WAAAGH! BATTLE STORIES

- WAAAAGH! Megaboss Kragbag Drabklubba’s Siege of The Citadel of Nightmaress
-WAAAGH! Against Ravengate
-WAAAGH! Against the Silverhold
-The Fungorn Defense
-Great Waagh Kargatu razes the Bitter Coast

WAAAAGH! Megaboss Kragbag Drabklubba’s Siege of The Citadel of Nightmares

Thousands of Orruks perished before one found the path to the gates, hundreds more still fell into the abyss trying to catch up to that lone Savage Orruk. The winding chain bridge to the Citadel of Nightmares had fulfilled its purpose magnificently, it was luck alone that allowed the Orruks to begin amassing at the gates. In fact, it was incredible luck that the WAAAGH even managed to land on the Isle of Shadow and Death…

Huge barbed bolts flew through the Orruk ranks, slaying dozens at a time. The forces who were once loyal to the plague god continued their specialty of vomiting upon the enemy. Where the disgusting expulsions touched; flesh boiled, muscle melted, and bone disintegrated. The WAAAGH still continued. Unable to contain their rage, the ex-forces of Khorne entered the melee at the gates, each spilling bucketloads of blood before the tide of Orruks washed over them. The disenfranchised Slaaneshi picked out those on the outside of the brawl, their hooked whips sinking into flesh then dragging the victims to more secluded locations. Finally, Crackedmorrow's kin sent bolts of magic crashing into the enemy, zapping many into nightmarish spawn who then turned upon their former comrades.

The battle for The Citadel of Nightmares had just begun and the statue of the Shadowlord looked upon the carnage with cold interest. The dark gaze penetrated even the stupidest Orruk mind, whispering of the pain that would come should they continue this fight. An occasional Orruk would die without moving a muscle, almost as if frozen in time...

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WAAAGH! Against Ravengate

“Ballistae ranging shots! How far are they?” The thud of heavy bolt fire filled the air. “Captain Angramson begin the required paperwork for a Gunhauler contract, message relaying duty” “Aye” the Duarden Captain responded. “Where are the Fyreslayers!?! This is a poor time for them to be off on a hunt!” “Soulscryer Finstrike are your forces ready?” “Of course my lord, always” the Aelf replied. “Good, Stormcasts! Lets show these untrained brawlers what fighters of the Lightning and Hammer are capable of!” An earth shaking cheer went across the walls. At that the Lord Aquilor mounted his Gryph-Charger and began climbing the mountain pass to reach the overwatch point.

The valley rattled with an army on the march, not an army a mob, a WAAAGH! as the Orruks called it. Supposedly an unstoppable force that would wreck anything who stood in its way. Well the The Ravengate was in the way and Lord Aquilor Silvertusk would test the rumors of the WAAAGH! He had to for the people of Shavespike depended on the Ravengate holding. What had riled up all these Orruks, Silvertusk did not know, he had received reports of the greenskins forming together months ago but thought little of it. Now his hubris was at his doorstep and the siege had begun.

The Orruks came on, they began gaining momentum and broke into a charge towards the walls, the earth shook. Suddenly the ground opened up, hidden tunnels collapsed under the weight of the charging WAAAGH! and many Orruk fell to their doom. The Fyreslayers had arrived. An organic wall of orange crests appeared in front of the Ravengate. Runesmitter Zarngrimm and his companies unleashed the flames of Vulcatrix upon the Orruk hoard, burning hundreds in the first ranks to naught but ash. The WAAAGH! faltered.

The Orruks regrouped, the heavier armored Brutes took the lead and crashed into the Fyreslayer lines. The battle was evenly matched at first but many of the Fyreslayers spent their runes too early and were chopped down once exhaustion took effect. Runesmitter Zarngrimm ordered his remaining forces to fallback, they had done their duty, now it was time for the rest of Ravengate to join the fight.

The WAAAGH! was at the walls now, they began to climb - sometimes over each other to reach the top. Castigator bolts fired down upon the Orruks and Kharadron Frigates unleashed volley upon volley on the climbing hoard. Despite this the Orruks reached the top and the fight began. Liberators closed ranks, the Orruk choppas bouncing off their Sigmarite shields. The green tide surged and more Orruks poured onto the walls, slowly the forces of Ravengate were pushed into the streets.

The fighting slowed as the Orruks entered the streets, the Stormcasts had retreated and a thick fog filled the area. An eerie silence forced the Orruks to stop their advance. Out of the mist Morrsar Guard charged, tearing into those Orruks who were not paying attention. Many Orruks were shredded by spear and maw but there were too many. The Idoneth attack managed to cut off the stream of greenskins, however more than Soulscryer Finstrike would have liked managed to continue on to the Ravenkeep, trapping the rearguard.

Lord Aquilor Silvertusk met his remaining troops at the Ravenkeep. He looked upon them, many were injured, moral was poor, and the battle seemed all but lost. He finished writing his scroll, handed it to the runner and turned to the last defenders. “We have fought bravely, we have died heroicly, and we shall not lose this battle! We must hold, for reinforcements are on the way! Let us make sure they have someone to reinforce!” Above a Gunhauler sped off towards Shavespike, carrying the final request of Lord Aquilor Silvertusk. The Orruks began bashing the gate to the keep, its iron doors groaning in protest. “Do your duties to your fullest, for we are the last defenders of Ravengate. All we have worked so hard for lies south of our walls, we must not fail. The people of Shavespike and New Lethis rely on us. Let us fight like the heroes of myth and claim our rightful place among legends!” The cheer was deafening; Fyreslayer, Kharadron, and Stormcast lined up side by side on the inner walls. They fired shot into the horde slaying many.

Lord Aquilor Silvertusk finally saw the enemy Warboss, a huge ironclad beast with a choppa the size of two men. It roared, spittle flying everywhere and it saw Silvertusk too. In a flash, Lord Aquilor Silvertusk rode the winds aetheric and appeared right in front of the Warboss. He knew either he defeated the monster, sending the horde into a brawl to decide the next leader or he would fall and the battle would be lost, he had little choice. His Bolstorm Pistol shots rattled off the heavy armor, doing little but making the beast angrier. He charged, his Gryph-charger slamming in to the the hideous Orruk. His Starbound Blade reached out and carved deep gashes into the armor, but did not reach the Orruk’s flesh. The Shock Handaxe chopped down into the Orruk’s helm, the first swing bouncing off harmlessly but the second finding a gap and slicing into hard muscle and bone. Finally the Gryph-Charger bit and clawed at the Orruk but the monster was too fast and armored, the Orruk punched the mount back causing it to reel in pain.

The Warboss counter attacked but the agile Gryph-Charger jumped and bounded away from the slow heavy swings, not a single one making contact. Lord Aquilor Silvertusk continued the attack, he had found the Warboss’s weakspots, shots hit the unarmored biceps, his blade bit under the cuirass opening the Orruk’s belly, and the razorsharp claws of the Gryph-Charger took off a leg. The Warboss fell hard, it scrambled to stand but blood loss and shock had set in, Lord Aquilor Silvertusk dismounted and put his boot to the beasts head, crushing it. He let out a warcry then grabbed the reins and zipped back to the keep. He had his victory.

The infighting between the Orruks was fierce, and the castle town suffered. However, while the Orruks were fighting themselves the defenders of the Ravengate prepared. Reinforcements were on the horizon and together they would end this siege once and for all.

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WAAAGH! Against the Silverhold

Captain Gearson looked out over the prow of his vessel, notice had come that a WAAAGH had besieged The Ravengate and another was approaching Silverhold, where he was docked. It would be easy enough to make his fleet ready and leave these New Lethisians to their fate, but a contract was a contract, and he would not be known as an oath breaker. He could hear the drums now, the dull thud, thud, thud announcing the Orruk horde for miles.

“Spannerson!” the captain called, “Aye Sir!” Endrinrigger Spannerson replied. “What say you if we go for a cruise? I’d like to check on our prospects” the captain asked. “Our ship is ready captain, we go wherever you please” At that the endrin came to life and the craft ascended through the clouds.

It was not long before they sighted the Orruks, the mob marching out of step, bumping and pushing into each other. The captain looked through his aetherscope, searching for the boss. The ugly face of a Gargant filled his view, he took a step back, luckily they were out of range of the monster’s throwing arm. “Cannon! Let’s send a shell to black that beast’s eye!” “Aye Sir!’ The cannon clicked as it turned to aim at the Gargant, “Ready Sir!” “Fire!” commanded the captain. The shot flew out, screaming through the sky, it smashed just below the cheekbone of the Gargant, pulping the muscle and surely powdering bone. The shell then bounced, and fell on to a close mob of Orruks.

“Ahahaha! Good shot! You’ll be getting a raise for that one!” the captain laughed, “What do you mean sir?” “A two for one! You broke that Gargant’s face and if my aetherscope looks to be true, also just killed the Orruk Boss!” The mob had broken into a riot, every Orruk was fighting to gain control and dozens were being slain by their own kind. “That ought to do it, lads, back to Silverhold. We have a tale to tell.” The ship turned and headed back to the Silverhold docks.

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The Fungorn Defense

“Fall back to the top of the hill! They’ve claimed this pass!” ordered Pestis Plauguegut.

His tribesmen and Warriors of Nurgle retreated in an orderly fashion uphill with the Greenskins close behind. They weaved through tufts that hid slime traps and spikey pits covered with disease. They wouldn’t stop the rampaging orruks, but they’d slow them down enough to give the defenders a chance to regroup at the top. Pestis had other ideas.

“Ready the straw trap,” said Pestis.

The Nurgle tribespeople tugged on ropes to drag giant balls of infected hay towards the downward slope of the hill. Countless orruks were tripped up in the mire, some tumbling back downhill, or fell into the hidden pitfalls, impaling on the spikes below and succumbing to the disease that entered their bodies. They were close to the top, but it did them no good.

“Now!” shouted Pestis.

The Fungorn defenders let go their ropes and tossed green-lit torches in front. The giant hay balls caught fire and picked up speed rolling towards the main column of orruks at the bottom of the hill. Orruks screamed as they fled the 21 balls. They scorched the hill in green fire and passed along contagions to those fortunate enough to avoid an agonizing death by fire. Those infected orruks were sedated and too weak to defend themselves as the Fungorn tribespeople easily dispatched them.

The fiery balls slammed into the pass below, torching hundreds of orruks caught on the terrain. Once the 21st ball impacted the others, a large cloud erupted, blasting apart the remaining attackers and damaging the earthen pass to cause a mudslide. When the dust settled, Pestis saw the second pass in the Fungorn Foothills sealed off. These minor victories were fleeting as it drained resources and sealed off routes for the Greenskins and Ghungus’ relief force to reach Fungorn Keep.

Pestis scratched the icon soldered into his gut to mark his devotion to Nurgle. He pondered the choices he made that put him in this moment, and hoped his next choices would be enough to see the next day alive.

Pestis had sworn by the Great Grandfather that he would hold the Foothillls long enough for Ghungus to return. The tribes had protested when the bulk of the Order of Rot left Fungorn Keep to chase off the Hedonites in the east, but Pestis knew their true goal. Horticulous' Infected Ladle had to be retrieved, and any clue to the relic’s whereabouts required investigating. Despite the odds, he welcomed the challenge to impress Nurgle. He still had a few tricks in his gut.

“Better than I could have planned it, eh?” said Vendis Sporefur. “Too bad it can’t be this easy or else there’d be no more Gree. There’s just too many of the orruks.”

A longtime friend of Pestis in their old life, Vendis was one of the first of the Fungorn tribespeople to relinquish his life for servitude to Nurgle. Pestis could count on his wits for improving how to use the landscape for war and farming, but Vendis’ skill with an axe was nothing to truffle with. The blightking knew his friend would need both assets if they were going to hold out long enough for Ghungus to return.

“It’s not like we haven’t fought orruks before. Victory isn’t impossible,” Pestis spoke optimistically, hoping to keep his friend and fellow warriors spirits up. “We haven’t even seen those mega gargants of legend.”
“Oh they’re real alright, and bigger than you could imagine,” responded Pestis. “They tried breaching the western edge of the Foothills, but Thrombule and his Rotbringers managed to hold, just barely though. They’re preparing to fall back and spring their trap the moment the defenses crack.”
“I’ve heard the news. A valiant defense in Nurgle’s name,” said Pestis. “Course the only thing the Poxbrume keeps hollering about is the latest squire he’s lost. I hear they found his corpse nearly three miles away after a Mega-Gargant tried to hit Fungorn Keep.”

Both blighttkings chuckled among themselves before the reality of the situation weighed on them.

“How long do you think we can hold them?” Vendis finally asked. “We remain strong now, and could delay the WAAAGH! further, but our outer defenses are withering. The tribes aren’t happy that their homes are likely to burn before this campaign is over. The horizon is a sea of green and we have few ways to deal with that damned mega-gargant.”
“You speak the truth, Vendis,” answered Pestis. “I am no fool to think we alone can defeat this horde. The best we can do is hold them off long enough for Ghungus and the rest of the Order to return. Morbisa blessed these lands with the Great Grandfather’s blessing, so the orruks will have a hard time progressing to the highlands.” “Regardless, I anticipate a worthy fight against these barbarous oafs and can’t hide my excitement to prove myself to the Plague God. Fungorn Keep is nearly unconquerable thanks to the defenses we’ve raised, but we must make sure it doesn’t become our tombs.”
“Indeed. We should inform the Cyst when we return and seek their council,” replied Vendis. “Surely our battle here will bring better tidings.”

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“You bloated idiots!” screamed Thormbule. He was one of the seven members of the Cyst inside the hall in Fungorn Keep. A combination of Order knights and tribespeople, these leaders were tasked to oversee the defense against the WAAAGH! Despite Pestis’ and Vendis’ victory, the other leaders, Thormbule and two others, were enraged that it came at the cost of access to the northern pass.

It also didn’t help that the Greenskins had finally breached the outer defenses in the west by summoning a giant green foot to stomp and kick through the walls and earth mounds. This also ruined several traps carefully planted to slow their advance. The orruks might be headstrong, but they were crafty when they needed to be, Pestis thought sullenly.

“Where do we stand now? Gliral?” asked Thormbule.
The slight figure, one of the leaders of the hill tribes, responded. “With the first layer breached, its only a matter of time before the rest of the outer rings fall. We maintain a small garrison in the east, but the bulk of our forces have fallen to the second tier.”
“We’re almost ready to deploy the flood,” said the sorcerer Ahtaznir. “The lowlands will drown the brutes before they can gain a foothold.”
“That better work, wizard” Thormbule sneered. “We’ve lost several warriors to the orruks and at some point will have to consider rationing if they reach the high ground.”
“You speak as if you doubt our ability to defend our land, Poxbrume,” stated Pestis. “The tribes have fought here longer than the maggots in your skin. Best that one hasn’t eaten part of your brain’s thinking capacity.”
“Watch your tongue, worm,” threatened Thormbule. “Lest you remember that you’re the one that handed us this land and its people. We would have conquered it one way or the other, but had it been me, I would have let you all rot and fed your remains to Vyrraki.”
“Bless Nurgle that you didn’t and are here to assist us in halting the orruk’s advance,” retorted Pestis. “I wouldn’t mind testing rusted steel with you, but we have more important matters here.”

Thormbule stewed on those words, but knew best than to warp morale at this critical juncture, and ate his disgust. Noting he chose not to answer, Pestis continued.

“We maintain the plan. Fight on our terms, stall the orruk’s reproaches, and keep Nurgle’s blight active so we can receive more daemonic reinforcements. The more land we lose, the harder it will be for his children to aid us. With luck, Ghungus’ forces will return soon enough.”
“That’s right,” said Vendis, striking an uplifting tone. “Already plaguebearers and rotflys do our work as we recover and plot our next steps,” said Vendis. “For now, Fungorn Keep is untouchable so long as-“

The keep shook.
Everyone stood and reached for their weapons. They waited.
Another rumble. No alarms were sounded. Not yet.

“What’s happening? Where’s that coming from?” said Pestis. No one had the answer, so he rushed outside to the battlements to see for himself.

Fungorn Keep sat atop a high hill with three walls facing an uphill approach. The Order of Rot would have struggled to besiege the keep had Pestis not betrayed his people and brought Nurgle into the Fungorn Foothills. The other side of the keep sat at the top of a steep two-mile high cliff thought to be insurmountable. That was until the defenders saw a mega-gargant and two man-crusher gargants begin to climb the cliff’s base.

Thormbule’s helm hid his expression, but Pestis imagined utter shock had consumed him. His panicked reaction gave it away.

“The gargants come! Find as much bile as can be gathered. Sorcerers prepare your plague spells!” ordered Thormbule. “To arms brothers and sisters of the Rot! Nobody breaches these walls over my dead squire’s body!”
“Which one?” Vendis jested softly to Pestis

The blightking wished he could have chuckled at his friend’s jest, but his rotted mind was racing. If the gargants had reached this far, there was no telling how many other orruks could have breached this far into the foothills. Pestis looked towards the eastern skyline and hoped his promise would hold.

“Great Grandfather’s winds carry you Ghungus, or may his bile drown you for eternity.”

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Great Waagh Kargatu razes the Bitter Coast

Quartermaster Skellan MacBonnar, Fleet’s Log

-Starsday, Highsprite of the Fourth Year of Arrival in Archipelago

I write of a threat we face that has been growing out of proportion, here in the Shyishan continent, and the Fleet may be the only one that can stop it.

Several Waaaghs rose in the wake of the great Mourngul haunting, around Lake Sturn. While one Megaboss Kragbag Drabklubba kept to those stomping grounds, preaching to the greenskin tribes there, other warbands ventured outwards for immediate conquest, cutting a bloody path along the Bitter Coast. Beastmaster Tyrant Kargatu was the one who struck fame: his warband almost stole our flagship, The Betrayal of Lethis. And now he’s raised himself an army.

Grand CaptainAldernon Numan was in a very very bad mood.

“Where in the Realms are they coming from? Have we to go knock on their doors now, just so they learn to stay put?”

Captain Numan was not very unhappy. The crew said nothing, because Captain enjoys having his ranting monologues. He is not often in a bad mood, but its is not often that his ship is almost stolen by a warband of thugs, bringing a couple pet monsters for a walk.

“We should have caught that sneaky Ogor knave then! Now we have to deal with all this nonsense. The ‘Betrayal’ can never be left undefended like this. EVER AGAIN!”

We didn’t bother to remind the Captain that he himself and the main army were off the vessel at the time of the raid, attempting to open negotiations with the hidden grove of Mistwatch. I had to bring in a Lahmian Cutter all the way from the rearguard, at the nick of time, so we could shoot down all the raiders before they took over the helm.

I stood patiently at attention, with only the dry croaks of my Jackie Raven cutting through the silence, while I tried to quieten her. You learn to do that when your input is not yet asked for. If I still had eyes though, they would be rolling over, from all of his hemming and hawing. One of the small people-management perks of serving an oath to the deathless Abyssal Fleet.

Captain Numan let out a long sigh from his long dead wheezing lungs.

“How far does their force extend now? How many reinforcements did they receive?”
“Two entire companies, dragging all the spoils from up the coast. The remains of our erstwhile potential business partners. Seems like the city is no more. This means they now have full larders and can stand a protracted war at this point.”

Vernous, Captain of The Rebuke, explains the intel their scouts just received.

“Ogors, orruks, grots and large, monstrous beasts. And… they have a cave worm.” The deathless crew shuffled in place, and those still with skin on their face showed concern. Vernous moved on. “They are building watchtowers” he rolled out a map, and drew glowing red sigils on it “here, here and here. They are using the ruins of local necropoli to center their camp on.”

I looked a bit more carefully at the Waaagh’s warcamp in the distance, dozens upon dozens of tiny fires burning, like little candles holding promises of war. They extended all the way from the shoreline to the Sorrowgate Peaks.

I already had the whole tactical plan thought and written out, and even half of the orders given, just awaiting confirmation. I was waiting for Aldernon to finish getting up to speed, so he could ask for any adjustments. And the under captains better not complain of any the last-minute changes this time: this is how the Fleet is run efficiently. Deathllessly efficient. Especially if Aldernon is upset.

There was a lot of to and fro, and more of Aldernon’s monologuing, so I let Vernous take most of his frustration. The Vampire hasn’t learned to be patient with Aldernon yet, but I’m sure he’ll get there in the next 50 years. Oh, the ambition of the young, failing to see the benefits of immortality. By the time the Captain started ordering positions, I jumped in with our current situation.

“Very good, our Cutters will be able to surprise their flank.” the Captain scratched his chin, finally in his ‘thinking’ mood. “Thanks to our little expedition here in the Deadwoods, we have dredged enough ground troops to sustain attrition of the kind these brutes will bring. Will they be raised in time?
“Our necromancers be workin’ ‘round the clock. There be a lot o’ remains ‘ere, so we’ll be able to reach the biggest size the fleet ‘as ever been.”
I pointed to the gravesites on the map where the reinforcements were being dug up.
“I ‘ave put the rest o’ the heavy ground troops front an’ center, to cut down their most aggressive units fast. We know they be hot-heated and will send some o’ their biggest an’ nastiest first, so we should cut them down ‘afore they can do enough damage. By then, our numbers will ‘ave swelled enough to start attritionin’. But before any o’ that…” I grinned, because I could not leave out our trump card. “I already ‘ave asked for several kegs o’ GravePowder to be carried to the frontline. I suggest these four spots ‘ere, they be the most likely chokepoints. Though most of the terrain be rather open... we could use some luring tactics to lead them to our traps…”

I know I can count on Aldernon to understand what I’m doing in advance, but I confess that this time I too was a bit worried about his reaction, after he heard about the raid. He was very angry on the outside, but I’m sure he was panicking on the inside. ‘The Betrayal of Lethis’ is our lifeline, the fulcrum of our oath, the safehouse of our souls. Letting it fall to enemy hands, or worse, be destroyed, would not only be unforgivable, it could mean destruction or enslavement. We chose this life for freedom, and all of us will literally go down with our ship.

The first week was a messy head-on confrontation for our ground troops, and despite it being my suggestion, I was regretful of seeing so many good warriors fall so quickly to the enemy and their monsters. I can’t really feel sadness anymore, but it still felt so wasteful. Orders have been given to put them back together as quickly as possible, but not all of them will be whole enough for it to work.

We thankfully blunted their attack: the Grave Powder did spectacular work, and reduced their horde nicely enough for our horde to cut them down. Conveniently infusing the broken corpses with amethyst energies, ready for harnessing. And we were able to kill several of their giant creatures as well.

This seems to be a trend of this ogor Kargatu: he has tamed not only gigantic spiders and sea wyrms, but also a Dreadmaw: a burrowing worm of gigantic size that can appear and disappear without warning under the ground. It took out our flanking cavalry deployment. How he managed to tame this beast I have no idea, but it will surely be what will screw our strategies soon. We could not see it coming, and we have no idea how fast it is moving underground. Our ships dove down to the action as soon as it was spotted, but our cannons were not enough to take it down yet.

For now we have held their advance and have claimed the high ground, so the battle swings in our favour. Kargatu will have more to deal with than he was expecting from our last encounter, as the entire might of the Abyssal Fleet is now bearing down on him. But damnation, these savages are persistent. They come and come and come, out of all the nooks and crannies of the land, no matter how many we kill. And they are tougher than a stiff corpse, so they take forever to die.

We had now fully deployed our tricks by then: the flanking wraith ships in position, and all the cadavers raised up, holding the advance of the main horde. Our artillery company had advanced to the high ground and was in position to rain fire on the enemy. The Fleet performed admirably well… I wonder what went through Kargatu’s mind at that point?

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