The Golden Abacus - #Pir8Realms

[Twisted Firaun]

@S133arcanite no problem man! I remembered you from the ironweld project @Melcavuk did a couple weeks back and you had some great ideas then. I've found the big three of the night haunt to be great conversion material(my archregent for my FEC is made from Kurdross).

[Melcavuk]

2 hours ago, TheR00zle said:

@S133arcanite no problem man! I remembered you from the ironweld project @Melcavuk did a couple weeks back and you had some great ideas then. I've found the big three of the night haunt to be great conversion material(my archregent for my FEC is made from Kurdross).

Ironweld Still on going and in stage two playtesting, not a few weeks back

 

some fantastic work coming through here, if I wasn’t three projects deep into events I’d of loved to join in. 

[Twisted Firaun]

2 hours ago, Melcavuk said:

Ironweld Still on going and in stage two playtesting, not a few weeks back

 

some fantastic work coming through here, if I wasn’t three projects deep into events I’d of loved to join in. 

Apologies good sir, I was referring to your actual models and lore, rules are a whole different ball game.

[Nacnudllah]

Got this map from a wizened duardin, claimed to have been born before chaos took the realms, not that I'd believe an old pirate.  Anyhow, a story come with it, one that was too good to be true, but it might just be.

'E said that when 'e was but a beardling twas a kingdom in the realm of metal, and the shining jewel of it was the mountain hold of Karak Gorlm.  The whole kingdom stowed their treasures away in vaults tunneled deep into the mountain.  And so it went for hundreds of years until Sigmar's pantheon disbanded and so on and chaos fell upon the land.  'E wasn't sure what caused it, but the whole kingdom fell into the sea, leaving behind only mountaintops as a chain of islands.  The duardin who lived there built mighty endrinships and fled to the sky, while their human neighbors were left to die.  The story of the treasure of Karak Gorlm fell into myth, and was eventually written off as a children's tale.

Of course, he had a map that he was willing to part with for only three gold crowns and a tankard of ale.  And if that ain't a bargain, my name's not Smitty Cystongue.

Also, I stumbled upon my old chum Ulgar who says e's up for makin' the voyage.  We used to sail together back in the day and e's as fine a gunner as e'er sailed the mortal seas.  Now if i can just find me old Cap'n, we can put the old crew back together for one last adventure.

[Twisted Firaun]

11 minutes ago, Nacnudllah said:

Got this map from a wizened duardin, claimed to have been born before chaos took the realms, not that I'd believe an old pirate.  Anyhow, a story come with it, one that was too good to be true, but it might just be.

'E said that when 'e was but a beardling twas a kingdom in the realm of metal, and the shining jewel of it was the mountain hold of Karak Gorlm.  The whole kingdom stowed their treasures away in vaults tunneled deep into the mountain.  And so it went for hundreds of years until Sigmar's pantheon disbanded and so on and chaos fell upon the land.  'E wasn't sure what caused it, but the whole kingdom fell into the sea, leaving behind only mountaintops as a chain of islands.  The duardin who lived there built mighty endrinships and fled to the sky, while their human neighbors were left to die.  The story of the treasure of Karak Gorlm fell into myth, and was eventually written off as a children's tale.

Of course, he had a map that he was willing to part with for only three gold crowns and a tankard of ale.  And if that ain't a bargain, my name's not Smitty Cystongue.

Also, I stumbled upon my old chum Ulgar who says e's up for makin' the voyage.  We used to sail together back in the day and e's as fine a gunner as e'er sailed the mortal seas.  Now if i can just find me old Cap'n, we can put the old crew back together for one last adventure.

Well damn, if dat ain’t a tantalizing prize, I’d be joinin you plague boys(even though you Gitz don’t know how to brew some good shrooms) if three fings didn’t stand in me way.

1. Da Salty Squig is skuttled worse den dat time boingobba tried to jump da Bad Moon on a regular cave sguig.

2. I don’t trust stunties.

3. We don’t ave da boss’s(Crulg) say so, now I’m all for stabbin a man in da back, but not when he’s bout four times my size.

[Melcavuk]

"Pirates?" The derision in her voice audible, perhaps deliberately so that the sneer behind her mask might atleast be conveyed without removing it.

"Privateers my dear, a pirate is a toothless thug with nerry a rag to cover groin nor rear, bathed in the filth of the sky and dirt yet truly belonging to neither. A rum soaked buffoon that uses cutless to pick rat from tooth and barters wealth for the companionship without every truly appreciating how pathetic their existance truly is."

As the Baronness talks the amusement in her voice seems to gift it a nearly songlike quality, educated words wielded like daggers in a vocal assault on all that might hear her. Idlying toying with her clockwork revolver as though admiring a masterpiece, deftly rolling artisan rounds across the back of her fingertips as her piercing gaze surveyed the room.

"We" she starts as she opens the revolvers chamber, flicking rounds in one by one as her every word is left to linger in the air for haunting seconds. "are Nobility!"

"We, are Free"

"Now..." snapping the chamber shut she casually waves the revolver toward the gathered crowds "For the pirates amongst you, would you like me to speak slower and with smaller words?"

Might be a while till I can work on the models having a doubles tournament still needing another mammoth built but I've been musing on lore and concepts in a spare few minutes here and there. Combining my love for the Ironweld with the concept of piracy within the Realms here's the fledgling idea I have come up with:

THE MYRIADIAN SKYBARONS
Throughout the Realms no one material holds true to its value, those precious metals bartered for in Ghyran are found in all too ready abundance in the vallys of Chamon, the gems of Hyish and Aqshy are found in glistening fields yet are scarce and prized in Shyish. So then it is down to the savvy, the conniving and the mercantile to find that which holds most value wherever they might find themselves. In the broken valleys of the Great Parch it is water, the glistening, refreshing lifes blood of every living creature that is precious beyond measure. Those travellers seeking to cross the broken sands must bear enough that the stark lack of fresh or drinkable waters might not become issue, yet to contend with the elements alone is not challenge enough. Bandits prey upon passing caravans or mercenary armies, perhaps none more so than the Skybarons of Myriadia, descending from on high hailed by the thunderous rapture of their Ironclads cannonade they seek not slaughter or riches, instead as the chaos of battle blinds those below them the deckhands act with ruthless effficiency, dropping their great hooks from the vessel to snare the water supplies of those below and bear it skywards. 

Though to claim leaving their victims alive a mercy would be little solace to those left to blindly stagger in the burning sands, few would last a mere handful of hours without water, far from safe harbour and lost beyond measure, instead they face the near certain fate of joining the hundreds of skulls already buried just out of sight amongst the shifting sand beneath their feets.

THE VESSEL
The Myridian Oasis, and Ironclad class vessel born of the Kavuk Era to the Kharadon Overlords, favoured for its oversized Aethergold tanks the Kavuk were oft favoured by the more cautious of captains able to provide ample fuel to cross vast distances however their increased size often made them targets for privateers and rival fleets. In more recent years the Kavuk has been decommissioned in favour of it more mobile counterparts, with those few still in existance having made their way into the hands of collectors, merchants and privateers across the Realms, those who favour long journeys with few safe ports of harbour. 

The Oasis herself was said to be assigned to the evacuation of the fallen Weld City of Myridia when calamity claimed her mighty factories and bore them into the mercurial seas of Chamon. As natural distaster ravaged the city the Oasis was dispatched to save as many of the populace as she could bear before the city was lost to the ravages of time, however such would tragically not come to pass. Instead, seeing their birthright slip away from them, the young nobility of the Household forewent any concept of a noble death, usurping the order of evacuation to instead seize the Oasis by force. 

Butchering a bloody swathe through civilian and crewman alike the last of the Myridian Household lost all right to claim nobility, instead as the Oasis bore forth leaving any witnesses to their betrayal to fall into the ever shifting seas below instead they took upon themselves the title of Skybarons, robbed of their kingdoms by calamity the Sky itself would become their new lands.

Since its capture the Oasis has been refitted, its auxiliary Aethergold tanks have been retrofitted to hold vast water supplies, more than her crew could ever truly need that they might barter it for wealth and armament.

THE BARONNESS
Heir Aspirant to ruin, Lady of Nothing, Queen of the Broken Road. The Baronness was trained from birth to lead, taught to favour Wealth and prestige above all else, her every fibre imbued with the desire to be respected and feared by a populace that by the coming of age was lost to nought. It was she that began the mutiny against their would be saviours, seeing that which distinguished her as above all others slipping away with a future as little more than a rag adorned refugee like a vice seizing around her throat threatening to choke every last noble breath from her ever withering form simply became too much. Seizing upon the chaos the Baronness and her elite cadre of Royal Guard looted that which they could carry from the royal armoury, in their ranks minor nobility who had sensed the changes in the winds of fate and those servants who could see opportunity in the betrayal. 

Since taking command of the Oasis she has a fierce reputation for pragmatism beyond Morality, she knows all too well the value of every life aboard and would never hesitate to trade one for something of more value. She is the living embodiment of flaws all too common within the Weld, a cold and calculating figure of heartless beauty, her blood runs like ice through her veins as she relishes all too readily in the havoc of warfare.

[StoneMonk]

On 4/18/2019 at 10:20 AM, S133arcanite said:

haven't got any pictures so far, but I've got a nighthaunt army that do, on occasion, sail the eight seas:

 "In Ulgu, I've heard tell of an island hundreds of miles wide and long, inhabited by the forsaken' souls of an entire empire o' mortals. Every inch of it is unhallowed ground, and the dead do not rest easy there. It is surrounded by mountains an' cliffs so high that the sun never rises, and huge fortress-cemetaries are found at every turn. They call it: Tenebrus.

It is said that a god lives there, who gave his name to the isles, powerful enough to challenge even Nagash, should he ever awaken from his deific slumber. This god holds sway over the ghosties that live upon that acursed rock, and he commands night and shadow. I believe that this 'Tenebrus' could hold great potency o'er the entire realm of Ulgu, should only a few of us pirates set foot 'ere. If all o' us anchored there, well...

We would have to fight off the ghosties firs', though..."

Crulg: Welcome Shroudlord, Many of our kind may be a bit superstitious about facin' the dead...maybe it's our nature to ignore even the idea of dyin'. There may be some sense in facein' it head on. Thank you for the contribution of Tenebrus to our list of prospective destinations.

[StoneMonk]

23 hours ago, Melcavuk said:

some fantastic work coming through here, if I wasn’t three projects deep into events I’d of loved to join in. 

Hey Man! Love your lore up above. If that's the limit of what you can contribute here, it's plenty. (But maybe you just do one pirate warband and loan them out to one of the crews?)

[StoneMonk]

15 hours ago, Nacnudllah said:

Got this map from a wizened duardin, claimed to have been born before chaos took the realms, not that I'd believe an old pirate.  Anyhow, a story come with it, one that was too good to be true, but it might just be.

Crulg: This is quite the tale, an if'n I wasn't tryin' to earn some trus' at the moment, i'da memorized that image and been off by now. But if what you're source be tellin ya is true, a treasure like this could be a great pot to fund this expedition and, from the sounds of it, stock us for whatever war awaits us when we reach da promise land.

15 hours ago, TheR00zle said:

3. We don’t ave da boss’s(Crulg) say so, now I’m all for stabbin a man in da back, but not when he’s bout four times my size.

Crulg: I appreciate that you sense the stature of my leadership. However, unless you's enlistin' on my crew, I ain't noone's boss. Men and women of our ilk often require a leader to 'elp dem reach their full potential...but my crew'd overthrow me first whiff that i wasn't keepin der best interest at heart. Maybe someday we need sombody to bureaucrat this coalition we be startin'...but i personally think that'd be the worst way to die. Thank ya all the same.

[StoneMonk]

8 hours ago, Melcavuk said:

"Pirates?" The derision in her voice audible, perhaps deliberately so that the sneer behind her mask might atleast be conveyed without removing it.

"Privateers my dear, a pirate is a toothless thug with nerry a rag to cover groin nor rear, bathed in the filth of the sky and dirt yet truly belonging to neither. A rum soaked buffoon that uses cutless to pick rat from tooth and barters wealth for the companionship without every truly appreciating how pathetic their existance truly is."

As the Baronness talks the amusement in her voice seems to gift it a nearly songlike quality, educated words wielded like daggers in a vocal assault on all that might hear her. Idlying toying with her clockwork revolver as though admiring a masterpiece, deftly rolling artisan rounds across the back of her fingertips as her piercing gaze surveyed the room.

"We" she starts as she opens the revolvers chamber, flicking rounds in one by one as her every word is left to linger in the air for haunting seconds. "are Nobility!"

"We, are Free"

"Now..." snapping the chamber shut she casually waves the revolver toward the gathered crowds "For the pirates amongst you, would you like me to speak slower and with smaller words?"

Crulg: Greetings Baronness *picking a piece of rat from between his sparse teeth with his longknife* I can appreciate you're nobility. The call to be truly free is heeded by all kinds - and i imagine that I'll come to judge your crew by more than the aether blowin' out of yer stacks. 

[Twisted Firaun]

54 minutes ago, StoneMonk said:

Crulg: This is quite the tale, an if'n I wasn't tryin' to earn some trus' at the moment, i'da memorized that image and been off by now. But if what you're source be tellin ya is true, a treasure like this could be a great pot to fund this expedition and, from the sounds of it, stock us for whatever war awaits us when we reach da promise land.

Crulg: I appreciate that you sense the stature of my leadership. However, unless you's enlistin' on my crew, I ain't noone's boss. Men and women of our ilk often require a leader to 'elp dem reach their full potential...but my crew'd overthrow me first whiff that i wasn't keepin der best interest at heart. Maybe someday we need sombody to bureaucrat this coalition we be startin'...but i personally think that'd be the worst way to die. Thank ya all the same.

Understandable Crulg, but seeing ‘ow dis was your idea I figured you would like the respect(a wise grot once said, “it doesn’t hurt to kiss da moon.”), and I agree dat the shiny beach soundz like a good place to loot, if for nuffin else den a good skrap!

[Twisted Firaun]

9 hours ago, Melcavuk said:

"Pirates?" The derision in her voice audible, perhaps deliberately so that the sneer behind her mask might atleast be conveyed without removing it.

"Privateers my dear, a pirate is a toothless thug with nerry a rag to cover groin nor rear, bathed in the filth of the sky and dirt yet truly belonging to neither. A rum soaked buffoon that uses cutless to pick rat from tooth and barters wealth for the companionship without every truly appreciating how pathetic their existance truly is."

As the Baronness talks the amusement in her voice seems to gift it a nearly songlike quality, educated words wielded like daggers in a vocal assault on all that might hear her. Idlying toying with her clockwork revolver as though admiring a masterpiece, deftly rolling artisan rounds across the back of her fingertips as her piercing gaze surveyed the room.

"We" she starts as she opens the revolvers chamber, flicking rounds in one by one as her every word is left to linger in the air for haunting seconds. "are Nobility!"

"We, are Free"

"Now..." snapping the chamber shut she casually waves the revolver toward the gathered crowds "For the pirates amongst you, would you like me to speak slower and with smaller words?"

Might be a while till I can work on the models having a doubles tournament still needing another mammoth built but I've been musing on lore and concepts in a spare few minutes here and there. Combining my love for the Ironweld with the concept of piracy within the Realms here's the fledgling idea I have come up with:

THE MYRIADIAN SKYBARONS
Throughout the Realms no one material holds true to its value, those precious metals bartered for in Ghyran are found in all too ready abundance in the vallys of Chamon, the gems of Hyish and Aqshy are found in glistening fields yet are scarce and prized in Shyish. So then it is down to the savvy, the conniving and the mercantile to find that which holds most value wherever they might find themselves. In the broken valleys of the Great Parch it is water, the glistening, refreshing lifes blood of every living creature that is precious beyond measure. Those travellers seeking to cross the broken sands must bear enough that the stark lack of fresh or drinkable waters might not become issue, yet to contend with the elements alone is not challenge enough. Bandits prey upon passing caravans or mercenary armies, perhaps none more so than the Skybarons of Myriadia, descending from on high hailed by the thunderous rapture of their Ironclads cannonade they seek not slaughter or riches, instead as the chaos of battle blinds those below them the deckhands act with ruthless effficiency, dropping their great hooks from the vessel to snare the water supplies of those below and bear it skywards. 

Though to claim leaving their victims alive a mercy would be little solace to those left to blindly stagger in the burning sands, few would last a mere handful of hours without water, far from safe harbour and lost beyond measure, instead they face the near certain fate of joining the hundreds of skulls already buried just out of sight amongst the shifting sand beneath their feets.

THE VESSEL
The Myridian Oasis, and Ironclad class vessel born of the Kavuk Era to the Kharadon Overlords, favoured for its oversized Aethergold tanks the Kavuk were oft favoured by the more cautious of captains able to provide ample fuel to cross vast distances however their increased size often made them targets for privateers and rival fleets. In more recent years the Kavuk has been decommissioned in favour of it more mobile counterparts, with those few still in existance having made their way into the hands of collectors, merchants and privateers across the Realms, those who favour long journeys with few safe ports of harbour. 

The Oasis herself was said to be assigned to the evacuation of the fallen Weld City of Myridia when calamity claimed her mighty factories and bore them into the mercurial seas of Chamon. As natural distaster ravaged the city the Oasis was dispatched to save as many of the populace as she could bear before the city was lost to the ravages of time, however such would tragically not come to pass. Instead, seeing their birthright slip away from them, the young nobility of the Household forewent any concept of a noble death, usurping the order of evacuation to instead seize the Oasis by force. 

Butchering a bloody swathe through civilian and crewman alike the last of the Myridian Household lost all right to claim nobility, instead as the Oasis bore forth leaving any witnesses to their betrayal to fall into the ever shifting seas below instead they took upon themselves the title of Skybarons, robbed of their kingdoms by calamity the Sky itself would become their new lands.

Since its capture the Oasis has been refitted, its auxiliary Aethergold tanks have been retrofitted to hold vast water supplies, more than her crew could ever truly need that they might barter it for wealth and armament.

THE BARONNESS
Heir Aspirant to ruin, Lady of Nothing, Queen of the Broken Road. The Baronness was trained from birth to lead, taught to favour Wealth and prestige above all else, her every fibre imbued with the desire to be respected and feared by a populace that by the coming of age was lost to nought. It was she that began the mutiny against their would be saviours, seeing that which distinguished her as above all others slipping away with a future as little more than a rag adorned refugee like a vice seizing around her throat threatening to choke every last noble breath from her ever withering form simply became too much. Seizing upon the chaos the Baronness and her elite cadre of Royal Guard looted that which they could carry from the royal armoury, in their ranks minor nobility who had sensed the changes in the winds of fate and those servants who could see opportunity in the betrayal. 

Since taking command of the Oasis she has a fierce reputation for pragmatism beyond Morality, she knows all too well the value of every life aboard and would never hesitate to trade one for something of more value. She is the living embodiment of flaws all too common within the Weld, a cold and calculating figure of heartless beauty, her blood runs like ice through her veins as she relishes all too readily in the havoc of warfare.

Well well well..... looks like we got one of factory oomies amongst us, I’d be careful of who yer callin “uncivilized”(saying this while rolling around in the dirt lookin for shrooms), as it looks ta me dat my boys outnumber yours by a couple.....ER....... thousands!

[Twisted Firaun]

I’se got good news and bad news boyz, da good news is we can cross off a name from da list of places to set up a port lair; the bad news is da storm boyz r on ta us. I was out wit my grotficers placin’ bets on which of dese two group of bounders would win a race when suddenly a whole bunch of lightning comes down!

 

my boyz and I immediately turn ta face em, but the squigs were tired from da race and were hit wif so much Dakka dat Dey wouldn’t even grow new squigs afterwards! Da only good fing from dis is dat da fight woke up a dankhold troggoth(I call im Barnacules) and managed to escape wif me pieces intact.

But it looks like Tripple Stabba’s days of being free are numbered.....

Edited April 20, 2019 by TheR00zle
Fixing autocorrect

[Melcavuk]

“Quite…” the Baroness murmured though to whom it was entirely unclear, though such a simple word it seemingly bore heavy with her realization that the world of finery she had sought was never further from her reality. No hint of amusement or even agreement in her tone as eye gaze shifted beneath veiled mask, a piercing gaze filtered at least by the tinted lenses that shielded her from truly witnessing that which occurred before her. Instead her view was something quite different entirely, the prisms within the mask ever shifting and rotating, her gaze lingering moments behind those she beheld as though watching phantasms of time long since passed. Whatever it was that she beheld however seemed to hold little but annoyance for the seemingly endlessly irritable captain. Allowing a mere exasperated sigh to escape her lips as she extended a hand forth, for a moment perhaps seemingly to offer it by way of greeting to those before her, though such courtesies’ were for those of finer breeding that she now bore as company. Lowering her hand deftly to tap softly against the table three times with a beautifully crafted metallic nail.

From behind the Baroness a form stirred, previously indistinguishable from the shadowed populace that seemingly drifted to and from every misbegotten tavern beyond the edge of the maps save for the serpentine hiss air escaping the litany of valves lining his ancient Cogwork armour. Striding forth at his Mistress’s beckon the very timbers beneath his feet groaned in discontent at the sheer weight of the beaten cogplate, its every gear and piston seemingly offering a grinding agony in rebuke as to which was struggling more. As the cartographer drifted into view any thoughts of soft factory folk were almost certainly to be dispelled, though standing no taller than the other men present his demeanour seemingly cast a shadow far longer, as the flickering lights graced his skin they unveiled a scarred history that would have felled mortal men of lesser resolve. The deep boring marks of the plague locust dug paths across aged and wrinkled skin, scars and burns from crude medicines no doubt applied to rout the plague has perhaps done further damage to his appearance than the plague itself. Every so often the valves around the neckpiece of his cuirass hissed and cast a noxiously sweet scent into the air, the lingering trace of Aqshy fyreroot permeating the room amidst less savour able odours, the narcotic gas seemingly soothing and dulling the senses of the Cartographer though what effort that had on the agony that his complexion no doubt wrought was hard to tell. At the seeming smear of the notion of Factory humans the vaguest irritation seemingly pierced his veiled mind for the briefest of moment, levelling his one good eye at the Grot with a stare that could sink a thousand ships.

“We…” the Baroness continues as her Cartographer takes up stance over her shoulder. “Were at Ilysia when the clouds broke.” Could that perhaps be sorrow that lingered in her voice, shame even as her eyes never once glance upon the face of her oldest companion despite her beckon. “When the swarm came, and all that was became… all that had once been. We did not escape… unharmed” the briefest of glances sidelong to her companion seemingly hardened her tone, no such weakness as sorrow to be found in her tone and longer. “Or without just reward”

At the slighted of nods from the Baroness her Cartographer drops his heavy burden upon the stained tabletop, the strange metallic plates catching the candlelight to illuminate runes that seemingly align with no spoken language in the modern realms, seemingly familiar and yet altogether uninterpretable. The Baroness allowed the slighted moment for her prize to be admired before she spoke again.

“The Ilysian Puzzle box… beautiful to be sure, but they say she holds the key… yet none know the door.”

[Nacnudllah]

I found this fossil buried in a cask of ale drinkin’ away his woes.  Just another cursed soul ready ta set sail on the Flying Tallyman.

[Twisted Firaun]

1 hour ago, Nacnudllah said:

I found this fossil buried in a cask of ale drinkin’ away his woes.  Just another cursed soul ready ta set sail on the Flying Tallyman.

Nice! Is that long front or one of his crew? Either way what are you going to name him?

[Nacnudllah]

41 minutes ago, TheR00zle said:

Nice! Is that long front or one of his crew? Either way what are you going to name him?

Just a crewman, I don't have Long Drong 'imself.  This poxy seadog goes by the name o' Drüg Rustbilge.  The next former crewman we need to hunt down is Captain Grog'sothoth.  When we were cursed in that Nurgle temple, 'e went missin', ripped into the realm' o the dark gods.  I heard 'e's been spotted though, lurkin' about in Trollrock Estuary.  I'll report back when I know more.

Edited April 20, 2019 by Nacnudllah

[Twisted Firaun]

Zagrukk was sleeping in his hammock aboard Da Salty Squig, dreaming of all the riches he would soon had when he heard the alarm squig squawking at full volume! "What da zog is going on!" he yelled quickly donning his armor and grabbing the leash of his two squigs Gnagga and Mauler, he quickly made his way to the deck of his ship. Grots scrambled to grab their weapons and armor as chaos(the normal kind) took hold of everybody. "Kaptin!" a voiced cried out and Zagrukk turned to see his Firs Loon Snuffnak and his elite gitz Da Squiga Diverz marching up the stairs to the upper levels "Snuffnak who da hell rang da Squig?" zagrukk barked "one of da shootas Kaptin, 'e said dat dere's a whole bunch of skellies marching towards da cove!"

The color left Zagrukk's face at the mention of skeletons, fortunately his helmet was closed so no one saw it. "Send somebody to wake up Barnacules!" he ordered "and get the magic boys up on da deck, and find our gobbapalooza too!" without waiting to here if his orders were understood Zagrukk pushed past the armored grot and onto the deck. The shot wasn't exaggerating, there was at least a hundred Skeletons marching towards them, plus three catapults with burning ammunition ready to fire. At the front of the army was a heavily armored skeleton with a burning helmet and a very wicked looking spear, a female oomie decked out in furs, scrolls, and trinkets, and another skeleton holding a large banner in one hand, while the other reached for the pommel of it's weapon. the first skeleton took a step forward, then spoke "Are you "Zagrukk Da Shroomshark"," it spoke the name like it left a bad taste in it's mouth(which Zagrukk was impressed with). Zagrukk nodded "Who wants ta know?" The skeleton somehow seemed relieved by this "I am Rotmam the Devoted, Barrow Prince and loyal vassal of the Necropolis city of Kendri, I have heard of you and the coalition of seafarers you are a part of, and wish to join." The only thing that Zagrukk could think at the moment was "WHAT DA ZOG?!"

[Twisted Firaun]

Greetings captains of the unruly seas

As you have probably already heard from the diminutive green fungus eating thief("Hey!") I am Rotmam the Devoted, vassal of Kendri. I will be honest with you, normally my duties would have me attempt to drive you off from these waters, but.... things have changed at home. My tribe has lived alongside the ruling dynasty of Kendri since the beginning of the age of Chaos, and we have prospered under the rule of the high king and queen. Recently though, the high king, Khafoh The Benevolent, has been usurped by a wretched vampire named Isaak Jahn and his foul thralls. He has scattered the king's bones throughout the realms in chests of Nullstone, hiding his presence from the mortuary cult, and has forced our queen, Banti the treasure, to be his consort. I have been tasked to sail the seas in search of the cursed chests, and return for access to your various maps I have been granted permission to offer whatever payment you deem fair.

May Ptra smile upon us all.

Edited April 23, 2019 by TheR00zle
note

[Twisted Firaun]

Hey guys, so I wasn't sure if I was breaking any rules by posting a second army(is it ok @StoneMonk?), but I was just struck by it a couple nights ago and had finally found a use for my Tomb Kings(favorite army that was squatted), hope this is ok.

[Nacnudllah]

Smitty Cystongue twisted and turned and cried out in his sleep.  His dreams were haunted by visions of something horrible lurking at the edges of reality, clawing at his sanity.  It bore likeness to his old Captain Grog, but he knew it was something new.  It called itself the dread pirate Captain Grog-Sothoth.  Returned from the realm of the dark gods of chaos, it called to Smitty.  He awoke feverish and sweating, his boils pulsing and irritated, with one last lingering image burned into his mind.

Grog-Sothoth is coming.

[Twisted Firaun]

On 4/24/2019 at 8:38 AM, Nacnudllah said:

Smitty Cystongue twisted and turned and cried out in his sleep.  His dreams were haunted by visions of something horrible lurking at the edges of reality, clawing at his sanity.  It bore likeness to his old Captain Grog, but he knew it was something new.  It called itself the dread pirate Captain Grog-Sothoth.  Returned from the realm of the dark gods of chaos, it called to Smitty.  He awoke feverish and sweating, his boils pulsing and irritated, with one last lingering image burned into his mind.

Grog-Sothoth is coming.

Rotmam: 

Greetings warrior of the Diseased One, while my tribe was forced from our lands by the dark gods, I am willing to work with you in order to save my King. I have heard of your predicament from Zagrukk and I am somewhat happy for you to soon be united with your captain. May your sails be full and the seas kind.

Zagrukk

Wow, dat is one ugly oomie, good for you dat your boss is comin back, maybe we'll be able to raid da shiny beach soon enough, it'll be good to establiz a new cove somewhere, besides my boys are hungry for somefing shiny.

[Twisted Firaun]

Hey guys I have a general question, how big is your crew(s)?

[Nacnudllah]

On 4/26/2019 at 1:50 PM, TheR00zle said:

Hey guys I have a general question, how big is your crew(s)?

My crew will probably consist of Captain Grog-Sothoth, First Mate Smitty Cysttongue, Rustbilge, Ulgur, and maybe 2 or 3 other piratey conversions as inspiration strikes.  I'll be combining it in play with other nurgley skirmish models I've made though.

[Twisted Firaun]

6 minutes ago, Nacnudllah said:

My crew will probably consist of Captain Grog-Sothoth, First Mate Smitty Cysttongue, Rustbilge, Ulgur, and maybe 2 or 3 other piratey conversions as inspiration strikes.  I'll be combining it in play with other nurgley skirmish models I've made though.

Nice, for Zagrukk's crew I'm just about done, I'm just going to add a web spinner shaman and a spider. Then it's all about filling the army to 2000-2500 points. 

 

Rotmam's crew is done, I just need to add in Banti and my necropolis is done. Until then it's building and painting time.

 

what about you @StoneMonk? How big is Crülg's crew going to be?