Vogland is a fictional world I created as the backdrop to a growing collection of 3D-printable Orc miniatures. It exists largely as an excuse for poor decisions, questionable military doctrine, and entirely unnecessary documentation.
Back when I created my very first Orc as a reliable printing aid, I was known purely as “VOG” — or Vog to my YouTube viewers (rhyming with fog). As the fictional setting was never intended to be taken seriously, Vogland seemed a logical name.
It was only much later that I discovered Vogland is also a genuine surname, possibly derived from the Vogtland region in Germany. There is also, entirely coincidentally, a company called VOG Land Services based in Texas, USA.
To any individuals or organisations who may inadvertently receive enquiries relating to Orcs, dubious doctrine, or shiny codpieces as a result of this project, I offer my sincere apologies. None of this was intentional.
When presented in video or in writing, a dry, semi-authoritative tone is used, as though someone has gone to great effort to record events that really should have been quietly forgotten. Catastrophic mistakes are treated as training milestones, incidents become doctrine, and nothing is ever formally acknowledged as a failure.
If you take anything that happens in Vogland seriously, you’ve gone horribly, horribly wrong.
The Vogland Orcs are not grimdark monsters or towering engines of terror. Visually, they lean toward expressive, slightly cartooned designs, with exaggerated proportions and characterful poses. They are confident, over-equipped, and firmly convinced of their own professionalism.
The humour comes from earnest incompetence rather than slapstick. The Orcs believe they are highly trained soldiers. The fact that this belief is rarely supported by evidence is never addressed directly.
Several loosely organised regiments currently exist, including:
Each Orc is designed as a standalone miniature, but together they form a growing, internally consistent cast whose continued survival suggests that lessons are rarely learned.
I’m probably best known for reviewing resin printers on YouTube, and it was through that work that I grew tired of downloading files that simply didn’t print reliably. Vogland began with a single Orc designed to be properly supported, predictable, and repeatable — a dependable test subject.
Over time, that Orc multiplied.
What started as a practical exercise became something more enjoyable: a small, absurd world built around the idea that models can be fun, characterful, and still print cleanly. Vogland exists to serve that balance.
Partway through the series, I was approached by the 3D printing company Piocreat (the resin printing arm of Creality). I was pleasantly surprised that they had not only seen my Orcs, but actually wanted to sponsor me to make a few more. I was thrilled, and made several videos showing how their excellent Halot X1 16K resin printer coped with Orc anatomy. I continue to be grateful for their kindness.
All Vogland Orcs are free to download, available both pre-supported and unsupported across major model libraries such as Printables, Thingiverse, MakerWorld, Thangs, and Cults3D.
They are designed specifically with resin printing in mind and are regularly used as real-world print examples. Some Orcs have accompanying videos that explore — in unnecessary detail — Vogland lore and its many absurdities.
Above all, the goal is simple: they should be good models to print and paint, regardless of whether you care about the fictional world they inhabit.
Vogland continues to expand at a sensible pace, usually dictated by poor ideas and available time. New Orcs appear periodically, often accompanied by documentation explaining why their existence was inevitable.
If you enjoy miniatures with personality, subtle humour, and the sense that an entire military structure was written after the accident rather than before it, you’re welcome in Vogland.
