Endika Fleshtearer

Andreas sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him. It was all open plains; grass the colour of scorched earth poking through thick snow but the land was flat. No hills, no trees, no cover. He knew he could only keep this pace for a little while and the wide openness of this place would make it all in vain. As if to emphasise that thought he heard a whooping cry from his pursuer who seemed to be enjoying the hunt. Andreas had been duped by the Norse traders; they’d reneged on their agreement and had taken him hostage. He’d known the perils of trading with the Norscans but they’d been true to their word in the past so their behaviour had come as a surprise. It soon became clear they planned on trading him as a slave. After being kept tied to a stake on a length of rope with four other for what must have been at least free days they were finally freed by a group of Norscans who marched them away from the village. With each passing step the landscape had grown more featureless and eventually their party had stopped when a large group of riders came into sight. Andreas had been terrified as the riders approached. One of the Norscans had identified the horsemen’s chieftain as Endika Fleshtearer and had seemed noticeably unsettled himself; another had mentioned a cannibal king. As they’d drawn near, Andreas had seen the body parts hanging on chains from the horses’ bridles and saddles like grisly trophies. Then he’d seen the Kurgan chieftain Endika. He was no more imposing than any other of his stock; his hair was fashioned into a mohawk the rest of his head shaved except for a ponytail tied at the back. He wore armour of gold and bone, his legs bare and noticeably mutated. In his right hand he carried a cruel looking flail. It had been the creature he rode that had unnerved Andreas the most though. It was long and bipedal, covered in purple scales. But, it was the mouths. The creature had too many mouths to be anything of this world and it had moved in graceful bounds towards the group of slaves. The leader of the Norscans had reluctantly gone forward to greet the chieftain and terror had sparked Andreas to life. He’d bolted, hearing angry shouts from the Norscans in his wake which were quickly drowned out by the whooping cry that had followed him since. Andreas cast a glance over his shoulder as he felt his energy dwindling. Endika was there, his daemonic mount bounding along matching Andreas’ pace. As if sensing that its quarry was tiring the beast sped up and Andreas turned to meet it. Its speed was unearthly, it was clear he’d been being toyed with this whole time. Endika leant out low from his mount and swung his flail into Andrea’s kneecaps as he hurtled past him. The blow shatter them and Andreas collapsed in a screaming heap, the pain unlike anything the merchant had ever known. He heard the beast return and the sound of Endika dropping down onto the snow covered ground. He circled round Andreas casting his flail aside and pulled a cruel curved knife from his belt as he loped closer to him. The Daemonic steed gave off a warble of delight as it anticipated what would come next, the sound like that of some giant bird but twisted and wrong sounding to the ears. Endika smiled at Andreas, his teeth were sharpened and blood-stained, his eyes alive with cruel intent. The he descended on his with the knife.

Endika Fleshtearer - The Cannibal King











The pictures aren't very good and sadly a lot of the colour detail has been drained by the camera but I promise I'll try and take some better pictures tomorrow if I get time to give you a better idea of him.
I'm mostly happy with him. I'm very pleased with the steed. I've not quite painted Endika himself as well as I'd have liked but it's the best I can do for now. Might come back and try and fix a bit with him especially if anyone can suggest some useful improvements.
Comments welcome and greatly appreciated as ever! :)