Goblin City - Blackcrow Miniatures - Competition Piece 2026

I've said before that there are certain pieces that seem to call out to me on some strange, subconscious level—pieces that I simply have to own. Goblin City was one of those. Unfortunately, my bank account didn't share my enthusiasm.

When the pre-orders opened, they started disappearing at an alarming rate and, as anyone who's ever collected miniatures knows, FOMO is very, very real. Thankfully, Bernie—the Head Cat Herder over at Mischa's Miniature Bazaar—managed to secure one for me. So, before anything else, thank you Bernie... you absolute legend.

The original plan was pretty straightforward.

Paint some goblins.

That was it.

I also wanted an excuse to put a new range of paints through their paces. They'd been sent to me by the incredibly talented Mr. Pigments, and because they hadn't officially been named yet, I affectionately dubbed them "Mr. Pigments' Apothecary of Exotic, Rare and Extinct Pigments." Dramatic? Maybe. Accurate? Absolutely. They're some of the nicest paints I've ever had the pleasure of using, made from carefully selected historical and unusual pigments that are unlike anything else in my collection.

Everything was going exactly to plan...right up until I started painting the Goblin King.

He had this expression.

That scowl.

That smug, self-important look as though he was staring straight through me saying, "I alone can fix this."

Then I envisioned the oversized bandage on his ear.

The obsession with gold.

The suspiciously orange complexion.

And suddenly I couldn't unsee it.

A terrible idea had entered my brain.

Could I actually pull this off?

Would people get the joke? Would the judges appreciate it—or mark me down for leaning into satire? Would I get tariffed into the next millennium?

The rational part of my brain tried desperately to stop me.

The hobby goblin living somewhere in the back of my skull simply replied,

"Nope... we're doing this."

And that was that.

Before long the rest of the cast followed.

A heavily made-up archer with an oddly theatrical flair.

A bedraggled knight whose slightly glazed expression and suspiciously hidden bottle suggest perhaps he's made one too many questionable decisions.

A perpetually confused cross-eyed little frog who somehow found himself completely out of his depth.

Individually they're just quirky little goblins.

Together...

Well...

I'll let you decide.

Like all good satire, the piece isn't really about any one person. It's about power, greed, ego, and what happens when those entrusted with looking after everyone become more interested in looking after themselves.

The goblins are thriving.

The townsfolk... not so much.

This is one of the centrepieces I'll be taking to Crimson Brush 2027, alongside Amanita Shaman. Both pieces have pushed me well outside my comfort zone in completely different ways, and I've poured an enormous amount of myself into each of them.

It's a long trip, but if these pieces make people stop, smile, laugh... or even think for a moment, then I'll consider that a success.

Of course, bringing home some silverware wouldn't hurt either.