Simple Terrain (Pt. 1 of 2)

Probably nobody that checks this blog knows that I used to be big into miniatures. Truth is I kinda fell out of it for awhile after the models kept piling up, conversely to my motivation to paint them. In fact, I only did a single, 5-model squad, and that took me approximately four days of painstaking, eye-straining work.

Terrain and beauty pieces were another matter. These I actually enjoy, and a week or two ago I decided to start building a new one. Hopefully the first of a long line of them. Ostensibly, this was meant as WH:40k terrain, but since I failed to plan it out for playability, let’s just cheat and call it a diorama piece.

Making terrain can be as simple or as complicated as you want to make it. There are people on the miniature and gaming forums that do some outstanding, extravagant work that I’ll never be able to duplicate. I’m a novice at worst, and at best, average.

I’m not going to let that stop me from showing you how to follow my techniques, though. Hopefully we’ll both learn from my mistakes.

TUTORIAL PROPER:

 

By far, the most important piece of equipment that you absolutely must have is a styrofoam cutter or hot-knife. You can cut and manipulate styrofoam with things like steak-knives and X-acto blades, but once you try a hot-wire, you’ll never go back.

 

I began by cutting out the bottom-most portion as a single block of styro. Unless you’re aiming for a specific feature or shape, just be random with it. I like to watch the pieces come alive as I go, coming up with ideas or things I’d like to try while working on it. Maybe not the best method, but you can judge for yourself how it ends up.

After I had the basic shape, I cut three more pieces (since I wanted three height levels) and loosely placed them to get an idea of how everything would fit together. I took pieces of scrap to fill out raised edges. Again, just as an idea.

 

After I had the pieces for the second level fitted properly (with some overhang on the outside, you’ll see why in a moment), I used hot-glue to secure them in place. Then I used the styro-cutter to finalize the edges of the piece. Overhang on the upper pieces allowed for seamless blending.

I then did the same with the uppermost scrap, after I’d decided where I wanted them, and used the cutter to shape the “boulders”, and used the end to model large cracks in the side of the “stone”.

 

Hey! It sort of looks like something! If you wanted, you could start painting now. I’ve done it in the past, and the result typically looks okay. Two notes of caution though. No matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to get paint into all of the pores, leaving a handful of unsightly white, shiny holes. Second, if you use spray-paint, the toluene solvent in the cans will melt styrofoam to some extent.

I did not stop here though, and I’m glad I didn’t.

Enter Plaster of Paris.

I buy mine in 25 lb. bags from my local Lowes, and it’s easy enough to use, so long as you read the safety warnings. Use gloves and a dust mask for this next part, as well as a disposable mixing container and stirrer. You can see that I used a piece of mesh screen over an aluminum roasting pan in order to catch the excess.

Mix the plaster in a 1:2 ratio of water / plaster and gently pour it over the styrofoam. In hindsight, I would say you could use a slightly thinner mix. The normal ratio tended to pool and mound rather than flow in and between, and I had to use a brush to remove the excess. This actually had a positive side, though, as the brush-marks in the solidifying plaster gave it a really nice, naturalistic texture.

 

Keep in mind, plaster is brittle. It cracks and chips easily, especially with a thin shell like what we’ve just created. From this point on, the model must be handled with the utmost care. At this point, I cut out a square base of foamboard and attached the model to it with generous amounts of superglue, including a healthy bead around the entire bottom edge.

After this, more than a week passed for me, since I finally had an excuse to use the shiny new air-compressor I’d bought specifically for my airbrush. I should’ve opened it sooner, because it turned out I needed a special adapter to connect the two. *facepalm*

After ordering the part and waiting for it to be delivered, it was finally time to start painting.

I’m not going to do much of a “how-to” for this part, since color choices are up to the individual. I’m using cheap craft acrylics like Applebarrel and Folkart, and they are extremely difficult to work with after they’ve been thinned. They provide very little coverage, meaning you have to go over spots 3-5 times, and they almost universally dry several shades darker than they look, making color choices difficult.

Still, I managed to get the base-coats on with the airbrush, and somewhat happy with the way the colors turned out.

 

Again, you could probably leave it like this, and in some circles it would be acceptable. Not for me.

On to stippling. Stippling is similar to drybrushing, except that it uses a special brush called, yup, you guessed it, a stippling brush.

I suppose there’s a measure of technique involved, but it really boils down to wetting the hairs of the brush with paint, wiping most of it off on a paper towel, and then doing your best Norman Bates impression all over the model. Typically you want to start with darker colors and work your way up through the lightest, and if you want to get really into it, use the colors in various proportions on different parts of the model, such as edges, to simulate wear.

As I was going for a foresty-type of rock outcropping, I used shades of reddish-brown, khaki, and green to achieve the look I wanted.

 

And that’s the end of Part 1.

Part 2 will deal with extraneous detail, such as adding sand, dirt, and flocking to beautify it, perhaps a tad more touch-up painting and how to do an ink-wash, and sealing.