rare though.


By the Lady of Battle, this I like. We got blazing sun premium hat and recolor of FK’s armour, how about a shield to match them Fatshark? :stuck_out_tongue:


A shipment of true craftsmanship at last. Hold strong against the filth of Chaos and their feeble-minded minions. Fight for Asuryan, for the Phoenix King!


Allow me to tell you a story.

In the two hundred and fifty fifth year of the reign of Finubar the Seafarer, a sizeable Asur host led by prince Imrik of Caledor was sent to Couronne - a Bretonnian city - which was at the time under attack by a warhead of Beastmen. I myself was one of the mages accompanying the prince. Little did the Bretonnians know that we were not there to protect their city, rather what was burried deep beneath it: Waystones.

Nevertheless, we joined forces against the rampaging animals. I shall never forget how amusing it was to dispell the laugable attempts at magic of their shamans. Withough going too much into detail, suffice to say the day was won and the waystones at peace.

The local nobles decided to host a grand feast to celebrate the victory. It was prince Imrik himself who - as a crude attempt at humour I am sure - decided that I will represent him at the feast. The prince really enjoys vexing me. To do you all a favour, I will avoid describing the events of that rather dull evening and just say that I managed to secure diplomatic connections and favours with several of the nobles.

Finally it may bear some fruit.


Any more Eanith’s Chronicles on the way? :stuck_out_tongue:

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A beast worthy of a crest indeed.


Mathlann protects.


These Bastonnians remind me of someone…


Indeed, peace can be a double edged sword.


A new one… hmp…


A Strange Coincidence

The distant clatter of boots resonnated purposefully throughout the stone hallway; though muffeled by the heavy door leading to the Armoury, the sound was still clearly audiable to the keen elven ears.

It was late at night, and the pure white light of Sariour filled the room from the easten open window, pushing against the ominous greenish glow of the false moon - Morrslieb as the nations of men named it - which was creeping into the armoury from the north. A strange battle of lights, poetically summarizing the eternal struggle between the forces of Order and Chaos.

The loremaster stood in front of a sturdy wooden lectern that was pushed against the northern wall just in-between two stone windows, through which the gloomy green light crept. Above the lectern hung a large portrait of High Loremaster Teclis set in an ostentatious golden frame. The highly polished surface of the golden frame reflected the flickering light of a candle placed on a stand beneath, providing the much needed reading light.

The thumping sounds of heavy boots were getting closer.

“Strange,” the loremaster though to himself “I would bet dwarf’s beard I have read this very same passage before.”
Making a quick scribbly note he carefully turned on to the next page of the great tome, gently tracing the everchanging lines of text with his slender index finger.

“It would appear the overall complexity of the incantation is not at all as complex as Edianith described it to be” said the elf to himself with a jeer. This time, instead of grabbing his trusty notebook, he produced a small sapphire gem from the pouch that hung at his belt. Drawing on the Aethyr, the loremaster began weaving a complex pattern of Qhaish energies, inlaying them carefully into the gem.

The noises were getting louder and lounder, even faster now. Judging from the intenstity of the muffeled echoes, they were just around the corner that led to the short corridor outside the armoury.

Putting the sapphire back into his pouch, the loremaster carefully closed the tome. With an ellegant and methodical motion of his right hand he then traced a warding pattern over the book’s lid. The air around the tome began to shift and bend and then, in a few heartbeats, it wanished.

Thump. Thump. Thump…

Adjusting his robes, he folded his hand behind his back and gracefully paced to the center of the room, turning towards the entrace just as the door flew open and five imperial guardsmen rushed in swords drawn.
The elf watched with a hidden amusement as they hesitantly took their positions on both sides of the door, making sure they kept their distance from the mage. There was an apparent fear and uncertainty in their eyes.

Unmoving, the loremaster stood like a statue in the center of the armoury, waiting for their next move.

Then another tall figure emerged from the doorway, slowly and methodicaly walking forwards until he reached the elf.
The man was clad in a long, heavy leather coat with a great number of bandoliers and belts strapped around his waist and shoulders. The amount of weaponry this man was carrying was certainly impressive: a rapier, a dagger, set of stange potions, several scrolls and of course a great number of flintlock pistols. He stopped counting at six.
A tall, wide-rimmed hat cast a deep shadow onto his face. The stranger’s feature were sharp and intelligent. Bright eyes, strong nose and a dark short-cut beard that was crowned by a long, curly moustage.

The loremaster was most intrigued now, maybe even a little excited, though every possible emotion that flashed through his mind was perfectly hidden behind the well disciplined elven stone-cold features. This was certainly getting interesting.

With a smirk, the tall stanger produced a crumpled scroll from under his heavy coat. It bore the unmistakeable seal of the order. Templars of Sigmar.

“You will be coming with us” said the Witch Hunter with a satisfied sneer.


You’re not gonna leave that unfinished, now are you?


what if I am :joy:



Echoes of the Past

The rising summer sun shone brightly over the peaks of Anuulii mountains and crisp mountain breeze washed gently over Idhren’s concentrated features. He sat cross-legged on a smooth boulder overlooking a small lush clearing that was carved into the mountainside, split into two halves by a narrow stream. The harsh yet beautiful mountainous land of Caledor offered a great number of such unforgettable vistas, waiting for those with resolute and adventurous minds to discover them.
Out of all the places known to him, the loremaster favoured this particular one for his medidations. Such pilgrimages were not without peril though, for with every passing century, more and more of local wild fauna dared to venture further away from their native territories deep within the mountains, creeping ever closer to urban areas.

A sudden sharp crack of a breaking twig woke Idhren from his contemplation. Surely no beast could get so close without him knowing beforehand. He always took a great care in placing protective wards all around the clearing. Slowly opening his eyes, he noticed a figure standing next to a tree several paces away from where he sat. Though he was partially blinded by the rising sun shining from the east he was facing, the mage could distinguish the gentle slender features and flow of fair golden hair running down the woman’s back, ending just below her waist. She was facing away from him, looking at something in the distance.

The question remained. How could she get past the wards?

The loremaster stood up, stretching his stiff muscles as he cautiously began walking towards the female. “Who are you?” he asked the stranger.
No answer followed.
He approached even closer.
“My lady?” he tried again, this time gently touching her left shoulder.
The woman slowly turned around to face him. Idhren immediately recognized his sister. She was smiling.
Pushing against the sudden gush of shock, the loremaster regained his composure and hastily took a step back. “Linelle, what are you doing here?” he inquired.
Once again, he did not receive any response. His sister just stood there, watching him intently, her face void of any emotion aside from that smile.

Something is not right.

As if reading his thoughts, Linelle’s smile widened to the point where he could see a row of her brilliant white teeth. They were glittering like diamonds and thoroughly filed to sharp points.
Idhren watched, petrified, as the appearence of his bellowed sister began to change. Linelle’s skin grew even paler, contrasting against dark shades that appeared around her eyes. Beautiful long flocks of once golden hair were now dyed crimson red. Though her eyes remained the same, something changed within them. Where once was a spark of purity and compassion, now burned dark and primal lust for bloodshead.

“Witch-Hag!” spat the loremaster as he broke the last strand of shock that bound him motionless and drew his sword, concentrating on Aethyr energies to weave a quick spell. Within a blink of an eye, the witch elf spun around and kicked aside his blade. Only too late did the loremaster notice the blurred shape of a curved ebony dagger in the hag’s right hand that now arced towards him.

A sudden flash of energies elluminated the mountainside’s clearing as Dhar enchantments of the cursed Druchii blade colided with his magical wards. The release of raw energies propelled the loremaster backwards against the bounder he only a few moments ago sat upon in complete harmony.
Finding purchase on the rock above him, he pushed himself upwards from the ground. Looking back at his attacker, he noticed the hag was crowched down, staring directly at him. Like a wild cat ready to pounce at her defenceless prey.

With an animal-like hiss, the witch elf jumped forward, daggers aimed at his chest…

*- *- *-

The loremaster’s eyes snapped wide-open as he sat bolt upright. His heart was racing from the dream he just had, or was it an old memory? He was not sure at the moment.
The room he was in was quite dark, elluminated only by a pair of candles that were almost burned out. He sat in a deep leather armchair. To his left stood a small wooden table with several tomes and scrolls lying on top of it.
Yes, he remembered reading these before falling asleep. The elf sat up and looked around, massaging his temples with his index and middlefingers in the process.

As he began to stand up, the door leading to his room opened and a figure entered. It was the witch hunter.
“Good,” he said, took off his tall wide-rimmed hat and placed it on the table next to the scrolls. “We have a lot of work to do.”


This is so good.

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My sincerest of apologies for not talking to you - my loyal customers - sooner, but alas something most unexpected crossed my path and kept me quite busy. But Indeed, that is what you should always expect to happen in these truly unpredictable times.

There have been strange and ominous shifts in Aethyr as of late, and I am afraid there is yet more to come. Several days ago, out of nowhere, a strange old hag approched me. I think I have yet to see a more crooked and decrepit being in my long lifetime; as far as the race of men is concerned at least.
Nevertheless, there was a definite touch of Aethyr upon this woman, a fact that indeed caught my interest and persuaded me to allow her waste some of my precious time. She told me about this peculiar group of “heroes” - five of them if I remember correctly, and I always do - who apparently fight the Followers of Chaos at the border to the southwest of here. I have never heard of his band of vagabonds, but if there is any truth to this hag’s tale, it would appear they already managed to achieve several remarkable deeds.

Leaving out the uncecessary detail, suffice to say I received a requisition for a dozen of my shields, with swords and spears to go along with them. It seems there is an Asrai as well, interesting… I have something special for them in mind. With how things are going, I am sure they will make a good use of my stock. And they are going to need every last bit of it I am afraid.

Vaul’s blessings.


I have a special surprise for you all. Some time ago I was contacted by @kralo_ffad (You may know some of his mods), who asked me if I was interested in making a cosmetic mod using the heraldry patterns I made for Loremaster’s Armoury.

An offer I of course accepted immediately, as this was someting I always wanted to do but just did not have the knowledge and experience to make it a reality.

So, without further ado, I am indeed glad and honoured that I can present to you:
Vermintide 2 Loremaster’s Armoury Steam Workshop Mod.

Once again, huge thanks to Kraff for making all this possible.