28 Jan 2010
Chari polished his longsword, rubbing the sweet-scented elixir onto the shining blade. he looked nervously out the carriage window, there was no place that made him doubt his calling as a caravan guard more than the Mountains of Mourn; they were dark, foreboding, and teeming with beasts and ogres. of course since the rise of the Over-tyrant raids had decreased, but this place still gave him the creeps. he opened the roof hatch and stood out into the cool air, the caravan stretching for miles in either direction. all seemed calm and Chari convinced himself of safety when the first of the hulking shapes charged out of the valley. 3 ogres barreled towards the convoy surrounded by a sea of dirty green gnoblars. more turned the corner, first 5, then 10, then 15 ogres approached, am massive bruiser bedecked in iron and bloody cloth roared, a primal bellow that shook the earth. There was no need to call alarm, the beasts were as loud as an avalanche, and just as powerful. a bull smashed into the caravan train, his club crushing the skull of an oxen in a single swing, and he ripped the still beating heart out of the poor animal in a single bite. he jumped from the carriage and artfully span his blade into the bull's hamstring. the sword barely penetrated the inch thick sinew but the creature fell, nearly crushing him in the process. He had been lucky, the ogre had been distracted by the fresh meat and he was fresh, well rested and with a razor edge on his weapon. An angry thundering shout rang across the caravan, and images of snapping bone and sweet glistening blood filled his mind. he knew the bones and blood were his own. an enormously fat ogre swung his bladed stumps at a guard just 10 feet away, ripping him in half, a crimson fountain pluming from his severed waist. the butcher was covered head to toe in gore and the stench of death, his cavernous apron a mockery of the fine silks worn by Cathay's culinary masters. the butcher pierced him through the stomach, his luck had run out. not a drop of his precious lifeblood had touched the floor as the shaman swallowed him whole. Trag the Corpulent savoured the light spicy crunch of the thinling-man, and looked for his next snack. there was nothing left. Trag grabbed the dying ogre crippled by his leg injury and started feasting on his fatty muscle, the bull's screams adding to the flavour of the meat. the meal caught and killed, the Fleshgorgers began to eat in earnest.
OK so this is my gnoblog. i got my first ogre models today, a battalion, and i am starting my new tribe the Fleshgorgers who eat a lot even compared to others of their race. i think i'm going to follow the excessive gore shown in a white dwarf a while back but apart from that they are going to be quite normal. i have already built my first bull to get the feel of things, but am leaving the arms off till after painting as they look like they would get in the way. i have also converted my first butcher, with substantial levels of milliput. pictures will be posted up soon.
OK so this is my gnoblog. i got my first ogre models today, a battalion, and i am starting my new tribe the Fleshgorgers who eat a lot even compared to others of their race. i think i'm going to follow the excessive gore shown in a white dwarf a while back but apart from that they are going to be quite normal. i have already built my first bull to get the feel of things, but am leaving the arms off till after painting as they look like they would get in the way. i have also converted my first butcher, with substantial levels of milliput. pictures will be posted up soon.
Chaosbeast's Fleshgorgers: http://www.ogrestronghold.com/forum/index.php?topic=15111.0
