This project holds a very special place in my heart.
Mr. Genag is a character I created for an international character design contest organized by the Mordheim community. Although the original game was discontinued back in 2000, its players have kept it alive stronger than ever.
The love for the game runs so deep that even its original creator has joined the community, and together they organize creative contests to expand its lore — through characters, warbands, scenarios, and more.
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Mr. Genag was the result of a creative process that combined 3D design, storytelling, illustration, and in-game character creation.
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He earned first place, awarded personally by the game’s original creator — an honor I will always treasure.
Here I include part of the 3D modeling process, the illustration, and the original PDF featuring Mr. Genag’s narrative and his in-game stats.
✍️ **All elements were entirely created by me** ✍️
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https://broheim.net/downloads/dramatispersonae/facebook/Dr. Doppler, Mr. Genag.pdf
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We've been in this hole for over seven days, but it feels like a terrible eternity. I've participated in many wars and campaigns, serving both great and minor generals. I've endured the fear, despair, and uncertainty of a soldier. But this fetid city manages to unsettle me more each day than anything else I've experienced so far. What was once a promise of riches and treasures has become a torturous struggle to stay alive. Perhaps, I should say to keep us alive. We are ten in total, a small company, all from different corners of the empire, but with a common goal: to return home with our pockets full.
Undoubtedly, these are not the companions I would choose voluntarily, but under these circumstances and as events have unfolded, I must admit that compared to the other specimens that Mordheim can offer, I find myself in a relatively good situation. The fights are daily, and good soldiers are scarce.
That's why, and not out of any affection or sentimentality, we have spent the last two days in search of a healer to help with the wound our comrade Baldwin suffered in the last battle. Being one of the most skilled warriors in the art of beheading, we try to keep him as intact as possible. We have heard through a contact that a scholar resides in this district of the city. We do not know his name, but it seems that his knowledge of alchemy and the human body might suffice to keep Baldwin alive.
After an entire day without luck, it seems that finally, fate smiles upon us. Just when we were about to give up, a figure emerged from within a building in ruins. A small, hunched man, who undoubtedly has seen better days but still, in his own unique way, seems to retain a certain elegance and manners, worthy of a person of standing. He introduces himself as Dr. Doppler, mentioning that our contact had informed him that we were looking for him. Being in the most decadent corner of the Empire, we did not immediately trust him. Guntbert unsheathed his jeweled dagger and placed it on his neck, exerting a pressure that, if increased, would take his life in an instant. Suddenly, cries and a strong smell of urine invaded the atmosphere. I don't know how this man has survived so long in such an inhospitable place, but such intimidation was enough for me to understand that he would not be a threat to us.
With the dagger returned to its place, the atmosphere relaxed, and we explained the reason for our visit. More relieved and seemingly understanding why we had come, he asked us to accompany him to his laboratory, where he had the necessary elements to tend to our companion.It was a large house in a pitiable state, three stories high with large windows on all its fronts. Once inside, its interior was slightly less unpleasant. The entrance hall led directly to a grand staircase that went up to the upper floors, while in one corner there was a small door leading to what the scholar mentioned as his workplace. I accompanied Baldwin there, we descended a few steps and under the light of a pile of torches, I placed him on a large wooden table prepared for the wounded. Dr. Doppler examined the wounds, applied some tonics to them, and gave him a potion of yellowish coloration. Once this was done, he asked me to go upstairs with him.
Back in the hall, with everyone gathered around him, he explained very plainly that Ludolf should spend the night under observation. Looking towards the stairs, he invited us to spend the night on the third floor as the sun was setting and knowing that going out into the streets at this hour was a death sentence. He asked us to secure the main door with a large oak plank, which took three of us to lift and place. Although the place was repulsive to us and we still didn't fully trust the stranger, it seemed the most sensible thing to do. Being nine armed men, experienced in combat and in a closed environment, few things would seek to assault us in such disadvantageous conditions...
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The silence is absolute, and the breathing of my companions barely audible. For some reason, I cannot fall asleep, even though it's not my turn for watch. My companions seem to be in the same state. It's not normal for this city to be without a single sound at these hours of the night, which belong to the blasphemous, the undead, and other abominations I dare not name. Their absence is more unsettling than their presence. Suddenly, a scream shatters the silence like thunder. It's a desperate howl of pain and agony. We are all alert, but frozen, hoping it's an isolated incident. Seconds later, the scream repeats, more intense, conveying even greater distress.
With all our weapons in hand, we open the door of the room. The darkness is absolute, but I don't remember anyone extinguishing the torches in the hallway or on the stairs. Peering over the stair railing, only shadows are visible, formed by the dim light entering from the windows of the lower floors. The scream grows louder and more horrific, and I have no doubt about its source... As we start descending the stairs, the screams intensify, as if a horrendous torture is being conducted. Each step turns what began as a startle into a deep horror at what might be below. Some of my companions start to lag behind on the stairs, waiting for others to take the lead.
Gradually, I realize many have disappeared into the darkness, and I no longer perceive them as easily. Suddenly, a soft creak of wood, distinct from our cautious steps. A sharp shriek and a loud crash sound behind me, followed by the sound of breaking bone. What was silence only interrupted by the whimper that alerted us, turns into a symphony of terror-filled howls, thuds, and the creaking of wood groaning as if a hundred men were walking on it. In my desperation and unable to see what was happening, I start swinging wildly. I think I hit something, but I can't be sure it isn't one of my unfortunate companions. Overwhelmed by indescribable panic, I rush down the stairs towards the main door. Nothing else matters, not even if I run into the streets of this cursed city.
I reach the entrance hall, with sounds of battle still behind me. I hurry to the door, only to find it firmly blocked by the massive oak plank. It's then that a question arises in my despairing mind: How did the alchemist lock this house at night, when he was alone and we need three men just to lift the plank?
The noises, growing closer, intensify behind me. With few options, I head towards the laboratory door. I descend the stairs as best I can, given the absolute darkness. And finally, upon opening a door, I find torches lit inside. It's at this moment I wish with all my being that there had been no light in the room. I cannot find words to describe what lay before me. What remained of Baldwin was tied to a wall, connected to dozens of tubes inserted into his abdomen, through which a strange, brightly colored green liquid flowed. Some mechanism seemed to be pumping this substance into his body. However, Baldwin's remains were swollen and oozing from nearly every limb and orifice as if they were about to burst. Suddenly, I hear footsteps rushing down the stairs. I immediately close the door and turn to hide in one of the corners filled with rubbish.
To my surprise, it was Guntbert who burst through the door and closed it even faster. A heavy thud slammed against the other side. Using his weight to block it, Guntbert wore a look of horror I never thought I'd see on his face. One blow after another made whatever was causing them one step closer to entering. A final blow knocked down the door, extinguishing all the torches, and a long arm, as long as a human body, grabbed Guntbert's head, dragging him into the darkness of the stairs. And there I stayed, hidden in the darkness under the rubbish in the corner of the laboratory, listening to the crunching of bones and Guntbert's screams, which quickly turned into a terrifying silence. I was now alone, hidden among the remains and debris of the laboratory, fearing the worst. In the darkness, my mind struggled to make sense of the events that had just occurred.
After a few minutes, what was a torturous silence was interrupted by an increasingly close sound of spaced and heavy footsteps. There was something in the room, I could feel it, but I couldn't see anything beyond my nose. The only light came from that strange green liquid, always in motion, flowing inside Baldwin, but it was too dim to help me understand what was happening. However, with great effort, I could make out a hunched silhouette in front of Baldwin, manipulating some strange elements over him.
Then I heard it. A raspy, guttural voice saying:
"Enough, enough, calm down. Your friends can no longer bother or interrupt us. I expected more from them, but also more from you. I must admit I'm a bit disappointed, but I believe even under these conditions we can achieve good results. I'll have to sew your mouth shut, I can't allow your screams to fill the night..."-
And suddenly, I observed the figure turning towards me, its two eyes also emitting a strange green light, piercing into mine...
"You'll see, you will be my most successful experiment..."-
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