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South London Legions - Narrative Campaign


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South London Legion - Narrative

2017


 

Background

Gael moved along the walkway, being mindful of the slippery wood. A fall from this height may not be deadly, but he would be hard pushed to escape the swamp waters below. During the dry seasons, the forest floor would be covered in foliage, fruits and grazing animals, but the wet season saw the area for leagues around flooded.

The tribe’s Elders had said this was the longest Rain Season in a Generation, it was not uncommon for the area to have Rain that lasted a few months, but the this Rain had been going for 900 days now. Gael had almost forgotten what it was like to feel grass between his toes.

If it wasn’t for the Sky Folk the tribe would be forced to migrate away from the area, but an agreement made generations before had made it possible for the tribe to survive these long Rain Seasons, and this one was no different.

In return for food and supplies, the tribe would harvest the algae from the swamps below. The Duardin paid well for the algae, Gael had been told it was used as a lubricant in the Endrins of the sky ships.

This Rain Season had been good business for the Tribe, and now Gael had something else to sell, information.

Two days before there had been a landslide to the North of Horn Mountain. Not unusual for the area, but this one had been so large it took a large portion of the forest with it, including some of the Tribe’s stores.

When help had finally reached the area, it wasn’t just the cleanup operation that greeted them. Staring out from the mountain side was an eye of something absolutely monumental in size, something that had remained hidden for so long had now been uncovered. But what was it?

Scene

The Stories of this Hinterland campaign take place in the Realm of Ghur (Beasts), around the body of a Godbeast. Nothing is known about the beast, where it came from, how long it had been there, but it is many hundreds of km tall and has infused the area with unknown magical power.

Unknown riches await those brave enough to stake a claim.

Rules

All the rules and battleplans from Hinterlands are being used, you can find them on the TGA Forums, here.

  1. Any unpainted MODELS do not receive XP.

  2. If no fluff is written for your Warband, you do not receive any of the ‘Campaign Outcomes’ from the battleplans.

    1. Each week, a small amount of fluff should be written to continue your Warband’s Story.

  3. You must see 50% or more of the model to be able to target a model with shooting or a spell. 

Conclusion

At the conclusion of the Hinterlands campaign, the club will be moving to a Path to Glory campaign.

  • Your General, will continue with the Stats it has gained during the Hinterland Campaign.

  • If you have 3 models from the same unit, you may take a full unit of these in your Path to Glory.

    • For Example, if your Hinterlands Warband has 3 Bloodreavers, this will translate into a Squad of 10 for Path to Glory. If you have 6 Bloodreavers, you can take one Squad of 20 Bloodreavers.

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Warband Narrative Backgrounds

Drynax Doommarked - @Bowlzee

“Kalkos had been weak! Khorne had forsaken him on the battlefield, and his armies have been crushed by the Lightning men”, Drynax addressed the small number of men that had escaped the battle of the previous night.

“Khorne’s grip on this realm wavers, his armies pushed back or destroyed. We will find no glory in Khorne’s name here.” Takhoar grunted, whether in agreement or dissent, Drynax had no idea. Drynax had come to the Bullgor’s aid when he made his escape. It now followed him, whether to repay a life debt or some other reason, Drynax had no idea. The Bullgor’s strength was the prime reason the few men he’d come across had decided to join him.

“Only one man can bring us the glory we crave now, but the path will not be easy. He does not welcome the weak, only the strong reach his gates. Only the Strong are given a place by his side.” Morbar grinned, the Blood Warrior was probably already planning when to usurp Drynax as leader of this sorry band of men. He will need to be watched.

“Archaon awaits us, but first we must prove ourselves worthy. The path to our glory lies in the Realm of Beasts, to the remains of the Godbeast!“. Hezroth and his band of Bloodreavers cheer. Drynax doubted they will see the end of this quest, but he needed the body count, he could not do this alone. 

Drynax doesn’t know what awaits them in the Realm of Beasts, but rumours had been spreading like wildfire through the camp before the battle the previous night. The remains of a Godbeast had been found, and who knows what wonders, glories and treasures it would bring but he would carve a bloody line of destruction through the Realm and make a name for himself. 

Archaon would have no choice but to take notice of him, to elevate him to his Varanguard. 


Drynax Doommarked - Skullginder - 40g
- Lord of War
Takhoar - Bullgor - 60g
Morbar - Blood Warrior - 20g
Hezroth - Bloodreaver - 7g 
- Champion
Galrak - Bloodreaver - 7g
Guron - Bloodreaver - 7g
Vukos - Bloodreaver - 7g

Total: 148g

 

Skullcrack Eyegouger - @Thanatos Ares

Skullcrack was agitated and the boys knew it. At times like this it was best to leave the boss alone unless you wanted to taste the sharp edge of the bosses massive cleava. Ever since the boss had been thumped by a particularly drunken gargant he had been what could best be described as 'even more unhinged' which made the boys equal parts awed and nervous around him. But today was different, Skullcrack had been mumbling about a vision from Gork, a fallen ancient godbeast had been shown him in a vision. But he didn't know where to go to find it... so he had paced up and down the same stretch of grassland for 3 days now.

Suddenly Skullcrack froze, his eyes glowed an un-natural green. His lips moved furiously without making a sound then a blood curdling WAAAAAAGH!! Erupted from his throat... 

So powerful was the call the boys immediately felt Gork (or Morks) presence and knew a holy crusade had been called. 

As one the boys joined in the call..

"Rite, da gods has a plan. And it's dis way" said Skullcrack motioning eastwards with his cleava.

"Follow me boyz, we'ez gunna find us a gods bone" and with that he grinned and started eastwards.

Naturally the boys followed him...

 

Skullcrack Eyegouger - Savage Orruk Big Boss - 50g
Da Krackens Toof - Big Stabba - 50g
Borgut Painspear - Savage Orruk Boar Boy - 12g
Morglum Necksnappa - Savage Orruk Boar Boy - 12g
Badruk 'Eadsmasha - Savage Orruk Boar Boy Maniak - 16g
Borzug Dungflinga - Savage Orruk - 10g

Total: 150g

 

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - @Nathan Hammerhand

Megaboss Muzgash could not be considered the most intelligent of beings. In fact, he couldn’t even be considered intelligent amongst Orruks. Most of the Boyz considered this a result of too many blows to the head, proving his mettle against other Bosses, however the truth was far more sinister.

What Muzgash lacked in wits, he more than made up for in size, ferocity and ambition. These traits kept the other Boyz in line. Muzgash had never been beaten in single combat, not unless a tricksy shaman or magic user got involved. That’s why Muzgash hated magic more than anything. Little did he know that his destiny was being shaped by the magic of another.

Recently, Muzgash’s mind had become obsessed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something powerful was coming with the infamous Winds of the Everwinter. He was unsure what he would find, but he knew his destiny was linked with the Winds.

As Megaboss Muzgash the Dim was drawn to the Winds of the Everwinter, his warband eventually clashed with a small but fearsome force of large monsters and Ogre’s riding great steeds. After the skirmish, all of Muzgash’s followers were found dead, frozen to the core, apart from Balcmeg. Balcmeg had been the leader of Muzgash’s Ardboyz, and had butchered a mounted Ogre and tamed the Ogre’s mighty steed. Whilst the pair made a ferocious team, Muzgash knew he would need to recruit more Boyz, if he was to take the fight to the Icewalkers again. As every Orruk knew, the only way to recruit more Boyz, was to bash in the skulls of the other “bosses”, and make sure every Orruk in the Realm’s knew about it...  

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - Orruk Megaboss - 70g
Balcmeg Beast-tamer - Orruk Gore-Grunta - 60g
Ufthak the Untried - Orruk Ardboy - 18g

Total: 148g

 

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - @Nico

James Delaney forged an unusual career. He was born to Valerie Delaney at the height of the siege of the Azul Lodge by Gruzlit's fleet of Grotbag Scuttlers. Valerie was entranced by his glowing eyes - a sure sign of Grimnir's blessing.

Whether by coincidence or divine hand, the eruption of the long dormant volcano, Drakesmaw, decimated Gruzlit's ragtag fleet - plumes of magma swallowing up the Grots' rickety contraptions. Forced to fight on the ground, the Grots fell in droves to the counterattack of the Vulkite Berserkers. Gruzlit attempted to fall back - only to find the Forge Brethren rise out of a pool of molten rock - Magmapikes blazing. 

His minions scrambling to escape, Gruzlit narrowly dodged the arc of a Grandaxe and swiped his cutta into the neck of Cindermaw Runefather Azjol's Magmadroth. Gruzlit was dead kunning, but should have known better. A spray of magma vaporised the left half of his face. Cindermaw roared and clambered to its full height, but then the Manticore venom kicked in - sending the great beast into spasms. Cindermaw toppled down a slope taking Azjol with it. Momentarily stunned by the fall of their leader, the Vulkites watched as a charred Grot Scuttlebag swooped down. Gruzlit's bodyguard of Nasty Skulkers picked up there crippled leader and unceremoniously dumped him onto the vessel. A hail of Fyresteel Axes dented the armour plates of the Scuttlebag, but it limped off into the distance - disappearing into the sulphurous clouds.

With their leader escaped, the Grots courage buckled and the Fyreslayers took bloody vengeance - wiping them out down to the last Grot. That last Grot was the Shaman Rizzik, who coughed up the whereabouts of Gruzlit's fortress in the Yhorn Mountains. While the Azul Lodge had withstood the siege, the Fyreslayers had suffered brutal losses including James's father Harold Delaney - his spine split by the a Skulker's cruel Back Stabba. It would be many years before the Lodge could venture forth to hunt for Ur-Gold or take on a contract.

Valerie brought him up to be a priest - a Runesmiter rather than a Vulkite - with hope of him avoiding Harold's fate. James took to this naturally becoming a skilled manipulator of metals - molten or otherwise. Like all inhabitants of the Azul Lodge he held a burning hatred of all Greenskinz and longed to raze Gruzlit's fortress to the ground. Following his initiation into the priesthood at the Lodge, he resolved that he would not devote his time to studying the books of grudges or tinkering at length with alchemical recipes - he wanted action - he wanted revenge. Craving power He began to dabble in forbidden rituals - carving tainted and curvaceous runes into his flesh from a dusty tome he had  found in the Lodge's library written in pink ink. Other Runesmiters took note of his unusual progress and gossiped behind his back.

His power increased twofold as did his appetites. James and his two younger brothers Horace and Keziah could demolish a keg of ale between them. Half drunk on power, half drunk on ale, James found himself drawn to his sister Zilpha in his dreams. Zilpha was already married at the tender age of 19 to the Battlesmith Zenit. Zilpha too began to see visions of James arising out of the ground and enveloping her in fuming magma. She was captivated. She resisted James's advances at first with disgust, but eventually succumbed to his advances after he infused a runic tattoo on her thigh with Ur-Gold. Neither of them knew that Selene - an emissary of the Dark Prince was manipulating them both for unknown ends.

As luck would have it, The Honourable East Azyr Company - a swift Sky Fleet from Barak Zilfin - docked that winter at the Azul Lodge. Admiral Thaddeus was looking for keen adventurers to join his expedition to the Yhorn Mountains. James was attuned to the breath of Grungni in their Aethermatic weapons and gleaming Endrins. 

Normally so calm, he felt a rush of blood to his head. Before nightfall, James had signed up (in triplicate) the voluminous contract of The Honourable East Azyr Company. With his mother dead, it was Zilpha, who saw him off at the dock with an unusually passionate kiss for a sibling. He mounted a Frigate, which glided off into the clouds. 

Years of raiding in the lava fields of Moltania followed.  James found his formidable prayers complemented the more direct approach of the Arkanauts. His fellow Arkanauts shuddered when James carried out grisly rituals on enemy corpses and living captives. His power continued to grow. Whispers of cannibalism followed him. Nevertheless, he impressed Admiral Thaddeus and promotion to Captain followed on the heels of his heroism against the fearsome Megaboss Krumbler.

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - Runesmiter - 40g
- Reckless
Quartermaster Horace Delaney - Battlesmith - 40g
Mercenary Lieutenant Keziah Delaney - Hearthguard Berserker Champion - 16g
Corporal Nootka - Hearthguard Berserker - 16g
Corporal Musgrove - Hearthguard Berserker - 16g
Sergeant Carlsbad - Auric Hearthguard - 16g

Total: 144g

 

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - @Morglum StormBasha

Morgrim: He was the Boss of Bosses! Biggest and Fightiest eva!

He led the Greatest Waaaagh Ghur had seen! More Boyz than you can count on both hands!

He Krumped so many 'eads he was beloved by Gork!

When he tore down Archaon's Dreadhold he even built an Idol of Gork in it's place!

Any Boy would be proud to follow him to the Fightin'!

Morgrim had gorwn so Mighty that the Chaos Gods took Notice!

They sent the Legions of Khorne against him!

But Morgrim's Waagh was Mighty and defeated the Blades of Khorne!

But Chaos is Tricksy. Morgrim broke his favourite Choppa cutting off Skarbrand's head. So he took his Axe for his own!

But the Axe awoke a hunger in the Boss for Blood and a Fury that could not be quenched!

He slew all the Boyz. Thousands of them until he stood alone on a hill of heads in a sea of Blood!

Even now anything Bigger than a Grot gets near him and he'll kill them. Not for the love of Fightin' but for Blood. For Skulls!

But Gork has not forgotten Morgrim and has sent us to save him and start a new WAAAAGH!

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - Ironjawz Megaboss  - 70g
- General with Wild Fury
Zogak the Great Herald of Gork - Grot Shaman - 40g
Bartorg Chief Git - Grot Boss - 5g
Gitsnik - Grot with bow - 5g
Grok - Grot with spears and shields - 5g
Grak - Grot with spears and shields - 5g
Morgrim's Mites - Snotlings - 20g

 

Corum Half-Light - @Tkaic

For ten days Corum had roamed the wastes, bringing the word of Sigmar to its inhabitants with his healing magics and calming voice. Sadly in these wild parts his words had too often fallen on deaf ears, and his halberd had been forced to raise its own arguments, always eloquently enough.

He was still unsure what drove him ever deep into the Realm of Beasts, he only knew that his dreams were troubled, full of smoke and a half glimpsed golden icon he could never reach. Each morning he woke with the need to press still further.

He had left the Azyr behind accompanied only by his gryph-hound. In truth he would have rather gone alone but the hound’s loyalty and keen ears had proved more than a match for his attempt to sneak out at first light, his first steps being greeted by a playful yip as the beast appeared from the mists.

Ten long days of questing had brought him this far, a tangle of broken buildings overgrown by unhealthy looking bramble and vines. The gryph hound was standing stock still near the largest of these forgotten ruins, a low growl warning him of some chaotic presence within. With a quickening heart Corum strode towards the building, his halberd tight in one hand while he held his sacred lantern aloft, ready to bring its holy light to the darkness ahead.

The next three seconds were a blur of movement. First, two twisted shapes exploded from the building, racing towards Corum in a frenzy of claws and fur. Corum smelt ozone and sensed the sudden flare of lightning behind him. At almost the same time two arrows flew past him, one to skewer each beast. The beasts fell immediately and Corum lowered his lantern. He knew who had come to his aid. An armoured hand gently cuffed his shoulder as a bass voice rumbled softly “I know you didn’t need the help, Lord. But it’s still polite to say thank you.”

Corum sighed. “And I do thank you Castor. Or Pollux. Whichever you are, you both have my thanks.” He turned to greet the two Judicators, who he knew looked as alike beneath their helms as they did now encased in full martial glory. “But what brings you here?”

Castor, or Pollux, replied. “Well, after we swore the oath to always follow and assist you, we were somewhat surprised to wake up and find you gone. So we prayed. For ten days. My knees are never going to be right again.”

Corum’s voice cracked as he removed his own helmet. The trouble in his soul written across his handsome face. “And I released you from that vow. I do not know where I am going, and so it is not fair to bring others with me. The Lord Castellant himself agreed that this was something only I was to do.”

The second Judicator, Pollux or Castor, shook his armoured head gently. “With due respect, the grace of our lord Sigmar, as shown by throwing us by lightning bolt to defend you in your hour of need, argues that there’s a higher purpose after all.”

Corum Half-Light - Lord Castellant - 50g
Gryph hound - 40g
Castor - Judicator - 32g

 

Azgrog - @Rampant shovel

Azgrog grunted, smashing his head into the piece of iron he had been beating into shape. The incessant whooping and hollering of the 'Savage boyz' had started to fray on his only nerve. Azgrog and his boyz had long since given up trying to get rid of them. They had tried everything an orruk could possibly think of, which consisted of giving them a 'good thumpin'. but after multiple bashins, beatins, krumpins and 'thrashins' the Crazies had kept following them and when Azrog and his boyz weren't looking, stealing from them.

The current excitement was over a bit of armour plate Gragh had 'lost' when he had put it down, and a greedy green hand had snuck it from him.

Azgrog looked up, they had gone strangely quiet. He knew what came next. A low grumbling chant started to rise from the group of savages packed around the stolen plate. He got up and stalked towards them. He could almost deal with the maddening noise and their ability to get there sneaky claws on anything not physically strapped to his boyz, Although a few had tried even then. But the Chanting that was just plain un-orrukish and had to be stopped.

Azgrog waded into the group of memorised orruks. He sent one sprawling with a bone shattering back hand and a kick that sent another smashing through the group. He reached the centre and the orruk leading this non sense and gripped him by his scrawny neck. The orruk dropped the bit of armour it had found next to Gragh and tried with futility to pull Azgrog's massive hand away with its fumbling fingers. Azgrog let out a hollering laugh, not much could escape his vice like grip.

There was a violently audible crack as the savage's neck gave way under Azgrogs fist. He threw it's body aside with little thought. He looked about himself expecting the savages to burst into a violent frenzy but instead saw looks of pure awe etched into their scarred faces. He fingered the rough and worn axe at his side and slowly drew it up. The look on the savages faces turned from awe to fear and then back to a curious mixture of the two. He let loose another harsh laugh. He had decided he quite liked the look. He started heading back to the fire where Gragh and Gazok still sat sharpening their weapons.

As an afterthought he tossed his axe back into the group of savages. after all if they were going to insist on following Azgrog and his boyz the might as well be the toughest of the mob.

Anarchy and mayhem broke out behind him as the savages began to fight tooth and nail over the coveted axe.

'Two teef says dat Git getz it' he said retaking his seat at the fire.

 

Azgrog - Brute Boss with boss claw & Smasha - 36g
Gragh - Brute - 36g
Gazok - Brute - 36g
Git - Savage orc Boss - 10g
Da Savages - 3x Savage Orcs - 30

Total: 148g

 

Zander Khanath - @Leonardas

Pulek's Intro...

Pulek had found it!  His Lord would reward him well. 

He ran out of the Coven Librarium, thinking of the journey ahead. 

The scrolls confirmed the existence of the two headed beast, in the sacred mountains of Talo'Tzor in the hinterlands of the Beastlands. 

Vulcharcs flew there too.  This meant Enrass would be needed, his love of those birds would serve their master well during the hunt ahead....

Enrass's intro...

Enrass was a proud man. He was pleased to have been chosen for the hunt. He knew that his skill with the Vulcharc would serve his master well. This was his opportunity to advance his cause in the Coven. He would not let the opportunity slip....

The Watchers intro...

Grazalock and Mo'tiro were known as 'The Watchers' within Tzeentch's great palaces. They were often tasked with charting a favourite mortal's rise to power. Within the Coven the mortals tended to give the blue, spiteful  horrors a  wide berth.

As long as the two diminutive daemons got to 'play' with mortals they did not care what mission the Changer of Ways had given them.  But, they had to concede that this one was destined to play a big part in the grand intrigue. It was clear that his fate was intwined within several of the web ways....

Tzeentch's true children intro...

The herd had been given a sign. Guruman had received Tzeentch's kiss during the ceremony of the false moon. As the drums reached their crescendo the blessing began and by the light of the 3 moons his head split asunder and Guruman became enjoined; he became they; they became Gurumans. 

The auspec was clear; the herd would support Zander's hunt, Varnas and Antrax would accompany Gurumans. If Zander brought back the two headed beast then the herd would match to war. 

Zandor Khanath, Sorcerer Lord of Tzeentch's intro...

The dice were cast although Zander mused over whether any had ever been rolled at all. The grand intrigue was eons old and Zander understood well enough that his role within it was diminutive enough...for now. 

What was beyond doubt was that the beast existed beyond the bedtime tales used to keep wide eyed boys out of further night time mischief. Pulek has found scripts, just as he had promised, that confirmed not just the existence of a blue lizard with wings but one that blew fire from a first mouth and spat acid from a second. 

Zander Khanath would hunt this beast down and with its subjugation unite an army dedicated to his lord and master. The Warband would serve its purpose well, nothing could stop his ascension now.  It was within the hinterlands of Talo'Tazor that he would uncover his purpose within the great intrigue. 

Zander Khanath - Scorcerer on horse - 70g
Pulek - Acolyte with scroll - 14g
Enrass - Acolyte with Vulcharc - 14g
3x Tzaangor - 42g
- 1 with sword and shield, 1 with great weapon, 1 a mutant with 2 swords
Grazalock and Mo'tiro - 2x Blue horrors - 10g

Total: 150g

 

Ithirys Sleepspeak - @Age of The Erstwood

“When the heart desires, the mind finds it indecent to object.”

Even though these were his words, it was the Lord-Relictor who echoed them now, wielding them as he was often wont to do, like a weapon meant to remind him of his own grief—as though either of them needed reminding of that. But Lord Iöthys Shadowfaar knew that his old friend was right, that their Errant-Questor's recollections had developed into a line of questioning not unlike his own. And he knew that this meant that, whatever the cost, Lycan must go in search of those answers. But Iöthys also knew exactly what this would cost him…

“Ithirys, you better than any of my men know that our chamber grows smaller with every battle and you also know, unlike many of them, that we will receive no further aid from Azyr. The Attendant Amora are alone and we are already too few, I cannot afford to spare any more men and yet here you are, asking me to do exactly that…”

“My lord, he asks but for two, the Liberators Caenus & Lupus, his brothers from the Age of Myth, and—“

“And you will go with them too?” Iöthys interrupted, turning away from the Lord-Relictor.

“But I will return my lord, I always return, do I not?”

“What of his visions, can you be sure that they do not lead him to yet more heartbreak..? Despite all his strengths, Lycan is fragile, you know how he struggles to conceive of what has happened to us. Do you not think that it would break him, to go out in search of answers and find nothing…?”

“I have spoken with him at length—”

“You spoke with Lycan at length,” Iöthys said, hanging his eyebrow into a question “I did not think that Lycan spoke at length?”

“Although their imagery is still vague” Ithirys continued, ignoring the Lord-Celestant’s attempt at humour “the meaning of his visions are as clear to him now as the memory of your Anaeys, my Lord. That Lycan died for love and furthermore, in the throes of praying to the God-King for the strength to attend that love, I have no doubt. Iöthys, it was our so-called God-king that took from him in those final moments the one thing that we all coveted, how can either of us now deny him the chance to take it back…”

When the heart desires, the mind finds it indecent to object. The Lord-Celestant said the words again to himself, rolling them around like dice inside a half-clenched fist. At this point they both knew, as they probably had done all along, that Iöthys would not stand in the way any of The Attendant Amora pursing what their heart desires, for he more than any of them knew how it felt as he was the one amongst them who was closest to it.

“The remains of a Godbeast has been discovered in Ghur,” Ithirys said, without moving his lips, which were the only part of his face that wasn’t obscured by his thick red hood “My reckoning is that it could be the very same beast who is troubling Lycan and if as much is true then perhaps this path will lead us to his closure… Don’t worry, I have counselled him about the risks, he understands that all this took place a long time ago, he knows about the Age of Chaos and that it is hopeless to even think that we will find any alive… And yet, in spite of all this, Lycan maintains that all he wishes to do… is to say goodbye.”

Ithirys Sleepspeak - Lord Relictor - 40g
Lycan - Errant-Questor - 70g
Caenus & Lupus - Liberators - 40g

Total: 150g

 

Ungorek - @BeardedBaller

"Have you even tried Aether ale Ungorek? They don't call it nectar of the gods for nothing." Ungorek stares grimly into his tankard of Grugmans. "Times have changed old friend. The skyports offer security, prosperity and most importantly gold... lots of it I hear. What could you possibly offer to top that?"

The High King's cheeks flared. "You watch your tongue Ganil... I wont have you speak to me like some stinking grot." He takes a swig, "in my own court no less!"

"You're in a tavern and your drunk." Ungorek looks around at the dregs of his once proud clan, their beards wet with ****** poor beer. He sighs. "I wont be remembered as the king that let his clan get bought off by those bloody beardlings in the sky."

"What then?" Ganil asks tentatively, his eyebrow raised.

"Times may have changed but we all love a good story don't we, like the ones from the Age of Myth."

"So you're gonna write a book?"

"No dammit we'll give 'em something real. We head out into Ghur; push back the Orruk Horde, explore some forgotten mines, slay one of them damn wyrms, settle a grudge or two, rouse the old gods, you never know, there might even be some gold in it! Who's with me?!" Ungorek was on his feet now, though his audience paid him no attention. Ganil rolled his eyes and buried his face in his tankard as a dangerous looking pair appeared over his shoulders. One looked like a statue of the old gods, a grim look etched onto his face. The other big and burly, even by Dwarvern standards. The former stepped into the light and spoke;

"Heading out into Ghur are ye?"

Ungorek flushes. "Given the proper preparations, aye. We'll be needing rations... maps... ummm and a party! Heh cant just be the two of us."

"My party and I are loaded and ready with enough supplies for six span. Set to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow! Yes well... perhaps the day after. Got to sharpen my blade and all that... hah... how many of you are even are there?" Ungorek blustered, clearly starting to regret his drunken ramblings.

"Eleven, we'll be ready at noon tomorrow. Got a debt to settle with an Orc. So bring a big axe."

"Right tomorrow it is then." Ungorek's eyes dart toward the door then he turns toward Ganil. "You'll be coming too i assume old friend?"

"Curse the old gods and curse my damned name!" Ganil Oathsworn empties his drink and avoids Ungorek's gaze.

Ungorek lifts his drink. "To riches or ruin!"

"You're already in ruin"

"Riches it is then"

_____________

Ungorek and Ganil stand stupidly in their full battle regalia as the 'warband' arrives. The grim faced dwarf leads the party followed closely by a beardling laden with a satchel bursting with firearms. Trailing are two miners, one puffing away on tundraweed and the other merrily whistling to himself. The burly dwarf brings up the rear pulling a cart along with him. Ungorek holds out his hand which is swiftly met by the lead dwarf.

"I suppose its time for a proper introduction before we get on our way. Im Flynt Forgefist." he gestures at the large dwarf pulling the cart, "That there is my brother. He goes by 'Mule' these days. Thats Brag and the one with the pipe is 'Nim.'" 'Nim' lets loose a toothy grin amidst a puff of smoke. "Keep an eye on him. He's got a bit of a thing for mushrooms."

"And I'm Rud Bluntfire, Flynt's apprentice." The young dwarf offering his hand to Ungorek.

"More of a wagonboy really" Flynt grumbles.

"Well it's an honour none the less." Ungorek takes his hand. "How long till the rest arrive? We've got a long road ahead of us. Best we make a start early."

"Oh how rude of me." Flynt calls over his apprentice, relieves him of the satchel and lays out its contents in front of Ungorek. Pointing at a masterfully crafted long-rifle, "This here is Uncle Jinn, thats ol' nan, Tonk, Russ, Brother Stoutbelly and here," revealing the ornate pistol on his hip, "is Sonny." 

It was then that Ganil realised that aide from the lad, who couldn't have been a third of his age, there wasn't a sane mind amongst them.

"Lets be on our way then!" Ganil turns, hoists his shield and brushes past the king he's sworn to protect.

"Gods help us all."

Grimwrath Berserker - 40g
Gunmaster - 40g
Miner x2 - 24g
Mine cart - 12g
Thunderer - 12g
Ironbreaker - 16g

Total: 144g

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Warband Stories - After Week 1 Games

Week 1 Starts 3rd May 2017 - See here for more details

 

Drynax Doommarked - @Bowlzee

Vukos was right, this indeed was the biggest Orruk Drynax had ever seen too. It would make a worthy trophy and offering to Archaon. It was time to prove this warband had the mettle to achieve Drynax’s ambitions.

The giant Orruk was stood in the ruins of an old Graveyard, with a smattering of much smaller greenskins fussing over it. It didn’t appear to be doing much of anything. There were two entrances to the Graveyard, but Drynax didn’t doubt that an Orruk that size could make it’s own exit if required. Still, he needed to cut off the most obvious exit.

He signalled for Morbar to take the rest of the men and flank the big beast at the other entrance, to prevent it’s escape and push it towards himself and Takhoar.

With a roar, Takhoar rushed through the gate, Drynax close behind. A beast of this size could not be taken on head to head, Drynax would use Takhoar to take the brunt of any charge and attack the Orruk in its flanks. 

In the distance Morbar could be seen running into the cemetery with the Bloodreavers, a few of the smaller greenskins could be seen moving to intercept. The large Orruk had suddenly sprung to life, it moved with sudden urgency towards Takhoar, perhaps with the promise of a worthy foe had woken. 

The small greenskins surrounding it were much quicker, Drynax could see he would have to deal with these quickly before the Orruk could reach them. With a heavy swing of the Brazen Anvil, Drynax threw himself at the onrushing greenskins. Feelling bones crunch, small green bodies were sent flying in all directions. But still they persisted, threatening to swamp him and Takhoar.

Drnax looked to Takhoar for support, struggling to get the small greenskins out from under his feet and roaring in frustration, Takhoar was too distracted to see the Orruk charge. Knocked from his feet, Drynax saw the Bullgor go down to a torrent of attacks. His carefully laid plans were going awry, he suddenly felt very vulnerable. You’ve lost!

With a sudden flash of light and a searing pain, Drynax felt a filthy, treacherous bolt of magic hit him square in the back. He cursed, only a cowardly wizard would use such techniques. There was no honour, or glory in attacking an enemy from distance, and with his back turned. Hate coursed through his body and drove him back to his feet. 

Drynax pushed down the pain, and quickly assessed the situation. Takhoar was on his back in a pool of Blood, the Orruk was bellowing in triumph. Several small Greenskins were surrounding him and there was still that wretched magic user out there, retreat was the only course of action he could take. 

Drynax made a run towards the nearest ruins. You’re too late! Another flash of light hit him in the back again, consciousness slipping away before he hit the floor.

 

Wake, you fool! Pain wracked his body, Drynax welcomed it. It meant he was still alive. He slowly opened his left eye, swelling around his right preventing him from opening them both and ideally scratched the birth mark that gave his name, it was unusually warm.

“Hrmmmph. He still lives.” Morbar sounded disappointed as he stood and moved across the campfire. Drynax was surprised Morbar hadn’t killed him while he was unconscious. The reason was soon apparent. Takhoar had survived the battle and was sat watching over him, it grunted and moved off apparently content Drynax was still alive.

He surveyed the camp, everyone appeared to be nursing wounds. They had failed their first test. You’re all too weak. But they were still alive, they still had a measure of strength, they could still triumph.

Dynax pulled himself to his feet, stifling a cry in pain, he could not show any signs of weakness or he would lose what little grip he had on the warband. The Blood Pools, you will find help there. “Get yourselves up! We head to the Blood pools of E’ghath, and regain our strength.”

He guessed they were a full days march away from the Pools, but if they marched quick enough they could be there before darkness fell. The Pools were a dangerous place, they attracted Khorne followers from all around but Drynax was counting on it, he needed more bodies. 

 

Hezroth called out a warning, “Warband ahead!” 

Drynax cursed, he was too weak to take on anyone in his current state. He pushed through to the edge of the woodland and spied out across the plain.

“Magic…” His words dripped with venom. You cannot win this battle. He could taste it, Tzeentchian trickery was thick in the air. 

“We must push through them and get to the Blood Pools. We shall smash them in the left flank and punch a hole through their lines.” 

They could not tarry, they would be spotted at any moment and surprise was their greatest strength right now. The warband pushed on, Takhoar taking the lead using his massive bulk to bound across the plain.

Drynax, deliberately lagged slightly to put a few bodies between himself and enemy. It won’t be enough. He shook the thought from his head, the warband was at full pace now, Takhoar had almost reached a pair of flickering Blue Horrors.

Drynax spotted the Wizard, mounted on a birdlike creature, moving to intercept his Warband. Zander Khanath. The name forced its way into his mind, he spat in disgust. “Get out of my head you cretin!” Rage filled Drynax granting him a portion of Khorne’s power, he would claim Zander’s skull for the Blood God.

A flash of Blue light pulsed Zander’s hand and hit Drynax in the shoulder, he was spun around and sent falling backwards, darkness enveloped him. Failure follows you Drynax….

Drynax Doommarked - Skullginder - 40g
- Lord of War
Takhoar - Bullgor - 60g
Morbar - Blood Warrior - 20g
Hezroth - Bloodreaver - 7g 
- Champion
Galrak - Bloodreaver - 7g
Guron - Bloodreaver - 7g
Vukos - Bloodreaver - 7g

Total: 148g

Skullcrack Eyegouger - @Thanatos Ares

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - @Nathan Hammerhand

"Ere boss, where did you get to in that last scrap" accused Balcmeg. He felt he had been far more killy than his boss in the last 2 scraps, and began to wonder if he could take on the role of Boss. 
 
"What did you say you scrawny git!" replied Muzgash angrily. 
 
"I said where'd you get to! Aye! I'm out there killing grots and squigs, and I even finished dat tricksy shaman Zogak, and all I saw you doing was running from dat big red boss. Rumour has it he's arder than you, and got a serious anger problem!! Bet he wouldn't be running from a scrap!!"
 
Muzgash grabbed Balcmeg by the neck, pulling him off his mount and into the dirt. "You listen ere and you listen good. I don't run from no one. Whatever you saw, must have been that Shamans ju ju magic or summit. Alright, now you get back in line, before I cut you open and feed you to your grunta. How'd you like that aye!" 
 
Muzgash stormed off, cursing all Shaman's and above all, cursing Morgrim. Morgrim the pretend Megaboss might cause Muzgash problems in his attempt to recruit more Boyz. He couldn't have that, not while his destiny called. That Morgrim would have to be dealt with...

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - Orruk Megaboss - 70g
Balcmeg Beast-tamer - Orruk Gore-Grunta - 60g
Ufthak the Untried - Orruk Ardboy - 18g

Snaga Shieldbearer - Orruk Ardboy - 18g

Total: 166g

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - @Nico

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - @Morglum StormBasha

Corum Half-Light - @Tkaic

Hours had passed since the sudden arrival of Castor and Pollux. The irrepressible brothers had refused all Corum’s attempts to send them away and were now ranging ahead, equally devoted to scouting for possible danger and hunting fresh meat for dinner.

Corum couldn’t shake the dark mood that filled him. He had never known anything like this in his many lives. He had always been a staunch warrior, devoted to his role in the ceaseless fight against evil. He had built a hundred fortresses and held them against overwhelming odds, countless foes turned back on numberless battlefields by his skill and daring. But then he had begun to dream and the dreams had begun to consume his whole life. When he sought counsel his comrades thought that maybe he was being called to the life of an Errant, but he had no inclination to hang up his armour and retire to a solitary cell until his quest came to him. Rather he found the familiar walls stifling, oppressive and he made ever more contrived excuses to be outside. Finally he had spoken with his brother Lords and obtained their permission to relinquish his post as Lord Castellant until he could find out what was driving him so.

He was brought back from his thoughts by the soft yip of his gryph hound. Looking through the thick trees he saw a shadowy armoured figure, scythe in hand. A warning growl from his pet confirmed his own immediate sense of danger. Halberd raised to attack he exploded into motion, doubts cast aside by the familiar adrenaline. His dreams could wait.

---------------------------------

The group were clearly some twisted version of the Stormcast Eternals. He had duelled with a pair of Liberators who could almost have passed for the real thing. So close was the resemblance that he had pulled his own attacks, using the flat of his halberd to leave them unconscious rather than splitting them apart. Now a third gleaming warrior, wearing a helmet crafted into a snarling wolf’s head blocked his path, matching his strikes blow for blow.

The sinister robed figure had fled from his wrath but now, safe behind its companion, it turned a hooded face back to the fight. Corum heard its voice raised in prayer. The words were intimately familiar to him, having heard his own Relictor intone those very phrases on countless battlefields. Behind his helm Corum’s face split into a wide grin. The poor creature was truly lost to believe that the God King would answer its prayers, let alone against one of his own chosen. He returned to the attack with renewed purpose. A sudden smell of ozone filled the air and all went black.

----------------------------------

 Corum awoke to the anxious face of Pollux looming over him. The Judicator was still carrying a brace of game birds skewered on an arrow. He had missed the entire battle while hunting.

“Lord, what happened? Castor’s taken a deep cut to the hand and your armour is badly burned.” The worry in Pollux’s voice was a stark contrast to his usual lighthearted tone.

Corum was silent for a moment before replying. “My faith is weak, brother. We came across what I took to be some Chaotic mockery of our Order, but their faith was stronger than mine. The God King himself struck me down!” His voice had risen to almost a shout and then suddenly tailed off again “Maybe I am the mockery…”

“Well. You’ve certainly taken a blow to the head, let’s have a proper look shall we?” Before Pollux could help him up, Corum smoothly rose to his feet. If anything he felt enlivened “We must continue, this only confirms what I thought. I am lost. No, worse. I am forsaken.”

Castor had joined his brother by now, identical looks of concern marring their faces. Further discussion was cut off, however, by the gryph hound exploding back into view from the undergrowth, swiftly pursued by an Orruk waving an axe.

“Come back chicken! Git needz eat!”

Leaving their leader’s existential crisis aside both Judicators drew their bows as one, releasing arrows into two more Orruks as they too burst from the forest into view. No one was eating one of their party…

Corum Half-Light - Lord Castellant - 50g
Gryph hound - 40g
Castor - Judicator - 32g
Pollux - Judicator (64) -

Total: 154 gold

Azgrog - @Rampant shovel

Zander Khanath - @Leonardas

The pain was unbearable as Zander tried to prop himself up. The furs he lay on were stiff and thick with his own dried blood. He coughed involuntarily and grimaced as bile rose into his mouth. He turned to the side and spat out the bloody phlegm. 

Zander coughed again, it was becoming harder to breathe. The air appeared to be thickening, the taste of magnesium laying thick on the Sorcerer's tongue.  Despite the constant pain he offered a faint smile, 'about time,' he mumbled to himself.

The air within the tent shimmered between the colours of the spectrum as a form began to materialise. Slowly the shadow took shape, a blue impish thing with big, bug eyed, yellow globes and a wicked smile bearing row upon row of razor white teeth. As it took material form it began to shift merrily around the limited space. 

'About time,' growled Zander again, now loud enough for the imp to hear. 

The diminutive daemon bowed, 'My apologies Master. The lines you must uncover from the great intrigue become more complex with each passing death.  It's not as if...,'

The Sorcerer waved the excuse away, 'Grazalock, enough,' he growled again. 'Our great journey has been made that much harder.'

The daemon studied the Sorcerer carefully. 'So I see my Lord.'  It took in the grievous chest wounds that Zander had taken. 'You need to rest Zander Khanath.'

'My haste has cost me dear,' reflected the injured Sorcerer. 'A certain brashness overcame me against that Khornate ragaband and I allowed that Bullgor to smite me down.'  He flinched as he remembered the decisive blow cleaving into his chest, splitting his light blue armour asunder and burying itself in his rib cage.  

'You are destined for more,' replied Grazalock. 

'It appears so,' mused Zander. Still surprised that he had actually survived that wound. 

'But heed my warning well warlock. Curb your brashness now. Your foolish stalking of the Orruk brute named Morgrim hurt our venture.'

'Silence Imp, you are mine to command, another retort like that and I will send you back to the 7th dimension of Jar'ig for 100000 moonstone cycles.'

The daemon bowed once more. 

'That Mega Boss intrigued me some what. A khornate band runs away from little but to see the fear in their eyes as they came barrelling through our lines was something to behold.'

'Drynax Doommarked was right to fear that Orruk,' replied the Blue Horror. 

'Blasphemy. It was his shaman that laid me low. A mighty duel of power that I lost due to my weakened state.'

No, thought Grazalock to himself. Tzeentch laid your powers low as you had moved away from the path, away from the light of the great intrigue.'

'Lord, I beseech you to rest. Let me call upon Enass and his Vulcharchs to find us the right path through these Hinterlands.'

Zander turned onto his side and again spat out some bloodied phlegm. 'Away, with you imp. Serve me well or Jar'ig awaits.'

Grazalock sprung out of the tent using all 4 arms and his tail to speed himself unnaturally forwards. He knew that The Watchers errand with this one could be over all too soon as their fortunes no longer rose with the unswerving certainty of the sun. The Blue Horror could no longer follow the story of this mortal's great intrigue. The passages had become blurred, the outcomes hazy. 

Zander lay on his furs, shivering in pain, but consumed by arrogance and pride. He was no longer thinking of a two headed dragon. He would not be bested on the field again by a wizard. One day Zogak would fall to his greater knowledge of the mystical arts and sometime soon the Bullgore pet that Drynax Doommarked had named Takhoar would be little more than a pelt that Xander would wear as a cloak around his neck.

Ithirys Sleepspeak - @Age of The Erstwood

Ungorek - @BeardedBaller

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Warband Stories - After Week 2 Games

Week 2 Starts 10th May 2017 - See here fore more details

Drynax Doommarked - @Bowlzee

Skullcrack Eyegouger - @Thanatos Ares

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - @Nathan Hammerhand

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - @Nico

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - @Morglum StormBasha

Corum Half-Light - @Tkaic

Azgrog - @Rampant shovel

Zander Khanath - @Leonardas

Ithirys Sleepspeak - @Age of The Erstwood

Ungorek - @BeardedBaller

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Warband Stories - After Week 3 Games

 

Drynax Doommarked - @Bowlzee

Skullcrack Eyegouger - @Thanatos Ares

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - @Nathan Hammerhand

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - @Nico

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - @Morglum StormBasha

Corum Half-Light - @Tkaic

Azgrog - @Rampant shovel

Zander Khanath - @Leonardas

Ithirys Sleepspeak - @Age of The Erstwood

Ungorek - @BeardedBaller

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Warband Stories - After Week 4 Games

 

Drynax Doommarked - @Bowlzee

Skullcrack Eyegouger - @Thanatos Ares

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - @Nathan Hammerhand

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - @Nico

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - @Morglum StormBasha

Corum Half-Light - @Tkaic

Azgrog - @Rampant shovel

Zander Khanath - @Leonardas

Ithirys Sleepspeak - @Age of The Erstwood

Ungorek - @BeardedBaller

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Warband Stories - After Week 5 Games

 

Drynax Doommarked - @Bowlzee

Skullcrack Eyegouger - @Thanatos Ares

Megaboss Muzgash the Dim - @Nathan Hammerhand

Mercenary Captain James Delaney - @Nico

Morgrim Megaboss of Unfettered Fury - @Morglum StormBasha

Corum Half-Light - @Tkaic

Azgrog - @Rampant shovel

Zander Khanath - @Leonardas

Ithirys Sleepspeak - @Age of The Erstwood

Ungorek - @BeardedBaller

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