My run-in with the Samoan Ogres

Where to begin?  It's hard to believe that only a year and a half ago I was official cartogropher on the Wave Slicer, in service to Emperor Karl Franz himself.  That tropical storm changed everything, stranding us somewhere in the Dragon Isles.  Fearing the legendary flora and fauna of these islands we were ecstatic upon finding signs of life - human life.  There were worn trails, obvious route markers and the carcasses of animals killed by skilled hands and tools.  How quickly our optimism changed upon walking flatfooted into the middle of an ogre encampment.  In the middle of the freaking jungles!!  Those creatures truly can survive anywhere.  If it hadn't been for the absolute (and completely sincere) awe I showed for the tribes Tyrant, combined with the "pretty pictures" I carried (my maps) I would have surely joined my fellows in the stewpot that very night.

Ahhh.  Tyrant Thaargh the Big.  I remember reading about the sizes Ogre leaders could reach in college, but nothing remotely close to representing Thaargh was ever written.  Standing both half again as tall and wide as the largest ogres in his tribe, Thaargh must weigh at least double his fattest Irongut.  It seems that nature does ballance out though.  Although ruthlessly cunning, Thaargh is a bit....simple.  This explains how my "pretty pictures" and calling out "oh my got it's enormous" saved my life at his hands.  He also has an extreme fondness for these little goblinoids the ogres call gnoblars.  As a result Thaargh apparently has gnoblars that are decidedly more diciplined than thier race normally is.  Nothing pleases Thaargh more than adding more of these little runts to his tribe, ensuring they get enough food to be content and keep him amused.

As my unfortunate collegues and myself stumbled upon the Ogre camp the ogres were getting ready for their anual migration.  Apparently the prowess of the tribes hunting quickly decimated all life around their camps and the tribe was force to move every year to allow the local animals to repopulate.  To my surprise I found myself riding upon the back of Thaargh himself as the entire tribe powered into the raging sea water without thought of preparation.  Half a day later they walked out upon the shore of another of the islands, apparently no worse for wear despite the disappearance of a good portion of the Gnoblars (who had been towed on ramshackle rafts I later found out).  Thaargh reassured me that each island was now well populated by the pests and it wouldn't be long before we were again suffocated by the vermin.

Just as I was becoming comfortable with my new life it was time for another migration.  Apparently the tribe butcher Golorg the Firestarter had been informed that the Great Maw had ordered the tribe on a great migration to a place of ultimate bounty.  He lead us to yet another island where we found a .... gateway, for lack of a better name.  Although I had never travelled to lustria I immediately thought the symbols were indicative of the temples found on that continent.  Thaargh pulled forth a gold trinket from around his neck, similarly adorned, and activated the gateway with a simple wave.  Stepping through it seemed nothing had changed... but it had.  Now we live in a jungle that moves with intelligence, with purpose.  Although the ogres seem ignorant of the change, the gnoblars and myself have taken notice of the increased lethality of our current environment.

If we truly are in Lustria then I may yet have a chance to return home to the Empire, if I can simply get to one of the human ports in this Sigmar forsaken land.  But for now I must stick with the Ogres.  There's no way I'm entering these jungles by myself!