The Plain of Crows Part 3: The Battle Rounds 1-3...

 Lord Thorrir's Deployment!

 

 Lord Thorrir's Companies advance out of the elemental plane of bricks and drywall and onto the Plain of Crows.  Order of deployment from left (foreground) to right (background) is:  Red Dragons, King's Axes, Skull Poppers, (With Old Hamm) and the bolt thrower.

 Units are deployed in even line abreast.  Front of base for all units is 8" from rear table edge.

Yellow string on my board marks left and right table edges.  Red Dragons are set up about 4 inches from (my) left table edge.  (From now on, we might consider establishing a North/South/East/West for internet games, just to help make it plain who is where and in which direction they are facing.)  Or maybe not.  I dunno.

Spacing between each of the infantry companies is about 2 inches.

Bolt Thrower is deployed 7" to the right of the Skull Popper's flank...Ach!  Eclipse!  Must work on improving the lighting situation in the war room prior to next game...

Private Weird's Table can be seen at his site,  here...

 The battlefield on my table...immediately prior to P.W.'s first turn...



    
                                                                   Round One

Table at the end of P.W.'s first turn...He has moved his entire line of battle forward their full six inches, and launched his wizard, via a flight spell, to within 7 inches of my bolt thrower.  On his right flank, he has formed his crossbowmen into a wedge...


View Lord Asgard's opening moves on Private Weird's table, here

...As Borrin Basherson led his Red Dragons out onto the plain of crows, and saw the great black birds skipping here and there amoung the heaps of ancient bones, he was chilled by a dark premonition, a fang of fear and doubt that cut at his heart...  A long line of dwarves stood upon the dark plain opposite Borrin and his comrades.  In the hands of some he could see short, powerful bows that looked like they might pack as fearful a punch as a crossbow.  Borrin and his lads had no bows with which to shoot back.  

Then the strangers began to sing, a deep bass rumbling and roaring that swelled and rolled across the dreary plain, and that was very odd, for the Dwarves of the Thunder Mount never sang in battle, but went into the fight grim and silent as death.  Suddenly Something jumped up quick in Borrin's mind, a memory from long ago of himself as a boy sitting at the feet of the old veteran, One-eye Wooden-leg, and listening in awe to old one-eye's tales of blood and death and glory.  "You take it from me, boy, said One-eye, drawing on his pipe, his lone blue orb blazing above his grey beard. Never volunteer.  Never volunteer for nothin'!!!"

"And here I am, thought Borrin,  I volunteered to accompany Lord Thorrir.  Perhaps not the smartest thing I've ever done."  Ach.  Forget it.  Such thoughts won't do.  He shook the darkness from him and led his battle brothers forward.  The Red Dragons occupied the left flank of the line of battle.  On their right, the King's Axes shifted their great blades off their shoulders and advanced in line with Borrin's company.  All along the line the Dwarves of  Thunder Mount advanced...


 Movement Phase: 

I move all my infantry companies straight forward their full three inches...

On the Far right of the Thunder Mountain Dwarves' line, the Crew of the Bolt Thrower Jenni Troll Spitter watched as the strange Dwarves stepped off and began advancing rapidly toward them in a long line.  Old Snorri Hawkeye, the spotter, gauged their rate of march through his spyglass as the crew screwed one of the great bolts back into it's sticking-place and leveled the giant crossbow at an oncoming company of Lord Asgard's Unifiers...
"Elevation:  seventeen!  Fix it there!  Alright lads...Here they come...Ready...5...4...3..."

There was a crack and a flash like thunder and lighting from the enemy lines and suddenly, with a great shout, a tall (for a dwarf) proud figure leapt skyward. Straight up out of the ranks of Lord Asgard's Unifiers he sprang, high into the air...impossibly high... his wild white beard and robes billowing about him, his blue eyes blazing, he looked down upon the Thunder mountain Dwarves from on high and shouted.
"LOOK!  He bellowed in a voice like an avalanche,  See what I can do!"
Like a falling star, he plummeted toward the ground and alighted a few yards in front of the startled crew of Jenni Troll Spitter, the power of his magic crackling about him, even as he touched the earth.

The bolt thrower crew glanced at each other for an instant, then, as one and without a word, bent immediately over their weapon, swung it round toward the wizard and launched one of their fearsome bolts directly at him...

Shooting Phase:  I fire my bolt thrower at the wizard.  I need a 4, 5 or 6 to hit, and roll a 6!  The war Gods like me today.  To wound the Wizard's toughness 4 with my strength 5 weapon, I need a 3 or better and roll a 5.  I'm on a roll.  My bolt thrower inflicts d4 wounds.  Anything but a 1 will kill the wizard.  My luck finally goes south as I roll a 1.  Still, pretty good.

In the front ranks of  Lord Thorrir's Skull Poppers, Old Hamm Hanson, the Wizard of the Thunder Mountain expeditionary Force, saw the enemy wizard no sooner touch the ground than be speared by a bolt from Jenni Troll Spitter.  Incredibly, the Wizard didn't fall.  The gallant old Dwarf staggered back, dragging the bolt from his body with a tremendous effort of will and casting it aside contemptuously. 

Hamm didn't hesitate. Stepping forward from out of the ranks of the Skull Poppers, he called upon the powers of the elementals, felt a terrific heat gathering within him and all about him...In an instant he was wreathed in smoke and flame!  Gathering a portion of this dreadful power into one of his gnarled old hands, he launched a ball of concentrated flame-power at the reeling wizard.

 Off balance from the pain of his wound, the courageous sorcerer was overcome by old Hamm's magic and consumed by the terrible fireball...

Magic Phase:  Old Hamm needs a 10 or lower to pass his spell casting check this turn and rolls a cool 3.  He throws his fireball.  He rolls to see how many wounds he inflicts and rolls a 5.  3 wounds.  at strength 3, his fireballs need a 5 or 6 to wound Lord Asgard's wizard.  I roll two 3's and one 5.
Success.

Borrin Basherson saw a cloud of flame and smoke blossom on the far side of the Dwarven line and heard a roar of approval from his comrades on the right flank and center.  He couldn't see what had happened, but it sounded good...well, whatever had happened, they were still outnumbered, and these Unifiers still looked like tough customers.  Ahead of him, he could see the enemy archers reforming into a wedge.  He knew there was no way he could reach them before their arrows began to fall inside his formation.  Some of his brothers would die.

On the right flank Lord Thorrir grinned through the drifting smoke as he jogged forward with his Skull Poppers..  The joy of battle was rising in his limbs, and his mighty Thunder Hammer was light in his hand...

Reserve Move Phase:
On the left and center my Red Dragons and King's Axes move forward 3 inches...The Skull Poppers and bolt thrower, who were engaged this turn, cannot exploit the reserve move phase and lag behind a bit now.

Round Two

The battlefield at the end of Private Weird's second turn, seen from behind P.W.'s lines.  P.W.  is shuffling Lord Asgard's company toward his right flank, screening them with his spear regiment as they move.  The crossbows fire at the Skull Poppers and have inflicted 2 wounds on them. The rest of the army advances slowly but menacingly toward the Lord Thorrir's line.

You can watch Private Weird take his turn here!

On the Left flank of the Thunder Mountain line, Borrin Basherson heard the Captain of Lord Asgard's crossbowmen shout a command and braced himself.  To his surprize, the arbalestiers turned away from him and fired across the Red Dragons' front, toward the Thunder Mountain right.

"Heads up, Lads!"  shouted Lord Thorrir as a shower of bolts arced toward them.  Instinctively, the Dwarves hunched forward, as if they were marching into a strong wind, trying to make themselves smaller.  One bolt rang off Lord Thorirr's gleaming shield, but another buried itself in a Skull Popper's thigh.  The Dwarf shouted angrily and fell out of line, trying vainly to pull the barbed shaft from his leg.  He was soon left far behind his mates. 

Private Weird's crossbows score two wounds on the Skull Poppers.  I roll a 1 and a 6 for their armor saves.  1 Skull Popper down.

As the armies closed the distance between their lines the companies began to jostle and maneuver for advantage.  With a shout, Lord Thorirr ordered his line to pivot left and wheel forward. A drum rustled and trumpets rang as the Thunder Mountain line swumg sharply forward, pivoting smoothly on Lord Thorirr's Skull Poppers...


Movement Phase:


The entire Dwarf line wheels 90 degrees left, with the front left trooper in each formation moving a full three inches from his start point....
...the front right corner of Ol' Hamm Hanson's base should be just about exactly 11' from Mouse's table edge when the move is finished.

Shooting Phase:

On the fire right, Jenni Troll Spitter's crew swung her round and back onto the enemy regiment they had initially targeted.  They couldn't afford to make any mistakes...Only they and their war machine stood between the enemy army and Lord Thorirr's flank, but their blood was up now and they quickly gauged the distance and fired at the 12-strong company of Dwarves nearest to Lord Asgard's spearmen.  Fierce exhultation gripped them as they let their weapon fly and watched the long, deadly bolt lance directly into the enemy ranks.

My remarkable string of good dice rolls remains unbroken.  I roll a 5 and hit the enemy unit.  Rolling to wound, I roll a 5 again, which wounds the dwarf easily.  The bolt passes through to the second rank.  I need a 4 to wound the second Dwarf and I do, indeed, roll exactly that.  Passing through this Dwarf, the rapidly slowing bolt now rolls a 3 to wound, which is not enough to wound. 

The wounded Dwarves need to roll armor saves in succession. (if applicable). If the first Dwarf makes his save, the bolt is stopped and the second Dwarf does not need to roll.

 Magic Phase:  Ol' Hamm decides to forego fireballs in the interests of speed.  (He wants to be able to move in the reserve phase)  so no magic this turn.

Lord Thorirr grinned as he watched his companies swing  into line line like a well oiled machine and continue their advance.  Then glancing back toward the enemy, he saw something happening which he had not expected....  

The enemy spearmen had moved forward in a long line, screening The Unifier's company as it turned and began a rapid flank march behind them.  Thorirr cursed and spat savagely on the rocks.  Asgard was avoiding him!  Coward!!!!  A battle of attrition was not what Thorirr wanted.  He wanted a direct fight with Asgard!  Things were not going the way he had intended...the army continued it's advance...The Red Dragons on the left stuggling to keep up now...

 Reserve Move Phase:

The whole army (except the bolt thrower), moves forward a full 3 inches...the Skull Poppers and King's Axes are on line with each other.  The Red Dragons, who had the farthest to turn, are now 3 inches behind everybody else...

Just a thought:  Although I do like using real-world dice, I wouldn't be against using the dice rolling link that Thantsants gave us.  Not because I'm worried about any of the other Oldhammerers cheating, but because I wouldn't want anybody to think that I'm fudging this remarkably good series of rolls that I've been getting...hopefully my good luck will abandon me soon...

Round Three

Watch P.W. take his third turn here!

The Dwarves of Thunder Mount ground their teeth as another cloud of arrows rose into the air and fell toward their lines...This time it was The King's Axes who were the target.  With no shields to protect them, they were soon falling out of ranks, some wounded, some dying..."Don't stop lads!"  Shouted Captain Floi Haybeard, We've got to grab 'em by the belt!  Shake a leg!"  The Dwarves surged forward, desperate to get out of the killing zone and into close quarters with their enemies...

P.W.'s turn and movement phase:

As P.W.'s army advances, his archers fire on my King's Axes...these are the only troops in my army who didn't have shields, and so they get no armor save...three gallant Dwarf Guardsmen down.

 Lord Thorirr snarled in frustration as he watched Lord Asgard's column flank march into a new position directly in front of Floi Haybeard's axe-dwarves.  He felt himself pinned on the horns of an unpleasant dilemma: should he leave Hamm and the Skull Poppers to hold the army's flank on their own, or leave Floi to battle it out with Lord Asgard alone?  He had to make a decision...  Abruptly vomiting a stream of curses, he turned and grabbed old Hamm Hanson by the shoulder.  "Hamm!  Hold the flank.  Hold them off as long as you can!  I'm going to help Floi!"
"Hrrmm??  Me??" stammered the old Wizard...
But Lord Thorrir was already gone, his short, tree-trunk legs propelling him at a surprizing pace toward the King's Axes...

All three Dwarf regiments advance 3 inches straight forward toward the enemy.  Lord Thorrir leaves the Skull Poppers and runs 3 inches toward The King's axes...


Shooting Phase:

Back at the Bolt Thrower, the crew watched a Dwarf go down under their fire and hauled another bolt back into place, grinning as they did so.  As they worked, they heard a faint voice waft over the no-mans land between the two armies...a gallant, last call of defiance....
"What did he say?"  asked a crewman...
"Something about the Dwarves stand united, I think..."  said his mate.
"But...THEY attacked US!"  said the first crewman...
"Hey, pay atttention!  snapped Snorri Hawkeye...I...no, don't shoot yet!  Garn!"
The great bolt hurtled prematurely from the giant crossbow and stuck, shivering, in the ground at the feet of the first rank of Lord Asgard's Dwarves.
Relieved, Lord Asgard's warriors could hear Snorri Hawkeye loudly berating his crew on the other side of the field...



 I fire my bolt thrower at the same unit I hit last time.  Jenni Troll Slayer has done me good service so far in this game, but this time I roll a 3.  Close, but I need a 4 or better to hit.  Miss. 


Magic Phase:

Old Hamm Hanson, Distracted, perhaps by the sudden disappearance of Lord Thorrir, casts a fireball at the 10-strong unit of Dwarves, but the Elemental powers are not with him this time.  Although he easily passes his spell casting check, he only manages to conjure up up 1 fireball, which rolls a three to wound.  Not enough.  A couple of Lord Asgard's Dwarves get their beards slightly singed, but that's all.

Reserve Phase:
On the left flank, the Red Dragons move forward their full 3 inches.
In the center, The King's Axes move forward two inches, slowing their pace a little to allow Lord Thorrir to take his place in the front right corner of their formation.  The Skull Poppers hold fast.
Snorri Hawkeye punches one of his crewmen in the head for missing, but other wise the bolt thrower does nothing.

My positions at the end of my turn:

The front LEFT figure in the Red Dragons is 11" from my left side of the table, and 24" from my rear table edge.

 The front Right figure in the King's Axes is now Lord Thorrir, and he is 21" from my rear table edge

The front right figure in the Skull Poppers is still Hamm Hanson, and he is 16 1/2" from my rear table edge

The Emporer's Lash: Inquisitor Phang's Arco-Flagellants

 Although I always loved Rick Priestly's vision of the 40k universe, and often read the 40k rulebooks and sourcebooks just for entertainment, I was never really inspired by the 2nd and 3rd edition figures and game.  They just didn't work for me.  Post Rogue Trader, I tuned out 40k for quite a few years but somewhere around 2007/2008 I began to notice things going on in White Dwarf that piqued my interest, most notably, the Witch Hunters armies that began to appear here and there throughout the magazine.

 The delightfully creepy recipe for the Witch Hunters army included such delectable ingredients as psychotic violence, Religious fanaticism and kinky sex, simmered together slowly over a low flame of raw angst.  Perfect.  Better yet, I could see that there was a lot of potential in this army for reaching out to old 80's Citadel minis and even other manufacturers, a flexibility I appreciated.  Still, I never did anything about it other than daydream.  Until Iraq.

Whilst in Iraq I rediscovered 40k, now in it's fourth edition, with its splendid new artwork and a bounty of interesting new models.  Best of all, I found that, during this time, GW offered a vast line of BITS!  TONS of them, and that you could order almost any component Citadel had ever manufactured to customize your army.  Breaking point.  I started building a Witch Hunters army in the shadowy corner of the Squad tent which, troll-like,  I inhabited at that time.

I had a lot of fun putting this squad together...

I can't help but love the concept of the Arco-Flagellants...mindless, Tasmanian Devil-like Cyborgs, spinning dementedly around the table-top like Goblin fanatics...

 Hobbled this one together out of a Warhammer Fantasy Ghoul, some Dark Eldar bike chains and spikes carved off a resin sprue...

 Gladiator weapons bits added some spice to some of the original figures...they were nice, but I wanted to put them over the top and into crazy territory...

Wonderful animation to some of these sculpts...Also like the turbine-like machinery added to some of their heads and backs...

Still have some work to do on most of the other Witch Hunter squads I started for this army...I still look forward to a campaign in which Inquisitor Phang's Probe-in-Force take on a horde of mutants kit-bashed out of plastic Wahammer fantasy Zombies and Ghouls, led by the adepts of a vile Nurgle cult...stay tuned, dear friends...

The Plain of Crows Part 2: The Armies

Well, I'm back and just recently recovered from a long and blistering work week. Here's the army that will be taking on King Asgard's Expeditionary force on the Plain of Crows very soon.  Despite the fact that the models I'll be using to represent Asgard's guys won't be painted,  I am only allowing myself to use painted models for my own army.  I want to keep myself motivated to keep painting and don't want to start letting myself think it's okay to use unpainted models in my battle reports.



Lord Thorrir's Welcoming Committee:

King’s Axes - 19 warriors – 2 handed weapons and light armor with standard   240

 Floi Haybeard – Level 15 hero – heavy armor and 2 handed sword                 133

Total for Regiment: 373

Red Dragons – 19 warriors with standard, light armor, shields and spears 240

Borrin Basherson– Lvl 10 hero hand weapon, heavy armor, shield, pistol    Also no 95

Total for Regiment:  335

Skull Poppers – 19 warriors with standard, light armor and shield, 2 handed weapon 240

Lord Thorrir Maull (army general) – lvl 25 hero with heavy mithril armor and Enchanted Strike Hammer, Dragon shield 276

Total for Regiment:  516

Jenni Troll Spitter – 3 man bolt thrower, heavy armor for crew   63

Ol' Hamm – Wizard – lvl 10 Wizard with pistol 120

 Spells:  Dispirit, Fireball, Wind Blast

Total points for army:  1407

The switch from 1500 to 1400 points made some cruel decisions necessary.  Floi Haybeard had to give up his Frost Sword and the elite troops had to endure a downgrade to regular warriors.  Also I don't have an army standard, which I normally consider indispensable.
I'm worried about some other things missing from my army, too.  For my 2,000 point army, I intend to paint up some Giant Slayers and some crossbowmen and I have devilish plans for a pretty sweet battery of stone throwers.  If I had a wider selection of painted troops, my army might look quite a bit different, but it it is what it is.  Lord Maull's army might not be the army he wants, but it's the only army he's got...


Lord Asgard's Unifiers:

1 Level 25 Hero with a great weapon
1 Level 10 Wizard
1 Level 10 Hero with an extra hand weapon and no armour (he has tactile sensitivities)

12 Crossbow

6 Crossbow in skirmish formation

13 Warriors with shields and spears, Musician, Standard led by:

1 Level 5 Character with heavy armour, hand weapon and shield

12 Warriors with hand weapons and shields, Musician

14 Warriors, hand weapons and shields, Musician and Standard

12 Warriors, hand weapons and shields, Musician and Standard

Really wish I could have done Lord Asgard's gallant crusaders better justice by representing them with figures that had...you know...paint and stuff, but I'm just not there yet.  This is what I've got.

So.  The stage is set. 

The Plain of Crows Pt. 1: Background

Lord Thorirr Maull scowled darkly and shook his head, his long beard wagging in the gloom.  "Now that's a sorry damned report to have to send to the King." he growled.  "Tomorrow I must lead his warriors into battle with Dwarves!"  

 The rumor of the approach of a well armed band of Dwarves down the old north road days before had stirred great interest in the halls of Thunder Mount.  Three days previous, the King had dispatched Lord Thorirr, Chieftain of the Upper Hall, to meet them on the road and see what they wanted.  The assumption had been  that the newcomers might be refugees from the Goblin wars still raging in the North, or perhaps a reconnaissance from some new hold recently established somewhere north of the Thunder Mountain range.  Perhaps they needed assistance or guidance.  Surely they should be welcomed and aided.  But when Thorirr's heralds arrived in the strangers' camp and were ushered into the presence of their commander  they heard not words of greeting and friendship, but rather, what seemed, to them at least, to be the ravings of a madman.   "Tell me, once more, what he said, this...Uniter?"  muttered Thorirr wearily...
 

"He claims he wants an alliance,  replied the herald,  but the words "surrender and submission to his person" were used.  Our King is to bow to him, it seems, and all our halls to pay him tribute, which he claims he needs to continue the war against the Greenskins in the North."

"How he got through Big Blackie's Orcs and Gobbos is a tale I'd like to hear." said Thorirr, rubbing his bristly chin.

"Fought their way through, by the looks of them."  said Hamm.  The old Wizard had accompanied the herald.  "Their gear had seen recent use.  I suspect they hid their wounded from us, but some of them still looked none too spry."

"Well, that's something, anyway."  grunted Thorirr, wryly.  "Got themselves cut down to size, coming here, and no doubt took care of a few of Big Blackie's boys along the way!"

"But it's madness!"  spat Floi Haybeard, shifting his great sword, Icicle, onto his armored knees as he sat down heavily on his camp chair.  "This fool could have alliance with us, if he but asked for it, to the benefit of us all!"

"He'll not accept such terms."  Hamm said quickly.  "To him alliance means unification under his authority."

  "Not acceptable.  said Borrin, Captain of the Red Dragons.  Our forefathers came here to escape the chaos of the northern wars.  They wouldn't want to see us dragged back into them, especially not on the whim of a madman."


Thorirr had not come expecting a fight.  He had brought his 1st Company with him as an escort, and the King had sent his guard of Axemen to fly his banner.  At the last moment Borrin had volunteered to come with his company, just in case, and he had brought with him a bolt thrower, carried on the backs of a pair of sturdy mules.  But altogether the force was more of an honor guard than an army.  Thorirr had no crossbowmen, no skirmishers, no flank guards...

"We could withdraw to the Maiden's Peak, said Hamm, as if he had read Thorirr's mind, (and who knows?  Maybe he had.)...and hold them at the narrow way."

"Or retire to Thunder Mountain."  said Floi stroking his thick blonde beard.  "They do not have nearly enough warriors to face the full King's Muster.  They may change their minds about us when they see our full strength."

"No, said Thorirr, his voice low but carrying the stony edge of absolute certainty.  The battle in that case may be simply delayed.  He could always come back with more warriors.  When we report to the King, Let's report that we've solved a problem for him, not that we have brought him a problem that he needs to solve.  We'll teach this madman some respect tomorrow, I think.  We'll see how he feels after a few knocks on the head."

He turned to the herald.  "Go back and tell this "Uniter,"  as he calls himself, that we'll meet him tomorrow on the Plain of Crows.  Tell him we will offer him quarter if he accepts it."

The herald nodded, made a quick bow, and ducked out of the firelight.

"Make ready to march."  said Thorirr.  The gloom he had felt was passing with his uncertainty, and he began to feel the light of battle lust dawning, warm and rosy, in his breast and all through his limbs.

"Let's set a good table for the Crows tomorrow."

***

A week or so ago, Private Weird pitched me the idea of trying a game of WFB 3rd Edition played over the net...My Old School Dwarves against his.  Naturally I jumped at the chance.  An interesting experiment that may pave  the way for great things in future.  The armies will be 1400 pts, assembled from the list in Warhammer Armies.

In the interests of Simplicity, I'm proposing a very basic board 4' x 4'  The top left and bottom right corners could be wooded to a depth of about 2 feet and a width of 1 foot.   Sort of boring, but I figure that since we can't see the board the other guy is using, less might well turn out to be more in this case.  Still more than happy to add more terrain if P.W. likes.  I'll be using some of my unpainted Dwarves and halflings to represent P.W.'s army on my table.

(sorry for the crummy lighting and composition here, but I was in a hurry.  The actual photos of the game in progress will look much nicer.  But this gives you the idea of what the Plain of Crows will look like.


To be continued...

1st Company of the Muster of The Upper Hall 'Skull Poppers'

The Upper Hall lies nearest to the top of Thunder mountain, and the Dwarves who choose to live in these high halls are those most fond of the air and light of the above ground world.  There are many of windows and balconies cut high in the sheer stone cliffs which rise to the great heights of the summit of Thunder mountain, and look eastward, back over the purple hills of the border Princes toward the Old world and the rising sun..  Standing still and cold at the foot of these cliffs are deep clear lakes fed by the aquifers that underlie the roots of the mountains and by the spring snow melt.  In the summers, many of the Dwarves of the Upper Hall dwell in cabins above ground and graze their herds of goats and sheep on the grassy slopes of the mountains. In the winter, they retreat into the fire-lit shelter of their high, stone eyries.

 The Lord of the Upper Hall at this time is Thorirr Maull, a Dwarf renowned for his toughness, aggressiveness and no-nonsense manner. (And his flamboyant battle dress). The Dwarves of the upper hall are not as numerous as the Dwarves of the Great Hall, nor are they as wealthy, or as generally well equipped, but they field a number of famous battle-companies well known both to the friendly men of the Black River country, and to the Dwarves' dire enemies, the Orcs and Goblins of Big Blackie's Greenskin Horde.

  One of the best known are the 1st Company, the "Skull Poppers", named for the very distinctive sound a Goblin's head makes when giving way under a blow from one of their terrible Battle-hammers.

Despite his rather dramatic and intimidating appearance on the battlefield, Lord Thorirr Maull is actually an unassuming and Down-to-Earth Chieftain, and does not retain a bodyguard.  When he goes to battle, he usually personally leads the Clansmen of the First Company, lending his considerable animal magnetism and the terrifying power of his magical Thunder Hammer to the fight.

 Lord Thorirr Maull is depicted here in his full and fearsome battle kit, wearing his Mithril plate armor and carrying his terrible Thunder Hammer and Dragon Shield.  When going to battle, Thorirr often wears the pelt of a Beastman chieftain late of the horde of Buzzgobb Phesterlick. Thorirr is famously known to have dispatched this foul mutant in the Battle of Scorpion Point and to have worn the tattered remnant of the beast as a head warmer eve since.  A (mostly) friendly rivalry exists between Lord Thorirr and The King's General, Sveinn Donnerkind, whom Lord Thorirr sometimes playfully accuses of affecting his personal style.

                  "RAAAARRRGHHHHH!!!!  POP THEIR SKULLS!!  POP EM!  POP EM!!!!!!!"

"Cummere, Gobbo!  I got somethin' for ye..."

The Mad Monks of Saint Passionario's

 Some centuries ago, so the Mad Monks of Saint Passionario say, a strange young man came to the Warhammer world.  He had come from far away, having journeyed thousands of miles through mountain and marsh, over plain and sea.  He was a seemingly wise young man, quite kind and gentle and more than a little sad.  When he spoke to people in the strange new land he had come to, the land of the Warhammer, he came invariably around to one thing:  Was it really necessary, all this war business?  Wouldn't it be something if people just started being nice to each other for a change?  The young man had no name, but as he crossed the land, preaching his curious doctrine of kindness and nonviolence, he began to attract attention, and became known amoung the common folk as 'El Passionario'.  Many people flocked to hear him speak, and a following began to grow up around him in northern Estalia and southern Bretonnia.

 Alas, amoung the people who came to listen to him one day was a certain Lord Framaggio, the Duc of Daxx, and his crew of less than reputable knights and retainers.  The Duc thought El Passionario was delightfully entertaining.  He thought El Passionario's ideas about compassion and brotherly love were so inspiringly hilarious, that he had him nailed to a tree and left for dead, which, sadly, he was.  Thus passed the 'Very Strange Enchanted Boy," of legend,  El Passionario.  Yet, his story does not end there.  One of El Passionario's most devoted disciples, Stefano de Aragones, recovered El Passionario's body and arranged to have it transported to an island off the wild coast of Tilea, where, he hoped, a small cult might be able to revere the memory of their gentle Saint in relative peace and quiet.  Stefano de Aragones' ship was captured by Araby pirates a few miles from her destination and Stefano was tortured to death by the Arabyans for the crime of trying to infect them with his heretical views.  But the ship bearing El Passionario's remains slipped by the pirates and a handful of devotees managed to establish a reliquary and monastery in the name of their beloved Saint on the tiny island.

Sadly, and, we should think, perhaps predictably, the monastery was no sooner completed than the little island was invaded and swept from end to end by the fire and steel of the armies of the incalculably awful chaos warlord Gundagorr Hogswaggle, Champion of Nurgle.  A handful of priests managed to escape the flaming ruins of the monastery and cast themselves adrift on the ocean with a tiny bejewelled box containing a few bits of their beloved Saint.  The monks cast up in northwestern Tilea, where they were quickly swept up in the events of the 17th war of the Borgian Succession, an experience apparently so horrible that the histories of the order neglect to describe it in any detail.

One thing about that period of the order's history is certain.  By the time the war was over, the doctrine of the order of El Passionario had undergone certain fundamental changes.  Much of the change was undoubtedly due to the influence of the young Tilean Noccoli Macchio, who joined the order about this time.  Macchio beleived that the order was in great need of reform.  Macchio taught that although the doctrine of brotherly love that El Passionario had taught was wonderfully nice and sweet and good, it was, as a survival strategy, completely unsuited to the sanguine realities of the Warhammer world.  Something was going to have to change.

There had already been at least one attempt at fundamental change.  It has now been learned through other sources that the monk Raspardan, a shadowy figure apparently of Kislevite origin, had risen to high rank in the order during this period, and had preached that the violent of the world would never listen to reason, would never come to peace of their own accord, and that they must, therefore, be beaten into submission by the disciples of the Son of Peace, El Passionario.  All of them.  Every last mother's son of them.  Raspardan utterly rejected the theory that the order should shelter in quiet corners of the world hoping to be left alone.  Rather, he preached a doctrine of war upon the violent and warlike.
It is said that Raspardan's radical theories were not well received by many members of the order, and that, in order to preserve El Passionario's legacy of peace and brotherly love, numerous attempts were made on Raspardan's life.  Amazingly, Raspardan seems to have survived at least forty-six assassination attempts before finally succumbing to the blades of the violent in a nameless battle between Tilean and Imperial forces fought during this time.  Raspardan led the Order of El Passionario down upon the battle attacking the heretically violent and warlike on both sides, without favoritism, and was naturally set upon by both Tileans and the sons of Sigmar, and cut into small pieces. 

Enter Niccolo Macchio.  Macchio's teachings utterly transformed the order of El Passionario by introducing an element of realpolitik, heretofore unknown amoung this highly idealistic sect.  Macchio taught that the warlike forces of law in the world were, in fact the agents of peace, peace being a goal which could only be gained through the aquisition and the application of strength.  Rather than attack all the violent indiscriminately, as Raspardan had done, Macchio taught that the order should henceforth align itself with those violent and warlike agencies which were lawful and constant enough to establish and maintain law and order, and attack instead those who attempted to resist them.  Only by doing so could El Passionario's disciples hope to help achieve their Patron Saint's vision of a peaceful world.  Thereafter, the order entered a new phase.  Day and night, the brothers trained for war, busying themselves in learning the ways of weapons and clever stratagems for overcoming the enemies of their chosen allies and agents.  The ringing of hammers at the forges of war began to rise and mingle with the choruses of the priests intoning the hymns of peace.  Thenceforce the sons of El Passionario rushed into battle, bellowing their war cries of "Kill for Peace!" 
 and  "Death to the Warlike!" etc.

In the fourth year of the settlement of the Black River Country, a band of monks of the order of El Passionario crossed the border princes and came into the Black River country, asking the Baron von Refn for permission to establish a monastery there.  Though skeptical at first, the Baron eventually gave them leave to settle in his realm.  In the succeeding years, the Baron has become convinced of two things about the Monks of Saint Passionairo, as their monastery is called;

One:  They are all clearly insane and are bad company at parties. 

Two: They are incredibly loyal and energetic supporters of his attempt to found a colony in the Black River country.  Their work with the poor and suffering folk in the Baron's realm has been of considerable assistance, as are the small but welcome contingents of fanatical fighters which the Monks often send to fight alongside the Baron's armies.