Too much red wine...clearly

In the time before the oceans drank many Fantas, and the rise of the sons of Soriasis, there was an age undreamed of…

And unto this, the Warhamster; destined to balance the jewelled crown of Portmuck upon a troubled snout;

It is I, his chronicler who alone can tell thee of his saga;

Let me tell you of the days of weird adventurrrrrre…

 

(where not everything is  painnnted…)

 The Witch Queen of Portmuck

Four and twenty dodgy-shrooms, she baked them in a pie

Stared at all her enemies, with one efficient eye

Advised in every foible, by Squalid Sid the imp

She would be half attractive, if it wasn’t for her limp.

(buh-boom)

The Witch Queen, in one of her many guises, showing a generous portion of thigh. In this case however, our spies believe that it’s a wooden leg which houses a wand of fireballs.

Shur-Lee (Shirley to her friends) the immortal Witch Queen of Portmuck; forced to imbibe kitten brains through a straw in order to preserve her youthful appearance (wow - that is evil), she is the arch nemesis of the Warhamster.

Even now, she plots, in league with Chief Bwian of the Brown Orcs (Brown Orcs are known for their speech impediments) and Hamish Toadsplitter, leader of the swamp ogres (Swamp Ogres are known for exaggerating minor accomplishments), with malignant intent -shaped by her belief in her manifest destiny to rule the Upnoth region and squeeze it dry in her grip of light gauge steel.

The Brown Orcs, if well led, can be formidable (And can even remain unpainted at a pinch), while Swamp Ogres have to be paid as mercenaries (their brains operate on the basis of basic economic supply and demand theory). Should Upnoth ever consider employing them for their inherent accountancy, business and financial skills, it might even drag itself out of the dark ages. Such a pity the gods and goddesses have touched them sternly with the misshapen-pug-ugly stick! (Should employment legislation ever reach the Upnoth region, this will all be sorted.)

 They have a cave twoll!

The twolls (referred to as trolls by scholars, but who in the nine hells would listen to those guys) are a confused lot. They might be Giants (See what I did there). In fact, they could be Troll Giants.

Using this rationale, we can safely describe most of the fantastic creatures that populate the Upnoth region.

Tiger-Flies

Dwarf-Beholders

Banshee-Elfs

Demon-Frogs

See – it’s easy.

 Mercenaries

(with cool names like Jenny’s Bows, Murkle’s Maces, and the Gay Blades…wait…what?)

The thing about mercenaries, is that they’re in it for life. Not because they enjoy their somewhat politically incorrect profession, but because they’re thick. Most of them come from the more settled areas in the south, thinking that they’ll make a fast buck. The issue here is that they’re not the sharpest tools in the box. They undercharge for goods and services, and have been forced down in terms of their value in the supply chain. 

This has mainly been accomplished through excellent supply chain management in this area. The Witch Queen, it has claimed, garnered her skills in the aerospace sector in another dimension, before returning to her nether realm and using those self same skills to make sure that hard working subcontractors couldn’t possibly make a bloody profit, yet would have to go with it since her custom is the only game in town! Ahem…sorry, getting carried away.

Having said that, some mercs refuse to work for her, claiming that her HR department demons refuse to let them swear in battle. This is anathema to the reputation of the hard fightin’ mercs, who like to say *(content edited by HR demons)* .

The Knights of Ken

Ken’s knights were once mercenaries too, but a little smarter. This means that their numbers are considerably lesser, and their allegiances are always difficult to understand. Clearly, they are descendents of some ancient mystical order, who will steal all of the riches in the land and set up the equivalent of Switzerland at some stage in the future. For now, they’re pretty ‘ardcore.

The Kalts

What a bunch of mad b******s. No seriously. These guys are either at war, or playing a game called ‘sandal-ball’, which is normally more violent than being at war. Nuff’ said, though this is all you need to know.

• If you tell them to hold, they will charge.
  If you tell them to take prisoners, they will probably eat them.
  If you tell them to attack…they probably will do as you say, unless they change sides. Then they’ll kill you.
  Their god 'Kram' simply does not care, or listen. (Though he used to be a decent middle distance runner).

 

Waxian Nomads

The Nomads used to be called injuns, but HR were having none of it. Truth be told, they own the place, but as with most colonial tragedies, the chances of them ever getting their land back rely on (1) asteroid impact wiping everyone else out or (2) political correctness starting in the age of exploration and in the midst of Fantasy Empires clashing (which let’s face it, is a non starter really).

 The Roly Homan Empire

The Empire are probably going to make inroads up this direction, when the indigenous population have killed each other ;)

Emperor Roly XXXVII may even turn up in a skyboat.

Should I do a map or something?