Monday, 8 July 2013
Waaagh! Gruzzkup and the Invasion of Ulthuan
In the Imperial Year 2522 Warlord Gruzzkup of the Dragonback Mountains was visited by a vision from Mork. Or possibly Gork. The great green god (or maybe his brother) told him to build a mighty boat and build it on top of Nosebite hill. Knowing better than to doubt the will of Gork (or perhaps Mork) the warboss summoned the tribe and ordered a boat be built. Although many of the assembled greenies openly mocked Gruzzkup and questioned his wisdom a short bout of extreme violence so typical of the Warlord soon convinced them that boat building was the best way forward. At least until someone could knife him in the back.
So the boat building began and soon the whole tribe were gripped in a mighty frenzy and the woods for miles around were levelled as not one but many ramshackle boats sprang up all over Nosebite hills
At last Gruzzkup's mighty war barge was finished and he and his closest lads withdrew to await whatever Gork, or Mork decided.
At first nothing happened. The greenskins sat in their boats on the side of a hill and waited. Other tribes occasionally came by to laugh at them. Some tried to leave but Gruzzkup’s boar boys hunted them down like vermin and dragged their remains back to the hill.
Finally just as even the Big Uns were beginning to doubt their leader and were drawing lots to see who would challenge him the skies began to darken.
A wind such as had never before been felt began to howl around the valley, green lightning flashed across the skies and the tribe gripped their rowlocks tight and shouted for Gork and Mork. Finally as the storm reached its height a huge rushing sound could be heard and down the valley a vast green tidal wave raced toward Nosebite hill. The wave broke across the hill and the boats of Gruzzkup and his boys were enveloped in a tumultuous rush of water.
No-one, especially not the Orcs who are never good at estimating such things, could tell how long the storm blew. It could have been hours, days or weeks. However as suddenly as it had begun it blew itself out.
Hauling himself up from below decks Gruzzkup ventured out on deck.
Around him the sea was covered with wreckage and bodies and more than few battered but still seaworthy hulks. As he pondered what the gods had decided for him a shout went up from a keen sighted Goblin “ Land boss, land dataway!”
“Waddya all waiting for?” the Warlord roared “Get da oarz out and row”
And so it was that Waagh Gruzzkup fell upon the shores of an unsuspecting Ulthuan.
It was not long before watching elves spied the assembled warfleet beaching on the shores. As spears and bows were readied swift riders mounted up and rode to summon reinforcements. War had come to the land of Ulthuan and the greenskins must be repelled!
Under the influence of the mighty Gork (or possibly Mork) Warlord Gruzzkup and his army have washed up on a remote corner of Ulthuan. Much of the Elven warhost is away, fighting Daemons and their Dark Elf allies in the north of the land, so but a small force remains to repel the invaders. Reinforcements have been sent for but will take time to arrive.
There are two things counting the High Elves favour. Firstly the storms have scattered the greenskins and it will take time for them to assemble and bring their full power to bear. Secondly the geography of the region with impassable mountain ranges reaching down to the sea shore means the Waagh must fight its way through a narrow pass before it can fall upon the interior of Ulthuan. For Eldric of the Dawn Fortress the future is clear. He must delay the Orcs and defeat them at Emerald Pass. Failure cannot be contemplated.
So begins our new Warhammer Campaign in which I shall be throwing myself into the role of Warlord Gruzzkup as he attempts to bring Ulthuan to its knees. Or at least have a few good punch-ups while he tries.