Kolonel Throatchoppa Rounds Up Da Oddboyz

Kolonel Og Throatchoppa narrowed his eyes against the biting wind howling through the mountains of Zodskull. The cold didn't bother him, his old hide was too tough and the scent of his prey was in his nostrils. His retinue and kommando teams were spread out across the mountainside so he was fairly sure that they had their quarry surrounded, but he didn't get to be Kolonel of the Shooty Boyz by being "fairly" sure.

Og took one last drag on his cigar, cast it aside and cautiously peered over the snow bank. Nothing. The snow whipped back and forth in tense flurries and somewhere high above the sun tried in vain to burn through the stratospheric cloud banks. Still nothing. But the skin around the base of his bionic arm graft was itching, a sure sign that something wyrd was about to happen.

"Boss! Boss! Ee's over 'ere! No, no, not me danglies-" ZZAP! The hollering of an underling was cut short with a flash of green light from behind a nearby ridge and a startled yelp. Og broke into a lumbering run and vaulted across the rocky outcrop. The Kolonel landed boot-first on a rather startled Warphead, knocking him to the ground. Og drew his shoota and rammed it into the mouth of the Ork psyker. The warphead glared up at the warboss for a second with eyes of burning green lightning, before a look of recognition crossed his face.

“Og Throatchoppa, ya ol’ git, why didn’t ya say it wuz yoo?” mumbled the weirdboy through a mouth full of gunmetal as the light faded from his eyes.

“Yer not gunna giv me any trouble, are ya Zogbog?” asked Og, giving the back of the weirdboyz throat a shove with the barrel of his gun.

“Nah, we’re good, “ grinned Zogbog. Og eyed him cautiously for a moment longer then released him.

“Yooz alright Muggrub?” asked Og, turning to the Nob whose cries had drawn his attention earlier.

“Yeah boss,” replied Muggrub as he sulkily patted at his still smoking loincloth.

“Why didn’t ya just tell me yooz were comin’?” asked Zogbog, leaning on his staff and pulling faces at Muggrub.

“Coz yoo and yur mad mob would have led uz a merry dance across dees mountains jus fur laughs,” growled Og.

“Well now yooz ruined me fun, why are ya ‘ere?” asked the weirdboy?

“‘Umies are coming,” replied the Kolonel, lighting a fresh cigar.

“You think I don’t know dat?” grinned Zogbog, “Mork’s been whisperin’ to me at night. Been whisperin’ to the mad boyz too. Sez a big ruck’s commin’. You know dat big ruck we ‘ad before? Da really big ‘un? Bigger even than dat.”

“Dat’s wat I’m countin’ on,” replied Og with a grin, “fightin’ an lootin’, lootin’ and fightin’, itz what we were made fur.”

“And yoo thought me and da nutty gitz would like a lift to da fight? ‘Ow thoughtful!” said Zogbog, performing an elaborate bow.

“I need a few oddboyz on me crew, yur a Blood Axe and ya didn’t make me ‘ead explode last time, so you’ll do as me weirdboy,” explained Og.

“Wuld I be right in sayin’ that this ain’t an invitation?” inquired Zogbog.

“Yoo wuld.”

“Okie dokie. Where to den boss? I ‘ere dat some of da boyz are musterin’ at da Dogroks?”

“Yer, but first we need to pay a visit to Kilkart on Gogshuv,” replied Og Thoatchoppa, “so round up yur mad mob, and do it fast or all da ‘umies will be ded by da time we get der.”