The more eagle eyed among you will have noticed my new Avatar and the seriously observant may have even noticed that Viera's matches, as does her signature. Heavily inspired by Uryens de Crux and Padre's CVM (have a look on Warhammer Empire or the Animosity Site where they post as van Haagen and van Riekert if you are interested, it's well worth a peek), Viera and I have been pondering a way to integrate our own fluff. This was done mostly with Campaigns in mind, where we could have a lot of fun fighting under a single banner, but also for some fun modelling and gaming opportunities.

We needed something that fit with my all mounted army and Viera's Orc Warband for Mordheim but we didn't want to simply have an alliance between Greenskin tribes as that's a bit dull. We also wanted to avoid the usual fluff formula of endless tales about the mighty Orc bash n smash with some Goblin slapstick comedy thrown in. Fun as that is, you see it a lot so we wanted to try a different approach. The result is Da Ghostz.



Da Wut?

Exactly. Da Ghostz are a Greenskin light assault force, a bit of a deviation from the standard heavy hitting footslogger army. Primarily an all mounted force their approach can best be described as sneaky. While Greenskins will never be masters of stealth by any stretch of the imagination, Da Ghostz specialize in lightning fast raids on unsuspecting targets, often at night. Not above using devious tactics like coating themselves in coal dust for night time assaults, Da Ghostz enjoy a mixed reputation among other Greenskins as a result. Most view Da Ghostz as rather odd creatures to be pitied - Orcs who don't know the joy of just getting stuck in. Some even accuse them of outright cowardice, but even their most enthusiastic critics cannot find fault with their results.

Da Whoo?

We wanted to avoid both of us having a Warboss character so after a proper Orcy brawl we decided Draig would lead Da Ghostz while Gribbly, Viera's Orc character, would be the Battle Standard bearer. We'll be fleshing out both characters a bit in the future, but with both of them we want to explore different angles than the usual invincible Orc, so hopefully we'll have plenty of interesting things to write about.

Anyone who has read Draig's background (see the link in my sig if you're interested) knows he's a bit unhinged. Obsessed with not dying and possessing an Axe that is itself possessed by a rather rubbish demon who talks to him, I tend to use the Azhag rules as they fit him pretty well.

Gribbly is a bit different, some might say special. He is remarkably free of tact and no one really knows why Draig keeps him around. He is a brutally efficient warrior for sure, but this goes hand in hand with his spectacular clumsiness.

No one really knows what Da Ghostz are after. They wander about a lot, getting involved in skirmishes and wars along the way as they seem to have a knack for finding trouble. Some say that Draig is simply looking for the place he came from only he has forgotten exactly where it is. Others say he is trying to find a way to silence the voices in his head. Whatever he's up to he keeps it to himself.

Anyway, that's it for now. We'll do the rest as we go via fluff and various other things in this thread after A4 is done consuming all our spare time!

*Tries to claw back her free time.* Must.. write.. funny fluff.. instead of bloody.. riddles and metaphores to confuse the players *cackles*

Yep, I really wish you would stop writing bloody riddles and metaphors :o


Anywho, great stuff guys. I'm really liking the sound of this project, and that banner's lovely :wub:

Cheeky Git. Just you wait for the next batch of FH letters to go out!

Ok.. part 1 of my new years resolution. To cover my own back here.... I've never written more then 250 words of greenskin fluff in the past, let alone anything involving kislevites. However this is the first small part of this ongoing fluff project. Just a little taster of what is to come while I find my greenie writting feet! Hope you all enjoy it and as always comments and suggestions are always welcome.






The crunch of snow under heavy boot was unavoidable as Gribbly moved quickly through the forest, his long loping strides devouring the ground as he ran. The gitz behind him were struggling to keep up, some slipping and sliding on the hard packed snow, but Gribbly didn't care. The harder they had to run, the less likely they were to talk and the less likely they were to talk, the less likely they were to take chunks out of each other. And with what was pursuing them, that was the last thing... Gribbly felt his foot impact with a patch of black ice. As it shot out from under him and the world turned itself upside down, he felt his mind flash back over the past four hours. His right arm flailed out...

****

… and connected with Urtyrunt, knocking the savage orc down onto the oversized log. As the orcs rump connected with the hollow wood, there was a snap and he fell further, propelling the opposite end of the log two foot into the air. Unfortunately for Sixa, this meant he was sent flailing in an arc to connect with a dull thump against Gribbly's chest. The orc looked down at the small shaman he now cradled in his arms.

“Derez da git I woz lookin fer. Youz sed Draig sent ya?” The Goblin nodded as Gribbly continued, a smile turning the corners of his mouth up. “Gud! Weze been waitin for joo zoggin lot ta get 'ere fer ages now. Gud ta go?”

Sixa shook his head. “Draig sez weze goin 'ome. Da portentz iz bad an da gitz sed deyz moved da goodz on already.”

The goblin squirmed about in the hulking orcs arms and was promptly dropped as his staff connected with a solid whack on Gribbly's head. Silence descended on the camp as everyone stopped and stared, waiting expectantly for the orc to tear the insolent shaman in half. The expected bloodshed never came as a horn sounded close by. The deep sound echoed through the closely packed tree's and higher pitched screams joined it as the sound washed over the frozen encampment. The spell was broken as a goblin guard barrelled into the clearing, it's high pitched squeals cut short as the tip of a sabre exploded through it's chest.

The orcs exploded into action. Urtyrunt hauled himself from the log and raced towards the lone rider, already the killing frenzy descending on him as he yanked his choppers from their back sheaths. Gribbly whirled on the spot, one large hand grabbing the shaman by the scruff of the neck and the other slapping aside two orcs as he took a step towards the banner planted in the middle of the clearing. His gaze fixed on his goal, his brain almost failed to register his blurred vision of the clearing beyond the banner pole.

As Urtyrunt and his savage boys reached the lone rider, the woodland behind the kislevite exploded. Thunder rolled out over the clearing as billowing black smoke suddenly blocked all view of the tree's, hand gun shot thudded home into the charging orcs, the firers unable to miss at such a close range. As the disorganized front rank of orcs went down, collapsing into pools of their own blood mixed with the slush of snow, the charge faltered as the orcs behind struggled to move through the bodies of their fellow orcs. Before they could recover, horsemen materialised to their left, lancing out from the trees into the open ground and slashing through the remaining orc ranks like a hot knife through the snow they stood upon.

Gribbly stopped, the banner only a few feet from him now, his eye's snapping into focus on the fight beyond. His lips pulled back into a snarl of frustration as the original rider pointed to him and shouted something inaudible over the clash of sabre on choppa and guttural yell of felled orc. Whirling again, Sixa giving a yelp of surprise at the sudden change of direction, Gribbly turned and ran. As he sped from the clearing, his brow furrowed in thought, he glanced behind him. The last thing he saw as he hit the tree line was a gaudily dressed rider reaching the banner he had left behind and yanking the tattered rag on a pole from the ground.

*****

Gribbly's mind slowly returned to the present, the pain in his hand sharpening his senses as he shifted beneath the snow that had buried him. His right hand had connected with a tree as he had slipped, a sheet of snow falling from it's branches as it's trunk had reverberated with the blow, covering the orc and his goblin cargo in a matter of moments. He struggled, groping upwards as he acknowledged his sudden need for air, feeling what little was left in his lungs begin to burn at his throat. As his head broke the surface, he tensed with shock, not even daring to take more then the shallowest of breaths as he stared fixated at the scene before him.

Humans with horses milled about before him, some keeping their animals moving, others cleaning blood from their flanks. He could see splashes of gore bright against the snow, and the smell of burning orc flesh drifted to him on the wind. As he watched and gathered what information he could, voices reached him from a group of riders standing close by with their backs to him.

The first voice he heard was high, female, and did not hold the same harsh accent as the other voices that reached him. “Congratulations Commander, Boyar. Your men fought well against this taint today.”

A males voice came next, young like the females and full of confidence. “Spasiba! Thank you! It vas vith your coming zat ve can now fight these ghosts, these undead orcs, Vitch Hoonter. Ve would not have had the day vithout your guidence! Now ve hunt on.”

An older male voice spoke up quickly, the rich deep tones of his voice causing the men to stop and look towards him expectantly. “Nyet, my Boyar. Men need rest, horses need rest. Ve hunt on and ve risk undoing your victory.”

As Gribbly watched, one of the figures bristled at these words, turning his horse about on the spot as his young face flushed with anger. The female, her long coat and hat hiding much of her figure and face, reached out a hand to touch the man's arm. Some words Gribbly could not hear passed between them and with a curt nod the younger man wheeled his horse and rode back towards the forest. The woman tossed a shrug towards the final figure and rode after the man. As Gribbly shifted preparing to pull himself out of the snow, the older man raked his gaze around the forest, forcing the orc to freeze. The man's storm grey eye's flowed over the snow, his weathered face pinched tight in a frown as he searched for something unknown. In that moment, Gribbly knew who it was that had orchestrated the attack on his camp. Every move the man made was exact, no unnecessary movement and no energy wasted, his entire being seemed to flow from one moment to the next like a falcon hunting it's prey.

It was a few hours before Gribbly moved, Sixa the goblin pinned to his side. Yet when he finally did move, when he finally dug himself from the snow and started his long loping run towards Draig's last known position, his mind was focused on one fact. He had to tell Draig about the coming of a hunter, he had to tell Draig that Old Grey Eyes was once again in their land.

Good to see the fluff starting with a time honoured Greenskin 'tactical' withdrawal, although I sense revenge is in the air. This should be really intersting; It's just a shame that git Sixa survived. Maybe next time, his life expectancy can't be that long given the nature of the Orc and Goblin miscast table.

Awesome stuff Vee, can't wait to see how these characters get fleshed out. You really did some work on the rough outline we had. Your writing is improving in leaps and bounds too! When can we expect Part II? :yarr!:

Sixa's going to be nursing some bruised ribs for a while...

Great stuff, V. You really captured this scene and background well. I love it! This is an interesting concept, Draig and V. Can't wait to see the next installment!

Goomb