The warband crested the ridge at dawn, tired, hungry, and down to numbers Rugluk could count without taking his boots off.
Smoke rose from the valley below.
Rugluk narrowed his eyes. “Dat’s a camp.”
Hope stirred. Maybe a tribe. Maybe deserters. Maybe lads wot hadn’t heard about the whole “failed siege, mutiny, near-death” business.
They marched down, weapons ready.
They stumbled into a circle of snotligs arguing with a cooking pot. One snotling kicked the pot. Another tried to wear it. The only weapon in sight was a spoon. Bent.
Rugluk stared.
“…Dis is wot fate sends me?”
One of his orcs scratched his head. “Dey’s enthusiastic, boss.”
A snotling looked up, saw Rugluk, and pointed. “Oi! Big un! You 'now how ta make stew?”
Rugluk’s eye twitched.
They heard loud noises and the ground shook.
THUD.
THUD.
Two trolls stood behind the snotling mob, blank-faced, drooling, watching the fire with empty eyes.
One sniffed a snotling.
Rugluk’s grin spread slow and mean.
“You two - you’re hired.”
I decided to start the challenge with snotling bases and trolls. I caught a nasty flu and didn’t achieve quite as much as I would have liked, but I’m really happy with these guys. I managed to paint five bases of snotlings (with 28 snotlings) and two trolls. A third troll is nearly finished and will join the force at a later stage.
Enough talking, let's move on.
Just noticed that the OAMC for 2 trolls should be 4. I'll fix this in the running total next month
ReplyDelete