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Sigil Hero Forge Miniatures


The correlation between fantasy fan and miniature aficionado is pretty much 1:1, so it's no surprise we at Sigil went a little nuts designing our protagonists of at Hero Forge. If you haven't checked out Hero Forge yet to create your own custom miniatures, then you're missing out, and perhaps this collection of our Sigil protagonists might change your mind.

Task: The monster was immense, standing at least nine foot tall without being generous. Its flesh was made of slabs of stone knitted together, ashen-grey with veins of misty blue, shifting with every crunch and shiver of its swollen limbs. Its shoulders were as broad as a battering ram, and its fingers were jagged shards, stained black like a fireplace and shining like marble at the tips.

The Crimson Queen: She was like a statue upon her golden throne, her back straight as a sword, her skin unnaturally pale. Fiery red curls tumbled around her long white neck and lay upon the ruffle of her scarlet dress.

Sylvana ( From the upcoming Euphora Online) I hesitated, then waved back. Her smile widened, and despite it all, despite my pain and despair and loss, I couldn’t help but smile back. Her smile was just that infectious. As I approached I couldn’t help but wonder: just how high was her charisma? She was winning me over just with a wave.

She waited for me to approach, hands returning to her generous hips over which she wore low-slung and form-fitting leggings. Her knee-high boots had folded tops and redundant buckled straps down their length, while a leaf-shaped dagger was shoved in her broad and double-tongued belt with a large, ornate iron buckle.

Everything about her was carefully put together. Her midriff was bare, revealing her athletic figure, and her full breasts were cupped by a black half-corset strapped to a broad leather collar about her slender neck. Bare shoulders, bare upper arms, and then full ivory sleeves from the elbows down to her brown leather gloves.

But it was her face that caught my attention and held it. She had the kind of beauty you only see on glossy magazine covers. The kind even the real models themselves don’t display in person. I’d describe her as elfin if I hadn’t just run into Delphina, but she had something of the fey about her, something elusive and ethereal that was undercut by her confident smile and forthright gaze. It was just as easy to picture her meditating in a glade, cherry blossoms falling about her, as it was to imagine her knocking back shots at a bar.

Nora: I learned through practice: kick hard when you have the chance. Aim for parts that hurt. Hope you get lucky and his surprise shocks him into being stupid. Then knock him out with the shovel if you’ve got one handy. If not, go find the shovel - Nora Smith

Amra: I dress like a man and have the figure of a boy, and if someone gets close enough to see my face and figure out my gender, they’re also close enough to see a few of my more prominent scars. It’s usually enough. If not, I’ve spent a lot of time working up competence with knives.

Adalbrand: The squire wore the silver spurs of his rank and the white star of his Order upon his surcoat. He was armed with spear and sword; the shield upon his arm carried the golden eagle of his house.

Peter: The physique of a world-class athlete at the peak of fitness, rippling with muscle beneath smooth mid-tone skin. A man pads into the room in bare feet and tan khaki cargo pants, vigorously rubbing his head with a towel. A white cotton dress shirt is thrown over his shoulder and he carries a vintage stenciled haversack.

Anders: A drunkard lay on the ground outside the door, his head resting against the wall of the tavern. He was wearing a faded green suit that had long since seen better days and was bordering on retirement. His hair was tussled and grimy from the dust of the street, and he was cradling an empty bottle like it was a new-born babe.

The Magpie King: And then the Magpie King was there. Adahy’s father was just a man, but in the dark with his feathered cloak swirling about him, he seemed like a giant. In each hand he wielded two giant black iron sickles, a single one too heavy for Adahy to hold aloft for any length of time. His key distinguishing feature, however, was the mask that he wore to cover his face. The decorative iron helm protruded forward and down, mimicking the beak of a Magpie, and was connected to the king’s cloak by a matching mane of black and white Magpie feathers. When he wore it Adahy’s father stopped being human and took on the mantle of his ancestors, pledged to protect the Corvae and the forest.

Marta Childress: Had she any care left in her appearance, the state of her hair would have horrified her. As a child she brushed it a hundred strokes a night, but now it was a tangled mess, the auburn tresses that had inspired countless suitors in her stint in the Auld Lands faded to the brown of mud. Pulling her hair back with her free hand, Marta intended to examine her face, but her eyes flicked to the ruin of her right ear. The bottom half was lost at the battle of Bergen Creek, but it was not the worst scar she bore.

Darien: Wearing the black cloak of Aerysius with the Silver Star emblazoned at his back, the hilt of the longsword thrusting over his shoulder, Darien knew he conveyed a dangerous strength that was uncommon even among most mages. It was the contradiction of the star and the sword...

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