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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
For those who have an interest, my army is somewhat unique, but not the only one of its kind.

The Bloodbulls of Khaarg are a Beasts of Chaos Doombull army built from mostly Ogre Kingdoms models and heavily influenced by Khornate Daemons. I have a basic idea of what the background for the army is, and I'd like to expand upon it. Below are my thoughts, kind of outlining the general direction I plan to go with the story. Any comments or suggestions would really be appreciated.

An isolated tribe, located in (TBD) has existed throughout the years simply because of its fierce belief that it should. No one could stand before those great leviathans, not the beasts of the mountains, the swarthy creatures from the plains, and no, not even those they would once have called 'brothers'. The Tribe of Khaarg was a force beyond nature, and subservient to no other creature on this earth. In fact, there would soon become a time, when the Tribe of Khaarg believed itself to be independent of the Gods as well...

-=- The Rivalry of Daemons -=-

Imagine two Khornate Daemons, both exalted in their nature, and both fiercely competitive. A deal would be struck, allowing for one to show the other the true perfection in its own nature, and the flaw in the others. And of course, there would be a glitch...

-=- A Semblance of Life -=-

How does one know that one is alive, and how would one prove to one's enemies that they soon shall not be. As an unrivaled Tyrant over the Tribe, a reasonably young Khaarg is determined to prove that he and he alone controls all that he surveys. Not only should his enemies heed his message, but so too should his own tribe, and those who would subvert his authority. Nothing and no one should command the tribe, and all the Kingdoms for that matter, but Khaarg, and the young Tyrant would soon see it to be his destiny to make the world believe it as well.

-=- A Dismissal and A Welcome -=-

Sometimes, one believes that to err is simply mortal, and to forgive is divine. This person, obviously, does not worship the Great Maw. Having no use for the weak, either in body or in mind, the Maw would call retribution upon those that have failed to render proper service. What then would such a God do if, suppose, one of its minions turned its blind eye toward hatred and vanity? And, what would the Great Maw wonder about the cause of such stupidity? Would the Great Maw even notice?

Of somewhat more pressing concern for the oblivious inhabitants of the nearby lands, what would fill the void left by the casting out of one God? Had they but known it, would the City-States and other sovereign nations nearby even care? Would they even understand the danger an unrelenting God might be, even one not of their own pantheon? What about the greed and avarice of another God, still one they did not worship, but was feared by these lesser beings all the same. Such an event might just be an opening, a cataclysmic fault, that could be exploited by the Gods of any pantheon. Who would take the initiative?
 

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I likes. seriously a great rough outline. What if you had something like tzeench making a deal or a bet or something with Khorne and then cheating? i've always imagined that happening...
 

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
Thanks... It would be a good storyline, but this is supposed to be the story of my Khornate Beasts army. Sadly, when I painted up the army I decided to give pure Khorne a shot. After I get this written up I may give a go at expanding the story a bit, especially if I begin a Daemonic Legion army when the new book is released.
 

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Discussion Starter · #5 ·
LOL... in the spring or early summer of this year, a new book listing the daemonic army for both 40K and WHFB is to be released by GW. This book replaces the Daemonic entries in all other books for both systems, so I'm told, but will be a stand alone army. Beasts and Mortals may not use units from this book. At least, that's what I hear.
 

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awesome! thnx for informing me. i asked a guy at GW when the next book was coming out but he didnt mention that! oh by the way when can i expect more of your story and where?
 

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It'll be posted in this thread, though I cannot say 'when' for sure... I'll not get involved in it again until I feel sufficiently motivated to do so. Keeps the story sincere.
 

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Discussion Starter · #9 ·
Across a virgin land, considered to be unacceptably pristine and pure by the two tainted beings gazing upon its horizons, multitudes of peaceful creatures lived in harmony.

‘Not to worry’, said the first, after mentally wandering the scenic landscape. ‘I shall bring this weak land into our Lord’s domain.’

‘You consider me to be weak as well, brother?’ questioned the second, with mocked pain at the perceived insult. ‘It is I, Burroghim the Exalted, who watch over this land for the ripest of moments, the most profitable of opportunities, and it is I who have discovered how to most please our Lord. The land will not fall from within, as is your want, but from without… from a source of fear and misery that this naïve land cannot hope to repel.’

‘Brother, in all things, I know that we both serve our Lord Khorne, but it is I, Khaarg the Immaculate, who knows best our Lord’s wishes. To serve such an ignoble people their fate upon a platter of their own making serves as the blood crust on the lung pie of the feasting table. Is it not the work of a lesser Daemon to have one race simply crush another?’

‘Ah, my dear brother, this is where we shall both merge our talents! In order to subvert the one, and gain thousands upon thousands of skulls for our Lord, we will instead impassion another to our cause and bring not one people, but two into our Lord’s feasting hall! Brother, in order to fill our Lord’s banquet, we must look over all horizons, not just this one, for beyond lies the pivotal soul, a soul I, Burroghim the Exalted, have nurtured and mentored for just this occasion.’

‘I feel frenzied with anticipation, brother! What have you devised?’

‘Khaarg, my Immaculate brother, when have you last felt the warmth of mortal form?’
 

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To serve such an ignoble people their fate upon a platter of their own making serves as the blood crust on the lung pie of the feasting table. ’

LOL. Excellent! I love the humor and the way youre trying to have some fun with this instead of trying to be the next Dan Abnett. well i've got to go but ill be waiting in the shadows to feed on the next post. See you on the other side of the Warp!
 

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Discussion Starter · #11 ·
OK... a revision of sorts....

The Bloodbulls of Khaarg, or, Do I Look Fat In Red?​

Across a virgin land, considered to be unacceptably pristine and pure by the two tainted beings gazing upon its horizons, a multitude of peaceful creatures lived in harmony. The simple presence of these creatures spelled the end of all harmony and happiness below. No two creatures could possibly be more out of place. Both were very large, each nearly the size of 5 large me, and each seeming to become more grotesque with every passing minute. Taught shiny skin the color of fresh blood gave way only to the blackness of curved horns, sharp fangs and talons, and even the black bottomless depths of their eyes, which had no whites.

‘Not to worry’, said the first, after mentally wandering the scenic landscape. ‘I shall bring this weak land into our Lord’s domain.’ The single talon outstretched to caress the crease between the wing and neck of the other slowly drew blood, forcing a sigh of pleasure.

‘You consider me to be weak and foolish as well, brother?’ questioned the second, with mocked pain at the perceived insult, even as the sigh escaped his thin lips. ‘It is I, Khaarg the Immaculate, who watch over this land for the ripest of moments, the most profitable of opportunities, and it is I who have discovered how to most please our Lord. The land will not fall from within, as is your want, but from without… from a source of fear and misery that this naïve land cannot hope to repel.’

‘Brother, in all things, I know that we both serve our Lord Khorne, but I say it is I, Burrohim the Exalted who knows best our Lord’s wishes. To serve such an ignoble people their fate upon a platter of their own making serves as the blood crust on the lung pie of the feasting table. Is it not the work of a lesser Daemon to have one race simply crush another?’ The talon continued to draw a thin line of blood between the shoulders of the beast known as Khaarg, tracing a line between the wings.

‘Ah, my dear brother, this is where we shall both merge our talents! In order to subvert the one, and gain thousands upon thousands of skulls for our Lord, we will instead impassion another to our cause and bring not one people, but two into our Lord’s feasting hall! Brother, in order to fill our Lord’s banquet, we must look over all horizons, not just this one, for beyond lies the pivotal soul, a soul I, Burroghim the Exalted, have nurtured and mentored for just this occasion.’

‘I feel frenzied with anticipation, brother! What have you devised?’

‘Khaarg, my Immaculate brother, when have you last felt the warmth of mortal form?’

____________________


“I’ll CRUSH HIM!” was all that was heard before a behemoth of flesh and furs crashed through the undergrowth near the shores of the Lake of Eyes deep within the Mountains of Mourn. The sound scattered birds and small creatures everywhere in their haste to flee for safety. Larger animals, even mighty saber-toothed cats, were wise enough to get out of this harm’s way. The sound was unmistakable, and infinitely humorous to the being known as Khaarg. When the trees parted, and part they did for the young tyrant of the Ice-Tooth tribe, Khaarg failed to keep his mirth in check, letting just a little peep escape.

‘How could such a massive creature move so swiftly?’ was the first thought in his mind. The second was ‘How can one creature be so hideous?’ Pale blue skin covered the thundering beast, with even paler ritual scars marking its massive body, even to the large bulb of its nose and the folds of its multiple chins. And the smell! This young Tyrant was even larger than the mighty Khaarg himself! Well, maybe Burroghim was mistaken. This simply couldn’t be correct. Just a short moment later, though, after having lost sight of the rampaging ogre, Khaarg the Immaculate was thinking differently. Was this what his brother had witnessed?

Out of the same broken copse of trees the thundering blubber had just crashed through came the young ogre once again. This time, though, he was not alone. With great effort, the bloodied hands of this mountainous beast grasped the horns on the forehead of an even larger beast. Both snorted and grunted with their exertions, and even the fight for life could not give the maturing rhinox the edge necessary to escape the clutches of his attacker. With a last surge of inhuman strength, the rhinox neck was twisted severely until a grinding break could be heard and the beast lay still. Even Khaarg was impressed.

“Khaarg feast tonight!” exclaimed the Ogre. “Not just gnoblar, no. Rhinox, too!” Finally giving in to his exhaustion, the young tyrant collapsed over his prey for a brief respite.

Khaarg feast tonight? No, that couldn’t be what he said. But that is what Khaarg the Immaculate, Daemon of Khorne, heard. Burroghim has been playing tricks on this one, and probably on me as well, but we’ll see who owns who in the end. It must be done now, while he’s weak from his exertions. Gathering up his great power, Khaarg the Immaculate spread his wings and rose into the air above the winded tyrant. With a chant on his lips and a curse on his soul, the daemon dove downward toward, and at the last moment into, the ogre's body.

After the struggle with the rhinox, the mortal Khaarg had very little physical strength with which to fend of the invading daemon, but that was not what was truly necessary to succeed. Khaarg the mortal ogre had courage and determination in spades, and the battle that ensued for his soul was tremendous. When the body of the Tyrant finally lay still after thrashing with the torments and struggles occurring within, the ground and vegetation nearby lay covered in a thick sticky wet film. The corpse of the rhinox had been thoroughly mutilated by battering it received at the unconscious ogre's hands. The young tyrant’s body was fully covered in blood as well, with not the least bit of his body left to show the pale blue of his clan. Neither corpse moved until early the next day.

Just after sunrise, the eyes of the young ogre opened. There were no whites. Both the Khaarg the young Tyrant, and, from a distance, his brother Burroghim smiled.

____________________


Mogor was just finishing stripping the hide from a worthless slave human when the bulls of the tribe became agitated. It had only taken one death, that of a younger bruiser, to convince the tribe that it could wait a little longer for their Tyrant to return. And apparently he had. The butcher was relieved to know that Khaarg had returned, for he had terrible portents to tell to the leader of the Ice-Tooths. The Great Maw was not blind to the dangers of the Mountains of Mourn, but rather rejoiced in them. These portents held no excitement in them however, but great warning, and Mogor was not about to go unheeded. Mogor met Khaarg at the Tyrant’s tents.

Khaarg plowed his way through the rough pelt flaps that covered his tent opening still carrying the mutilated carcass of the rhinox with him. He did not once glance or verbally recognize the Butcher waiting outside his tent. Let the fool come stubbornly to his doom, and all others who worship the great toothless maw! The carcass was dropped in the middle of the tent floor, directly before Khaarg’s seat. Then, he patiently waited for his subjects to appear. They will not like this one bit, but I will!

Mogor is not some young gutless bull to be ignored! No Tyrant is above the Great Maw or even his prophets! This can not be tolerated! Mogor called for his two apprentices as well as the Tyrant’s chief councilor, Mogor’s own father. Chogor had a mean disposition and a terrible temper, matched only by his ferocity with the huge five-foot cleaver he carried. He was the chief bruiser in the tribe, second only to Khaarg himself. Age had started to weaken Chogor, but still no other in the tribe had the courage to test their might against his. He was also considered to be blessed by the Great Maw, having fathered a prophet. As one, the 4 ogres marched into the Tyrant’s abode.

What they saw did not please them in the least! Khaarg was bloodied from head to toe and had made no attempt be made clean. His face was disfigured, but not by ritual scars as was custom, but by small hornlike protuberances just over his temples. His gut plate exuded a warmth that usually came only from the primitive forges of the clan or from the great Fire Mouth. His tent was in shambles and the carcass of a beast lay rotting before him, drying blood smeared throughout the tent. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom of the tent, Khaarg rose from his seat and approached them. None could easily meet his eyes.

“Chogor, who are these fools who would dare trespass into the domain of Khaarg the Immaculate? Do they not know their doom when their eyes fall upon it?” Upon seeing the confused expressions on the faces of all four ogres before him, Khaarg realized he spoke in the tongue of Daemons. He held out his hand to Chogor. “Give. Me. Sword.” he said in the base tongue of the ogres, and, somewhat reluctantly Chogor did just that.

“You must heed the Great Maw! Dire portents I have seen! The Great Maw warns us!” exclaimed Mogor as his anxiety rose higher and higher. Mogor had never known such fear, and Khaarg knew this.

Mogor never got the opportunity to say just what he had seen in his visions. It only took Khaarg a single swipe to decapitate Mogor, and the backswing neatly hamstrung both fleeing apprentices before they had more than turned to escape. Both were executed as their master had been. Chogor was shocked. “The Great Maw will punish us…”

“No, my friend. The Great Maw is weak. How else could three of his servants have died so easily? I am not weak. I am more than the Great Toothless Maw. I am Khaarg the Immaculate, and all here will serve me or die. Do you wish to join your son?”

By the time the unholy transformation of ‘Khaarg the Mortal Ogre’ to ‘Khaarg the Immaculate, Tyrant of the Ice-Tooths’ neared its completion, all off Clan Ice-Tooth had knelt in ogre fashion to their young Tyrant, and their new God. They had no choice if they were to live, and most were too dumbstruck with fear to even consider any other alternative. They recognized their Tyrant, even though the blood red of his flesh could not be washed off. He was worshipped in the place left vacant by the death of the servants of the Great Maw, for all in the tribe now knew of his power. Their infamy would quickly spread and all would fear Khaarg the Immaculate, the Great Bloodbull and the Bloodbull Tribe!
 

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:biggrin: Great story, Hesp. I like the fable-like qualities in it. Very mythic.
 
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