The Ogresuns in Animosity VII - part 4

The Ogresuns rushed through the battleground streets of 2nd House, weaving between streets, allies, canal bridges, and piazas. Avoiding the areas of the worst fighting, sometimes making their route much longer. The made it to the Nebularch Court but diverted a little to a loot a nearby stronghouse.

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“Don’t step on da glyphs!” Wyrdtoof screeched, flailing his staff as the pavement rippled like water, engraved spirals glowing beneath their boots. “They’re thinkin’! You step on ‘em while they’re thinkin’ and they’ll bite yer future clean off!”

Kap’n Salty Ogbad didn’t pause. He stomped across the marble plaza, both pistols barking, scattering a clutch of Wolfram Arkanauts and some unfortunate git in silver armour and blue robes who had been chanting. Somewhere above, the celestite orbs rotated slowly - shifting alignment.

All around, the battle for Nebularch Court raged - Union hammers clashed against Wolfram gunwagons, while the March’s beasts slithered between domed manors, their claws dripping gore. Salty didn’t care, not really.

He had eyes only for the vault beneath the western dome, where Wyrdtoof claimed a stash of glimmerings was locked away - enchanted trinkets that could let them rewrite the outcome of one moment.

“You said dis place was a vault, Wyrdtoof,” Salty shouted, parrying a blade of burning script. “All I see is sparklin’ rocks an’ lads arguin’ over philosophy!”

“It’s a prophecy-bank!” Wyrdtoof hissed. “All da value’s in possibilities. They deposits possible futures!”

An explosion blasted a hole in the vault door.

“Well, my future’s looting it.”

He stormed in. The others followed. Outside, stars aligned. A moment later, they unaligned.

A death-knight from Wolfram roared skyward - falling in a sudden vortex of celestial gravity. Crystals screamed. A gondola sank. And somewhere deep beneath the Nebularch Court, the vaults’ layout… shifted.

The Ogresuns were inside and, whatever came next, they’d already made a withdrawal.

Necropolis Warcry Board, part 1

I've been working on a new set of Warcry scenery, on and off, for over a year: a Necropolis board. It's still nowhere near finished but I realised that I haven't shared even a single WIP photo of it.

At the moment there are only three parts built, out of the five or six I've planned for the set. But one is now painted (after a bit of a misstep and a partial re-undercoat), I think the sand colour looks close enough to the new purple-toned Spearhead board, and the stonework matches the objectives on it.

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Before undercoat this chunk of scenery looked like this:

The ingredients list:

• A block of pink foam forms the core
• Part of a Ruins of Dol Guldur kit forms one end
• Cut-down steps of a small dais from Shattered Stormvault scenery forms the other end
• Part of a mausoleum from the Garden of Morr / Corpsewrack Mausoleum set
• Half a small Ossiarch Bone-tithe Nexus column
• A brazier from the Shattered Stormvault scenery range
• The cracked flagstone pathways are made of 1.5mm plasticard, with the edges carved with a hobby knife

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There's another chunk waiting for paint (I added more flagstones, sanded and undercoated it since taking these photos).

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And a third chunk still in the assembly phase:

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I have plans for some much smaller scatter terrain for this set, like a dead tree and a statue, but I'll get these parts painted up first.

The Ogresuns in Animosity VII - part 3

Wyrdtoof hobbled up the gangplank, robes smoking slightly and eyes wild.

“Kap’n! Kap’n! It worked! It worked maybe a bit too good.”

Kap'n Salty Ogbad looked up from the map, spread out atop the aft chase gun. “What’re ye on about, Wyrdtoof?”

“The feint, skipper! I lit up da celestium like a lamp in a bugstorm, all shaking and humming and sparkling. Gravehunters bit faster’n a hungry squig. Even brought that fancy coffin-walker what smells like burnt roses.”

Ogbad grunted. “So they fell for it?”

“Like a corpse off a cliff. While they were busy lurkin’ in shadows an’ arguin’ over who gets to look moodiest, or whatever it is they do, the Boltbreakerz was free and clear to scupper the train.”

Wyrdtoof hesitated. His left eye twitched.

“But… uh… they did blow up me celestium. Gone. Shattered to glitterin' stardust, with a shrieking noise what still echoes in me teeth." Then half to himself, "I reckon it hated going. Maybe it were alive. Maybe it were me friend.”

He scratched his chin with a gnarled finger. Then he was suddenly animated again:

“But seen things when it went, I did. Visions. Like maps made of stars. There’s more celestium, skipper. Bigger lumps. Ones what dream. We just gotta find 'em afore the skele-boyz do.”

Ogbad spat into the canal.

“Well,” he said, grinning, “I hope they dream o’looting and smashing stuff.”

Wyrdtoof grinned back, sparks crackling from his hair.

“Oh aye, Kap’n. They dreams of WAAAGH.”

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Wyrdtoof had left his celestium lantern under Krashhart's watchful eye while he went to "Have a look at them leylines, yonder."

As expected, the device drew the attention of agents from Wolfram Industries.

Krashhart recognised the Soulblight Vampire leading them, called Tempest, with a growl.

Krashhart rampaged toward him and their heavy, concussive weapons clashed.

The vampire countered the pirate's frenzied assault skilfully, but the hulking orruk overwhelmed him with sheer brute force.

Wyrdtoof and Bad Hook arrived, a little late. Wyrdtoof unleashed a blast of green lightning that took down one of the skeletons bearing a sorcerous device designed to drain the power from Realmstone. 

But a Dreadwarden swept down on the dropped artefact and dragged it to the celestium lantern.

The feedback loop overcharged the Gravehunter's artefact until both it and the celestium lantern disintegrated one-another!

The Ogresuns in Animosity VII - part 2

Dramatis Personae

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Wyrdtoof is part wild prophet, part junk-scavenger, and all pirate. Once marooned on a forgotten metalith island in the hinterlands of northern Thondia, he survived for years on raw cunning, instinct, and stubbornness. His isolation warped his already volatile mind further, deepening his connection to Gorkamorka’s brutal mysticism.

His wild mane of hair and beard dance in an unfelt wild, alive with crackles of unspent Waaagh! energy. His right leg ends in a battered wooden peg, a rough-cut replacement from his time fighting off the monstrous dead things that infest the Harrowmark - he still mutters curses about "da bleedin' grave-things what had too much teefs and not enough skin."

Wyrdtoof wears ragged blue and white striped trousers and a cloak stitched from the scaly hide of a Thondian predator. His staff is a mismatched contraption, parts of several Kharadron navigation tools under the skull of a horned beast, etched with crude glyphs and half-burned sigils, lashed together with string.

His bags bulge with scavenged relics, mostly Kharadron tech - empty aether-canisters, battered tools, broken endrin parts - all of which he claims have “proper mojo if yeh squint at ‘em right.” Some of the Ogresuns are half-convinced he’s got a working thaumaturgic compass in there, but he just grins and cackles if asked.

Wyrdtoof rejoined the Ogresuns in the Harrowmark, descending from the sky aboard the very skyship he lured with a jury-rigged aethergold beacon. Whether it was luck, fate, or the hand of Gork (or possibly Mork), he arrived just in time to fry a vampire with a blast of crackling green energy and cackle:

"Ahoy there ladz! Ya miss me?"

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Kaptain Salty Ogbad leads the Ogresuns. He's a Megaboss with a taste for wild adventures across the Mortal Realms. He must have been in some wild fights and perilous situations since the Harrowmark Run, to have become so massive!

Through Hel and High Water - a Path to Glory Ravaged Coast campaign, part 4

The Rotmoon, 26th day of Sorows

Helbridge

We reach Gnaw’s Edge these week and it as worse as we've expecting. The weathers are unremitting bad, in fact they seems worse by each day. So, we head inland for site of power, where El Doktoro has tell us Emberstone are.

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The blood-hued skies of Aqshy roiled with storm clouds and smoke. Lightning leapt in crimson arcs, striking nearby volcanic ridges with blinding fury, illuminating a narrow land-bridge that jutted across a churning sea. Crusted in soot and salt spray, the Rotmoons charged.

Kapitan Alunzo daLeeva led the way, black coat billowing behind him, gold trimmed armour dull under the ashfall. The blade of his sword, Shipwrecka, seemed to ebb and flow, reacting to the power at the land-bridge’s far side. A brace of battered pistols clanked at his side. Behind him came the others; loud, mad, and hungry.

Palmaz strode along the sand, voice raised in a shanty so horrible the storm itself seemed to wince. El Doktoro the shaman trotted barefoot beside him, red eye-glass lenses glinting like twin embers above his grubby ruff, singing quietly and off tune in a language only he understood. And towering above them all Ogdrog stomped, his massive axe slung over one shoulder, smoke wafting from the muzzle of a Kharadron rifle he'd had modified for use like a pistol.

But theirs was not the only storm to make landfall. From above came the lightning - true lightning, shot from the heavens - and in its wake came the Stormcast Eternals, gold-clad sentinels of Azyr. Both warbands had the same aim, albeit with different motivation: to reach the sacred ground at the far side of the land bridge and hold it against all comers.

There would be no flanks, no escape, and no room for subtlety. Just orruk steel, celestial wrath, and a causeway too narrow for anything but blood.

A binding of Soulsworn Questors translocated, from their lightning-borne arrival point, to the sacred ground objective.

The Weirdbrute Wrekkaz rushed ahead of the rest of the Rotmoons. Eager as always to start the fight. The Oddmoonz raced in front, but the Weirdmoonz were close on their heals.

Ogdrog and Roggriguez's Brutes made short work of the Vanquishers who had struggled to cover ground in claggy sand.

The rest of the crew did their best to keep up, but something moving through the smoke behind them caught their attention.

El Doktoro cast Bash'em Ladz on the Oddmoonz and Ogdrog roared encouragement: Both the Wrekkerz mobs charged and crashed into the Soulsworn (despite the craftily giving ground to confound the Wrekkaz)

Accompanied by the clash of weapons and armour Palmaz' shanty rang out across the battlefield, casualties fell on both sides, but the Wrekkaz wounds knitted closed and they leapt back into the fight. Soulsworn held their position despite atrrition slowly eating away their advantage.

Supported by El Doktoro's magicks, Dragante's watch turned, and ploughed into the Prosecutors who'd appeared behind them, dropping out of the storm.

A dragon swooped toward Bortagno's watch, as the Stormcast were reinforced by a band of Annihilators who translocated onto the only Emberstone Cluster in sight. But they abandoned it, without harvesting the precious realmstone shards, and thundered into Ogdrog and his hefty ladz.

Vigilors struggled through claggy sand to close on the pirates, but they peppered them with arrows from long range.

The Oddmoonz took advantage of the cover provided by a squall of soot rain and disengaged from the Soulsworn. 

They'd spotted the Annihilators moving away from the Emberstone and sprinted to claim it for themselves.

(The Annihilators headed for the sacred ground after they dealt with their first quarry, but that had nothing to do with the Oddmoonz choice....)

Even without them, the Weirdmoonz felled the last of the tenacious Soulsworn and captured the sacred ground.

The last Prosecutor fell and Dragante urged his watch to regroup and help their shipmates.

While El Doktoro and the dragon rider exchanged blasts of magical fire, Kapitan daLeeva dived for cover behind the rocks...

... as the dragon took a deep in-breath.

Dragante's watch were again hit by Vigilors' arrows, but either most glanced off armour or were redirected by the pirate's lucky trinkets.

So bows were swapped for swords.

The dragon swept around the rocks and Kapitan daLeeva charged! He drove Shipwrecka deep into the beast, wounding it severely.

But he was immediately swathed in a jet of seering flame...

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The Stormcast had gained the upper hand: Their losses were less significant than the Rotmoons' overall. When the Annihilators re-took the sacred ground, it was clear the pirates would continue to be worn-down if they attempted to contest it again.

So Palmaz called for a retreat, and the Rotmoons fell back to the ship with (a not insignificant) three shards of Emberstone in-hand.

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Opponent: Daniel

Faction: Stormcast Eternals

Battleplan: Storm the Land Bridge (1 Objective)

Twist: Ash Storm

Emberstone Clusters: 1

Points Values: 1290 vs. 1720 (Stormcast stalled reinforcements = 230+ points)

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Result Loss

Added to Emberstone Vault +1 shard from the captured cluster, +2 from the post-battle D3 roll.

Total Emberstone Shards Gained Overall = 12

Campaign Battles Fought = 4

The Ogresuns in Animosity VII - part 1

Prologue

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The pile of barrels, chests, trunks, strong-boxes, bags and boxes was impressive, Wyrdtoof had to admit. The last few prizes had been reasonably good: their crews had been small and the fights brief but enjoyable. The Ogresuns were in good spirits as a result.

In the dark of the Ogresuns’ hold, the small lantern hanging from the beams overhead swayed and shadows lurched.

Wyrdtoof put a gnarled hand on something to steady himself, but the deck, beneath his good foot and his pegleg, lurched and he over-balanced.

He swore loudly and creatively as he fought to regain his feet.

“What in blasted-hells is going on!?” he roared.

Fishgutz appeared, through the hatch above and slid down, boots and gnarled hands on the outside of the companion-ladder.

“Boss, there’s something going on what you should see, like.” he said nervously as he helped the shaman to his feet.

“Eh?” said Wyrdtoof, trying to recover his thoughts. But Fishgutz had already gone, running back up the ladder in a flash.

Wyrdtoof suddenly noticed the sound of the voices on deck. The mood of the ship was shifting: He could feel it in his bones.

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When he emerged from the hatch, into the cold night air, the light on deck was weirdly blue: an extremely unusual colour in Aqshy.

“What’s amiss?” he called in a loud voice, loud enough to cut through the noise of the crew’s excited chatter.

Kaptain Salty Ogbad looked over at him, standing by the rail on the wide quarterdeck, the megaboss towered over the rest of the crew, even the massive Brutes. He waved Wyrdtoof forward and the crew quietened down. They all wanted to hear what was about to be said; none of them even tried to hide their curiosity.

Ogbad passed his large spyglass to Wyrdtoof as the shaman hobbled forward (after he was helped up the quarterdeck stairs, by a series of grinning pirates - most of them newcomers he didn’t recognise). The shaman took the glass and pointed it in the direction Ogbad indicated with a jerk of his chin.

The deck pitched again but Ogbad grabbed Wyrdtoof’s shoulder to steady him. The source of the blue light was clear. A swirling portal hung in the air over the surface of the river a few hundred yards away. The other side of the pulsating, unstable, gateway was clearly visible through the spyglass: a wide fertile valley, a vast city in a clear blue lake, and a jagged mountain range in the distance beyond.

There was more though. It was clearly daytime in the valley on the other side, but the sky was black and strewn with uncountable stars, blazing comets, and half a dozen unnaturally colourful moons.

The ship was closing on the portal, every minute that passed reduced the distance by a dozen yards or more.

“Where d’you reckon it goes, old friend?” said Ogbad quietly.

Wyrdtoof considered in silence for a long while before he answered.

“Well. It ain’t nowhere we been afore. Not none of us.”

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https://animositycampaigns.com/campaign-setting-vii 

The Ironfang Pirate Fleet - The Ogresuns, part 3

Gomm (armed with a crusha), Bikk and Urra (armed with gore-choppas)

Whenever the Brute Ragerz aboard the Ogresun are let off the leash, they'll hurl themselves at the biggest and meanest foes in sight, swinging huge two-handed weapons with brutal force and wild, reckless abandon. No-one bothers to explain strategy or plans to them anymore. The crew long ago resigned themselves to simply pointing the Ragerz in roughly the right direction and just letting them get on with it.

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Gomm

Gomm appears to be the leader of the small group, but the frothing berserkers' aren't really following his commands; they simply happen to head in the direction Gomm runs and attack the same enemy. His kraken tattoo is a memento of his time with the Skwidmunchaz, but he doesn't remember anything about that adventure.

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Bikk

Bikk drinks far too much, even while "working". But its not like anyone has a problem with it. Far from it in fact; when he's sleeping it off he doesn't need anyone to keep him out of trouble.

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Urra

Urra is surprisingly sneaky for all his unbridled aggression. He fights really dirty and takes grim pleasure from it.

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Whoops, I seem to have made a second Ironjawz Spearhead!

I haven't actually played a game of Spearhead yet, but it's unexpectedly satisfying to put together a "finished" force. When you have list building options its always tempting to add more units to an army. But with a Spearhead there's a definite "end-point".