"Wild men are wild, free, but not children. I am great headman... I count many things: stars in sky, leaves on trees, men in the dark. You have a score of scores counted ten times and five. We have more. Big fights, and who will win?"
Points: 1,900
General: Leofa
WoffBoots: -
Battles: Won - / Drew - / Lost -
The Ride of the Rohirrim, The Return of the King
- 1 x Beastlord
- 1 x Wargor
- 1 x Shaman
- 10 x Ungor Raiders
- 18 x Ungor with Spear
- 21 x Ungor with Hand Weapon and Shield
- 23 x Gor with Two Hand Weapons
- 23 x Gor with Hand Weapon and Shield
- 9 x Minotaurs
- 10 x Bestigor with Two-Handed Weapons
- A Herdstone
Points: 1,900
General: Leofa
WoffBoots: -
Battles: Won - / Drew - / Lost -
The Wild Men of the Forest
Brokkor Mackabees
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| The forest is no home for a lord. Brokkor will live there only so long as he must, until the clans are forced to fight as one under his horned command. Then the old kingdom will live again, and the colours of Mackabees will fly from the ancient ramparts! |
 |
| A thuggish, brtual leader, always ready to drive his troops to slaughter like cattle. |
Bishop Bray
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| He preaches an eloquent sermon of endless violence amongst the burnt stones of a ruined chapel. If his congregation miss the finer points of the rhetoric, it matters little. The blood will still flow. |
Redouk Outraiders
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| Lurkers in darkness, hidden on the forest threshold. Once they make themselves known, it's already too late - the trap is sprung, the days of men number a few less. |
Clan Ungrol
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| A wild breed, backward and mulish, slow of thought but quick to anger. They dwell all along the wooded hills of the Drakwald, their inbred families eking out their bestial lives in rotting farms and stinking caves. |
Children of the Black Goat
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| A thousand young flow from her curdled groin, thick as frogspawn in the heart of the Drakwald forest. Ia! Ia! Shub-Niggurath, thy children venerate thee! |
The Kine in Yellow
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| Madness is theirs, the madness of the dispossessed. They ruled, once, in the Old Kingdoms, and will return to claim the crown and sceptre from those who think themselves purer or better. |
The Green Men
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| Drunk on dark victuals, lost in evil trances, the druidic worshippers of the elder forest gods know the true circle of life. Feed the roots blood, and the harvest comes soon. |
The Warpherd
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| When the spasm overtakes them, blood spouts from their foreheads in a jet higher than the mast of a ship. This is why you shouldn't put bonemeal in cattle feed. |
The Oncemen
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| There was a town in the deep woods once. They guarded its gates, but they couldn't save themselves from the enemy within. |
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