Magrat's Mad Moon Marauders
Journey from the HobGobla Khanate:
Leavin' the Hobgobla Khanate weren't easy, not with them sneaky Hobgobs nippin' at our heels and them weird, screechin' sandstorms. But Magrat Mad Moon led us through, him and his shiny mace, Kraglash, smackin' sense into anyone who got too complainy.
"Stop yer whinin', we got loot to find in the Old World, an' we're goin' fer the good stuff," Magrat barked, his shield showin' that grinnin' mad moon like it'd slap us itself if it could.Through the World's Edge Mountains:
Gettin' past them mountains, now that was a headache. Snow like you wouldn't believe, and paths that'd give a mountain goat second thoughts. Then came the choice: head toward the Empire or push through to the Border Princes.
"Empire's full o' knights and their shiny armor, boss," Grubnash Double-Axe, our champ, pointed out, playin' with his axes.
"Bah, too shiny. We're goin' to the Border Princes. More variety, like a fightin' buffet," Magrat decided, and that was that.
A Split Path and a Tough Choice:
Now once in the Princes we had us a good chinwag 'bout where to take the boyz next. "Boss, how 'bout we head fer some Elves?" suggested Grubnash
"Nah, too twiggy," scoffed Magrat. "Me mace is itchin' for somethin' harder. We're goin' Dwarf huntin'."
"Speakin' of itchin', these boots are killin' me," complained Skarlug, our drummer.
"Quit yer bellyachin'. Those are Hobgobla boots, good fer stompin'," Magrat snapped.
The Showdown at sum mouti’n:
Marchin' through sum big rocks, we heard the clangin' an' chantin' of Dwarf warriors. Settin' up across a stony ridge, Magrat glared at the Dwarf Thane up on his wall holler’n.
"Oi, Beardy! Ya lookin' to get stomped?"
"Go back to yer mudholes, Greenskin!" the Thane yelled back.
Magrat grinned, showin' all his pointy teeth. "You heard 'im, boyz. Let's get to stompin'!"Battle an' Glory:
When Skarlug started his drummin', we knew it was go time. Shields up, axes ready, we smashed into 'em like a sledgehammer on an anvil. Grubnash was a whirlwind o' axes an’ tore through 'em like they waz snots. But it was Magrat, ‘e waz mad, that Dwarf Thane didn't stand a chance. One good whack from Kraglash, and he was down, screamin' for his ancestors or some Dwarfy god.
"Gritfang, keep that standard high!" Magrat yelled, and our standard bearer lifted the grinnin' mad moon banner like he was holdin' up the sky itself..
We left 'em runnin' and took their shiny stuff and brews .Couldn't have gone better. "Good fight, boyz," said Magrat, "but keep yer axes sharp. There's more of 'em beardies out there to bash, more loot to grab."
We don't bother much with fancy words. Usually, we just yell, "Moon's out, choppa's out!" and get to the Crunpin’..
We're just gettin' started in the Old World, but we've already sent them Dwarfs packin' back home, but word's gettin' around. We're Magrat's Mad Moon Marauders, and we're just warmin' up.
What's a uniform? We got scale armor, steel-capped Hobgobla boots, and shields paint'd with all sorts of snarly faces. Good ‘nough.
We're all 'bout heavy armor and axes, big bova boots and our shields... well, they're more for show, but dey look good.