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Orksvent Day 16 - Heralds of Tuska

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The story of WAAGH! Drillteef continues.  This excerpt follows the failed campaign against Ultima Segmentum detailed during my 2014 games before the new Ork Codex was released.  This sets up the future campaigns and tournaments I'll be playing in 2015...


Failure and Desparation


WAAGH! Drillteef spent the months after their losses at Ultima Segmentum limping from system to system heading in a general Galactic East course.  Of course, they amused themselves by raiding a world or two, but the Warlord's heart was just not into full-fledged conquest.  Flotillas of Kroozers disappeared now and again... some heeding the clarion call of Ghazghkull while others sought fortunes for themselves. 

Of course, Dok Drillteef's closest and greediest generals stayed true and none of the Oddboy warlords dared leave. Of course, Big Mek Skar'ead long ago swore he would die in the Dok's service and he planned to hold himself to that vow. His loyalty was rare for an Ork and the Big Mek realized it.  Perhaps it was his cybernetics.  Perhaps it was his longevity.  He wasn't sure, but he had a rather un-Orky way of calculating risks before taking his actions.  What's more, he'd become an expert at calculating the risk of his Warlord's actions as well.  One of those risks which Skar'ead was beginning to regret not taking action against was the Dok's sudden interest in Weirdboyz.

One Weirdboy in particular, Old Greg, was to be found more and more frequently in the counsel of Drillteef.  He claimed to have visions of Tuska and this interested Drillteef greatly.  It gave Skar'ead great pause.

Throughout the Ultima Campaign, Drillteef had made several attempts to summon forth the ancient and powerful Warboss, Tuska, from his blood world in the Warp through the power of music and slaughter.  Drillteef had surmised that, with the might of Tuska, no one could stand before his mighty WAAGH! It seemed as if it had never occurred to Drillteef that even if Tuska existed in the first place, he might, instead, be the one to take over WAAGH! Drillteef for hismself.  At least, if it did occur to him, the Dok's hubris didn't allow him to believe Tuska would succeed at such an action. Skar'ead's broken, calculating mind did not hold much hope in that logic.

It was after a particularly successful raid upon an 'Umie deep space station that Skar'ead found himself making repairs to some equipment on the bridge of the warlord's flagship, Da Grimtusk.  Old Greg had his head strapped into the Fink 'n Go (which, Skar'ead knew, was connected directly to the brains of the Weirdboy Chorus in the belly of the fat vessel.  "Where we goin', boss?" the Weirdboy inqired.  It was his job to find the path in the immaterium for the fleet's looted Warp-capable Kroozers to follow 

"Dunno," Drillteef's malaise was thick and Skar'ead could feel it affecting the Orks around him.  He should be deep into a barrel of Squig Ale right now toasting to their successful raid, not staring wistfully out of a viewport.

"I got a feelin, boss."

"Yar?"

"Yar,"  Old Greg's eyes glowed a pale green and he grinned, "I seen him."

"Tuska?" the boss' sagged stature straightened.

"Yeah boss.  He fights and fights. Day in and day out. Da most glorious battle ya ever fought but better and he's doin' it every day."

"Dats wot da stories say."

"It ain't no rumor.  I sees it.  In me eye.  I sees it as plain as da doubt on ol Skar'ead's brainz,"  he chuckled.

It was said that Old Greg saw all.  Skar'ead scowled at the Weirdboy behind his back, be damned if the warp-touched Ork knew he was doing it or not.  Drillteef, for his part, ignored the jab.  "We need ter show Tuska dat dere's a better fight here!"

"Nay, boss. Dat's wot we were finkin but we was wrong.  We was dead wrong. No one fight is better'n fighting all day every day ever ever.  Da best battle in da best WAAGH! in history ain't no better'n fightin a great battle every single day and gettin' to come back after yer dead and doin it again.  What can beat dat?"

The Dok frowned deeply.  He didn't even take time to think about it.  "Noffink."

"I knew you was trig, boss. Dats dead right. Dead right. Noffink is better."

"But I ain't gonna quit."

"Course we ain't gonna quit, boss!"

Skar'ead didn't like that "we".

"What we doin' then?"

Skar'ead liked his boss asking that question of the gangly, stringy Weirdboy even less.

"We make him come.  We bring him here. We make him ours!"

Dok Drillteef's red eyes widened. He cast a gaze down at the smaller Ork.  "You can do dis fing?"

"I done it... wiv... little 'uns."

"Little Tuskas?"

"Sorta, boss. Boyz wot was wiv Tuska.  I brings em 'ere wiv us an' dey fights fer us. I done it on da 'Umie space rok."

"How you know dey waz wiv Tuska?"  The boss was trig and Skar'ead was glad to see he wasn't going to take the Weirdboy's words at face value.

Dey were changed, boss.  Changed somefink strange.  Red skin. Glowin' choppaz. Glowin' eyes, boss. An da best part wuz I sez do dis and dey does it.  I sez do dat and dey does dat, too.  If we can be strong, we can bring over Tuska, too, and all his boyz.  Bring em over and dey do wot we sez."

"Hur hur hur," the boss chortled.  Even with Skar'ead's doubts clouding his mind, it was good to hear mirth in his boss' voice once more. The boyz on the bridge joined in and soon even the Gretchin scurrying about were giggling.  Skar'ead felt the strange, gutteral instinct to laugh, too.  And laugh, he did. Hope sprung in his Orky heart.

"I kin feel da whole WAAGH! larfin wiv ya, boss," Old Greg announced, "kin you?"

"Yar. We will take what we need to make the blood Orks ours and Tuska will be my General!"

"Dat's right, boss. Dat's right. But we need to go far ta get it!"

"I will take us wherever whenever."

"Da boyz will take us.  Tell 'em, boss. Tell da boyz wot we wants. Wot we's gonna do. We need it on every Ork's brainz, every Ork's lips!  If yer kin do that, I kin find it for us, boss. I kin lead us there!" The Weirdboy's gangly arm thumped his own bony chest which rattled with fetishes, bones, teef, and feathers.

Drillteef nodded and rose up, "Vergood, Old Greg. Vergood. But one fink you'll be rememberin' now.... I's leadin' us.  Dok Drillteef iz da Warlord.  Old Greg iz da Boy who finds a way to make us win, not da Boy who wins.  I tell Tuska wot to do. I lead da Boyz.  You fight an kill an bring Tuska. Never ferget.  Say it so yer don't ferget!"

"Aye, boss.  Of course. You are da boss," the Weirdboy appeared cowed, but there was a touch of malice in his intense, glowing eyes.

As Big Mek Skar'ead cranked the fleet-wide talk-box to life, he grinned, all teeth.  He even took a moment to tip a dangerous wink at Old Greg who, Skar'ead was fairly certain, would never forget it. He didn't care at the moment.  As his boss blared his intentions into the talk-box, he felt relief wash over him  as the WAAGH! once again found purpose. Every Ork's mind and ambition was suddenly bent to one cause.  Although Skar'ead trusted very little in the machinations of Weirdboyz, he knew that this communal purpose would magnify the Weirdboy's sight and clarity many-fold.

Old Greg's eyes flared ever brighter as he gazed into the star-spangled void.  "Eeeuuggggh. I seez it. I ken it all.  Allit. Yarrrrr.......!"

He was silent for a while, though they could all feel his power baking off him in waves.

"My lord," the Weirdboy's voice had gone... wrong, "My lord, our destination is clear.  A Tome lies at the heart of a scriptorum!  A tome of fel faces," the Ork's pitch grew urgent and his tone fearful, "It is sought by others as well. Whispers in the Void. A bloody, black raven soars at the fore of battle while a pale-armored knight in the guise of a coiled asp waits to strike....!"  He was hysterical.

The boss barely registered the Weirdboy's fear, "Where? Tell me, damn ye! Where iz it?"

One word slobbered out of the Weirdboy's lips before he lost consciousness, "Pakeshi."



WAAGH! Tuska


It is past time that I started working on this project.  After my last two commissions for Frontline are done and the Titans are finished, I plan on starting Tuska.  This will be, at first, simply some daemons to summon for my Orks, but will eventually develop into a full-fledged Khorne Daemon army.  I know I've been talking about this for a long time, but I think this is all coming to a head now.

I'll be folding the emergence of Tuska into the upcoming Combat Patrol league we're having at the store and also my games at Adepticon.  I also want to run some short campaigns with Jason and his Blood Ravens and John with his Grey Knights as the Orks attempt to summon forth Tuska from the Warp. The idea is to have the storyline complete by the end of 2015.


Herald of Tuska Combat Patrol List


We are still hammering out the details of our Combat Patrol rules, but Adepticon hasn't released their rules yet, so I'm going to go with this tentative list until then.

400 Pts - Codex: Orks Roster - Herald of Tuska

HQ: Weirdboy (1#, 70 pts)
   1 Weirdboy, 70 pts (Warlord, Mastery Level 2)

Elite: Kommandos (11#, 155 pts)
   10 Kommandos, 155 pts (Burna x2)
      1 Boss Nob (Bosspole)

Troops: Boyz (13#, 115 pts)
   12 Boyz, 115 pts (Shoota; Rokkit Launcha x1)
      1 Boss Nob (Bosspole; Big Choppa)

Fast Attack: Deffkoptas (1#, 30 pts)
   1 Deffkoptas, 30 pts (Twin-linked Rokkit Launcha x1)

Fast Attack: Deffkoptas (1#, 30 pts)
   1 Deffkoptas, 30 pts (Twin-linked Rokkit Launcha x1)


I figure this will do a great job of representing a small force lead by a weirdboy on the hunt for evidence to lead WAAGH! Drillteef to the Tome of Fel Faces.



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