Jens og Malthe

Backstory: Gunnar

Gunnar har igennem en kompliceret (og formentlig forfalsket) slægtslinje et obskurt krav på tronen, hvis kejser Karl Franz og en god håndfuld andre adelige skulle dø. Det betyder, at Gunnar bruger al sin tid på at drømme om det (ok, i en verden fuld af monstre og overnaturlige onde guder er det heller ikke så urealistisk), og ikke mindst lægge skumle planer og rænkespil, som dog altid går galt for ham, fordi slægtningene er kloge nok til altid at have påskud for ikke at kunne tage imod hans forskellige invitationer til en kop thé eller en vildsvine-jagttur osv. Kejser Karl Franz prøver også altid at få Gunnar slået ihjel ved at give ham militære missioner der er alt for svære, og hvor den hær, han får kommandoen over, altid er for lille til realistisk set at kunne vinde. Nu er den så gal igen! Kejser Karl Franz har lige bedt Gunnar om at invadere og pacificere Tornbjerg, men har kun givet ham en meget lille hær, fordi “der er vist nogle venligtsindede allierede derovre du nok kan få hjælp af, hvis du spørger pænt, og siger du skulle hilse fra mig”.

Backstory Burre Sortenskjold Hornleif

Sortenskjold var ikke en tålmodighed mand. Som grand-grandfætter på sin mors side til selveste Hisme Stoutheart havde han mange sager på sit bord. De fleste af dem spiselige delikatesser, men også en god del opgaver i forbindelse med hans hverv som ansvarlig for næsten halvdelen af tobaksleverancerne til det centrale Imperie. De fleste af disse opgaver gik igen og igen og igen, bestående primært af udkommandering af mindre troppestyrker til bevogtning af transportvogne med Bredblad og Sød Krøltop, og andre gode tobaksvarianter. Men, desværre endte hans uduelige søn også med ofte at skulle reddes på den ene eller anden måde af ham. Og det var netop Hornleif store sorg i livet. Hvis den unge snøbel dog bare kunne tage sig lidt sammen. Drak han lidt mindre ville han da klart have befalingsmandsevner. Og hvis han øvede bare en smule med bue og spyd. “Dit fulde apparat. Sæt dig op!” hvæsede Hornleif af den unge men svært overvægtige søn, der netop var mere sejlet  end marcheret ind på hans kontor og kolapset i den gode læderpolstrede stol foran hans skrivebord. “Der er kommet bud fra selveste Hisme! Hører du? Stop med at gnaske den skinke, og lyt!” Der er ballade i Tornbjerg. Der er set flere mindre grupper af luskede typer i egnene, og det går ikke! Det bringer forsyningerne af Krøllet Rødblad i fare. Og af uransagelige årsager er netop du blevet bedt om at assistere selveste Karl Franz gesandt Gunnar med at pacificere området. Det er formentlig blot nogle goblinbander og andre bøller. Ikke noget et par solide bølger af pile ikke kan drive på flugt.” Hornleif sukkede og kiggede alvorligt på Burre. Den rundmaved3 yndling trak vejret tungt, men var vist nok ikke faldet i søvn. “Jeg sender dig afsted med en mindre gruppe spejdere og en mindre deling af min personlige garde” De er da så barske, måske kan de få ham lidt på rette køl, tænkte han og fortsatte. “Det er en vigtig opgave, så jeg sender Theobald Blækærme med som rådgiver. Han har altid gjort det godt, og du vil gøre klogt i at lytte til hans råd! Han kan også lidt magi, hvis det skulle brænde på” Men bevægelser sløvet af betydelige mængder brombærvin sprang Hornleif Sortenskjolds søn Burre op fra stolen, så skinken landede på det røde tæppe, med et saftigt smat fra glaceringen. “Schjavel, sir!” udbrød han og gjorde honnør. Først med den ene, så med den anden hånd. Og så med den første igen, for at være sikker på han ikke havde glemt noget.

Jeppe og Frederik

During the great chaotic Storm, Bardsy went to his friends the Slanns and made the great alliance of elves and lizardmen… Will Their common love for gold and shining emeralds help them drive back the hordes? A bright light is shining on the Coast, with the glitter of thousands of jewels and many coloured scales, for the bane of Team Evil!

Nils og Thomas

Young Hermand grew up in a very small village on the outskirts of Dead Wood in the
Imperial state Ostermark, far from the heartland of the Empire. Here, Chaos reigned and
as food and relatives grew even more scarce, young Hermand sought his chance in the
cursed city, Mordheim.
And chance brought him eye to eye with his fate. Having joined by with some fool hearted
Talabeclanders, Hermans soon found himself in the thick of the fighting, marauding and
pillaging that is Mordheim. Soon Hermand had learned sneak up on his enemies and
murder them in their sleep – or better when they went to the toilet. See, the Talabeclanders
weren’t a chivalries nor brave bunch. They preferred getting their business done quick and
neat without getting their puffy sleeves dirty, not much to young Hermand’s liking and
something in him began to fester.
One dark night, when Hermand was keeping watch, he felt a titillating sensation in his
undergarments. The day has passed as many before as his war band had murdered an
octet of chaos followers in their sleep. The chaos brethren seemed to have fallen over in a
sort of overindulgence of carnage and bloodlust, covered in their and mostly their enemies
blood and laid passed out on the floor, ripe for plucking so to speak. And so they did,
Hermand’s and his compatriots, pluck their life away. Now, Hermand had been unfortunate
to get some chaos blood on his person, but seemingly only on his clothing. This – however – was not entirely the case. Hermand had tainted himself with chaotic blood and now felt a
desire, a hunger never felt before – a tainted love … for blood!

Hermand felt the lust of Khorne explode inside him, filling his veins with hatred and rage.
He felt a strong compulsion to maim and gorge on his fellow band of brothers, and soon,
well within a couple of seconds, he descended upon the hapless Talabeclanders with a
fervour and devotion previously unimagined, murdering nay slaughtering them to the man
and then feast on their broken bodies, drinking their blood of their hollowed-out eye
sockets.

Khorne had indeed gained a revenant follower! Hermand quickly rose to power and
gathered a loyal following and laid waste to the streets of Mordheim. Joined by his trusty
lieutenants, Roderick the Rude – bearer of the Icon of their Power and Ballistic Baldrick – a
mindless killer, Hermand took to the Northern Steppes, beyond the Kislev borders to grow
his army and reap glory for his patron God.

To honour his new champion, Khorne grants Hermand the name Hardonn the Harasser
and gifts him a price collar to prevent Hardonn to succumb to foul magic. Hardonn sets out
to harvest more skulls for the skull God and is somehow vexed in his otherwise to pure
and righteous path to ally a much wielder of magic, the dwarfing sorcerer Brom The Book
Reader, forging a strong alliance between Blood and … Iron.

Brom grew up in the large village of Nagenhof in the imperial state of Ostermark close to
the World-Edge Mountains. It was a village mixed with humans and dwarves living side by
side. Brom came from a simple dwarf clan who specialist in wagon building…..which never
really held his interest. He was a lover of knowledge since he could remember. He loved
books, and especially books on magic……an interest he knew to keep secret. At the very
young age of 40 he left home, knowing he was destine for more than cart making. He
spent the good part of a two decade reading as much as he could in the great libraries of
the empire. Secretly he taught himself simple spells and potions, and was surprised how
easy he took to magic. He even got his hands on the Teclis Textbook, a book he uses to
this day.

As time passed he was tired of the empire, tired of humans, tired of old dwarf traditions
that limited all magic to the making of runes. He wanted more……and he knew that his
desires lay in the east. Out of the empire, into the mountains and beyond. He
remembered he had an uncle on his mothers side, Uncle Crom. The family had never
talked much about him as he was known to deal in dishonourable business……but they
did have an address where to find him. It was a start for Brom, and was always curious
about his mothers side of the family.

Following the Peak Pass to the east of Slayer Keep, Brom made his out of the empire
and into the unknown. He had studied many maps and was quite good at navigation. He
also had knowledge of simple invisibility spells just incase he meet any thieves or bandits.
The journey took 7 days, and was surprising without danger. It took him another 2 days
to find his uncles home (more like a fort), hidden from the main pass. He knocked on the
gates, and a dwarf who look very similar to his older cousins opened, they both knew
instantly they were family. Brom was welcomed with open arms and introduced to his
Uncle Crom and distant family. They bounded over their mutual love of books, maps, and
openness to magic. He found out the dishonourable business was that his uncle traded
with the dark beards of the East, in fact his uncle was a dark beard, and came from a long
line of chaos dwarves. Brom finally understood why he was different and why he loved
magic so much, it was in his blood….he was a Chaos Dwarf (or at least half of one)
He spent the next 2 years with his uncle, learning goblin trapping, slave trading, and how
to survive in dangerous situations. He was also introduced to the relations form the east
who came to do business. He was surprised how caring they were too kin, and not as
dark hearted has he was told. Sure the slave trade was ugly, but why not sell the goblins
instead of just killing them. His distant relatives could also see he had a natural gift for
magic, which was held in high esteem in chaos dwarf culture. Brom was eventually asked
if he wanted to make the trek to his homeland…..to Zharr Naggrund, to start an
apprenticeship in magic.
He said Yes……..
……30 Years later an Brom finds himself leading his own army….allied to the
worshipers of Blood God. This is their story.

BROM THE BOOK READERS CHAOS DWARF ARMY
THE STORY ENDERS
A unit of loyal tower guards . They are not just warriors but thinkings, poets, artists. All
thankful to be in a unit of fellow creative brothers……and honoured to protect their leader.
They don’t just start stories………they are story enders!
BIG DULFS BADDIES
A unit of Hobgoblins who rally around an Ogre. Dulf was originally gifted to Brom as a
bodyguard, but really had no taste for fighting nor skill. Trying to find the best out of any
situation Brom looked towards his impressionable unit of hobgoblins. Telling them the
Ogre was good luck charm they quickly adopted him as their own. They even went so far
as renaming their unit after him. They don’t fight much better in battle but are way more
enthusiastic. Dulf’s self confidence has also been boosted by the attention, he finally
started swinging his axes at the enemy! Rumour are he injured a goblin in last months
skirmish!.
BOBO’S TERRITORY TAKERS
This unite of goblin archers is lead by Bobo. Strangely skilled for a goblin in singular
tactics. They’re one mission is to take territory and hold be it a building, or key position.
Bobo has had success before, can he do it again!

THE CHAPTER CHANGERS
This rebellious band of Black Orcs were seen as a lost cause. They refused to fight, slave,
or work the pits. Scheduled for mass execution, Broms asked the council if he could work
with them. Over time he listened to their needs, built trust, and gave them respect. He
even paid reparation for what they had been through as slaves. He turned them into his
most loyal unit. They fight for Brom, or Father Brom as they call him. Kindness can be
more powerful than the Lash.
THE COLOURFUL SNIPERS MILITIA
They are a unit of militia that have worked with Crom in the past. As Brom’s Uncle is
taking the season off to travel, they are now in employment of the Sorcerer. Know for
their colourful clothing and good aim, they are a solid unit. This is only help by how well
they have been treated by their new boss. Good pay, great food, and respect…….they
can’t complain. Brom has also been learning the art crossbow sniping, and they are
happy to share their knowledge.

THE RED TRAMPLERS
A unit of Bull Centaurs. New to the army, they are are loan from Brom’s good friend and
fellow Sorcerer Barluk Five Tower. They are young as Bull Centaurs go, and are in need
of some tactical training. They seem to charge before thinking. Brom has been giving
them lessons twice a week in the art o rear and flank charges. They are eager to try out
this new way of doing battle.
OLD UNRELIABLE III
A rocket launcher manned by brothers Varuk and Dalruk. They are own their third rocket
launcher as the other two before blew up…….praise Hashut without casualties. Brom has
lent them some books on gun powder/trigonometry that will hopefully improve their war

machine ability. He also lent them on book on perfume and smells. They may not be the
most talented but they are the best smelling rocket crew around.

Svend Erik skov har igennem de sidste mange år købt øl af Borin gedeskjold. På denne dag er svend og hans tro følge til det årlige øl gilde hos Borin hvor de smager på årets øl produkter. Da nogle af spejderne kommer tilbage og melder at de har set noget sært ude i horisonten. De kan ikke helt beskriver hvad det er de har set, men de mener bestemt ikke at det er noget godt der er på vej. Både svend-Erik og Borin springer op og råber, fat jeres våben. Kigger på hinanden og giver hånd. I dag kæmper vi sammen, i morgen drikker vi atter øl 

Kåre og Rasmus

Forhistorie:

Lord Kåremundi og hans følge var på ekspedition i den gamle verden. En morgen, da de vågnede, så de at nogle af deres æg var ødelagte og indmaden spist. Der var gnaverspor i området. De fulgte sporene ned i en mørk grotte, hvor de mødte en større Skavenhær. Efter et heltemodigt slag, blev resterne af Skavenhæren drevet på flugt langt under jorden. Men pludselig kom der gobliner flygtende den modsatte vej. For Lord Grombrindal og hans tro følgere, havde drevet en goblinhær på flugt, der havde angrebet dværgenes miner. I en blodig knibtangsmanøvre blev både skaven- og goblinhæren hugget ned til sidste usling. Og siden har Kåremundi og  Grombrindals hære fulgtes ad på et heltemodigt felttog, der har taget dem helt til Fyns land. Undervejs har de to generaler fundet ud af at de har flere ting til fælles. F.eks. deres forkærlighed for guld. Og deres enighed om at rigtige generaler ikke bruger deres ben i kamp, men i stedet bæres rundt.

Johannes og Jens