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A tale of Kirton Gamers!


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Malbreth was absolutely fuming. How humiliating to have to go before Morathi on bended knee like some poor supplicant ending up almost begging for Scáthborn to supplement her temporarily thinned forces.

Using the leathanam as studs to breed her most successful warriors was working, but as Draichi Ganeth devotees anything that spoilt the beauty of their movements on the battlefield was to be avoided and, unfortunately, even the most skilled of her Sisters of Slaughter couldn't conceal her pregnancy.

"Prove yourself" Morathi had demanded; very well, that she would!

Leading from the front as ever, Darksword in hand atop her Cauldron of Blood she would take the sole available unit of Sisters with her and impress Morathi.

 

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A long-delayed bit of background on the marauders. The intention is for the background to be presented from the point of view of a scribe captured from Tim's (@theslowcentury) Freeguild army during our big MP rumble a month or two ago.  Actually got some painting progress to post this afternoon, too, so I'll try and get some decent photos later.

Date: ???

Journal Entry 1

After several weeks with the tribe as their prisoner, I have been released of my bonds and allowed the freedom of their camp. I no longer expect to be sacrificed to their savage gods, but their intention for me remains unclear. Whilst I still have my wits – and my life – I have resolved to study and records what I can of these people.

 

Date:???

Journal Entry 2

Ethnography and Origins

My captors have no specific term for their own tribe and seem confused by the question itself, as if they have little knowledge of other similar tribal groups. For simplicity, I have dubbed them the ‘Frost Axe Tribe’, for their use of a supernaturally-imbued form of ice in their weaponry. The Frost Axes are mostly human, although the tribe is welcoming of mutants of all kinds, with varieties familiar horned and cloven-hooved humanoids the most commonplace. The society seems typically hierarchical, but my efforts to understand the complex weave of interactions have been fruitless. At times, their equestrian class – ‘knight’ is too grand a word for these horsemen – seem to be the dominant caste, at others it is the warrior-women and at others, their primitive priesthood. There is no discernible pattern to these shifts, however. There is no consistency, as you would expect if the changes were tied to some constant like the changing seasons, nor do the shifts follow significant events.

Unchanged by the unstable hierarchies is the leadership of the tribe. Discussions with the elder members of the tribe revealed that the current Chieftess is comparatively new, a warqueen by the name of Lissandra that ascended to the position by defeating the previous Chieftan. The elders would not be pressed to divulge the nature of the contest that had ousted Lissandra’s predecessor. When asked, the elders were either wide-eyed with fear, or wore sly, mischievous grins, as if party to some amusing secret. Lissandra has led the Frost Axes out of their homelands in Ghur through a realmgate that had been buried in an ancient ruined city on the edge of their traditional dominion. Now in Shyish, the tribe has waged war alongside a larger warhost – likely the same army that decimate my compatriots – but typically travels and fights alone. The Frost Axes are eager to return home, but will not defy the will of their fearsome Chieftess.

 

Date: ???

Journal Entry 3

Religion

The Frost Axes worship a vast pantheon of gods covering every facet of their daily lives. From my studies, however, I would hypothesise that these deities are all simply different iterations of the Chaos god known to us as Tzeentch. Their war-god Kerus, for example, favours cunning over brute force; their thunder god, Zygmun takes the form of an enormous bird; the mother goddess, Choi, protects their secrets and spreads lies amongst their enemies; Irtuk, the artisan, is more bookworm than blacksmith, imbuing his creations with powerful spells. The tribe collect the skulls of their enemies in the same fashion as the bloodthirsty reavers of Aqshy. Unlike those terrifying cannibals, it is not the skull itself or the blood that is shed that is important, but the act of decapitation: the priests dismember their captives and interpret the pained writhing and thrashing for good or ill omens. Indeed, there are innumerable diviners in the Frost Axe warhost: haruspex, scryers, bone-readers and augurs. The last-named, in particular, are prized by the tribe, as birds of all kinds are considered sacred vessels of their avian gods.   

Edited by CyderPirate
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Morning all, 

Little update from me. 

Firstly my weekend hobby job to tide me over until next Month, is this little set of four nurglings. I'm using them as counters to represent (Left to Right) 'Inspiring Presence' 'Favoured Poxes' 'Blades of Purefaction' and 'Mystic Shield' They should help me keep track of what's going on!

nurglings.jpg.2cdf1a938afdfbffe9c97d7af2989a67.jpg

 

Also finally got my Feculant Gnarlmaw painted. 

5adaf4d2a80bc_fg.jpg.d926f0c2634c025718b29e3186886b63.jpg

 

Hopefully looking to get a game in later with a 500pt/PtG list. 

 

 

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  • 2 months later...

So its been awhile since anyones posted here (I think all the excitement on the new rules ) I will be starting a fresh with a new army having sold my DOK to fund the new edition. 

My new army will bee .....

20180701_132626.jpg 

Yes thats correct I have jumped on the Nighthaunt band wagon

Edited by ageofpaddsmar
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  • 11 months later...

It's back,was reading through the thread,will have to post a picture of the almost finished ironjawz.....but mentioned that was going to start building skaven(cant believe that was over a year ago)didt do them for the tale of painters as was going to focus on using the time to finish ironjawz as with birth of my son it was hard to juggle hobby and family but now it's a new campaign and the focus for this one will be the skaven(as its now all built)

Edited by LewDog
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So with the upcoming campaign, I’ve decided to role with fyreslayers. My first entry, pictures to follow:

 

Uthnir ascended the molten stairs leading to the magmaholds war-hall. His footsteps thundered with each step, embers whisping from his feet and and slowly dissolving into the air. Hulking, Broad shoulders supported his latchkey grandaxe. To any other, this axe would be too much to bare, but uthnir’s brutish mass of muscle and ur-gold runes littered accross his tanned flesh leant aid to wield such a colossal weapon. 

Strength. Pure strength. Uthnir prided himself on his prowess. A ferocious bezerker and a tactical leader, qualities that made him runefather of the mighty Vostarg lodge.

As he reached the plateau of the molten staircase, a runesmiter and battlesmith awaited him. They both gave a low bow to their runefather. Uthnir returned the bow, and approached the edge of the plateau. Below the shelf of molten rock and lava he stood on, scores of vulkite bezerkers stood proud and in rank. The bezerkers started to clank their war pickts against their slingshields, the metallic sound increasing  until finally the vulkites let out their guttural roars in an enormous crescendo.  

Uthnir’s eyes flashed a fiery yellow and red, setting a soft glow of fire on the rim of his golden magma-helm. 

“The Vostargi await you my chief”, the runesmiter said, approaching Uthnir and setting his ember staff on the molten stone. 

Uthnir turned to regard Torghal, his second in command and a highly revered priest. Uthnir shot torghal a wink, embers spurting out of the collision of eyelashes. Uthnir turned back to overlook his Vostargi.

He hoisted the grandaxe off of his shoulders and thrust it forward, the war-hall instantaneously falling silent. Lava dripping from cracks in the molten rock and splatting on the stone floor was the only sound present.

Uthnir held his greataxe out to his side. His trusted battlesmith, Holfga stepped forward and took the colossal weapon, taking a step back, resting the pommel of the greataxe on the floor and the main body against his hulking chest. 

“My Vostargi!”, bellowed Uthnir, his brutish arms now outstretched over the bezerkers down below.

“My ferocious warriors and brothers!”. The vulkites responded with another clank of pick against shield.

“What a fine sight I see before me. Grimnir himself would be proud to witness such a gathering of such fine Vostargi.” 

Uthnir dropped his hands down. He paced the shelf, gently stroking his fiery, ember coloured beard. 

“However, pride alone is not enough. For too long have we sat idle. Fighting wars on others behalf. Working for others to gain ur-gold as payment.”

The vulkites below nodded in agreement. 

“Ur-gold that is rightfully ours in the first place!” 

Uthnir slapped his rune on his shoulder and the rune ignited into a blaze. Sparks and embers arced in all directions then cooled to a soft glow. 

The vulkites below went into a frenzy at the spectacle, proud to have the same runes hammered into their flesh. The true power of a fyreslayer and a gift of their fallen god, Grimnir. 

“I have gathered the elders, deliberated for many hours and I bring you a gift.”

The hall fell silent once more. 

Uthnir knelt down over the shelf’s edge, his peering gaze striking into the eyes of every vulkite below. “A gift of war, a gift of conquest and the reclamation of ur-gold owed to us by every living being in the mortal realms!”  

The vulkites looked at each other at first, then looked back at Uthnir. What followed was the tremendous sound of scores of vulkites screaming and cheering in a massed frenzy. Swinging their picks and thrusting their shields in approval.

Over the cheering vulkites, Uthnir stood up. Holfga approached and placed the greataxe back in his hand. The runefather hoisted his greataxe in the air, the vulkites now cheering and screaming beyond sanity.

“For lodge Vostarg, for glory, but most importantly for the honour of GRIMNIR!” 

The war hall erupted once more, Vostargi and Runefather alike. 

Lava started to erupt. The walls started to crack and rumble. The great hall was alive once more.

War had finally come to the mighty Vostarg.

 

Edited by Dracothjay
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