Schwarzweald 2: Here comes trouble

Hello there! Time for another trip to the dark woods, lets see whats been happening

A storm is brewing.. 

                   The White Tusk raiders

Schwarzweald is on high alert. Marshal Ulric is drilling the militia harder than ever while the Giehardts are on constant patrol aided by Bolga, whose eyes and ears in the forest have been tracking and reporting back for weeks now,while a runner has been sent out into the world to try and recruit extra sword arms for whats coming.
Hermann Giehardt returned battered and exhausted from a deep patrol a fortnight ago, and the news was grim. There are orcs abroad, and judging by the totems they're leaving to mark their path, the White Tusks, a pack of mercenaries feared throughout the region, are on the warpath.

Morgash the Tusklord and Uthmog Headhunter 

Morgash the Tusklord has fought from the Border Princes to the Badlands and beyond, his mercenaries following him in cutting and burning a path across the old world. He has fought and bested hundreds of opponents down the years, not caring a jot for the reasons other than the rate his "clients" are paying. What he's doing in the deepwoods around Schwarzweald remains to be seen, but its a certainty that he'll gladly put the village to the sword to keep his boys sharp whether its his objective or not. 

Uthmog has followed Morgash since the beginning and is the perfect lieutenant, a whirlwind in combat without a scrap of ambition to lead which allows Morgash the luxury of concentrating on the task at hand instead of watching his back constantly. 

Borch, Grundle, Slig and Viggut

Borch and Grundle are the longest serving members of the White Tusk after Morgash and Uthmog and are as aggressive and skilled as you would expect from battle hardened orcs. They share as close a bond as orcs can, but are aware of a shift in the mood of the warband recently. Theyre not sure if they care or not yet, but there seems to be change in the air all the same. 

That change, if it happens, will be brought about by Slig - the nastiest piece of filth you could have the misfortune to meet. Of course, as an orc in the company of his fellows this isnt a massive issue, and Morgash uses Slig for the most horrific and distasteful jobs, the most recent of which was slitting the throat of an elderly healer in a town on the outskirts of the Drakwald. The village itself is currently in the grip of a particularly nasty epidemic, and the Tusklord was charged with making sure that it didnt recover. However, Slig, the nasty little bastard that he is, kidnapped and slowly tortured the healer to death with her own ritual dagger instead of getting the job done quickly. Before she finally died, the healer cursed the blade to never allow Slig a moments peace and now it whispers to him constantly, pushing him to challenge Morgash for leadership and mocking his abilities. The only realistic outcome to such a challenge is Slig broken and left to die in a hole, but if he was to get lucky the warband would collapse without the strength of Morgash's will to hold it together

Viggut has noticed the change in Slig more than the rest of them, and is struggling between letting things play out and telling Morgash what's going on. Most orcs, being self serving creatures would normally run to the boss at the first opportunity but Morgash has a habit of breaking informants along with the transgressors theyre uncovering (for "disloyalty" he says), so for now Viggut is keeping his teeth together

Hogg and Barse

Trackers and hunters for the group as well as missile support, Hogg and Barse are a rare type of orc that doesnt like to get up close and personal, so Morgash drills them mercilessly with their crude bows, and regularly reminds them that on the day they stop being useful they'll be thrown to the rest of the pack for sport

Marrowbelch the Crusher 

Ever since Morgash stormed into his cave and beat him senseless, Marrowbelch has been a part of the raiders group and a very valuable addition. He bears no ill will towards Morgash whatsoever, in fact he is in awe of the orcs prowess considering Marrowbelch snapped his arm like a twig in the opening moments of the fight and still came out with a savage beating. And anyway, life with the White Tusk with all its fighting and looting is a massive improvement on roaming the foothills looking for merchants to ambush and devour, so hes quite happy with his lot these days! 

There yis go, another intermittent chapter of village life in a haunted and dangerous forest, hope you enjoyed it and I'll hopefully see you soon! 

Schwartzweald Part 1

Well hello there!
Right, time to start getting some ideas down for this modest little project. I think the best way to keep this current ball rolling is to make it into a story, one that evolves over time to hopefully become a proper mythology of a small corner of the Empire. I'm setting it all in the Old World of warhammer, as thats what I know and theres plenty to draw from while still adding elements from real world folklore too. This will be far fron "canon" (what a fucking silly term), but I'll muddle along and try to develop the story of Schwartzweald, a tiny hamlet deep in the forests of the Drakwald. Here we go!

The inhabitants of Schwartzweald 1: The Militia

Bargash, Marshal Ulric, Deputy Klein and the dwarfs, Thorek and Bolli

Marshal Ulric is the grandson of the "founder" of Schwartzweald, Retter Gruber, an ex state trooper of the empire. Grubers exit from service is still a bit of a mystery, some say he retired on a modest pension after a particularly vicious campaign against a chaos warband while others claim (very quietly) that he was a deserter who made off with a large portion of the paymasters wagon. Either way, he staked his claim on the small clearing he ended up in and began the life of a hermit, but as time went on, more disparate (and desperate) folk came to settle the area, a situation which Retter quickly warmed to, given the hostile nature of the deep woods he called home. Ulric is a proud and fairman, and very capable in combat, having been trained by his father and grandfather, whose armour and sword he wields as his badges of office.
Deputy Klein is the son son of Albert Klein, the woodcutter, another ex soldier from the Ostermark who was blinded in one eye in battle, and released from service in return for trading his eye for the life of his commander. He tried life as a sellsword for a while, investing his retirement purse in a fine suit of plate armour, but his fighting days were behind him and his subsequent wanderings eventually led him to Schwartzweald, along with his new wife, a camp girl from the mercenary outfit he ran with. Klein the younger is not exactly an exceptional warrior but has dreams of following in his fathers footsteps, something his father has no intention of allowing, so his post as the village deputy is more a compromise than a calling.
Thorek and Bolli are all that remains of a dwarf merchant caravan that was set upon by a beastman warband while traversing the woods, Ulric and his former deputy happened upon them enacting a fighting retreat, harried by a pack of ungor. With the humans help, they managed to scatter the hunters and the dwarfs pledged what was left of their lives to Schwartzweald for the assistance, and have been a valuable asset ever since
Bargash showed up one day, decided he liked the place and hasnt left. While some in the village are wary of an ogre wandering about, he is a remarkably gregarious example of his race, and his sword arm is most welcome in keeping the peace

Anders "the gobshite", Klaus and Marcin

Anders unfortunate nickname is absolutely deserved. He fancies himself a duelist and claims his sword and dagger were gifts from an Altdorf noble who he saved in battle, but in reality he found them on the rotten corpse of an empire soldier he stumbled across in the woods while on the run for petty theft. Still, he's handy enough with the blades, and always willing to throw himself heroically at any trouble, so the rest of the militia is more than happy to "send in the gobshite"
Klaus and Marcin are the local pest controllers. Having grown up in Schwartzweald they have a great working knowledge of the area and its non human inhabitants and work extremely well as a team, whether it be flushing rats from the tavern or caving in goblin skulls in the deepwoods

Gerrard, Hermann and Norbert

Trackers and hunters (and sometimes poachers if the opportunity arises), the "brothers Grim" are all members of the same family, the Geirhardts, who live on the outskirts of Schwartzweald. Hermann, the eldest, is a terribly ugly man, some say he has orc blood in him but never within earshot, as he is a savage fighter and like a ghost when on the hunt, both factors ensure his place as a respected member of the community. 

Gerrard is also a very capable woodsman and archer and the two brothers have more than proved their worth in both feeding the village when times are hard, and defending it when times are harder. 

Poor Norbert is an idiot,in less enlightened times he would be called a simpleton but he is a happy lad, and under the watchful eye of his older brothers he is becoming a wicked shot with his bow which more than makes up for his other, numerous shortcomings. 

Bolga the druid and Bjark

Bolga isnt officially a citizen of Schwartzweald, he wanders the surrounding woods grumbling to himself and drinking the various wines spirits and beers he brews himself. He is welcome in the village, and makes some spare coin selling surplus alcohol and advising the farmers on the best way to cultivate their meagre crops in the difficult soil. He likes to frequent the tavern as much as he's able, but doesnt like to leave Bjark alone for too long, the bloody thing keeps getting himself in bother. Although not willing to get too involved in the running of the village, if danger looms he and Bjark will meet it head on with all the ferocity you'd expect from a half drunk druid and his bear best friend.. 

So there you have it, reams of bollocks punctuated with the odd picture! I hope you enjoued the small tour of the burgeoning Schwartzweald, heres hoping I can keep the ball rolling. I dont wamt to outline too much of my plan, I'm hoping to let it evolve naturally, but there will be a post in the hopefully near future detailing the orc raiding party thats been causing all sorts of trouble lately. Thanks for reading! 

Here we go again!

Yup, I'm doing a blog post! As usual, I've been busy painting, but not blogging. The time it takes to write a post can be used to paint more and that always wins out.

Anyway, lets get my latest fleeting idea set in stone to be disregarded on a whim!

First of all, I'd suggest you read this:

Done? Sound.

Whiskey has this awful knack of doing blog posts that really get my brain firing, models get dug out, sprayed and about half get painted before he goes and does another one and my focus changes again. But this one has stuck with me like few others. I came to the realisation last year that I'm pretty much done with large scale games, warband(ish) sized projects are much more attractive at this stage and much more forgiving of my tiny attention span, so, as usual, I read the post, dug out the models, sprayed and painted and here we are:

I'm planning on building a narrative around a small fantasy village in the deep dark woods of the warhammer world, these lads are the beginnings of the village militia. Why a small fantasy village in the middle of the woods? Well, because the deep dark woods is where the monsters live, and heres the first group the militia will have to deal with

Proper skeevy little bastard orcs, accompanied by a lightly converted Guthrum Mane from an old scenario pack to add some muscle (and bravery) to the warband.

Now, I'm planning to expand on the background a fair bit as this goes on, maybe even playing some small solo games to build a narrative. The setting should provide enough opportunities to add all sorts of varied beasties and boggarts fornthe doughty militia to defend against, but for now, I'll thank you for reading and hopefully be back in less than a year for another post! Cheers!