Throndin’s Enormous Throng

Kraznik Ironbeard grumbled to himself as he hurried along the ridgeway path looking for Thrum Greymane. Why had the old fool chosen today to go wandering off in the foothills? Why wasn’t he back at the hold with the rest of the Clan? That way Kraznik could be checking his armour and making his farewells to his family rather than hunting half-way across the Grey Mountains for him.
He rounded an outcrop and slowed his pace as he approached two seated Dwarfs- after all he was Captain of the Clan Groznog Hammerers and had his dignity to maintain. Neither of the figures ahead of him was Greymane, but they should be able to at least help him locate the errant Dwarf.
The two Dwarfs were deep in contemplation and puffing furiously on pipes and so didn’t hear the Hammerer approach.
“So when you’ve got it in a tight grip” the older of the two was explaining “you take a firm hold of the haunches and…”
Kraznik cleared his throat. The two leaped to their feet as if they’d sat on a hot steam plate.
“Captain Kraznik!” the younger Dwarf exclaimed, blushing furiously “We didn’t hear you, sir!”
“Evidently not. Young Blundin Thringg isn’t it?” The Dwarf nodded, his face as red as his jacket.
“I was just explaining to this beardling how to…er…milk, that’s it, milk a goat, sir” interjected the older Dwarf.
“Were you now, Drim Copperhead?” the Hammerer raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly are the two of you doing out here?”
“We came for a walk with Thrum Greymane, Captain. Get some fresh air, that kind of thing…” the old Dwarf tailed off
“And where is Greymane, I need to speak with him” Kraznik demanded
Blundin opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a cry of pain.
“Sorry beardling, was that your foot?” Drim enquired with a meaningful stare.
“He’s just gone for a… er… walk, sir” the older Dwarf continued.
Just then a strange cry split the air. The Hammerer instinctively reached for the weapon strung across is back.
What in the name of Grungni was that?” he cried
“What was what?” asked Copperhead
“That terrible noise you fool, or are you deaf as well as foolish? It sounded like a goat, but a goat in some distress” The Hammerer scanned the direction from which the sound ad emerged. Suddenly Drim went rigid and, pointing in the opposite direction, yelled “TROLL!” at the top of his lungs.
Kraznik span around, hammer at the ready seeking out the deadly foe.
“Oh no, it’s just a rock. Silly me” said Drim Copperhead.
Kraznik was just about to launch into a tirade at the older Dwarf when the bushes behind him parted and a dishevelled looking Dwarf emerged.
“Right then Thringg, your tur…oh, hello Ironbeard, fancy meeting you here”
The new arrival looked flustered and out of breath
“Greymane, at last” barked the Hammerer “Where have you been?”
“Well, er…I…that is…er…”
“Look, never mind that now” Kraznik continued “Throndin has called out the Throng! Gather your men together, we march at dawn! To WAR!”
His message delivered Kraznik Ironbeard turned on his heel and set off back the way he had come.
“Oh, and don’t forget to fasten your trousers before you go see Throndin” he called back over his shoulder.

This is the background what I wrote for my Dwarf army that I took to the winter Throne of Skulls Tournamanet a couple of months ago.
And here are the models (click for bigger and better pics):

Lord Throndin Groznog

Army Standard Bearer Grimm Grobismite

Runesmith Krut Goldseek

The Clan Groznog Warriors 

The Groznog Thunderers

The Groznog Quarrelers

The Groznog Venerables 

Throndin’s Hammers 

Steely Dan

Moriz’s Miners 

The Leveller 

Turn Counter

I came last out of the assembled Dwarf players (all four of us) but had five very pleasant games of WFB. Despite all wailing and gnashing of teeth from th'interweb comunity about the Powerscroll Spam, Magic Dominated, cheese-fest of uncomped 8th edition  I didn't see or hear of a single power scroll and most of the armies seemed pretty balanced and sensible. I was however pretty disapointed with the numebr of participants and the standard of painting, both of which seemed lower than the old GW GT's.

Brother Against Brother

A morning in early summer 1863 somewhere in the Blasthoff valley...
The Union army of General Abner Badday has been blundering around for some time trying to track down the Rebel army led by the hard-fighting Hiram P Fudpucker III. At last it seems the two armies may well finally get to grips with one another and both sides send forward scouting forces to probe the enemy defences. As the early morning mist clears Lieutenant Rufus Hudson leads a small force of men into lightly wooded  terrain on one flank of the Union army, little does he suspect that a small band of Texans has been sent to scout the same area...

I've been painting some Perry ACW Blue and Grey men recently and the boys wanted to play a game of soldiers after school last week, so I set up a simple fight for them. I thought I was going to have to play, but in the end they decided to take each other on in proper brother against brother tradition.
We used the Legends of the Old West rules, using the infantry list from Blood on the Plains but with equipment restricted to muskets and bayonets for the men and heavy pistols for the officers. To keep is simple I ignored all the Fate and Might (or whatever they're called in LotOW) and assumed that the officer just had an extra pip of leadership. Sadly I'd fallen behind with painting so the elder offspring had to make do with a mere seven of the grey men against his brothers nine including an officer. To try to off-set the difference in numbers I declared that the Rebel Yell meant he'd get +1 on his combat rolls as long as he charged.
With that, we were off.

Johnny Reb

Johnny Blue

View from behind Union lines

View from the Rebel side

On their right the Union advanced on the rock formation known as Webster's Knob 

To their left Hudson led them to the fence

The rebels made for a wood on their left

And hugged the treeline on their right

 Leading from the front Lieutenant Hudson advanced behind a large rocky outcrop

 And was shot at. A lot.

Meanwhile his men siezed the nearby hill known as Little Flat-Top

Fierce hand to hand broke out near Webster's Knob

After a sharp exchange of fire the Union forces charged from Little Flat-Top and got stuck in!

Repeated pot-shots kept Hudson pinned down behind the rock that now bears his name

In the end numbers told. The Rebs got lots of hits but few wounds. Hudson kept failing his pluck and hiding behind the rock but the Union men managed to pick off a couple of confederates with just a single loss themselves. When it came to hand to hand the rebels rolled so low that even +1 for charging didn't help, so they soon lost the four required to start testing and had to "head for the hills" not long after.
The rules were fun and the boys seemed to enjoy it, though eldest son (who took the rebels) has clearly inherited his dad's knack with dice.

Teeny Tiny Huscarls

I painted these some time ago, but only just got round to basing and photographing them. And I'm rather pleased with them, especially the shields, hence the plethora of rear shots (ooer!)
Pendraken Miniatures Huscarls. Bringing the total painted units up to three!. Though I did spray another unit brown last week - should be finished early November then.
A pleasure to paint, though the pose is a little odd and hunched up. I also put ten on a base for these which is a bit crowded in retrospect.
(Click the pics and they'll probably get bigger. Photographing these is a bit of a pain TBH)