Tales from Albian - Issue Seven

Tales from Albian

Chaos Chosen Warriors - The Psychotic

 

My ‘Hord North or the Wall’ Army finishes with my Chaos Chosen Warriors, which are themed around a set of marauding barbarians. This unit is a total of about 40, with three Forgeworld Fimir acting as unit fillers, making a total of 31 different models from about 20 different manufactures and/or conversions.

 

The Unit

Let’s start with Duke Anthrax von Gregor, Thricedamed Lord of Chaos! Anthrax is a converted miniature from reaper miniatures called thricedamed or something like that. His head and axe have been replaced from old parts, Blood Bowl bits amongst others. 

My old Chaos Warrior from Blood Bowl was called von Gregor. Where did the Anthrax come from? Well when the ‘end times’ happened, and then the complete loss of Warhammer (dumbest decision known to man, but I won’t start) I wanted to replace Archaon as my general, to both symbolise the death of Warhammer, and the emergence of Oldhammer.

Duke Anthrax von Gregor, Thricedammed

So that said Anthrax needed a back story to tie it all in. So I made one up, here is my first little short story:

He awoke into the storm as it raged in the darkness. Archaon stood alone in the emptiness he was triumphant in bringing the world to his feet, he was a living God and he knew it.

As he stared into the void he took pleasure in his achievements, the void slowly took shape of all that he had dreamed to be Everchosen Lord of Chaos. The souls he had condemned to an untold fate swirled around him.

Then the void spoke 'Archaon the Everchosen you have conspired against me'. Another voice spoke 'you betrayer' many voices spoke 'fool', 'you dare to usurp us'. Archaon laughed for he feared nothing yet he knew these voices, they were the same voices that had spoken to him for eons. They were the voices that had led him to his victories. They were the many faces of the waste, so many voices that could drive any mortal man insane. But Archaon was not mortal, he was a god enshrined in legend to live forever to torment mortal souls. 

He could still feel the old world about him, yet his physical presence seemed to be drifting. He could still see the last of his loyal servants, Anthrax, on the battlefield. He drew him close and spoke 'follow me as I have commanded, do not stop until all have fallen to worship me'. 

'The world is changing my lord' said Archaon's Sword.  

The voices grew louder and he sensed something was wrong.

He wasn't the same.

He was changing.

He no longer stood in the void but was part of it. No longer was he the Everchosen he was something more, something less.....
....The ultimate gift of all, he was a God!

Archaon was gone as was everything, but Anthrax could still hear him in his ears. He was alone in the waste, it was an unfamiliar waste, he had traveled far and wide since nearly the first days of Archaon's rise yet he had no memory of this place. 

He was unsure of what had happened yet he knew one thing, he must do as commanded by his now God master. Continue to destroy all that opposed him, and enslave the rest.

So came to being, the first of Anthrax's damings...Duke Anthrax von Gregor, Thricedamed Lord of Chaos!

Bly Bloodman, Aspiring Champion 

Well I hope you all liked that? I got into making up stories for all of the unit last week and here are a few more for you all, would love feedback if people want more......or do I stop all the non-sense? Anyway next is Bly Bloodman is the Chosen Aspiring Champion:

Byl was whistling to his faithful friend to come swing in behind his flock, as he felt a twitch run down his spine. 

He shrugged it off as an effect of the bitter wind. The wind was particularly foul this winter. Even more so today as if it had a mind of its own it blew down from the Dundian mountains into the foothills that Byl used for grazing his sheep.

At that moment he noticed the ewe closest appeared to be lame, as he approached, it tired to bolt off but it could hardly move, grabbing the ewe he knelt down to inspect the it. The animal had a deformity in its legs, a bubbling of the flesh with legs that appeared to be long stumpy appendages rather than actual legs. Byl concerned looked up to notice another lame ewe close by, scared that some strange disease had started to take hold of his valuable livestock, he reached for his knife and slowly cut the ewes neck to relive it agony. 

As the warm blood flowed over his hands. He heard a voice. 

‘Hummm warm isn't it!' It whispered.

Byl rose and called out 'who's there?

But while there was no reply he could feel an answer, 'yes it was warm and it felt good'......

......Byl was never seen again but, his village search party sent out to look for him found the remains of his butchered flock littered across the hillside.

Drast the Hunchback of Albian

Drast the Hunchback of Albian with Banner of Skin:

Little is known of Drast save he was deformed at birth and was found enslaved in Kislev, until Anthrax swept through. As Anthrax flailed alive all those stood in his way, Drast found himself without a master, lost and unsure he lifted the skin from of the fallen on a branch. Drast followed Anthrax throughout his conquests through the empire, with what is now his feared banner, driving terror into all men!

Ragnor the Blind, with the Horn or Despair!

Ragnor the Blind, with Horn of Despair:

Once a celebrated warrior-priest of a small northern clan, Ragnor was known for his unmatched clarity of vision—both literal and spiritual. He guided his people through treacherous storms and led them to victory against marauding invaders. Yet his fame became his downfall when rival tribes conspired to blind him. Ambushed under the guise of parley, Ragnor's eyes were burned by molten iron, plunging him into eternal darkness.

Cast out by his own people, who feared him cursed, Ragnor wandered aimlessly until he stumbled upon a desolate altar deep in the wastes. There he found the Horn of Despair, a cursed relic that called to him in whispers. When he raised the horn to his lips and sounded its mournful cry, the sound summoned the spirits of all who had betrayed him. These vengeful wraiths ravaged his enemies, but their power also bound Ragnor’s soul to Chaos.

It was during one such summoning that Anthrax found him, a lone figure surrounded by writhing, vengeful spirits. Recognizing the power of the horn, Anthrax offered Ragnor a chance to exact vengeance not just on his betrayers, but on the world itself. Ragnor accepted, becoming a fearsome herald of despair and one of Anthrax’s most loyal followers.

The Wall and the Hord!

Well I hope thats not too much, and I am busy working on short stories for the rest of the unit for next week, which I think will conclude Tales from Albian, after which we will move onto my next fully painted army from back around 2015 ish.

Until next week folks, stay safe!