Cold-Blooded Treachery Cleanse Mission - 1000 points - Orks vs. Orks Moondog's tale is not just the tale of an ork warrior, for he is an ork chieftain and as such, his actions dictate the actions of his Mob. The lives of scores of warriors are his to use according to whim or design. But Moondog is also a Prince, and so not only is his tale one of a Warboss, but it is the tale of a kingdom. There are Nine Bosrokks of the Nazgoffik Kingdom and each is owned by a Nazgoffik Grodd, or Darkmoon Prince. These Grodnobz are selected in a series of ceremonial trials mediated by the Weirdboyz of Ogzor and their grot Scribes. The tests involve endurance, survival, cunning and, of course, mortal combat. Of the Nine, one is chosen to be King, inheritance passing to his chosen successor. Overdog is the reigning Nazgoffik Morgrodd, or Darkmoon King, and he has chosen one to be his heir from amoung the Groddz; Gorbag, who upon completing the trials of Ogzor, took the name of Moondog in honour of the one who had been his mentor since his night of hatching. But in his promotion, Moondog had unknowingly made enemies of others who would have had the Crown of Nazgof rest upon a different head. The ancient hallways of Ogzor cast many shadows which onscured many things dark and dangerous that watched and waited and made plots within plots and bided their tiime while gathering strength to strike when the time had grown ripe. The Wauugh of Ghazghull Mag-Uruk Thraka opened a window of opportunity, and those that had waited for so long decided that their moment had come. With Moondog away from his side, there was no one to stand between Overdog and the serpents in his midst. Shagrat, Grodd Ug-Zagrokk came to Overdog in great excitement explaining that his scouts had shot down a Space Marine command shuttle in a remote location. Overdog took a small force and went quickly to try and catch the Imperial Skum while they were still vulnerable. The head of a Space Marine Captain would be a great trophy, and would just make the whole trip something to write home to the grotz about. When he arrived at the site however, there were no imperial gitz to be seen. Bez Bez, his trusted Weirdboy shaman, stopped and told him that the Warp was clouded and Gork's eye was obscured by a growing storm. "I got a feelin' bout dis, Boss. It'z all garged up..." Over the crest of a hill came a familiar klank klank klank... a Killer Kan squad. Shagrat's boyz were here already, getting the choice trophies for themselves. Overdog grew angry and thundered ahead, leaving most of his bodyguard behind in his haste. As Overdog came over the hill he came face to face with Shagrat's boyz who looked up at him and raised their weapons. "Squigdroppinz! A zoggin' trap!" Overdog's mega-armour strained to move his mass as he tucked into a roll, dodging the hail of fire from the treacherous orks that had once called him Warboss, and now sought his demise. "Look sharp there, ladz! Shagrat's against us! Form up squadz!" The gretchin krews scrambled to unlimber the big gunz with very little encouragement from their slaver for they knew that if they were defeated there would be no mercy from Shagrat's boyz. The first salvo was fired off within minutes, damaging the legs of one of Shagrat's Kanz. The response was a torrent of bullets from their big shootaz that dropped many of Overdog's orks as they scrambled into action. One mob of tankbusta boyz turned and fled, cursing their king as they left him to the mercy of his enemies. Shagrat ordered his boyz to wait. "It'z da Morgrodd we wantz. Let dem udder ladz go. Deff to Overdog!" One of the Nazgoffik Guard wartrakks lurched forward and fired off a blinding ball of radiation from its mega-blasta that incinerated a group of Shagrat's gretchin. The Kanz opened up on the vehicle and it stopped dead, smoke billowing from its engine. Overdog was still herding his troops into position when he heard the rumble of a wartrukk bearing down on them from around a hill. He turned to the mobs around him and barked at them. The first trukk was on them in moments, orks leaping over the sides before it had even come to a stop. One fired a burna into their ranks before they let out a mighty shout and charged into close combat. "Awlroit boyz! 'Ere we go! WAUUGH!" Overdog's boyz met the charge with a mighty surge and within a few ferocious moments it was finished. The trukk was a burning wreck and the first wave of attackers were dead, but Overdog's boyz had lost a few in the fight and the Morgrodd himself had taken a wound in the chest. He raised his power klaw and bellowed to his enemy. "Kum on yew weedy git! Kum out and fight yew naffer! Snotling pup! Overdog is here!" There was a rumble and then the second wave was upon them, a herd of gretchin charged over the hill as a second wartrukk hurtled down on them, Shagrat himself riding in front screaming in fury. There was a mighty clash of arms as the two groups of orks fell upon one another, each side bent on rending the other apart. Into the thick of the fray stomped a mighty Killer Kan, its combat saw whizzing and sending off sparks. Overdog turned to face it just as it drove the blade into the hole in the front of his armour where he was wounded. The blade whined and it's motor burned out as it caught on his ribs. "Oi! What r' you tryin' to do? Tickle me to deth?" The Kan was straining as the pilot struggled to release his machine, but Overdog took hold of it and swung his enormous power klaw around. It struck in a shower of electrical arcs. "RawwrG!" The Kan staggered backwards, its close combat arm torn off, flames and smoke billowing out of the ragged hole where it used to be. Overdog stepped forward and drove home the killing blow, driving his arm into the cockpit up to his elbow and pulling out the pilot's gizzards. The Kan stopped dead, steam and flame spewing from its every orafice. "How'z that now?" A ragged voice came from behind him. "Jus' fine, Boss. Hold it roit ...there!" Shagrat brought his choppa down on Overdog's head, knocking him to the ground. The Darkmoon King was lost under a mass of orks chopping and rending... and then there came an unearthly howling sound. They spun around and standing there was Bez Bez, green energy shining out of his eyes. His voice was booming and godlike. "Leggo uv da Morgrodd Ug-Nazgof in da name of Gork!" Some of the orks scratched their heads and looked at each other uncertainly. Shagrat stepped forward boldly. "Tell Gork 'e can zog off! Wauugh!" Bez Bez raised his hand and slowly clenched it into a fist. "Yew 'ave been warned!" He gestured at them with his fist, but something seemed to go wrong; the light from his eyes was getting brighter and the colour has shifted from green to red. Bez Bez was then lifted off the ground, his body twitching spastically, as though he were in the grip of an unseen giant that was squeezing him in his fist. Shagrat's boyz did not like the look of this. "..um I dunno 'bout dis boss..." The evil red light was now shining out of his ears and mouth as well and his voice came out as a squelchy gurgle. "-urg - red face - ggk - coming for blood - oog - !!" Suddenly Bez Bez's mouth opened impossibly wide and enormous red clawed hands reached up out of his throat. The weirdboy's body seemed to crumple up like an old sack as the nightmarish creature climbed out of his mouth. It was red and glowing like the embers of a fire, it's long clawed arms wielded burning blades and its terrifying face hissed unintelligible curses. It had a barbed tail that whipped the air like a lash and from the sides of its head came long curved horns like those of a horny-squig beast. It looked at Shagrat's mob and grinned. "Frag the zogger!" The orks were snapped out of their bewilderment by Shagrat's command and they opened fire on the warp-creature. It howled as bullets tore into its body, issuing little gouts of flame; it then turned and with supernatural speed it fled into the arctic wastes of Netheria and vanished from sight. When the creature was gone, Shagrat's boyz turned back to where they had left Overdog to get trophies but were shocked to see that he was gone, only his power klaw, with his tattooed hand inside it was there in the snow. Shagrat's eyes squinted as he scanned the horizon for signs of movement. Here and there he saw skirmishes as his boyz were finishing off the remains of Overdog's guards. The wind was picking up; a storm was brewing. Already the tracks and disturbances in the snow were disappearing, and in this weather squighounds wouldn't be able to catch any scent. The hunt would have to wait... now he had bigger squigs to fry. Once word reached him, Moondog would surely come and Shagrat had to be ready. Dylan - May 7, 2001