Humgrek watched as the three Mhornar frigates finally finished unloading supplies and lifted off in the dense mist of Ulgu. Their Aetheric Navigators claimed this was as close as they dared travel to the ruins of Barak Gorn as their fleet was not welcomed there by the Duardian bankers who now inhabited the place. “It is of no matter to us, we shall not be visiting our cousins,” the warden king thought to himself as he reached into a silk bag hanging from his waist pulling out the strange rough iron bulls head idol held within.

Immediately a headache hit Humgrek and sinister whispers invaded his mind. Slowly he turned, steeling his resolve, noting the direction he was facing when the whispers became ever so slightly stronger. “That way then,” he muttered returning the acursed item to its pouch, taking a few deep breaths to clear his mind and shake off the psychic intrusion. 

Recovered Humgrek unslung his Oathstone from his back and slammed it into the ground. The murk seemed to clear around him and all of his Duardian immediately dropped what they were doing and faced him almost at attention. Climbing upon the mystical rock and with his voice amplified by Grungi’s runelords he addressed assembled duardin, “Brothers and Sisters of the Forge, today we bring the might of Grungi and the God-King to realm of Ulgu, the Dawnbringer Crusades announce their presence with our oaths!”

A great cry arose from the guardian as horns were sounded and shields beaten. Humgrek waited a moment for effect before he continued, “Long have we Dispossessed been shamed by our failure to settle the grudges in our great book, but no more! Long ago, in a world lost to us, those of the reviled name Azgorh broke their oaths and struck down their kin. Now we hear rumor of their scions committing even greater offenses to the gods by providing weaponry to the hated greenskins! We have tracked down the beardless oathbreakers here to Ulgu and the mists and fogs of this place shall provide them with no haven or succor from our righteous vengeance!” 

The cry from the duardin this time was even louder and Humgrek knew it was time to call their allies. He raised up his axe, personally crafted by the Forgefather, and hammered the cap three times into his oathstone. He braced for the inevitable flash of lightning that would herald the arrival of the Stormcast Eternals to the scene. After a moment, the crowd still cheering his speech, he looked about confused as the fog seemed to close back in and no figures in golden armor appeared. Something had gone wrong, the God-King’s beacon should have worked, and he sensed that it’s magic had indeed activated.

The other duardin quickly quieted as they saw the king’s bewilderment and in the silence they all heard the subtle rattling of bone and metal approaching. Startled out of his confusion by the sound Humgrek shouted, “To arms! Form ranks! The Uzkul Rattlers are upon us!” With military precision the brave warriors of Tempest Eye formed up as ranks of Mortek shambled out of the fog…


Arlardon Sterncaller smelled the comforting ozone as the familiar pull of the God-Kings Lightning transited his chamber into the aether. “That ridiculous duardin finally calls us, and I can only hope the task is worthy of our attention,” he mused. A last look around confirmed that the entire chamber had already been transported and he gave into his god’s power as sweet oblivion took him. 

A flash brought Arlardon back, and into a world warped by madness. A profane sigil burned in the air not ten meters away and it’s insane radiance was already causing the armor of his brothers and sisters to chip into maddening fractals. His first thoughts to the Sacrosanct warriors he lead, but they had already formed up in the face of the ambush, their relentless training in action. His second thought was to the Duardin who were surely faltering against such chaos, but they were no where to be seen.

Instead a mass of chaos marked tzaangors lead by a mutated being on a spinning disk were charging toward their lines. The duardin would have to fend for themselves until this was dealt with, but the numbers of the beastmen did not bode well for his chamber. 

Arlardon’s fears were realized when the tzaangors slammed into the line of waiting redeemers and evocators as the reforging lightning struck down carrying his charges back to their chamber. He charged up a blast of lightning to do what he could, but the magic was shoved away by the gaunt man on the disk. The old fear of death and reforging started creeping into the back of his mind until suddenly he again felt the pull of Sigmar’s Lightning… 


“Grungi cursed weapon,” grumbled Humgrek as he again slammed the end of his axe into the oathstone as he had been instructed. First the God-King’s lads don’t show up and then they had to fight stinkin uzkul, and now they were hopelessly lost after being separated from their supplies during the battle. 

Again he felt the magic in the axe activate, but again no Stormcast lightning was to be had. Giving up, he slung the his oathstone onto his back and sighed, “Stabbs, it looks like we’re going to have to do this ourselves, as usual.”

“OK, boss, I’ll go rally the clan,” the shirtless assassin replied. 

“Wait… do you smell that?” Humgrek asked with a pause, “Greenskins, the worst kind too, grots and troggs.” 

A faint glimmer of excitement crossed over Stabb’s eyes as he said, “Today just keeps getting better, I’m always up for some dead greenskins.” Without another word he slinked away into the shadows to form up the ranks of the duardin. 

“Maniac,” thought Humgrek.


Arlardon landed in a daze as he was ripped from one battlefield and into another one. His fallen comrades already reforged and holding the line. Instead of obscene mutant beasts it was instead Skaven, an enemy that he was much more comfortable leading against. 

“Redemption Cache to the frontline, Squad One support them, Squad Two I’ll summon the boat, and you go get those Stormfiends lurking behind that ruin.” 

Confusion as to what was happening clouded his mind, but he easily recalled the gestures and words that would summon the boatman and his spiritual vessel. He suspected that the incompetent duardin king had somehow failed to properly activate the beacon, or worse the magic of Ulgu itself was interfering. It was going to be a long crusade. 


Rowan in his first games outside the home played a learning game against Nathan’s Disciples of Tzeentch. It was a hard fought match, but the young commander’s inexperience got him in the end. Lessons were learned about proper deployment. In his second game he faced Oliver’s Skaventide and things went much better. A crucial Lauchon the Soulseeker delivered a squad of Evocators into the back of a pack of Stormfiends and the brave warriors skillfully cut down the mutant rats, much to Oliver’s dismay.

Randy played in two games as well, the first against Dean’s Ossiarch Bonereapers. Dean made some amazing first turn charges, but greatly underestimated the toughness of Ironbreakers and how far +2 rerolling charges will slingshot Hammerers when they want to get somewhere. The ability to reroll saves is not full proof when “Mortal Wounds in Addition” are on the table and Randy won the day. In a second game against the infamous Jelloshot playing the new Gloomspite Gits a giant scrum of battleline and heroes commenced in the center of the board, while Jelloshot’s Troggs and Randy’s Hammerers stared at each other from their respective backlines, each daring the other to make the first move. The Troggs blinked first but failed to kill Humgrek who backed off allowing the mass of hammer wielding berserkers to pound the Troggs into pudding. 

It was a light hobby week for us, but we did manage to get Rowan’s army fully assembled and magnetized. While Randy painted his assassin, “Stabbs the Ginger Sticker.”

Next week is the Lone Star Open so we will not be in attendance, but our goal is to get Rowan’s Sequitors painted and get basecoats down on all of the Evocators.