Represent your favourite Warband!

Discussion in 'Creative Section' started by Overwatch, Aug 23, 2016.

  1. Jawajambalya Private

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    What's your rank on the Leaderboard if you don't mind me asking?
  2. Captain Thorrek Private

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    I have a couple questions. Could I get permission to post a topic in this section, or should I do it in general discussion? Also, what are your thoughts on YouTube links (music)... my new Warband is an MHL (Mordheim Hockey League) team.
  3. Gorvar Private

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    2213 give or take. Sorry bout the delay.
  4. Ewan Lamont
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    Sure knock yourself out feel free to link to anything mordheim related
  5. Jawajambalya Private

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    Im at 196 with blackpit kravenpaw now (wooooooo top 200!)
  6. Gorvar Private

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    The Drakenhof Marauders.
    Prologue.

    The green glow accentuated the crestfallen buildings, former homes and shops in various degrees of decay. Dust, bon and refuse were littered across Mordheim's many streets.
    Morslieb hung over the city as it cast it's green eery shade, making the destroyed city with it's abandoned houses and streets look even more the haunted place it had become years prior. Before the comet fell, the city was populated by thousands of people from all across the Empire. Priests who preached the word of Sigmar, vendors trying to sell their wares, city guard who upheld the peace, pilgrims who used the city as a place of rest, whores plying their trade, refugees who sought sanctuary from the civil war or greenskin warbands, beggars asking for scraps of food and more lived in the city, living their day to day lives as any other major city in the Empire did. That all changed when the meteor hit the city.
    Now the city of Mordheim, as it was now called, was populated by scavengers of both the animal and human variety. All pretence of law and order was stripped as life in the city was one of constant struggle.


    It would've been completely abandoned were it not for the deadly gift the comet left behind....wyrdstone. Shards of green stone that were filled with raw magic that could be made into anything. A suit of armour, a sword, a source of power to conjure a massive spell.
    The burning stone was scattered all over the city as numerous mercenaries across the Empire came to grab as many of the stones as possible and sell it for the highest bidder.
    But not all mercenaries came from Reikland or Middenheim or Marienburg. Some served darker masters who wished to use the stone for their own purposes....
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  7. Gorvar Private

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    The Drakenhof Marauders.
    Chapter 1.

    The ambush worked perfectly. According to the Town Cryer, a small warband of ratmen had found a stash of wyrdstone near the temple of Morr. The skaven warband operated in a destroyed temple not to far from the ruined sewer system and used it as a headquarters into the city. Oleg and his warband, (Him, Dmitri, Frederik and Dieter) staked the temple out, observing his prey like his father thought him back on the desolate planes of Kislev. You have to think as your prey to see when it will lower it's guard, this could happen when it needs to drink or leave its young to hunt. In this case it was when the ratmen send out most of it's warband shortly after the hour of the wolf to hunt for more stone, leaving alone a small group of their weaker verminkin behind. After a week Oleg decided to attack the temple and with the swift attack brought the skaven to death and took all of the wyrdstone they could find. Like all prey there was a limited window before a larger predator would come to claim the carcass, in this case the majority of the warband.
    Dieter placed the stone with the rest of their prize when they heard the scream.
    Panic set in amongst the group, did the skaven come back early. "Dmitri!" Oleg ran outside the ruined temple, followed by his two crew members.



    They quickly found Dmitri and what had killed him and it shocked the trio and turned their skin to a very white pale. It was not a skaven that killed the Kislevite but something larger. The creature that was eating his entrails was perhaps human once, now half naked save for a filthy rag to cover his modesty. The dark creature did not look up from it's grisly feast. It's black, grime caked claws tore through the metal chainmail vest and the soft skin beneath with ease as it picked the organs from Dmitri' stomach and chewed them like they were sausages. Oleg's stomach churned as he saw his brother's body twitch with every jolt from the creature's feeding. Memories flashed in his mind of them riding across the step, hunting prey, drinking ale, fighting side by side against northmen and greenskins. The promise made to his mother that they would return home safe. All gone and turned to blackness as Dmitri's dead eyes stared into Oleg' soul.
    It did not look up as it enjoyed the feast. Oleg was the first to snap back to reality as he pulled his flintlock pistol and pulled the trigger. A loud bang rang through the street as the creature howled in pain. Terror, fear and sorrow turned to rage as Oleg charged blindly at the ghoul and slashed at it with his sword. He ignored the screams from his two companions as the rage took hold of him. It was already to late when he realized the ghoul was not alone. Another ghoul leaped down from the roof on top of Oleg and wrestled him down.



    A pale man in mercenary armour wielding a axe and shield ran up from behind the corner of the temple and slammed his axe at Frederik, who barely had enough time to dodge, dropping his crossbow and drew his knife. The knife fell upon the shield as the pale men headbutted Frederik. The man was bigger than Frederik and older, even beneath the steel helmet Frederik could see the scars of previous battles. The man was a veteran but then again so was Frederik.
    "I'm coming, Fred!" Dieter drew his sword and attacked the new assailant, which gave Frederik enough time to recover and both attack the mercenary warrior. Neither saw the mercenary was but a distraction. Their only warning was a soft moan as an very pale woman rushed to Dieter and held him in a tight embrace. Her skin felt as cold as the grave, her eyes sown shut as her terrible moans were that of an banshee. Dieter tried to break free from the embrace of the woman when the arrow came.



    Dieter fell down dead as the arrow embedded itself in his throat, a gush of red came out as the man drowned in his own blood as the woman began to feed on the dying man.
    Frederik lasted not much longer as another corpse came towards him, that of a former city watchmen in rusty armour, his face half rotten off as maggots squirmed out of the skin that was left.
    Frederik pushed the mercenary back, making him fall down a flight of stairs and struck blindly at the dead guardsmen. The sword severed the neck of the corpse and dropped dead. Frederik quickly turned to the woman and struck her as well, his need for survival overwhelming the horror. When it was done he turned to Dieter, the young handsome man turned ugly by death.



    "May Sigmar guide you to your rest, my friend..." he prayed as he picked up his fallen friend' sword. He turned in anger to the downed mercenary warrior. He unleashed an incoherent war cry and rushed to the mercenary. The mercenary had barely enough time to raise his shield as Frederik unleashed a rain of blows on the merc' shield. Anger fuelled him and blinded him. The merc was cowering behind his shield and left himself wide open for an attack. Frederik raised his sword for a attack. He went to strike the man but was stopped as if a hand pulled his arm back. Frederik turned and saw Dieter staring back at him. His fallen friend held his arm as he stared lifelessly into his eyes. Before the realization could fully hit his brain, the merc's axe did.


    The merc panted for air, exhaustion made his arms feel like lead. The newly arisen Dieter shuffled passed him, uninterested in the man whose life he saved. The merc turned to face the corpse's puppeteer as he made his way from a nearby balcony, a red and black robed man with a red wide brimmed hat. The man' staff tapped on the stone tiles beneath him, the little skull on the top of the pole clattering with every thud as if it was laughing at a dark, macabre joke. A small black bag hung around the necromancer's neck, a wry hand held on to it as if it were a lucky charm.
    "My thanks, master Von Karland..." the merc gasped for air." You saved my life."
    Von Karland ignored his servant's adulations as he took the pack from his new zombie and went through the wyrdstone within.
    Another man, younger than the merc and in better shape, in lighter armour, a quiver and a bow jumped down from a rooftop and walked over to the merc." You alright, Udo?" The young man slapped the older merc on the shoulder.
    Udo nodded." Aye I am, yourself Christoff?"
    The archer nodded and turned to the ghouls as they kept holding the Kislevite down." Why haven't they eaten him yet?"
    Udo shrugged." The master must want him for something...."
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  8. Gorvar Private

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    Javert Von Karland gave the bag of wyrdstone back to the corpse before he turned to the prisoner that was kept down by his ghouls. He clutched to the bag of ashes around his neck." One more after this, Ilsa my sweet..." he gave the bag a kiss. He walked over to the still struggling Kislevite, the drool of the ghouls salivating over their soon to be meal.
    "I'll kill you!" the threats came in every dialect ranging from Kislev to Altdorf to Bretonnia.
    He leaned on his knees close to the Kislevite, straying his beard." You've gotten old, Oleg."
    Oleg stopped struggling for a moment, his eyes looked confused at the necromancer." How do you know my name?!"
    The Necromancer smirked beneath his wide brimmed hat." I remember those who wronged me, Oleg. You and everyone at Ubersreik...." He raised his hat up, allowing the prisoner to see.


    Oleg's eyes flashed in recognition." You....you can't be alive. You're dead!"
    Javert gave a ruefull grin." I was left for dead. Big difference. If I were dead your brother would be alive still and not being chewed out by street dogs."
    Oleg rushed forward and would've ripped the necromancer apart were it not for the ghouls who had him still pinned down.
    "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU LIKE THAT BITCH OF A WIFE OF YOURS!"
    Javert's smile changed, he glared angrily at Oleg before he grasped his hand around the Kislevite's neck and squeezed.
    Despite the withered look, the hand had a lot of power behind it as Oleg's skin turned to a very dark purple.
    All of Javert's hate went to the spell, choking the life out of his former tormentor. He kept squeezing even long after the Kislevite stopped moving and the ghouls stepped back to dine on rat meat.

    His mind went back to the night. To the fire, the screaming, him being chased by a group of men. Oleg taunting him as he is chased down by the horsemen, the feeling of cold and wet and the powerlessness as he is dragged away by the tide. The pain....and the anger that kept him alive during it all.
    Rat schreeches brought him back to reality.
    "Master!" Christoff nocked an arrow to his bow before firing it." More ratmen!"
    The necromancer stopped choking the now dead prisoner and used his staff to get up. He saw several of his corpses feebly trying to keep the vermintide back as Udo and his ghouls took a defensive positions around their master.
    Javert growled and turned around away from the sight and took the bag from Dieter's corpse before it stumbled off to face the ratmen." Come...." he motioned to his companions to follow." We have done enough for the night."
    Not needing any further prompting, both dregs and even the feral ghouls followed the necromancer as the risen corpses of the dead mercenaries covered their escape.



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  9. Gorvar Private

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    The Drakenhof Marauders.
    Chapter 2.

    A hour later they were back in their haunt, an inn called "Valaya's bosom". It was a sturdy enough inn in the outskirts of Mordheim, known for the raunchy picture of a half naked dwarfen woman outside it's doors. The inn/brothel was run by Hadgar Dainson, a dwarf who travelled to Mordheim before the comet fell to make a living. No-one knew why he came down the mountains and opened up a tavern but rumours were all over the place. Some say he dishonoured his people by fleeing in battle, his cowardice even stopping from from taking up the Slayer Oath. Others say he fell in love with a woman and her spurning him made him cast away mountain and home. Either way, Hadgar provided ale and women (or men) and some useful information if some coin came his way.
    The Valaya was a fortified building with hired sellswords both inside and outside the doors. The sellswords were led by an Tilian woman named Esmerelda, one of the deadliest swords north of the river Reik. Her missing eye and tall stature made any troublemaker think twice before attempting anything.
    Plenty of other fortune seekers made their home at Valaya's, for coin was coin to the dwarf no matter whose hands it came from. But the troubles outside stayed outside.


    It was another busy night at Valaya's. Inside the mercenaries were enjoying their rebrief. While the ghouls were kept in the crypt nearby, Udo and Christoff enjoyed more acceptable vices. Udo drank some ale and ejoyed playing cards with Hadgar and other patrons as the young man used his coin to buy himself another woman for the night. It was the Fay Enchantress this time, a Bretonnian woman dressed as the aforementioned fae woman.
    Udo tried to ignore young Christoff bedding the Bretonnian whore upstairs and was deep inside his cups.
    "Oh by the lady, oh by the lady!" he heard her cry through the thin wooden walls. Udo groaned annoyed and drank some more of the ale.
    "I know it aint Bugman's...." the dwarfen innkeeper said as he poured himself in some ale and drank with Udo." But it'll do the job. How was the haul?"
    Udo smirked and gave out four fingers.
    "Four shards?" the dwarf asked.
    Udo shook his head." Four score."
    Hadgar nearly spat out his ale." How much?"
    Udo nodded." We found a skaven stockpile, took their whole supply."
    Hadgar chuckled and raised his stein." Here here, those raki deserve nothing less!" He toasted with Udo and had another swig." Your boss must be very happy."
    The old mercenary sighed inwardly as he glazed at the basement door where his master met with their contact." You'd think...."


    The necromancer handed the bag of shards over to the hooded man in front of him. The first time he had seen his benefactor it scared him to death. Pale skin, red eyes and the pure sense of dread that radiated from him, like he was a wolf licking its muzzle as he considered the lifestock in front of him. To the outside world the benefactor was a noblemen from Sylvania, a bit pale looking but otherwise a charming and handsome fellow who had a way with words. But people like Javert knew exactly what type of man he was. A Von Carnstein, a vampire count. and the only tutor he had to get his revenge.
    Von Carnstein's long white nails went through the purse, examining the wyrdstone." How much?"
    "Short of a full four score." Javert replied.
    "A very impressive haul." Von Carnstein replied and closed the bag." But that is not all. A little bird told me you found one of your tormentors."
    " Your bird is correct." Javert replied with an annoyed tone. The necromancer did not hide his feelings, he knew he was being watched at all times but then again so were other 'agents' who served Vlad Von Carnstein in Mordheim. The vampire, one of Vlad's sired 'children' motioned to an enthralled peasant woman and held out his hand to her. "How many does that leave then in your crusade?" the vampire asked as the peasant moved closer to him, as if under a spell, and pulled her on his lap as if he'd a lover.

    "One." Javert replied unperturbed as Von Carnstein strayed her hair." The Witch Hunter who set my wife ablaze."
    "You think he's in Mordheim?" the vampire kissed the peasant's neck.
    Javert shook his head, he had seen this sight to many times before." Not sure."
    The vampire kissed the peasant woman, making her coil in the rows of exstacy." Would you like me to look for him? After all, you've been a loyal servant."
    Before the necromancer could reply, the vampire lunged at the woman's neck. Blood gushed from the wound as the vampire drank it greedily and fully.
    "I'd appreciate the help, yes." Javert replied. The woman's body was nothing more but a shrivelled corpse when it hit the ground when he was done. Von Carnstein panted for air, the sheer rush going through him. Javert felt the dark magic of
    Shyish
    course through the vampire. He waited for the vampire to calm himself.
    "Then it will be done...." the vampire took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his mouth." We'll be in touch, my faithful servant."
    He tossed a bag of gold coins on the table and took the wyrdstone with him, leaving it behind along with the dead woman.


    Javert waited for the door to close before he called upon Shyish to revive the dead woman. The peasant's bones spasmed and cracked as undeath claimed her corpse and rose up. Javert got up, took up the gold coins and walked up the stairs. The tavern didn't notice the two leave the basement. Udo only looked up from his cardgame when his master put the gold coin bag in front of him and walked passed him, the dead woman trailing behind him.
    Udo blinked confused at the sudden fortune. "T-thank you master!"


    Javert did not reply and went to his room. He made the zombie close the door behind him and made her stand in the closet with the other zombies he managed to retrieve. He sat down at his desk and waited. He sensed with his magic, tapping into Shyish to see if anyone was watching him. Safe for the zombies no-one else was tapping into any of the magical winds, let alone Shyish. Content he let out a sigh and a hand went to his pocket and retrieved the item within. A green stone filled with magic.
    He inspected the stone thoroughly. His fingertips brushed past it's rocky surface, feeling the raw power within. He closed his eyes and imagined the power he could wield with it. With whom he could bring back with it. He held his hand open and muttered a short spell, tapping into the wind of Ulgu. The desk changed a little as the spell took hold, allowing a small compartment to appear. Silently he thanked his wife, this was one of her spells.
    Javert opened the drawer to his desk, revealing more wyrdstones. Nearly a scorefull. Nearly enough to begin his experiments in earnest. He clutched the bag of ashes to his neck.
    "One more, Ilsa..." He whispered." One more..."


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  10. Jawajambalya Private

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    WAAAAAAAGH!!! Totally diggin this story so far cant wait to see more!
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  11. Gorvar Private

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    Glad you liked it man!
    Wanted to write a little story bout my warband for a while....and I couldn't resist throwing a dwarf in there for good measure.
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  12. Jawajambalya Private

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    Keep it up! love dwarfs #squat revival

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