Through the lands of Barak Varr, the Marshes of Madness, the Shadowlands, Ellyrion, Troll Country, and Ostland, a mighty doom was coming. Axes were ringing, bows were twanging, rifles firing, and sabers rattling. Forces led by a fierce and mighty slayer were on a path to glory, and that path would lead to the liberation of the many citizens of Order. Every fallen greenskin added blood to our beards and resolve to our broken souls. The forces of chaos melted before us, and clung to our boots. The dark elves took to their knees in pleading surrender, and were cut down without mercy, ears added to our necklaces of gore. A slayer knows no enemy worth the sufferance to live, only enemies worthy to die against. The surging throng continued for hours, battles were an endless stream of blood pouring against the mass of Order that had risen up above it all. When the night came to an end, at the top of the pile of corpses, the Slayers remained. Yet to find their mighty doom.
My guild really really digs the Slayers as a class, typically we've been running around T2 areas killing in a variety of ways. Something I cannot get enough of is the Conflict PQ's in the Dwarven lands. Seriously, this has GOT to be one of the best PQ implementations in the game, I want to see more of them. I have something of a habit towards naked gaming, so the Slayers are right up my alley. A few of us were on last night and as things started dwindling down, our conflict started to die off. Less destro were coming to fall at our axes, and we needed to resort to scenarios for renown. Yet, the other option was much more compelling, though it had not fallen upon us just yet…
We actually started off in Troll Country, just three of us from the guild grinding Chapter 7 for influence. Myself on a R16 Slayer, a R12 Rune Priest, and a R14 Ironbreaker. The rest of the guild had gone to sleep, or joined the alliance in T4 for killings. Nonetheless, we were owning these PQ's, and every passer-by took note. Slowly we began to pull in a few at a time to join us, and a second warband came up the hill where the Plague Trolls roamed. They wanted us to join them, uninterested I dismissed their "leader". I'd heard him before in region chat, and had run across the kind of disrespect a Warrior Priest like that had thrown around.
A Name For The Book Of Grudges – Tigole, Warrior Priest – unguilded
Ah, and perhaps some of you would assume my book would be filled with enemies? For naught, there are evils among us all, and they should be exposed. After respectfully declining, this Warrior Priest basically watched the three of us flip this PQ, a couple of his group were helping, but not him. Oh no, he stood near us, pointing and laughing as we struggled to face three champion plaguebearers at a time. Even going so far as to /puke at me when I hit the ground, though my Runepriest quickly rectified this condition. We knew alone that we could not face the Hero that was approaching in the final stage, and his group sprang to action. We are more than willing to help, had been looking to finish a PQ tonight though the limited numbers in our party would only allow the least fulfilling. With eight of us, we downed the final hero, and the rolls started coming in. I placed first overall in the PQ, with my guilded taking 2 and 3. Obviously since we rolled the first stage and gained most of the influence. 20 seconds ticked away, and a Gold bag ended up at my feet. Justified returns for dealing with a Warrior Priest of such low caliber.
Feeling righteous in my rewards and actions, I began to fill him in on the proper etiquette when approaching a smaller party. Oh yes, I did this in region chat. Though I could not raise my weapon to strike him, my tongue was hot and bursting with flames. He gave no argument in public, but the tells were nasty. In the end, we took on his party minus one, and were stronger. A display of leadership is all that is needed to win the arms and swords of fellow warriors. Most, though I believe it to be all minus the exceptions to the rule, will recognize a leader and willingly follow him to glory. Tigole did not, but as we made out way to the next PQ, region chat became alive with adds. Before we finished the hard PQ, the warband was three parties deep and the lust for blood was growing by the second. Naturally, seeing the hoard begin to grow, I did what any leader with half a mind should do. Point towards the nearest keep and charge headfirst into battle.
Every zone in Tier 2 fell to our hands within three hours. Resistance did not show in the form of direct opposition, but my guilded were willing to stay at BO's and scout for enemies. The warband was quick enough to respond to captures three times before they we no longer contested, though barely. Every keep we had taken was still standing at the end of the night, and our enemies were nowhere to be found. During our rampage across the lands a second warband was filled and following our every move. I contacted their leader, and we arranged to capture a zone split apart. One warband grabbing 2 BO's and a keep, then moving on after all the timers had fallen to zero. Everything was flawless, though barking out commands is not nearly as much fun as swinging axes in reckless abandon, the carpet of bodies was nice to walk on.
One thought on “Evolution of a Warband”
i want to make a pair of pants from greenskin skin . . . skin.