Tale of # gamers

Tale of # Gamers: Gobshite goes to Waaagh

I had my first Tale of # Gamers battle yesterday against one of the architects of To#G, Joshua Longden himself and his Nurgle daemons.

It was a very close run thing, with two armies bent on battering each another to death at close quarters will little effective shooting. The combat became a swirling melee of pus and choppas. Culminating with the two Warlords, Warboss Gobshite and Horticulous Slimux clashing in the ruins of an Imperial Outpost. All lesser (im)mortals had been stuck down. Ultimate Horticulous was the strongest and was left standing alone on the the battlefield.

Horticulous Slimux glollopped his faithful steed Mulch towards the ruins of the Imperial outpost. The tall walls would make a fine place to build a little orchard for his Master. The damp cracks would soon shelter a multitude of pestilent seeds. Horticulous turned to towards the shuffling host that followed him. “Hurry you snivelling and… aha sniffling morons. We have the Grandfathers work to be doing.” The shuffling increased in pace slightly. Slightly satisfied Horticulous turned to review the skyline. All he needed now was some fertiliser…

“BOSS”

“BOSS”

“BOSS”

yelled Zognob over the roar of the Battlewagons engine.

“WOT?” retorted Warboss Gobshite also struggling to shout loud enough as the hunk of rattling metal smashed along at surprising speed.

“I SEE SOME OF THEM WARP FINGS OVER THERE”

“WOT?”

“OVER THERE, SOME WARP FINGS”

“WOT?” Gobshite shouted again but turned anyway to see a flash of putrescent yellow disappear behind a low wall.

Reaching down, Gobshite grabbed one of the steering levers of the Battlewagon. With a shudder and a scream of tortured metal, the Battlewagon went up on one track, made an unhealthily sharp turn and bumped back down to earth, careering through a pile of ferrocrete.

“WOT DO THEY WANT BOSS?” shouted Zognob.

“IT DON’T MATTER” the Warboss yelled back. Overcome by the thrill of impending battle, Gobshite started firing their Shoota into the air and the other Boys soon joined in. After all surprise was for finks like Bloodaxes…

Gobshite paused. The blinding rage of the Waaagh! was starting to die down a little. The Warboss became aware that there weren’t many of the horrible smelly fings around anymore. Come to think of it, there weren’t many boys left either. Looking around, Gobshite could see that there were no boys left. Gobshite remembered having to knock Zognob out himself to stop the last boys from running, shortly before they were eaten by some giant flying fing. It was just him and a big slimey snail fing left, standing in the ruins of a hummie shack. Gobshite was about to charge in and hit the snail fing and the little stringy smelly fing on top when he had a moment of doubt. Maybe Gobshite should leave. The snail fing looked pretty vicious and them fly boys had been cutting big gouges out of Gobshites armour. It wasn’t running away though because the warp fings were cheating. They were cheating because they weren’t real and they didn’t have loot to nick. Better just to leave and find a real opponent to fight.

Horticulous watched the biggest and now only Ork run out of sight. Still it had plenty of fine material to be working with and it might have been more trouble than it was worth to kill it. Horticulous surveyed the burning wrecks of the vehicles and came to the conclusion that none of its useless cretins had managed to hang onto physical form in the materium. Horticulous hurrumphed. This was not quite a total victory. It would be a pain to bring forth more minions and much more importantly Horticulous would have to do all the heavy lifting itself. “Still” it thought “idle hands are the Devils playthings”. It climbed down from Mulch and started to drag the Orks into the lea of the ruins.

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