Interesuje me da li ima neko da je uspeo da ofarba oci na zealotima za warmachine, i ako ima, da mi kaze sta radim pogresno? Inace nemam problem sa farbanjem ociju, ali ovde je bas, bas sitno i nikako ne mogu da pridjem ocima a da ne zajebem jos nesto, ili da ne ispadnu razroki....
Napomena: cak se i na kutiji od zealota vidi da su im oci samo inkovane... znaci ni njihovi farbaci to izgleda nisu uspeli. Samo, nekako mi je glupo da imam bezoke modele....
Evo i linka ka sajtu... i tamo su samo inkovali oci:
http://www.privateerpress.com/WARMACHIN ... ure&id=203
http://www.privateerpress.com/WARMACHIN ... ure&id=193
kliknite na sliku da dobijete krupni plan...
'Fala unapred!
Savet dobrodosao...
Savet dobrodosao...
I must appologize for the explosion that blew off the door of The Chamber Unbreachable, but the simultaneous emergence of seventeen demons from the book spine, caused the spiritual detonation in the soul stoned air of the room.
The whole enterprise was an experience most horrendeous. None but I could have endured it. I was almost damned twice. Even now my soul is twisted to a cork screw.
I suggest you keep the state of your soul to yourself, and inform us, instead, what you have gleamed from the Grimoire.
Hatred and prejudice will never be eradicated. And witch hunts will never be about witches. To have a scapegoat - that's the key. Humans always fear the alien, the odd. Once the mages had left Novigrad, folk turned their anger against the other races... and, as they have for ages, branded their neighbors their greatest foes.
And 'cause I was gazillionaire and I liked doing it so much, I cut that grass for free.
Glory to Arstotzka!
Peeeeroo.... genijalcino... opet si nadmasio samoga sebe :lol:
Uspeo sam da im uradim oci
Uspeo sam da im uradim oci
I must appologize for the explosion that blew off the door of The Chamber Unbreachable, but the simultaneous emergence of seventeen demons from the book spine, caused the spiritual detonation in the soul stoned air of the room.
The whole enterprise was an experience most horrendeous. None but I could have endured it. I was almost damned twice. Even now my soul is twisted to a cork screw.
I suggest you keep the state of your soul to yourself, and inform us, instead, what you have gleamed from the Grimoire.
Hatred and prejudice will never be eradicated. And witch hunts will never be about witches. To have a scapegoat - that's the key. Humans always fear the alien, the odd. Once the mages had left Novigrad, folk turned their anger against the other races... and, as they have for ages, branded their neighbors their greatest foes.
And 'cause I was gazillionaire and I liked doing it so much, I cut that grass for free.
Glory to Arstotzka!
