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Before I begin on this tale of wonder(Ha ha ha, yeah sure) a brief real life report.
When I first got into Orcs&Gobbos, my friend very kindly gave me the Orcs from the 6th edition starter set(vs empire), anyway, one of the Orcs magically lost his hand, don't know where it went... Anyway for a laugh I made him the unit champion.
Second game(Won't go into the first, think i won though, hmm...) and a series of events later, my one handed champion was 4" away from his Wood elf Noble on steed, no stand&shoot available and to close to the edge to flee so the Noble held.
I inflited one unsaved wound, one left, he whiffs all attacks(+horse) bar one which I save (On a 6!), next round he goes first, whiffing all attacks except for one horse attack, which I save! (did I mention it was a 6+?), I attack back killing him!
In the third game, he got slautered in a challenge with a Wardancer(or almost dead, same for game purposes), and this is the fluffy aftermath story (the second battle now leaving the Bandit canon as it were)
Enjoy!Making of an army: Da Bandits WAAAGH!!
Nyandre ran through the forest. Ducking branches and jumping roots. Streaking into a clearing her face twisted into a mix of sadness and anger as she saw the bodies laying there motionless. Her kindred, she thought, as she moved closer sorrow clasping her tightly. Her heart sank as she turned the unit leader over revealing the face of;
“Father!” Hugging her father’s lifeless form she willed him to come back, but it was no use. Nyandre looked over the body for some sign of who had done the deed, finding nothing but the leaf charm she had made him years before, she slumped down upon him, rivers of hate and sadness washing over her cheeks. Reclaiming herself, she got up and was about to leave to ask for help with the fallen kindred, she nudged something cold and metallic. The sharp edge of a sword which was, fortunately, facing away, her eyes followed the foreign object to its hilt, where cold and lifeless, a large green hand still clasped at it, as if mocking death itself.
“I shall find this; this handless green abomination, for Athel Loren and my father shall be avenged.” Her voice trembled as she declared this to the trees around her, who seemed to sway in agreement. Ripping off the hand from the weapon she raised it to the sky, examining it before tying it around her waist to always remind her of her quest. The quest to slay the Murderous Orc of Greenskin fame!Meanwhile
As the Ceiling came into vision, Grocknar wiped his blurry eyes, sitting bolt upright he checked his hands for the reason why only one eye was cleared.
“Whut? Where’d my ‘and go?” He shouted in rage, stomping out from his tent. “Oi, you know good gits, where’s my ‘and!” He shouted once more to a group of much smaller Orcs.
“Irk, sorry Boss but those panzees*(Elves) cut it off when they beats ya in dat one-on-one fing youz did.”
“I wasn’t beat, you idjit! It was taktikal know wotz. Wait, did ya lose?” The drum carrying Orc in the mob grinned and ran over.
“Nah, us an’ Da Big Boss sorted ‘em out and carried ya home, cus we’ze need our Champyin, err, you.” Grocknar’s face was now as red; as an Orc can go, with anger.
“So where’s me ‘and?” The musician merely shrugged, “Well let’s go get it!” He raised a Choppa in his one good hand and stormed to the Big Boss’ tent. Outside the tent, the Big Boss was petting his mount, a boar he called Gouga. “Boss, me and my two choppa krew fink we should attack dem elf’s again to find me lost ‘and.”
“Hur hur,” the big boss laughed before punching Grocknar in the face, “You work fer me and go where I say, you mangy git!” Anger swelled in Grocknar as blood dripped from his face, and as swiftly as an Orc can, stabbed the boss in the stomach before bashing him repeatedly with his ‘stump’ and kicking him in several places. Panting heavily, Grocknar realised what he had done. By killing the Big Boss, he himself had become the Big Boss! A grin rose on his face. Returning to the Boys in his army, he shouted to all twenty of them.
“I iz no longer Boss Grocknar, I iz Big Boss Gr-“ Before he finished, a curious event took place, a thought struck him. If I iz da Big Boss I can gives myself a much betta name hur hur, “I iz Da Bandit, and yous are the boyz of Da Bandit’s WAAAGH!” A great cheer came from all the Orcs, raising their dual Choppas in the air, while the two boars attached to the chariot grunted at each other, confused.
To be continued?
Not dead, just sleeping
Ah, Orcs! Gotta love em!
I love how something so small (like losing a minis hand) can suddenly become the basis of the entire army. Inspiration strikes at the strangest of times!
Thanks for posting this, I quite enjoyed the read!