"I hate Elves, and if there's one thing I hate more than Elves it's painting free hand on banners or such like, and if there's one thing I hate more than painting free hand on banners or such like it's people who CAN paint free hand on banners or such like" - I'm JOKING....................... mostly..........................
Gosh, these guys have been a lot more difficult to paint up than expected. I thought they were going to be quick and easy, and in truth they haven't taken that long in actual painting time but May has been a long month life wise so painting time has been at a premium.
Still they're done now - one big unit of Slayers for my Imperial Dwarf Army.
Except they're not.
Most of these are actually Norse Dwarf Bezerkers, a troop type that folded into Slayers in the changes that occurred between 3rd and 4th.
I don't own a Norse Dwarf contingent so these guys will be used as Slayers, works for me!
The banner is rubbish and I gave up on tattoos when the first few I tried blured and looked really bad. I don't want to ruin an acceptable table top standard paint job so I'll leave them as is.
Banner is still crap though.
Now the blurb:
Doderik Dragonbane looked at his band of brothers. Some he'd fought alongside for many years, wandering from battle to battle, killing mighty beasts and monsters along the way, others had joined them during the last few days in the Dwarf camp.
The Dwarfs of the Middle Mountains prepared to face the Chaos host of Mutcharious the Mad and the Slayers had arrived to find glorious death to atone for past sins.
Doderik was old. He'd been seeking his Doom for what felt like forever. He recalled the screams of his Clansmen as they died from a sneak attack from the Orcs, an attack he should of been around to give warning for but Doderik had deserted his post when his Brother brought word that his Father was dying. Doderik had gone to his bedside to say his goodbyes and give praise to the Gods and implore them to accept his Father's spirit into their great feasting halls. He'd put his grief and sorrow before the needs of the Clan and his Clan had paid the price.
Doderik was old. He'd been seeking his Doom for what felt like forever. He recalled the screams of his Clansmen as they died from a sneak attack from the Orcs, an attack he should of been around to give warning for but Doderik had deserted his post when his Brother brought word that his Father was dying. Doderik had gone to his bedside to say his goodbyes and give praise to the Gods and implore them to accept his Father's spirit into their great feasting halls. He'd put his grief and sorrow before the needs of the Clan and his Clan had paid the price.
Doderik snapped back to the present.
"Bari" he barked "Have you fixed the Kings colour to our Standard?"
Bari nodded.
"Listen up Brothers" he said addressing the Slayers gathered before him. "We are the unforgiven, we have committed terrible crimes, there is no forgiveness on this mortal plain for us. We go to battle the foul spawn of Chaos and, Grimnir willing, we shall give our lives protecting others of Dwarf kind from the darkness. In this heroic act we will find forgiveness and release by our God's and our Ancestors."
All the other Slayers looked him, sorrow, pain and anger filled all of their eyes.
"Right" he said, hefting his mighty weapon and turning to the Chaos Horde, "Who wants some?"
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