The STL Trenches

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Once they were simple soldiers.
Then the Cult of the Leech blessed them.

Parasites were driven beneath their flesh, where they fed upon blood, rot, and the endless misery of the trenches. With every battle the leeches swelled larger, until mortal bodies could no longer contain them. Bone cracked, skin split, and man became vessel.

Now they crawl through the mud as bloated horrors of Eternal Hunger, forever feeding, forever growing.
Such is the blessing of the Cursed Leech.

This model was designed to be a proxy for a GRAIL HOUND, but you can you use it as you wish :D.

Trench Hounds are cursed hunting dogs that roam the battlefields and trenches of war. No one knows who or what first created them, some blame dark spirits, others the endless suffering of the battlefield itself.

They move quietly through the mud and smoke, searching for wounded soldiers. When they find one, they do not tear the body apart like normal beasts. Instead, they feed on the fading life of the dying, drawing the last breath and strength from them

Leech Knight — the most loyal servant of the Cult of the Leech. He abandoned his humanity and became a living vessel, fused with leech and worm alike.

From his corrupted body, he spreads the spawn of the Leech Lord, planting them into the world as a creeping plague.

Few survive the ritual. Most become mere hosts, devoured from within.
Those who endure… are no longer human.

This is my version of the Amalgam from Trench Crusade—an abomination born from the trenches. It is composed of sandbags, trench wood, guns, artillery, dead soldiers, and even parts of a horse.

Its silhouette is meant to resemble a walking trench or a moving fortification of what fell in the trenches, slowly advancing toward you.

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Lord of Leeches – once a devoted battlefield healer, known for using leeches to cleanse wounds and draw sickness from dying soldiers. He walked among the fallen as a symbol of fragile hope, saving lives where others saw only death.

But over time, surrounded by endless suffering and despair, he began to crave more than simple healing. Dark whispers offered him power—the ability not just to cure, but to control life itself. He gave in, and his methods became something far more sinister.

His leeches no longer fed on disease, but on strength, vitality, and the very soul. The wounded he once saved became his victims, drained slowly as he stole their last remnants of life.

At the heart of his corruption lies a single monstrous leech that burrowed into his body and never left. With every life he drains, it grows larger, twisting and tearing him from within. His body decays and stretches under its presence, yet he continues to feed, bound to the hunger he created.

Now, he wanders the battlefield as a cursed figure—no longer a healer, but a living parasite, feared by all who still cling to life.