The STL Trenches

A character for the wonderful game Necropolis. Designed for a 28mm world he stands at just over 40mm to the top of his engorged skull. Base not included. Pre-supported and unsupported files included. Don't have a 3d Printer yet or no time for producing your own miniatures? Checkout 3D Kingdoms where you can get our minis printed and delivered to your door.

A massively modular miniature builder kit for 3D printing and a infinite supply of various bits!

No description

Plague soldier inspiring Nurgle Chaos Warrior

Includes: Mer-Zabal, Guardian of the Mother's Kiss (Medium Size) 25 mm base (separated base) Includes Original STL, Supported STL, and Lychee Slicer File.

The Blacktear Mourning Knights form the shattered backbone of the funeral march, once-honored warriors now reduced to living vessels of grief and corruption. Their armor hangs unevenly from swollen bodies, plates bolted together from scavenged remnants and darkened by rust and constant weeping. Beneath cracked helms stare eyes that never dry, leaking cold black blood as an unending confession of loss. Their flesh bears unmistakable swine-like traits — thickened jaws, split snouts, coarse bristles forcing through diseased skin — the residue of gluttonous blessings that turned rancid when their promised paradise was torn away. These knights were shaped by a power that offered transcendence through decay and dominion through pestilence. When that power was destroyed, they were left behind, neither redeemed nor released. The revelation forced upon their minds did not fade; it hollowed them, leaving memory without meaning. Cast out and denied purpose, they eventually bent the knee to the Antipope not in hope of salvation, but because obedience was the last structure left to shattered souls. Service became routine, and routine became survival. On the battlefield, the Blacktear Mourning Knights fight with grim discipline twisted by despair. They advance in measured lines, shields locked, blades rising and falling with ritual precision, as though reenacting wars that ended long ago. Pain is neither feared nor sought — it is simply endured. Many adorn themselves with crude jewelry fashioned from corroded weapons, broken armor fragments, and relic shards taken from their fallen lord, believing the lingering corruption within these objects preserves memory. Their low chants drift across the trenches like funeral smoke, promising nothing but shared annihilation. Their role in the war is to embody inevitability. They are unleashed where resistance must be broken not by speed or brilliance, but by the slow erosion of will. To face the Blacktear Mourning Knights is to confront warriors who have already lost everything worth defending. They do not fight for victory, glory, or faith — they fight because the march has not ended, and until it does, neither can they. “We have already buried our future. Now we bury yours.”   🖨️ Perfect for resin printing 🎨 A dream for painters and grimdark collectors   One model – “Blacktear Mourning Knight #1”, designed by Wargames Crew In this set you receive: Axe Hammer Revolver Shield  Total size 64mm Base size is 32mm   These files were professionally supported and test printed by Anycubic M7.

The Blacktear Mourning Knights form the shattered backbone of the funeral march, once-honored warriors now reduced to living vessels of grief and corruption. Their armor hangs unevenly from swollen bodies, plates bolted together from scavenged remnants and darkened by rust and constant weeping. Beneath cracked helms stare eyes that never dry, leaking cold black blood as an unending confession of loss. Their flesh bears unmistakable swine-like traits — thickened jaws, split snouts, coarse bristles forcing through diseased skin — the residue of gluttonous blessings that turned rancid when their promised paradise was torn away. These knights were shaped by a power that offered transcendence through decay and dominion through pestilence. When that power was destroyed, they were left behind, neither redeemed nor released. The revelation forced upon their minds did not fade; it hollowed them, leaving memory without meaning. Cast out and denied purpose, they eventually bent the knee to the Antipope not in hope of salvation, but because obedience was the last structure left to shattered souls. Service became routine, and routine became survival. On the battlefield, the Blacktear Mourning Knights fight with grim discipline twisted by despair. They advance in measured lines, shields locked, blades rising and falling with ritual precision, as though reenacting wars that ended long ago. Pain is neither feared nor sought — it is simply endured. Many adorn themselves with crude jewelry fashioned from corroded weapons, broken armor fragments, and relic shards taken from their fallen lord, believing the lingering corruption within these objects preserves memory. Their low chants drift across the trenches like funeral smoke, promising nothing but shared annihilation. Their role in the war is to embody inevitability. They are unleashed where resistance must be broken not by speed or brilliance, but by the slow erosion of will. To face the Blacktear Mourning Knights is to confront warriors who have already lost everything worth defending. They do not fight for victory, glory, or faith — they fight because the march has not ended, and until it does, neither can they. “We have already buried our future. Now we bury yours.”   🖨️ Perfect for resin printing 🎨 A dream for painters and grimdark collectors   One model – “Blacktear Mourning Knight #2”, designed by Wargames Crew In this set you receive: Plague shotgun Filththrower Blight cannon Shield  Total size 50mm Base size is 32mm   These files were professionally supported and test printed by Anycubic M7.

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.