Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Mawfette for a tribe, The Best Elves
My army is based on a silly, terrible, little youtube story series, that I do on my channel.
Mawfette, a wandering firebelly, made a long journey into Ghyran, the realm of life. There in a hidden valley she encountered an odd tribe of greenskins. Oddly enough the leading caste seemed to be Moon Clan grots.
The leader being a shaman, calling himself "The Highest Elf".
For some unknown reason the "Best Elves", upon seeing Mawfette, decided to instantly make her their "Elven Queen".Being without a tribe this was, even though very weird, an opportunity Mawfette couldn't pass up.
Since that day she is the leader of this weird horde of greenskins. She made them wear her skull warpaint, as a sign of loyalty.
Interestingly enough the orruks in the clan don't believe themselves to be "elves", but still play along with the weird pretend game of the grots. Or do the grots really believe to be elves? The "best" elves even. They don't even dress like elves!
To this day Mawfette was unable to get behind this odd mystery.
Either they are all completely out of their mind, or there is some weird magic at work. Pointing to the latter is the almost silly music, which fills the air, whenever one of the grots open their mouths to speak.
The greenskins also seem to be obsessed with herding pigs. They in fact almost worship them, cause they believe that they have to honour the "great pig of the realms of life".
Whatever that is about...
Mawfette, the "Elven Queen" - Firebelly The Highest Elf - Moon Clan Grot Warboss with moon-prodder and giant squig The High Elf - Moon Clan Grot Shaman Billy - Orruk Shaman Nate - Savage Orruk Shaman Bloom - Grot Shaman Needs Name - Orruk Shaman Needs Name - Orruk Warboss with boss chopps and shield Needs Name - Ogor Hunter Units:
The Eternal Guard - 13x Moon Clan Grots with stabbas, grot banner, gong basher The Elves - 30x Moon Clan Grots with pokin' spears, moon shields, grot banner, gong basher, netter The Waywatchers - 20x Moon Clan Grots with moonclan bows The Wardancers - 4x Fanatics The Shadowblades - 5x Sneaky Skulkers The Piggy Boys - 26x Orruks with two choppas and orruk banner The Porkinators - 5x Orruk Ardboys with orruk banner and war drummer The Baconators - 5x Orruk Ardboys with orruk banner and war drummer Needs name - 4x Cave Squigs Needs name - 3x Cave Squig Herders Dem Trolls: 6x Sourbreath Troggoths Monsters:
Jeff - Chimera
Dat Giant - Aleguzzer Gargant
Needs Name - Grot Scraplauncher Chariots:
The Piggy Wagon - Orruk Boar Chariot
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Davespaceman for a tribe, Blue Sun
Ive started a fluff story about my tyrants' life. Here's the first draft of the first part let me know what you think.
I was born in a small tribe, high in the mountains raised solely by my mother. As for my father ‘Cobb’ he left when I was young. He went back travelling the world as a mercenary. He didn't leave much to ma and me. Just an old club and an empty bottle of booze. Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me Jayne
Ma raised me the best she could but with a name like Jayne I had to grow up quick and I grew up mean. Being an only child I got well fed and I grew big in the early years of my life I got in to lots of fights and became quite adept at armed and unarmed combat. Every time a newcomer to our tribe arrived they’d pick on me due to my name. Their mistake. By the time I was a young bull I’d killed/eaten more than some bruisers.
One day a maneater (Gol Headtwister) came to our tribe and told me stories of the various lands that lay beyond our mountain. These tales along with the ones I remember my father telling me when I was young inspired me to go out in to the world myself. So I accompanied the maneater on his next trip to the lands of men.
As we travelled we joined with a small group of merchants who paid us to protect them on the way to their home some where in the west called the ‘empire’. Along the way I saw many different races and creatures we killed and ate a few not as many as we’d have liked but the merchants were in a rush and their pay was good and we could always come back.
We arrived in the empire in a large town we took our money from the merchants and we went for a drink few places would serve and I wondered if it was the way I dressed Gol seemed to dress similar to these manlings so I thought I’d try.
We found a tailor who measured me up and did a nice job so good I still wear the same clothes today with one or two patch jobs. We paid the manling and went to a bar we sat outside as it was built for these little bearded lings that weren’t too friendly but liked a drink and liked our gold. I later found out these were dwarfs or Dawi as they referred to themselves.
We spent a long time in that bar whilst Gol got us some work. From a rich manling land owner who was having trouble with beastmen two different tribes had been living on his land and causing trouble the money was good and it wasn’t far.
The landowner had recruited a number of lings to assist in freeing his lands mainly manlings and a few ogres. We decided to take on the smaller beastmen as a warm up they didn’t seem to have many tents or living quarters they just seemed to congregate round a cave. This cave was off-limits to the landowners’ people as it was said to have an eerie presence we could see this at night there was a greenish glow. Our plan was to charge in and smash the leader who was a hooded grey looking one then just mop up the rest.
We underestimated their numbers.
As we charged through the encampment there was screeching and scurrying everywhere we slew thirty or more and they retreated in to the cave we followed them in and were hit by a wave of bodies biting scratching and stabbing at us I saw one ogre get enveloped by them I fought my way to him but it was too late. I looked around for their leader I saw him on a rock at the back. As I fought my way to him two larger beastmen stepped in front of me they were probably my height at least but a lot thinner and covered with fur one had a morning star tied to it’s tail which he swung at me killing two of the little ones in the process, I dodged and drove my fist into his face flooring it. The other one grabbed me from behind and bit into my shoulder. I dropped to one knee and pulled it over me as it lay there I swung my club down on its head shattering its’ skull the other had regained its composure and came barrelling towards me this time I swung my club in its verminous face. It fell and I grabbed its neck and snapped it casting it to the floor I went after the grey one whom had started casting lightning from its' staff which was laying waste to the manlings. I assume he thought the big ones had taken care of me as he allowed me to get too close he turned to face me as I grabbed it by the throat it tried to speak some incantation but my grip was too tight and its life was soon ended. With there leader gone and Gol finishing off the other large ones the swarm that had seemed like hundreds disappeared down holes and in cracks. Victory was ours
The manlings sealed the cave with some black powder and we retuned to the landowner for our next task.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Ademo for a tribe, The Madcap Moonbrew Co.
When the grots of the Raggedy Moon Clan descended from their foothill caves to raid a duardin caravan heading to Greywater Fastness, Zeller Bullfungo and his fellow greenskins were expecting to find precious gemstones and metals. Instead, when all the stunty guards were slaughtered or chased off and the canvases thrown off the carts, to their dismay, all they found were wooden barrels. Barrels upon barrels upon barrels. Most of the clan turned back in disappointment: there were no shiny trinkets here to trade with the other clans and no greenskin was interested in the disgusting brew of the more 'civilised' races. Zeller Bullfungo, the clan's shaman, however, had an idea - quite possibly his first and to this date his best...
Whilst the other grots returned to their caves, Zeller returned to the caravan with a pack of squigs and some willing (or intimidated) herders. Together they dragged the barrels (most of them) and returned (most of them) back to the clan's stronghold. Upon returning, Zeller sealed himself in his shamanic chamber, feverishly setting to work; cracking open the kegs and manically throwing in all sorts of strange, colourful fungi. For days, strange chants and magical crackles (and booms) could be heard from outside the cave and just when a small mob of grots were ready to break in and batter Zeller's brains out, he emerged; wide eyed and cackling. What he had created would come to be known as 'moonbrew' and it would forever change the fortunes of the Raggedy Moon Clan.
Now addicted to moonbrew, the grots of the Raggedy Moon Clan launched ever daring raids on both human and duardin caravans - throwing away the useless gems and arcane books, seeking only the discusting ales that Zeller could use as a base for his moonbrew. Within months, word of the moonbrew had spread across the hills and surrounding areas, attracting more and more grots to the cause, swelling the clan's numbers. But news of the raids had also drawn the attention of a greedy tribe of ogors - the Tightfists.
One fateful night, the Tightfist clan strode in to the moonclan camp, kicking grots aside, raiding the larders and proceeding to guzzle barrels of the famous moonbrew. Tensions rose and a standoff ensued between the huge ogors and the swarms of grots as well as packs of squigs (who were ready to eat anyone from either side). A parlay however, between the Tightfist tyrant, Ugrok Man-masher and Zeller resulted in the formation of 'The Madcap Moonbrew Co.' The terms of the partnership were simple: Zeller would step up production of moonbrew, in order to satisfy both the grots and ogors and the Tightfists would, in exchange, give 'protection' to the grots and enable bigger and bolder raids.
The Madcap Moonbrew Co. has continued to grow as a loose coalition of moonclan grots, ogors and even an aleguzzler gargant who together, through their mutual love (or addiction) of moonbrew, launch raids upon the caravans and breweries of the free peoples of Ghyran. Zeller now has has aspirations to go 'international' - setting up moonbrew breweries throughout the mortal realms, adding new exotic flavours of fungi to his recipe.
So, in the words of Zeller, 'We'z commin' fer yoo an' we'z takin' yer brew!'
Currently painted are:
Zeller Bullfungo - Grot Shaman
40 Moonclan Grots
10 Squig Hoppers
Ugrok Man-Masher - Tyrant
In the pipeline:
More Squig Hoppers
Gallery can be viewed here:
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to BrAiKo for a tribe, Eyez of da Fen
The fimir of the 'Eyez of da Fen' call the extensive marshland of Ulgu home. Here the mists that shroud their settlements occur naturally with little encouragement from their dirach lore-masters. Ever-shrouded are the huuge tracks of land through which they can prowl safely. Their raiding parties can reach mortal settlements many days travel away, and have been known to raid even the enigmatic aelfs of Ulgu, of which precious little is known.
For all the protection the mists of the Ulgu fen-lands provide, they also bring incredibly unpredictable and unstable ground. Many would-be 'castles' of the fimir have sank into the swamp over the years. The neighbouring bonesplitter orruk tribes have, on a number of occasions, declared that the fimir were daft to build a castle in the swamp. But they built one all the same, just to show 'em. In the penultimate attempt at securing a marsh stronghold, an errant fire raged through the grounds before the structure burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. The construction of the latest offering was closely scrutinized by the ever-watchful eye of their Meargh hag-queen, Felar the Great Eye. The Eyez of da Fen did not disappoint their mother - this castle stayed up.
Now secure in their new residence, the Meargh tells stories to the fimir clan of a world-that-was, aeons ago. There the fimir favoured venturing into dungeons where their martial prowess was tested against countless heroes questing in the darkness; aelf, duardin and mortal alike.
In recent times,despite the favourable enviroment for survival, the numbers of the Eyes of da Fen are few. Even worse, the dirach lore-master and the fimirach noble caste have long been absent after an optimistic month-long raid was targeted for the aelven city of Ur-Ganeth. As such the fimir warriors must train for combat without their war leaders. When mustered for war, the fimir have been known to wrangle savage bonesplitter orruks and moonclan grots to their cause, which the greenskinz oblige for fear of future raiding parties appearing on their own doorsteps.
Soon will be the day when the dirach and nobles return, and then the Eyez of da Fen will be ready.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Da Great Red for a tribe, Da Iron-Hide Ard Boyz
At the Dawn of the Mortal Realms Da Godz Gork and Mork (or possibly Mork and Gork) found themselves fused. Enraged GorkaMorka beat at it's divine breast attempting to separate themselves and a single drop of green blood fell to the Realm of Ghur. From this drop sprung a single humongous Orruk in the manner of all Orruks when they spring from the earth. This Orruk so disorientated by its violent birth that it forgot almost all of what it was in the World that was (The mighty warrior Grimgor Ironhide) and so gave himself a new name Korruk, Da Great Red. And as Korruk fought across the realm of Ghur he shed his spores and where they took root the First Ironjawz sprang. Titanic, apelike Orruks with skin so dark it seemed Black. These first formed a Guard around there violent progenitor becoming Da Immortulz. Soon diluted versions of the Ironjawz race began to apear and move away from where Da Great Red landed a place now known as the sea of bones. Soon Da Great Red Waaagh! was in full charge and seemed unstoppable. Many of Korruk's victories are lost to legend but at the peak of his power Da Great Red war Clan returned across the plains making war on all from the Ogors to the Beasts of Cartha and attempting to re cross the greatest monument to there destruction the now grown Sea of Bones. In an event that went down in the annals of Azyr Orruk and Stormcast fought the Bone Horde of Mannfred and its Flesh eater allies. Defeating them and the reinforcing Lich Guard of Arkhan supported by Astral Templars Da Great Red was left with a decimated force. Rounding up the shattered Waaagh! and forging it into a new Warclan Da Iron-Hide Ard Boyz! Though weakened Da Great Red Has won many major victories against all comers, from the shattering of the Hammers of Sigmar at the Greensand Beir, to the Defeating of the beast caller Seraphon at the Life-Beast Nexus. As Da Iron-Hide Ard Boyz gain in strength Korruk hears tell of Gordrakk the so called "Fist of Gork" who claims the title of Boss of Bosses. Korruk will hunt this pretender and When he finds him there challenge will shake the realms to there core and show the Gods they to can know fear. For an Orruk gains only strength from victory and whome ever wins will have no rival in uniting all of Destruction's forces in one final Waaagh! and what army could Order, Chaos or even Death itself bring to beat that would stop such a Apocalyptic event.
Da Clash of Da Waaagh's! Part 1: "Zog Da Sea of Bones!" Roaring with insensate rage the great red struck out with his twin axes, cleaving whistling paths through the air were moments before Lord Castellant Hamilcar Bear-Eater had stood. Hamilcar seeing the devastation wrought by those axes danced away from the Gigantic Orruks, his warplate rent in a dozen places and his barbaric finery in tattered by this Ironjaw and it's minions. Lying where it had fallen was one of Hamilcars Gryth hounds and 10 feet away at the base of a pile of shattered Skeleton warriors was the rest of that same Gryth Hound. Korruk had bisected the beast with Red-Axe before ever it reached him. 'Ha, good for fighting my hounds beast. Not so effective against the Bear eater aye!' 'Your speakin big, brave words Hammer-Boss, after I killed yer dead boyz and and yer hammer boyz and crumped up your nice Shiny armour' As the Mega Boss monologued Hamilcar swooped in under his guard and drove his halberd with all his Sigmar give strength right across the left side of Korruks face. God forged Sigmarite glanced from the beasts Ironhard Skull but caught on something, pulling it from his head with a creaking groan of metal and a bellow of anger from the Great Red. Once more Hamilcar attempted to jink out of the Orruks reach but this time he was too slow. The Great Red flung a fist out before him striking Hamilcar in the facplate like the kick from a gargant. Rolling through the dust Hamilcar came to one knee spitting blood that leaked in a rivulet down the chin of his maroon war mask. As the Great Red clasped hands to face in pain Hamilcar's Gaze darted, assessing the situation. knots of liberators and what remained of Arkhans Lich-Guard faught with Mobs of Ironjawz. Both had wiped out what remained of Manfreds forces long ago and had quickly turned upon one-another, such has always been the way of Orruks when a good fight is afoot. Nearby his two remaining Gryth Hounds worried at a mountainous armored Maw-Krusha that had already pulverized a retinue of Liberators. Even as he watch the vastly larger beast caught the leaping hound in a snapping maw, the bulldog like wyvern-kin shook the animal like a rat before swallowing the Lepard sized beast whole, though it's companion held on wreaking a red mauling on the Maw-Krusher as though it had a chance at winning. It always brought Hamilcar great sadness to see the Gryth houds pass for unlike there Stormcast Masters, Drakoths and Star Drakes, Gryth hounds are only mortal. There would be no re-forging for them. The Great Red bellowed, regaining his composure. The metal patch over its left eye had been ripped away, revealing a knot of scar tissue and a fresh, red, wrent over a vacant socket. 'Right, you've ad it now!' With that he began a landslide charge forward. Peeling away from the melee, Librator-Prime Hrothgarus tried to intercept the avalanche of muscle. He didn't even slow. Sweeping his axes before him he took Hrothgarus apart without breaking stride, picking up speed as the Prime ascended in lightning around him and crackling over his armored bulk. Hamilcar grasped his halberd two handed and muttered a prayer to Sigmar. Roaring as he rushed to meet the beast. The last thing he saw before ascending to Sigmaron and reforging was that single, glowing red eye. *** Da Iron-Hide Ard Boyz consists of:
Da Great Red (represented by Gordrakks rules and a miniature that is Gordrak with more spikes and Grimgor Ironhide's head)
1 Brute Fist 5 units of Brutes (Da Immortulz, Da Wurld Masha Brawl, Da Rokk Nobz, Da Blak Hand and Da Skull Gitz)
1 Iron Fist: 1 Brutes (Da Blud Tusks) 1 Gore Gruntas (Da Knuckle Bones) 1 Ard Boyz (Da Skarr Boy)
Various support characters
Gob Da Gore Mouth Boss of Da Blud Tusks (Mega Boss) He has been a continual disapointment to Da Great Red as he has not once failed to die in a battle even when surrounded by his Blud Tusks. He was responsible for the Loss at the hands of Da Khaos Boyz in shatter-dust gulch
Drill (Black Orruk Big Boss)
Zog'fer'branez (Weird Knob)
Drumm da Travela (War Chanter)
*A note: Da Great Red Himself is as of yet unpainted and I haven't even begun work on the Brute fist, they just sit there on the shelf as I struggle through work and study. But in various combinations this army has won all but on battle where I fairly lost against a better player. Most of the battles I describe are drama-tised versions of actual games some of which I poorly recreated from the knights of vengeance audio series. I hope you all enjoy.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Charlemagne for a tribe, Skull Biters
From the journal of Herr Otto in a chapter titled "know thy enemy"
Rok'gar the brain gobbler gained his title for his belief that the power of the maw allowed him to gain knowledge from the brains of his opponents. Many ogres did not believe in his claim but none could deny he was the biggest, meanest son of a gun around. Rok'gars current campaign of conquest started during a conflict with a band of the slaves to the dark powers. A powerful Mage had been giving Rok'gars forces a run for their money. Fed up with the Mage turning his ogres into ash he lead a charge straight through the bulk of the war bands forces, hacking and slashing as he went. Rok'gar finally made his way through the mass of bodies, the Mage summoned all the magical energy he could manage to blast the tyrant with, eyes glowing with barley restrained power the Mage chanted his spell. The last words the Mage heard before his death was Rok'gar chuckling "heads up" before chomping off the top of his head, leaving the lower half of a jaw and a flapping tongue. The mages tortured body exploded from the pent up energy blasting all around his corpse in a golden flash. When the smoke settled Rok'gar was found sitting in a crater surrounded by gore with a flicker in his eye and one word on his lips "Ghyran". At least that's how the locals tell the tale, Rok'gar has been gaining numbers he has to be stopped before things get out of hand.
the fluff is from a AoS campaign I never got to finish but I thought it worked here. A fun thing about it though is we got custom command traits, mine was Ability: Braingobble – Rok’gar has an appetite for brainfood, and he’s all out of Bran Flakes! When Rok’gar kills a HERO or MONSTER, he takes a healthy bite out of their cranium, healing a wound previously lost.
1 fire belly
7 iron guts
1 thunder tusk
1 stone horn
5 wolves(saber cats)
1 iron blaster
1 scrap launcher
i don't have the handbook handy but I remember it all being around four thousand points.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Lord Hogwash for a tribe, Da Deff Jawz
Prologue- The Chasm of Carnage
This beast had made a fool of me, Khoraz the Heart-Render had thought to himself as he walked to the front of his battle line. His Bloodbound warband, "The Bloodied Huntsmen", were no foolish idol worshipers of some feeble and quite god; no they were devoted followers to the god of blood and slaughter Khornarth. Those of his mighty warband had no fear of death, they embraced it. His fellow hunters understood that the only way to truly show your devotion is not just in the slaughter of others but of your own inevitable death; only then have you truly given everything over to Khornarth. It was with the arrival of other devoted followers of his deity, The Slaughterhelms- Chaos warriors whose perfection of warfare has blessed them with warpforged armor and an unnaturally long life, that he knew he was truly on the path his master wished him to be.
Then the beast arrived.
After a successful raid on a Stormcast patrol, Khoraz and his men were enjoying the spoils of war when they were set upon by a band of Orruks. Khoraz had no fear of these feral creatures, their skulls accompanied those of champions of other races upon the chains that dangled around his waist. It wasn't until the first group of these Orruks bulled over his first line of men that he realized there was something different about these creatures.
The Bloodreavers crashed upon hardened steel and bulky muscles like a frenzied hound might battle a stonehorn.
These beasts did not fight as a typical Orruk would, there was no wild abandon, no infighting, no haphazard defense. They fought in lock step of one another, like some great mechanism. Where one would catch a Reaver axe with it's shield, the one just behind it would bring down its great weapon in a single precise strike. Those wielding twin blades stationed on the outskirts of the mob, cutting their way to the center of his men; as if knowing how to cut them off from the rest of his force. Even their gutteral war cries were in unison- "Deff Jawz!" Their unit leader would call out to the answer of "Chomp!"; this answer was accompanied by a sudden upheaval of screams of pain from his men and sprays of blood from their ranks. On top of being regimented these creatures were also larger than the typical orruk, which they used to their advantage against his men.
To the outer left flank more Orruks came, and these made directly for his center line of his Bloodwarriors, and it was with the arrival of these greenskinned warriors that Khoraz realized that there was no winning this engagement. These Orruks were of an entirely other breed, each one looked as though it could best the average warboss in one-on-one combat. These towering beasts, sporting jagged armor and wielding weapons in each hand clashed man to beast in combat. Though his warriors were used to facing mighty combatants in the form of the Stormcast, they were wholly unready for the sheer brutality that these Orruks embodied. Before to long even these devotees of the blood god were sent fleeing.
As Khoraz tried to rally his men, it was then that he saw what could only be described as the largest Orruk he had ever seen.
A bellowing, striding monument to the barbaric two-headed god GorkaMorka. It's jagged armor covered with the trophies, the skulls of men and beast alike; the skull of a khorne daemon was latched to it's shoulder intrigued Khoraz the most. With a swing of it's axe it cut through men as if they were nothing more than wine-skins filled with blood. Khoraz wanted nothing more than to test his mettle and prove that he was the true wearer of skulls, but with his force dismantled he knew it was doubtful he would even be to reach the opposing general let alone have the strength and energy to face it in combat after carving his way through the enemy ranks. So with that he retreated, knowing that he would one day face this creature in true one-on-one combat.
Today I have my vengeance. Khoraz was now the one waiting and ready for combat. After rounding up a new warband Khoraz went on a new crusade of blood, one to bring back his glory, one to attract more followers of the Skulltaker god, one that would culminate in a final battle with his fist true adversary; the Megaboss Kolgar. He could hear the stomping of an army of iron shod boots marching toward him, the ground shook as though the very earth was an agitated beast hungry for blood. War-cries of both sides filled the air like thunder from a great tempest; praises to each side's deity were hurled at their opponents, along with the obvious insults that only naturally accompanied them. True he had tasted defeat at these beast's hands in the past but now it was not just mortals he had at his side, but he has attracted the attention of the denizens of the Warp. Vorhakk the Wrathful, a Bloodthirster of true anguish and hatred now accompanied his army; it's whip crackled as if made from lighting; it's ax screaming for blood. Vorhakk was followed by its ever present companion The Claws of Rage, a skullgrinder that would accompany Vorhakk like a Bloodhound would follow its own master. Surely with these two chosen beings of his god nothing could stand in his path.
It was then that he saw his old enemy not on foot as he was when they first met, but upon a great mound of mottled, horned flesh. And with a bellow that shattered the surrounding rock formations and broke open the ground with the effects of an earthquake it was then that the Megaboss and its mount signaled that the battle was long overdo, and so the orruks charged.
Da Deff Jawz- Led by the self titled "Megaboss Kolgar Da Great 'Eadtaker Blood-killah Thundah-Smasha 'Umimie chewer Da Big". After every victory Kolgar took it upon itself to continually add names to its title so all will know who is the one in charge. He wields a pair of choppas, Gutta and Smasha, and rides into battle on the back of his Mawkrusher Chompjaw.
- An Ironjaw tribe of great renown and enmity, the Deff Jawz have carved out a large section of Ghur of which a Realmgate is located in the center, knowing that only the hardest most determined warriors would dare come through; they will especially allow the worshippers of the Ruinous powers to come through unmolested knowing that the more that come through the better the fight will be.
- They allow fellow greenskins to occupy their area under two conditions 1. That when the Deff Jawz march off to war they stay stay on the outskirts of their WAAAGH!!!. (No weedy boyz are gonna steal their good fights.)
2. They fight the Deff Jawz whenever they say so.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Soulsmith for a tribe, Da Bloody Fang
Prologue: Dust and Water
As a scholar of the Freeguild's of Azyr, the opportunity presented to me was unlike any other. This could land me in the history books, my published work in libraries among the Mortal Realms. Alternatively, this could lead to a swift return to Sigmar's embrace. I, Gerber Lichter, have been charged by my betters in the colleges with research of a most peculiar and unknown facet of one of the most terrifying races known to man. In short, I am to discover the intricacies of Greenskin society, their economic systems and those of hierarchy. An astronomically reckless task, all told. Despite what you might think, the college had, through contacts in Sigmar's cities of Ghur, actually discovered a large tribe of the creatures who maintain trade with other species of the Realm of Beasts. So it came to be that I am here, travelling towards the city of the Bloody Fang. Even the name compounds the enormity of this task.
After travelling through the gate to the realm of Ghur, me and my apprentice scribe, Nicolai, were introduced to our guides to the city. They were hulking men, of dark skin and piercing eyes. They wore skins, though I saw they also carried talismans of the twin-tailed comet of Sigmar. Despite my protests, they would allow no guards from the freeguilds to join us. I reluctantly agreed after they stated simply that the presence of any more outsiders may cause a stir in the Greenskins, and if that were to happen they would leave us to our fate as fast as they could. We mounted our steeds and joined them, making our way out into the wilds of the plane of Beasts.
What struck me first and foremost was the emptiness. Azyr is a golden wonder, with spires and bastions everywhere, thoroughfares and places of learning. Ghur, or at least this part of the realm, was dusty and empty. The land was of sand and stone, all a dusty yellow. Bushes pocked the landscape alongside pitiful trees and boulders. Our guides stated simply that we follow the wide, fast river that flowed near the city of Sigmar, and it would take us to their city – apparently named “The Bonefall Ruins”. I would tell you all the varied creatures we saw, but that is not the purpose of this account and much better scholars than eye have covered the animals of the realm than I.
The first sign of the settlement was on the horizon, when a colossal mountain rose out of the plains. It was of similar dusty stone, with veins of darker oranges, browns, and greys. The plateau had more green than I had seen so far, though it was only with squinting it was visible. When I could hear the roar did I realise that the “fall” part of the name was quite literal – something common among greenskins. The river must have fallen from the top of this wide mountaintop, which explained why it was so much more vibrant up there. It was at this point I saw my first true orruk. One of our guides grunted, and gestured to a figure partially obscured by bushes a mile or so away. It was a humanoid figure atop a large, tough, vicious looking boar. I couldn't make out much else, for it soon dug in it's heels and the boar darted away.
Approaching the city, I could feel eyes watching us from the brush at all times since our encounter with the orruk. The closer we got, the more I could make out. The mountain's cliffs stretched to both sides of the horizon, a huge natural wall, a rift in the land. This jutted inwards where the river had clearly carved it's way into the stone over time. The waterfall was spectacular. All manner of colours darted in the constant spray. It landed atop a shelf some forty feet above the city. Now the city's name made even more sense. The bones of a gigantic creature laid splayed atop this shelf. It lay as if it had fallen, the skull upside down, with ribs stabbing into the sky. I made out pieces of vertebrae in the falls themselves, creating the spray. One claw curled into the cliff's, as if meekly attempting to climb back to where it fell. It was only nearer that I spotted a second river, which fell also from atop the mountain to the left of the city. I surmised it must disappear into the ground close to the city, as it did not make an appearance whilst we travelled. The city itself was hard to describe. It was of stone and wood, all dusty and unkempt. The stone buildings were often low, or otherwise had been built up further in wood. The stonework was seemingly too uniform, too precise for such creatures to construct. It did not seem like anything I had seen created by the artificers and masons of Sigmar. The woodwork was chaotic. Planks and panels were everywhere, often shaped into fangs or other brutal shapes. Spikes were common. There were tents, flags, and other more grisly trophies. These spread away from the ruins, and as we drew closer and closer I saw so many things I thought I would only read of. There were other men, camped further from other beings, some nodding at our guides. We saw darting, small figures in long, dusty, sand-coloured robes. I caught sight of one's face, and saw a long, hooked nose, and a vicious fanged mouth. It had cunning, mean eyes that seemed to glow red. I knew from my studies that this creature was known as a grot – one of the smaller, diminutive greenskin species. We also saw more orruks. Closer, I could see that they seemed to have different groups. Some wore even less than our guides, more paint than clothing. They carried rough stone tools and weapons. There were orruks in leather and metal. These ranged in size greatly, from the same as their unclothed cousins, to huge beasts as large as the next group of creatures we saw. Like the grot, these had skin coloured green, a rich deep colour, like that of grass. All orruks were impossibly muscular, and the implications of strength were terrifying. There was one group of large humanoid figures, all gathered around one massive horned beast. They were Ogors. Their skin matched our guides, though seemed to have tinges of grey, reminding us of their differences with us. As if their size wasn't enough.
We made our way into the streets of the city. I say streets, but truly it was madness. Brutish figures walked all around us, carrying anything from lumps of metal to raw flesh. A common motif I spotted was two red fangs, no doubt the tribe's sigil. The smell, oh the smell. It assaulted you constantly, worse than any sewer. We drew some attention, and before long our guides stopped us inside an ancient square surrounded by ruined stone buildings, crowded in greenskin woodwork. A figure approached us.
Chapter 1: The Beast in the Skull
Our guides had bid us farewell with little more than a nod and a shove at the grot who approached us. He also wore a sand coloured robe, but it's hood was red. It had a few bags and a vicious knife at it's belt, and carried a staff of gnarled wood, topped with a skull. An evidently human skull. It was not the first we saw in the city, or the last. It seemed that our visit had been somehow arranged, that somehow the greenskins wanted us here. It was impossible to comprehend.
The creature looked us over, snorted, and beckoned with one clawed finger that we should follow. It led us through a building, which was full of all manner of scraps of a real society. Through a broken wall, we came into a tunnel which led uphill. The air was stuffy and torches sputtered from the walls. Before I could work out where we were, we came out into the open. The sun blinded me for a moment before I spotted it. The upside down skull of the great creature which had crashed from above. The roar of the waterfall was so much louder than it had been in the streets below, and made the air cooler. We walked a little, the grot giving us no time to observe the city from this vantage. Bridges of rough-hewn wood carried us over the many rivulets that ran from the waterfalls and continued to flow to the side of the city. There were skulls of all creatures mounted on poles as we approached, stacks of ruined, rusty weapons. Offerings. The grot stopped, and cleared it's throat, before pointing his staff at the red cloth covered the opening of the rough wooden structure created in the giant monster's skull. We stepped between the front fangs of this great beast into the darkness of the tent.
Inside, there were so many things. Dried herbs and meats hung from the ceiling. Braziers burned everywhere. Cloths covered the floors and walls, a riot of colours dulled with dust and sand. There was rough furniture of wood and bone, and what could be called a bed – furs and straw atop a frame of wood. There was a step, and we were led by the grot onto a platform further up. We faced an orruk. For it sat on something like a throne, low to the floor, with many bones and tusks jutting from behind. To the left a staff balanced against it. It seemed to be made of wood and bone, with a large, heavy-browed skull topping it. Light poured in through a hole in the wall, and I realised the throne sat in front of the orbit of the giant skull the tent was made inside.
For the first time, the grot spoke. “Dis is Grukk, da Dominata, da link to Gorkamorka!” The grot's voice was high-pitched and gravely, like it had spent it's life screaming and shouting. The orruk shifted as it's title was listed to us, and my eyes adjusted to the room. It seemed to be wearing a large hooded robe of black fabric, and a brown skirt. The black robe had red flames painted upon it, and many human skull and shards of metal and stone were attached to it's edges. Two long curved horns were tied next to the creature's face.
It looked at us with beady red eyes that seemed to glow with some fell magic, and finally said something. It had felt like we were waiting staring at each other for minutes.
“Welcum to da city, humies.” I felt it only proper that we show respect and I bowed. It grunted something of a laugh and continued. “It's da will of Gorkamorka dat you stinkin' weaklings know da troof of the strength of our boyz. I shall show you da tribe, and what strength we 'ave. I iz da great shaman of da god, and I tell dem what he finks. Der are two uvas: Wugnot tells da wild boyz wot gorkamorka finks, and Gitta” he pointed at the grot “tells dem grots what sneaky stuff dey should do. My boyz are the toughest, strongest, and meanest.”
I knew that these are recorded as referring to themselves as “Ironjawz”, due to the tendency for their armour to have jaw-like plates. This meant Grukk was not only possessing strange greenskin magic, but he also had the natural strength that came with his size.
“Follow me humie, I'll show you da city and da boyz. Den you can run back to ya stinking shiney city and tell 'em 'ow tuff we are!” He roared the last bit and laughed as we quivered. He grabbed the staff, and stomped to the tent entrance.
My Tribe of gits occupy a large, ruined city set against a dramatic waterfall. The city acts as a hive for different parts of greenskin society: Ironjawz rule the top spots and act as the tuff nuts and armourers. They are led by Grukk himself, who whilst not the megaboss, has greater power given by Gorkamorka. The next major part of the cities inhabitants are moonclan grots. They carve constant expansions into the cliffs, as well as adding more and more ramshackle structures to the ruins, with assistance from the odd gargant. They also act as the go between with the minor group of spider worshipping gits, who live in the jungles atop the waterfall and provide creatures such as troggoths and spiders. Gitta is the lead shaman of these grots, Finally, a significant number of Bonesplitterz operate around the city. hunting and tracking in their own, smaller communities and bringing in the spoils to the city. They are proficient hunters, often mounted or using bows. Their link to Gorkamorka is Wugnot. Together, the three shamans form a triumvirate, expressing the forms and will of Gorkamorka and leading the boyz unquestionably (usually after a head pops from a disgruntled upstart).
The current army list stands at 1000 points in AoS, though I haven't got the handbook to check artefacts etc:
Orruk Warboss with Banner (Leader) [He is more like the totem bearer of the tribe, but leads for competitiveness) Ironjawz Weirdnob 10 Ardboyz/5 brutes 20 Moonclan Grots 5 Boar Boyz (Count as Ironjawz scouts/runty boyz) 1 Gargant The main thing about the list is that I wanted to stick mixed destruction, but also to limit costs use a lot of miniatures I already own. At some point I will expand it, likely with a Kunnin' Ruk, and an Ironfist/Weirdfist/Ardfist. I also have spider riders I could add, as well as more moonclan grots, and savage boar boyz.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to NinthMusketeer for a tribe, Sunbyte Clan
To encounter the Sunbyte Clan is to witness a belligerent horde of marauding Ogors and Grots seemingly the same as many others, perhaps noted as unusual by somewhat odd garb and bearing. An alert observer would spot the flickering of torch and flame as the barbaric force began its lumbering charge, one of keen senses would even pick out a strong smell of soot and sulfur mixed in with the stench of unwashed flesh as they neared. Such a foe could perhaps deduce enough to prepare themselves, but most do not begin to realize the extent of their misfortune until the first gouts of flame erupt from the Ogor lines. Tattooed mystics spit forth bolts of arcane fire, soon joined by dozens more belched from their followers. Inane cackling echoes through the smoke as screaming masses of Ogor, Grot, and whirling metal break away from their fellows to gouge great furrows of crushed armor and pulped bones through enemy lines. Great blazes coalesce into massive grinning orbs that let loose bellowing laughter as they bite down upon the foe. Bu when the horde hits home such attacks are revealed to be merely a prelude. It is then that the Sunbyte’s foes are ensnared, pummeled, stabbed, and cooked alive in a tide of burning violence that leaves a carpet of the charred and trampled in its wake. Once the appetizer is concluded the horde doubles back, gorging themselves on the flesh of the fallen before stripping the battlefield of useful scrap and hauling off any meat left uneaten. It is not uncommon for a few enemy soldiers to survive, having fled or hidden in time to escape notice then emerging only to lay sight upon a field of gnawed bone and soot-stained splinters.
The Sunbyte Clan is, at its core, a firebelly tribe. Following Gorkamorka as the Sun-Eater these Ogors continually seek a sun their mystics may pull from the sky so that the tribe can consume it and in so doing follow in Gork’s footsteps. Along the way these Ogors consume a wide variety of seemingly unpalatable substances such as sulfurous crystal, tar-gum, and wyldwood charcoal. Even more favored is the meat and organs of fiery creatures like magmadroths. This diet is what allows the tribe’s bulls to belch forth globs of flame, a talent that forms the basis of magic harnessed by true firebellies that lead them. But while Sunbyte Ogors may be the clan’s base they would have died out long ago were it not for their Grot counterparts. The black-robed Grots of the Sunbyte possess a Moonclan lineage, but abandoned the nocturnal ways of their kin centuries ago. These so-called ‘Sunclan’ Grots prefer to fight under cover of smoke and ash rather than moonlit darkness, and have substituted Ogors in place of Squigs as brutish assistance. They have also forsaken the Bad Moon as an icon of worship, instead offering praise to the Bad Sun that still burns in the belly of Gorkamorka. These two parts of the Sunbyte Clan form a greater whole that functions somewhere between fire-worshipping pilgrims and a horde of howling arsonists, though where they fall in that spectrum is irrelevant to those unfortunates caught in their path.
[There is much more to be learned of the Sunbyte clan, information that shall be revealed in time as it is written out by some being from beyond the unknowable fourth wall.]
*Tyrant Skrapbelch has a large number of titles as appropriate for such a long-standing leader, enough that he keeps several Grots about with the explicit task of remembering them all. Such a grandiose name would naturally be rather tedious to list and accordingly these are merely three of his favorites
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Kessler for a tribe, Sarvikuhord
THE STORY OF SARVIK SIXEYES, THE SMART, THE HORNED ONE
I was the runt of an ogre tribe. Not weak enough to suffer gorger's fate, I somehow survived to adulthood, usually feasting on leftovers - which are understandably rare among ogres. Starving, I finally left to brave new world, and was - to my great surprise - immediately hired by different warring races. Turns out, even a runt ogre is formidable warrior among the lesser races!
I found the biggest meals among the demons of Khorne, and served there the longest. I grew bigger and stronger. I believed it was because of food. But then I discovered small horns growing from my back, and I understood that something else was changing me. The corrupting aura of demons was affecting me and some sinister power was growing inside me!
I welcomed my new self. Or more like "selves" - after especially large feast I found a small nubbin on my neck. It grew in days and soon I had another hungry head growling beside me.
One day, I cut my favourite gnoblar in half and ate him. But instead of sweet pleasure of ingestion I felt searing pain in my stomach! The blasted gnoblar somehow survived in his half-form and gnaw his way out out from my precious gut and was now dangling out, screeching. That was a turning point. The ring was full. I left the army of chaos to gather my own tribe.
Naturally the two-headed ogre was beckoning to others of my kind. After all, how can you not respect an ogre, who has two mouths to eat twice as fast, a watch-out gnoblar living in his belly and think with two brains?
I ńamed myself Sarvik the Smart and soon met a butcher "Vats", an apprentice of Skrag, who had cut off his left arm to resemble his ex-mentor. We teamed up and our weird triumvirate soon obtained fame and new members arrived.
First we recruited a roving band of young ogre bulls. Then some companions from my "maneatering" days joined - one Bretonnian mercenary and one from Khorne army. Remnants of slaughtered ogre tribe arrived to back us up with cannons. After I met two mournfang riders, I promoted my favourite bulls into ironguts and sometimes we team up with a band of orruks or grot wolf riders and currently we roam the land as a swarm of locusts, eating anything on our way.
Now I have set my eyes on neighbouring Bretonnian lands for a new source of food and power. I have sent wolf riders to scout the area and all of us are mustering forces for the upcoming invasion.
-1 Tyrant Sarvik (converted)
-1 Butcher Vats (converted)
-9 ogre bulls
-3 maneaters (converted)
-8 mournfang pack
-1 frostlord on stonehorn
-1 huskard on thundertusk
-1 hunter (converted)
-4 frostsabres (Fenrisian Wolves models)
-6 gore gruntas (with Braggoth)
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Tyberous Khan for a tribe, Teeth of the Hungry Mountain
Occupying a ruined Duardin City, Tyberous Khans horde consists of mainly ogres, tribes or Gutbusters and wandering Maneaters have flocked to his banner to follow his beastclaws in the unending feast. Aswell as ogres, Khan counts an impressive collection of Slave Gargants amongst his ranks, and the slopes of the mountains that surround his home are stalked by Yhetis, Troggoths, and even more sinister creatures. Khan is an oddity in Beastclaws culture, as he's stopped running from the great chill that pursues he and his kin. Instead he's found refuge in the belly of the hungry mountain, it's liquid iron guts banishing the cold.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to damianlz for a tribe, Cult of the Red Maw
Squigs are often a staple in the armies of destruction they are dangerous, predatory, delicious and down right unpredictable. But any thinking creature from great the slann to simple orruks fail to comprehend how an enormous red squig could come to lead its own army.
In recent time, the cult of the Red Maw has stretched across the lands as Shifgig (a pathetic little greenskin even by halfling opinion) proclaims the will of the Red Maw as the emobidiment of Gorkamorka, the teeth and mouth that have adorned greeskin and ogre flesh and armor for until millennia. He proclaims this dangling mere feet in front of the great red maw, strapped to a board so as to not be eaten himself. Followers are indoctrinated by having the flesh chewed from their lips by the giant squig so that they too may have an eternal red maw. This has resulted in some having their upper halves consumed, but the remaining furious, pain driven & hungry horde are too preoccupied in their conviction to notice the removal of their arm or guts in battle as they are victorious time and time again.
Some doubt has been raised at Shifgig's ability to actually translate the will of the red maw, in addition to a few slightly more intelligent grotz have questioned whether 'leading an army' constituted the correct term for the mindless unpredictable nature of a Squig. The purveyor of these questions are quite often called out for having the ability to speak as their lips mustn't have been removed in faith and they are subsequently thrown into the great beast whole.
Uncertainty aside there must be some form of magic in play as in addition to greenskins, the beasts of destruction including the mighty mawcrushers submit their will and their lips to the mighty squig. As the numbers swell and the cult remains defeated it may come down to Shifgig's accidental demise before the red maw is ever stopped.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to ConOgre for a tribe, Khansür-khanate
The mountains in the north of the realm of life are known to be quite treacherous. The harsh landscape is devoid of life, little survives on the highland flats and rocky slopes of the high passes in the mountains.
In this hostile land looms the mountain of Karak'dor, and upon its side lives one of the most rightly feared tribes making up the ogre kingdoms. The tribes names is the Khansür-khanate. Lead by the undeniably paunch leader himself, Barüb-Bargegut Khan.
He has lead with an iron fist ever since he killed and ate his original Khan and leader Azgad-Bargegut, his father... He now leads the fearsome tribe through the realm of life and has even been heard to venture into other realms in search of food and plunder. Only returning once the seemingly endless appetite of the tribe is sated, and the lust for gold fulfilled
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Zolas for a tribe, Thunder Frost Tribe
The Thunder Frost tribe during the time of the old world was led by Farad'n Chill Bringer. Coming and favoring the cold climates of snow covered mountains they would raid and pillage for their food and sheer pleasure. Farad'n kept his leadership by being unusually cold and clinical (for an Ogor!) and would not hesitate to make examples quickly. Farad'ns brother Farok was his second in command Bruiser, who was know for his use of beasts of mountains for his forces such as mournfangs and stoneshorns. While Farad'n typically use infantry forces and giants to masterful effect. Both Brothers were fiercely loyal to each other. An unusual trait for Ogors but one which paid off greatly. The tribe has an unusual skin colour and tone. A testament to their favoured climate.
Following the age of Sigmar and sundering of the world the Tribe was forced to become nomadic to maintain food supply. But otherwise operated as they normally did. However, with the events the followed Baergut Vosjarl the curse (or blessing) of the Everwinter came. Suddenly Farad'n had found that his beasts and cavalry units along with his Brother Farok brought with them this Everwinter everywhere they went. The Brothers fought many battles and Farok who would tend to vanguard such battles would become known as Farok Ice Layer as he brought the Ice and winter to their enemies. Farad'n Chill Bringer still fiercely loyal and proud of his younger brother named him Frostlord of the Thunder Frost Tribes Beast Claw raiders. Elevating his brother as now a true equal. Farad'n took command of the Gutbuster, maneaters,Firebelly elements of the Tribe. Farok took the Beast Claw raider and Aleguzzler Gargants that he specialized in so well.
Both Brothers now raid throughout the mortal realms in unison. Farok bringing the Everwinter and Farad'n leading the might force. The tribe revelling in the Icy climate they favour where ever they roam. The Bond of the Brothers firm and solid, as they bring destruction and carnage with cold and calculated effect not seen in others of their kin. Leading to the fall of many who underestimate them. Will the brothers join with the recent Oruuk stirring lead by an Ironjaw that is said to be gathering a huge army? Only time will tell.
Kind regards Zolas.
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Gareth for a tribe, The Stronghold Thunderhorde
The Stronghold Thunderhorde is a marauding mix of brutal Ogors and savage Orruks, all mounted on a variety of monstrous creatures.
With a thunderous roar they ride forth from their vast mountain home, looting and pillaging across the Realms. This highly mobile stampede of destruction tramples all who would dare stand against it.
Stronghold Ogors and Orruks alike adorn themselves with the remains of their foes, having eaten the meat from the bones first of course. Rather than using drums or horns, they instead prefer to bellow their war cry as they charge into battle.
If you can hear the thundering of the Stronghold, it's too late to run!
The Thunderhorde is currently under construction, when complete it will be made up of the following units:
Orruk Warboss on Wyvern (Thunderlord Tuffgit Fugkrusha on White Manticore) Frostlord on Stonehorn (Morgut the Mighty) Huskard on Thundertusk (Gizard Thunderbelly) Grimhorn Rhinox Riders (lead the Mournfang Pack) - 2 models Mournfang Pack - 10 models Frost Sabres (Fenrisian Wolves) - 10 models Orruk Gore-gruntas (led by Grimfang 'Eadsmasha) - 6 models Savage Boarboy Maniaks - 20 models Icefall Yhetees (Thunderwolves) - 3 models
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Sazel for a tribe, The Everbruise Tribe
What defines a tribe?
For many Ogres, it is kinship, a blood-relation of a collection of essentially cousins and 2nd-cousins, who have rallied together to fend off the vicious winter landscapes of the Mountains of Mourn. To some, it is simply the bond of gold, whoever pays the most gets the muscle. But, to the Guteater clan, theirs is a tribe of a kinship stronger than that of blood.
Many Ogres are cast out of their tribes for various reasons: not carrying their weight (both figuratively and metaphorically), disagreeing with the Tyrant or one of his Bruiser supporters, or out of wanderlust. When they are left to fend for themselves, if a member of the Guteater clan discovers them, they present an opportunity for a new community: The Everbruise Tribe. To join this tribe, they need to only complete one task: The Initiation.
The Initiation is very simple. When the Ogre initiates are brought before the "council" (or, simply, the row of Bruiser lieutenants), the initiate must lay flat on the ground, and each Bruiser, in turn, swings his massive club and slams it into the chest of the initiate. If the Ogre is broken and killed, then their bloody corpse becomes a part of the next feast (and is already pre-tenderized). If the Ogre withstands the assault, however, he is considered a member of the tribe. The "Everbruise" part comes from the horrid permanent bruising and internal bleeding that comes from the attack, often leaving the chest region purple and blighted. Besides screening out weaker Ogres, this ritual has a underlying belief in it: the strongest part of an Ogre is his gut, and by pounding the chest region, it is believed that more of the muscle will move further down into the gut and outwards into the arms, thereby making him a stronger fighter and sturdier warrior.
The leader of this fraternity of outcasts is currently Khorag Guteater. The first outcasted Bruiser of his tribe in generations, he swore bloody revenge against his uncle (the Tyrant of his former tribe) that he would be back for vengeance. After a small journey as a Maneater, picking up valuable wealth and resources, he hired a few mercenary ogres and brought a bloody coup against the tribe, slaying them all and sacrificing them to the Maw, taking meaty bites out of each Ogre's gut to gain their former strength, hence his surname. He eventually gained the title "The Unbroken" during the events leading to the End Times. His tribal lands were assaulted by the rampaging forces of Chaos as the world began to fall, and although his warriors were cut down and defeated, he himself remained alive, and broke the chains of the slavers who tried to capture him for sacrificial purposes. Now, with some chains still permanently trapped to his gutplate, he leads what few remaining free Ogres can be found in a near-futile attempt for that which they crave most: food and survival.
The Army List: (Here's the full model count for the army that I have prepared ATM)
1 Tyrant: Khorag
1 BSB Bruiser: Ghort Polebearer, the lazy elder cousin of Khorag who happily holds the mast-like banner and uses it as a battering ram as well as a morale marker.
1 Slaughtermaster: Gharrar the Grisslemeiser, a large Butcher who favors the particularly unsavory bits of animals, including the grissle and the giblets.
1 Butcher: Hawgrag the Bloody, who is always wrapped in the entrails of his latest victims for easy access for gut magic.
1 Firebelly: Hikar Mountainheart, first arrived in the tribe coming out of a mountain cave, followed by an underground lava flow; many believe he was born from the mountain itself.
50 Gnoblars (assembled, over 100 in bits still lol)
4 Mournfang Cavalry
1 Scraplauncher (the ol' metal one)
about 4 more Ogre bodies not dedicated to any particular purpose yet
Total points comes in just shy of 6k (including all the filler upgrade points etc.)
...I don't have an updated picture for the full army, but I'll post one... eventually...
Hope you enjoyed!
Gnoblar_Herder reacted to Belchfist Beastkiller for a tribe, Belchfist Beastkiller's Brutes
Having finally risen to the rank of Irongut in Ghark Ironskin's Ironskin tribe, Belchfist was still not accepted by his peers. Every single other member of the Ironguts in the tribe were Ghark's family, and long ago on a drunken eve Belchfist had eaten Ghark's great grandson thinking he was a rather tasty looking extra large portion of gnoblar. This led to immense hatred and respect for Belchfist from the other Ironguts and even Ghark himself. With no wish to challenge for the Tyrant's position in a tribe that refused to value money more than pacts with evil small 'uns - Belchfist exiled himself and roamed the Mortal Realms as a Maneater travelling far and wide wherever his services were needed.
As a Man-eater his reputation was formidable. Renowned far and wide as having the canny knack of outlasting and besting the largest of beasts and either bringing them down or taming them, his services were required far and wide. Eventually, when being given orders bored him, he returned to the Mountains of Mourn and found that one of Ghark's sons - Meltfoot Irontooth had left the Ironskin tribe and created a new tribe of his own in the neighbouring lands. He had named the tribe after himself in vanity, and a small section of his relatives had followed him to become a semi-respected tribe themselves that could stand their ground against Ghark's attacks (as long as Meltfoot occasionally paid Ghark in precious iron to keep him at bay).
Belchfist, discovering this new tribe, saw only an opportunity to gain a position of power for himself. He joined the tribe as a returning Maneater, and eventually challenged Meltfoot's position. The battle lasted three days and was an arduous affair, with meltfoot taking Belchfist's left eye early on the second day, and he returning the favour towards the end of the fight. Belchfist eventually won through stamina alone, as Meltfoot collapsed from tiredness and hunger, and Belchfist beat him to a pulp with his bare hands and ate what was left in a second act of cannibalism. The humans in carvans he was protecting in return for gold to whom he told the tale called him "indefatigable" for it, and liking the sound of it added it to his name. He and his tribe now aspire to grow to the size and power of Ghark's tribe, and to assimilate them into the newly renamed Belchfist Beastkiller's Brutes tribe eventually.