TobiOgre's Gnoblog

Who am I?
Yeah, that's a question some people think about all their life, and the are called philosophers.
I don't think about that at all, my name is Tobias, I live in Germany, and I study law.



Oh, you are still reading this? I'm surprised. Many people think lawyers suck blood and money from other people and eat little children, but that is wrong. Actually, we leave  the little children alone because there is no sport in hunting them down. 
Seriously, I study law and hopefully I'm done with it this year or next, because I want to leave university and start earning money.
Which I'm probably going to 'waste' for my tabletop gaming hobby.

My tribe
I started playing, painting and all that in October 2005.
I bought a butcher because I liked the eavil nasty fat disgusting oh-my-god-do-not-haunt-me-in-my-nightmares-look of it.
Today, I have
1 Tyrant
2 Bruisers (in Germany, they are called "Brecher", which means breaker or crusher... ...the German translators for the rulebook and the army books are often wrong. I like Bruiser much better.
Ok, then there are
2 butchers
1 hunter
14 bulls
14 ironguts,
50 mighty earthshaking, devastating gnoblars
12+ trappers (don't know the exact number, it varies depending on the mood and appetite of my hunter and his two sabertusks).
And there are
2 gorgers
7 maneaters
1 scraplauncher,
8 leadbelchers,
4 yhetees and
Eberhard, my slave giant.
I think that's it. That's enough. If I had to feed them... 

Most of them are not painted very well because I wanted to get them ready for play as fast as I could. At the moment I try to improve their appearance.
And after I have painted them a little better I want to present them here.

I haven't thought about names for the tribe or for any of my ogres, but I will. And then, I'll present them here.
February 16: I have thought about a name for my Tyrant and I thought about his background a little bit. The story can be found here.

All of this sounds very good. I like your writing style, and am glad you made a gnoblog so soon after joining the site. I will follow this one very closely

JJ

p.s; In no way a derogatory question, just curious; how is your english so good?

Oh, thank you very much.

I liked English in school because it's much easier than German. 
And so, I started reading some English books in my free time, especially "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin, which I think is the best Fantasy book I ever read. (The Lord of the Rings has no rivals because it somehow created the whole Fantasy genre, in my opinion.)
And some weeks ago, I went to a sneak preview in our local cinema with the original voices. It was the Sherlock Holmes movie with Jude Law (I could understand what he said) and Freddie Prinze jr. (his accent was horrible and I couldn't understand much of the things he said.  ).
And if I can't remember a word, I look at http://www.dict.cc/.

Ah, very impressive indeed. Your english is nigh on perfect mate. Seriously good. Yeah, in that movie Freddie is hard to understand because most of the words he uses aren't generic or intrinsic to modern english. Some are older english, and some are just obsolete. I must say, I respect those who go out of their way to learn a new language

JJ

OK, these two guys have not been painted for a second time, but I will present them here nevertheless.

One of my Maneaters who spent a little time in Cathay.
(By the way: Maneaters are called "Vielfrasse" in the German army book. That is the German word for wolverines or gluttons.   
Not funny. Just embarrassing!
And my second Butcher who somehow must have killed an orcish shaman mounted on a boar whilst I wasn't watching him. Since that moment, he has this...stuff (don't know how it's called in English) on his back.

The term you may be looking for is Totem or Bannerpole

Nice work T! Very good. I like the maneater especially.

JJ

Oh. Hmmm....okay. Totem is exactly the same word in German, but it didn't come to my mind.

Sweet looking Ogres!

Still no release date for "A Dance with Dragons", eh? Martin is ticking me off right now, especially after that snooze fest called "A Feast for Crows".   

Not only is your English good - but I really like your writing style.

This has intruiged me about your gnoblog and the pictures only help!

I really like both the models, the banner pole/totem a nice addition to the butcher and the colour schemes to both are great also.

BB

I thought about a name for my Tyrant and my tribe of ogres.
And I found out how my Tyrant became Tyrant. Here's the story:

"Smashup Greatbloke"

Smashup Greatbloke is a great bloke. In all possible ways you can be a great bloke.
He was the youngest of 6 not-so-cute ogres born to Skullcracker Braindrinker Greatbloke, and he was the smartest of these 6, which means he was smarter than most of the things that had the great honor to end in his hungry gut.
And his 5 brothers were even greater blokes than him. All of them were so dump that they waited years and years and watched their brothers grow stronger and stronger but didn't start to think that one of them might challenge and eat them to become the next Tyrant.
Perhaps they even thought that Skullcracker Braindrinker was immortal.
Whatsoever, Smashup proved them all wrong after he killed them one after the other by smashing their blokish heads against his club (or was it the other way round?):

That day, he decided to become Tyrant.
His father had grown old, his Bruisers were old, their Ironguts' weapons were rusty and Smashup called them wobbly-guts. The time when these guys had swallowed knights and swords by the dozen were long gone.
So, he appeared before his father and said something no one understood. So, his father looked at him in the dumb way he always looked at things he couldn't grasp and bellowed at him “Repeat!”
Pretending to be the obedient son, Smashup repeated the incomprehensible drivel.
Now Skullcracker got angry:“Repeat! You son of a moron!”
He leaned forward in hope of understanding what the heck his son was up to. And then the truth dawned upon him as Smashup raised his club as if from nowhere and SMASHED Skullcracker's face while shouting in suddenly “coherent” words: “Me wants t' have YER fer lunch!”
Skullcracker roared red with anger, blinded by blood in his eyes. “I goin' to eat YOU this evening! Ungrat'ful son of a blind fool!”

They entered the pit. They circled each other, both swearing, one already bleeding and half blind. Then, Skullcracker made his last mistake: He raised his hammer high over his head, screaming loudly like he had done so many times when he smashed thinlings by the hundreds. Thinlings could poke and stab at his mighty gut whilst it was unprotected as much as they liked, but here it was no prancing elf, no bearded stump in dwarven armour and no man he had to face.
And Smashup smashed his father's...well, it even hurt the male ogres watching them.
Skullcracker went to the ground, his hammer falling from his numb hands. His last words sounded like thin air of a gentle breeze.  And then, Smashup made short work of him.

One may ask: How could a  great bloke like Greatbloke come up with a 'cunning plan' like this? Blinding his close-to-late father before entering the pit? Well, Smashup may be a little silly.
But his luck gnoblar Kobby is not. And he used just the same trick to kill Smashups first luck gnoblar, Pitch, and take over this great position.
So, all Smashup had to do was to grasp this might be a good way to kill his father. And trust me, that was hard enough!

Right after becoming Tyrant, Smashup decided there had to be a feast. The problem was, it was winter, the hunters had to go far to find food, and they had left the caves just 3 days ago.
So, Smashup killed two birds with one stone (no, not literally. How could you possibly call two birds a feast for an ogre tribe?) by killing his fathers Bruisers and Iron...I mean, Wobbly-guts with the help of his friends and cousins.
And they were roasted and toasted and tasty.
And so, Smashup Greatbloke became Tyrant and me, Kobby, became Big Boss Kob of all the gnoblars in the Greatbloke Tribe; and pen to put his glory down in writing on the walls of his cave.

Incredible. Truly awesome writing. I liked that. Is there going to be more?

JJ

I really like your Butcher.  How's the rest of the painting coming?

Well, I think there's going to be more writing. I'll have to give some nice chunks of flesh to Kobby and he'll translate what he painted onto the walls of the caves. 

Concerning the painting...
Unfortunately, it's hard for me to motivate myself. Since 2005, my gnoblar fighters are not really painted. 
They don't like that, and neither do I.
Wait, I will take a look if I have something I can take a photo of...

OK. I just decided I don't have to repaint my whole army.
In my opinion, most of the unique minis are painted quite well.
So, I'll just have to do some of the bulls, leadbelchers and ironguts again. And 50 gnoblars. 
Argh!
But, here is my hunter and his tomcats, two of "his" trappers, the imperial maneater and the representative female minority of my tribe...

All looking great - and I love the fluff you've written - the more of it there is the more I'm enjoying it! great stuff!

The only comment I can make (the pics are a little small) is that the bases on the trappers are a little messy, the sides seem covered with sand/flock also but only partially. Either way it doesn't fit in with your other bases, so a bit of scraping is required for that uniform look!

Thanks.
I did the bases of the trappers that way intentionally. They are skirmishers, so they have a formation in close combat, and nowhere else.
On the other hand, the unique look is a good argument. 

I don't know how to post bigger pictures without using some kind of webspace. Of course I could try to post 125kb -pictures, two pictures in one posting. That way they'd be bigger and I wouldn't have to use some webspace.... maybe I'll try.

Sweet looking Ogres!

Still no release date for "A Dance with Dragons", eh? Martin is ticking me off right now, especially after that snooze fest called "A Feast for Crows".   

OM*G!
I must have overlooked that...I also think that Feast was not such a good book...compared to the normal phantasy books, it is still an absolutely great one, but in comparison with the Game of Thrones and the Clash it is...some kind of boring.

I want to know more about Bran. He is not in that book.
I want to know more about Tyrion. He is not in that...but you knew that. 

At least Arya was in FEAST, and so was Sansa...and I like her POV-chapters since she is with Littlefinger...

It is really nasty:
We have to wait for the DANCE.
We have to wait for the ogre AB.
 

Lest this Gnoblog falls asleep and dies, I think I will think about some story about a maneater or something while I paint my BSB.
And I will think about larger pictures again.

------------------------------------------------------

As to my tribe, they had a fight with some Dark Elves a week ago.
1000 points, it was a training game for me, but especially for my girlfriend who has not been playing Warhammer Fantasy for 4 or 5 years now.

She is even worse than me at playing WHFB. I hope I am allowed to say that...I'll ask her.

No, I'm not.
I don't care.


Just kidding.

Let's be honest, we are both not that good because we seldom play WHFB.


In the last year, most of the time I played WH 40k with my friends and suffered defeat after defeat.
I play Black Templars, and I have a Chaos Army of Nurgle, Space Wolves, Tyranides or a green flood against me.
Hooray!

The only thing that's a little fun is painting and modelling.
But I don't because I find myself in front of my PC again, surfing through forums and killing artificial Germans in a computer game at the moment...Call of Duty 2...
it's a little old, I know, but so is my computer.

I lost my point...have a nice weekend!

Another battle fought, another battle...won? Lost?

I don't know. The bretonian player I had to face forgot that a unit of knights loses the benefits of the prayer if they act cowardly in any way.

And since my Tyrant challenged every challengeable knight in reach of his arms and his Oh-so-beloved-if-you-dare-to-even-think-about-touching-it-I-will-do-something-horrible-to-ya-Tenderizer and literally every knight refused to become lunch! Thinling cowards!!

And the general was a damsel. A damsel as a general!

You know what?

If someone asks and just for the chronicles (and NO, I don't mean the ones of Narnia):
I.
WON. 

Still, no more pictures...no time to put some paint on an ogre...

Since there's a constant lack of further pictures here, I'll try to compensate by adding another story to this gnoblog.
So here we go...

...“for the night is dark and full of terror“*

The night was one of those dark nights, the sky covered with clouds that looked like a storm- lashed ocean, and since they were nearly as wet the rain soaked the earth.
Yusa was standing at the front door of his masters' mansion that was surrounded by walls crowned with spikes as long as a man's arm. The only gate in that wall was guarded as well and only a hundred feet down the path, nevertheless Yusa was unable to see it. The darkness was too thick, the rain too heavy.
The master was afraid. He was a rich and powerful man, as a result he had rich and powerful enemies, and he had done harm to one of them some weeks ago: He had snatched a deal from under another merchant's nose worthy some fortunes.
And when rich and powerful become afraid, they hire men with weapons, and Yusa had a weapon and a constant lack of capital thanks to the town's brothels.
While he was thinking about one of these nice places to become a little warm the mansions' front door opened, and two men in heavy armour appeared.
Change of guards.
“Oh no” he thought. Now he'd have to go to the gate where it was even colder and there was no roof so he would be wet and chilled to the bone before he could say frostiness.
Yusa and Li started moving towards the gate, the two other guards stood right and left to the front door, taking over their position.

As Yusa moved towards the gate, he wondered how long this would go on.
Twice as long guarding the house of this old merchant every night, twice as long feeling bored because nothing ever happened, which proved Li right who had commented on the doubling of the guards: “The master has affronted some rats again, and now he is terrified by the thought of an infestation. He should have hired a trapper, not us. The trapper would be much cheaper.”
On the other hand, that way it was easy money, so he shouldn't be complaining.

Then came the shock like a punch in the face.
There was no front gate anymore. Well, it was there somehow, but it was lying on the floor, neatly unhinged, and the guards were gone.
Li had seen it a moment earlier since he wasn't deep in thought and he turned and screamed alarm already.
Yusa rushed to the gate, and then he saw the guards or what was left of them. Someone had killed both of them with such brutal force that their bodies were...everywhere.
Li shouted:” Why didn't we hear it?”
“The door or the carnage?”, Yusa asked, distracted by shock and oddly calm at once.
“Where have they gone? We'll have to search the whole premises for them. Who the hell would unhinge a freaking gate?”
“Me.” said a voice in the dark.
Then death and darkness leapt at them.
And something that was small, green and grinning.
Strange.

Master Yong was sitting at a table overloaded with tablets again overloaded with delicious food. Too much for one man, but who'd care?
He could not touch a bit of it.
He had a queasy feeling.
His hands were trembling.
His legs were shaking.
They had told him someone was out there, killing the guards.
Now they were standing at the only door to this hall, and something about the unknown offenders was making them nervous as well, which was frightening Master Yong even more than the offenders did.
They all flinched when there was a soft knock at the door.
The guards pointed their weapons at the door, building a semicircle.
“Who is it?” one of the men shouted.
“Is just me. Dork. Please open door” a squeaky voice said.
One of the guards turned at Master Yong, frowning. “Who is Dork, Master?”
“I...I...don't know...Dork”, Yong answered.
“Please open door”, it squeaked again.
The guard looked at Yong, the question “Shall we...?” carved into his nervous face.
“NO!” Yong shouted at him. “Are you crazy? Go...out...go...kill them!”
“Open door, or Dork 'll do so”, followed by sniggering.
“We have to open the door to go out and kill them, Master. There is no other door.”
Angry, Yong rose, leaned on the table and nagged: “Open the door and I will have your belly opened!”
There was a thud at the door, and then it started to open inwards although it had been build to open the other way.
The guards drew back, lifting their weapons.

At the threshold, there was a goblin with an abominably big nose, dressed in red silken trousers, unarmed but for the insolent smirk on his nasty face.
And then, the wretched creature took a bow and squeaked: “Good night, Yong. I have to tell yer...
The guards came at him all at once, stabbing at him like nobody's business.
But they just stabbed thin air cause the creature moved quick as a snake, ducking away under the cuts, flic- flaccing back into the antechamber.
The guards followed, roaring at the goblin.
When they were just out of the hall, the wooden wall the door was built into collapsed because something had been hanging on it outside in the antechamber and right above the door.

Something that was ten feet tall, a ton of muscles and armed with a sword as large as a man.
Under its impact, three of the guards died, and after the thing had flailed once, the rest was gone, too.
Then, it turned.
Under a mask of cloth, a mouth large enough to swallow a pig opened and an avalanche- like laughter that made even the walls tremble with fear filled the hall.
Soaked with sweat, Yong cowered at the table, and when he asked “Wh....who...s..s..sent...you?”, his voice was shriller than the goblin's.
“Sent?” the thing asked, apparently worried.
It turned its massive head, looking at the goblin who came back from the vestibule.
“Who sent us, Dork?” it grumbled.
“No one, Master”, the two- legged insolence said, bowing.
“Oh. Yes.”
The thing turned again, looking at Master Yong.
“No one”, it grinned, adding “that was him name.”
The goblin rolled his evil red eyes, bowed again and told the wooden polished floor: “No offense meant, Master, but no one sent us. It was you Greatness who wanted t' come 'ere.”
The thing ripped the cloth from its face which was a bad idea since the goblin's mug was ten times easier to look upon than this crime of the gods.
The mouth in the mentioned crime opened and dim enlightenment came up on the face.
“Who sent you? Was it....Master San-To?” Yong was still trebling, but his voice was calmer now for some reason.
“San-To”, the thing repeated. “San-To?”
“No, Master. No one. 't was your great plan t' come here.”, the floor was told again.
“Oh.”
Then the thing came closer, with large steps.
“Please don't kill me! I have gold, much gold!” Yong screamed, knocking over his chair, retreating to the backmost corner of the hall.
Two dull eyes eyed Yong suspiciously. The thing had stopped at the overloaded table.
It grabbed the next best duck and swallowed it. The duck was followed by further poultry, and all the flesh was drowned in a small pool of sake.
The goblin jumped onto the table and began to devour everything small enough to fit into his small hands.

Yong stared at the feast with a mixture of fear and loathing and decided to stay silent.

After half an hour of burping, slurping and other melodic sounds, the table wasn't overloaded anymore which couldn't be said about the belly of the beasts.
The thing began to inspect the hall after the most interesting piece of furniture had been cleared of its load.
Its eyes stopped at Yong, and the thing seemed surprised as if it had forgotten he was there.
It pointed at the empty plates and said: ”Tasty”, grinning at Yong.
Yong nodded his approval.
“Now me's rich” the fat thing said. “Ogre”, it came to Yong's head at last, the name of those beasts was “ogre”.
That must have been a private joke or something because the goblin started to convulse with laughter that turned into the most disgusting burp Yong had ever heard.
“Master never rich. Always hungry” it managed to say after that, looking at Yong like a teacher looks at his dumbest pupil.
The ogre looked pleased.
Then it walked from the hall.
“Come, Dork! Long way t' them mounta'ns.”
Dork jumped from the table, hesitated, and turned around to face Yong.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
And laughing, it went.

Totally stunned, Yong sat in his corner, waiting for someone to enter the room and clean up the mess the ogre had left behind.
Surely some of the servants must have survived the mess?

But it was no shivering servant who entered the room at last, it was an assassin sent by San-To.
He came at Yong, his sword still in the scabbard.
He knelt, looked at Yong in amazement, and said:” Before I kill you...what kind of natural disaster haunted you?”



*This is taken from the „Song of Ice and Fire“ books by G.R.R.M..
It's part of the oath the Men of the Night's Watch have to swear to become...yeah, you guessed right: Men of the Night's Watch.

Smashup Greatbloke entered the yurt, his favoured Pet Gnoblar Kobby perched on his right shoulder, so he could whisper secrets to his Tyrant (and sharpen his wits, of course, but never mind that, and especially don't tell him!).
Whatsoever, one of the dumbest and strongest killing machines of the Mountains of Mourne entered this particular yurt and kicked at a vaguely human form wrapped up in blankets and furs and opened his jaws.
Then his mouth closed again, and his expression changed from angry to troubled and then to something you could just read if you knew the enormous ogre, otherwise you probably would have guessed he was concentrating on a painful spot in his gigantic body.
Fortunately, Kobby was in the know. That expression always showed up when Smashup had forgotten what he just wanted to say or smash, but never, what he wanted to eat, of course.
That would have been a shame, especially for an ogre, most notably for a Tyrant.
Imagine an ogre tribe realizing his Tyrant is too dumb to know what he likes to eat!
But then, Smashups tribe was not very smart, since Smashup liked killing ogres who talked too much and used too many secret and bright words like that idiot of a leadbelcher from last week who always had to say "my Empire Great Cannon" instead of simply saying "me gun". Well, he stopped saying that empire stuff when Smashup stuffed (hur, hur) that cannon into that leadbelcher's mouth and told Sparky to “lighta-fuse”. Unfortunately, Smashup used too much powder, and his left ear was still deaf, therefore Kobby was sitting on his Tyrant's right shoulder for all that ear- whispering.)
Oops, I got carried away.
Well, the aforementioned form in the blankets moved, and a human head lifted slowly. A sleepy voice asked: "What's up? I was sleeping!"
"..."
"Smashup? What is it you want?"
"...urgh...erm..."
Kobby's tiny voice, whispering into his Tyrant's ear.
"I want to get up!"
"You stand in my yurt, so you already did that. Congratulations, big oaf!"
More whispering, Smashup asking: "Sure?", then Kobby nodding with a deadly serious expression.
"I want YOU to get up! And I is not Big Oaf, I am Smashup! Big Oaf is our butcher, thinling.”
“I know who Big Oaf is. Big oaf. Well, I don't want to get up, Smashup, since I love too sleep and I'm very lazy, you know?”
“If you don't get up, I'm gonna beat you senseless!”
“Although that was another pointless thing your hazelnut of a brain just produced, I think I'd really love to get up, Smashup Greatbloke, my mighty Tyrant” said the human being while getting up like a bat out of hell.
Then it staggered, and sat down on the next best stool, muttering something about hypotension.
Smashup looked at the thinling and then looked for a chair suitable for his large ar...(erm)...largeness.
But there was just the floor, and since he didn't like sitting on the floor he took the thinling, left the yurt and made for his most royal cave.

There, he sat down in his throne and dropped the thinling in front of it.
Then he tried to remember something, which triggered another few whispering sounds from Kobby, and then Smashup said: “You know what, Kobby, you do the talking, I'm hungry.”
So Kobby looked at the thinling and started talking, but had to raise his voice after some heartbeats of an ogre because Smashup had started to..., well, let's euphemistically say “eat”:
“All right, so, we had a letter- gnoblar this morning. He had a letter, naturally, from one of our secret rumour- gnoblars, therefore said letter was full of rumours and scribblings.
It seems there is an impending evolvement in the ogre kingdoms introduced by some distant tribe called GW. I don't know what that abbreviation means, and I don't care.
Well, this GW seems to own some monsters that have not been seen in the Mountains since...well, they've never been seen.
And they also have found some canons from the sky-titans, and their “Master-of-Engineering- Gnoblars” have replaced some of their scraplaunching-devices with those canons, calling them “Ironblasters”. And they also put wheels under their scraplaunchers!
Those Master-of-Engineering-Gnoblars must be very clever, or so maw-darn insane...or is it modern insane, hee, hee, that it is already geniously clever again, and we want them or at least their construction plans, so our silly “Master-of-Disastrous-Heckmachines-of-Doom- Gnoblar” (MoDHoD-G) and his looneycrew can figure out what's the difference between his cretinism and a genius or at least insane mind, and start building some of those machines.
And Smashup wants at least one of those Stonehorns...”
“STONEHORNS!” bellowed Smashup, covering the thinling with gore and blood, major ingredients of his breakfast.
“... so he can smash and stomp that gigantic spider that showed up in our last encounter with my distant cousins of hallucinogenic mushroom addicts. You know how much Smashup hates spiders, and the larger the spider...!”
“OK, and what about those ogres on catrhinhyenas? Does he want some of those, too?”
“How do you know their names?”
“I just made it up. I'm an insane genius, Kobby.”
“Oh, that's good for you. As for those beasts, we don't want them at the moment because they look as ridiculous as the name you just insanely made up sounds. Our little rumour gnoblars will send a picture taken from another angle, then we decide if we want them or not.”
“A scraplauncher, too?”
“Yes, we only have got one left, thanks to our MoDHoD-G and his crew of Not- Luckgnoblars, and that one looks really awful since yesterday.”
“Because...?”
“The MoDHoD-G cave entrance. Height. Width. Rhinox angry. Too fast. Uncontrollable. Disaster.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Does our Tyrant also want an Ironblaster?”
“Of course.”
“Compensation, eh?”
Grinning, Kobby answered:”No, representation. And he wants to make fun of the next Empire General who shows up with some...”, and he leaned close to the thinling, whispering,”Empire “Great” Canon...”
“What did you say?” asked Smashup.
“Me gun”, answered the thinling, Smashup returned to his meal, and with a relieved expression on his face, Kobby continued:
“...and laugh about how small that “Great” thing is.”
Nodding, the thinling wrote something on a peace of paper, then asked:
Kobby, one question.”
“Yes, please?”
“Why do I have to go to that GW tribe and fetch all those things? And why do I have to go right now?”
“It takes a long time to reach that tribe, and you will have to persuade them to sell their new toys. I don't think that will take long, since it is said that tribe is even more greedy than Greasus Fatar...”
“KOBBY, don't use that word!”
“...abia, what were you thinking?”
“Fatarabia? Kobby, could you please tell me who that is supposed to be?”
“...Overtyrant Greasus Fatarabia Goldtooth, everybody knows him.”
“I think you made that name up, I mean that second part. I've never heard it.”
“Oh, it's just known by some very clever Gnoblars.”
“Of course!”
“Naturally”
“Shut up, Kobby”
“You shut up and go to GW!”
“I don't want to. Why can't you do it?”
“Because Smashup and me, we are just two characters you invented to write a story filling your Gnoblog that is in dire need of some more pictures, especially pictures of painted Gnoblars.”
“Oh. That's true, you got a point.”

OK, I pledged to get 25 Fighters done this month. Let's leave my fantasy, I'll grab my paints and my brushes, and put some colours on a few green minis.
New AB equals more motivation.
I hope.

25 Gnoblar Fighters I will pledge or have pledged to finish until August 31st:

Not only is you English stellar, your painting is too!

I actually prefer the name 'crusher' to 'bruiser', 'bruiser' sounds like the name of a 10 year old school-yard bully!

Thank you so much, rob_alderman! 

One problem I did not mention in my first post is that the German word "Brecher" and the corresponding verb "brechen", so "(to) break" also is used in another way: It also is used to say "(to) vomit".
So when hearing "Brecher" I always think about a large ogre (carrying the Battle Standard) who is constantly vomiting.
Hilarious.   

Though that does sound very ogrey, doesn't it?

Oh, never looked at it in this way...