Steefan Horking and his Cybork Boyz
- Thread starter Orjetax
- Start date
Orjetax
Member
Illuminated by the fires of the burning weapons cache, Steefan Horking seethed.
The orders were so simple he had given them to Lugrob. Lugrob, who was none too smart before the stunties blew most of his head off. Lugrob, whose brains Bad Dok Sawteef had shoveled inside a stainless steel skull. Lugrob, who was now nowhere to be seen.
Stay here, Lugrob.
Watch the cache, Lugrob.
Don't let no one touch the rokkits, Lugrob.
Definitely not the runts who've been trying to get at them all day, Lugrob.
And Lugrob - don't leave.
Lugrob had stared vacantly. and he had clicked his bionik pincer a few times. Steefan Horking had taken that as a sign of understanding.
The burning cache, and the empty spot where Lugrob should have been standing, showed otherwise. If all that clicking had been a sign of something, it most surely wasn't "understanding."
Rolling through camp angrily, Steefan Horking found the stupid git outside of the medical hut.
"Oy! Oy Lugrob! Oy!"
Lugrob stated back, bionik eyes glowing dimly. He snapped his pincer. CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.
Steefan Horking pulled his shoota from its holster. He prepared to growl at Lugrob, but then --
A second . . . Lugrob?
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the first Lugrob.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the the second Lugrob.
Two Lugrobs? Steefan Horking felt his brain pounding against his skull (though, perhaps, it was one of widgets Dok Sawteef had installed up there misfiring again).
"Which one of you stupid gits is Lugrob?"
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the first Lugrob.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the second Lugrob.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the third Lugrob, stepping out of the hut.
The orders were so simple he had given them to Lugrob. Lugrob, who was none too smart before the stunties blew most of his head off. Lugrob, whose brains Bad Dok Sawteef had shoveled inside a stainless steel skull. Lugrob, who was now nowhere to be seen.
Stay here, Lugrob.
Watch the cache, Lugrob.
Don't let no one touch the rokkits, Lugrob.
Definitely not the runts who've been trying to get at them all day, Lugrob.
And Lugrob - don't leave.
Lugrob had stared vacantly. and he had clicked his bionik pincer a few times. Steefan Horking had taken that as a sign of understanding.
The burning cache, and the empty spot where Lugrob should have been standing, showed otherwise. If all that clicking had been a sign of something, it most surely wasn't "understanding."
Rolling through camp angrily, Steefan Horking found the stupid git outside of the medical hut.
"Oy! Oy Lugrob! Oy!"
Lugrob stated back, bionik eyes glowing dimly. He snapped his pincer. CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.
Steefan Horking pulled his shoota from its holster. He prepared to growl at Lugrob, but then --
A second . . . Lugrob?
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the first Lugrob.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the the second Lugrob.
Two Lugrobs? Steefan Horking felt his brain pounding against his skull (though, perhaps, it was one of widgets Dok Sawteef had installed up there misfiring again).
"Which one of you stupid gits is Lugrob?"
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the first Lugrob.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the second Lugrob.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK went the third Lugrob, stepping out of the hut.
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Orjetax
Member
Steefan Horking stared, baffled and angry. All three Lugrobs snapped their pincers.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
Three Lugrobs? Which was the Lugrob who was not guarding the cache?
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
Steefan Horking would have frowned if not for his bionik jaw. Three Lugrobs. None talking. All click-click-clicking. For a moment, Steefan Horking was stymied. Then he remembered - he was the boss for a reason.
DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA
Pleased with himself, and soothed by the cloud of smoke rising from the business end of his shoota, Steefan Horking rolled away.
He was a good halfway across camp when the three Lugrobs started clicking again.
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
Three Lugrobs? Which was the Lugrob who was not guarding the cache?
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
CLICK-CLICK-CLICK
Steefan Horking would have frowned if not for his bionik jaw. Three Lugrobs. None talking. All click-click-clicking. For a moment, Steefan Horking was stymied. Then he remembered - he was the boss for a reason.
DAKKA-DAKKA-DAKKA
Pleased with himself, and soothed by the cloud of smoke rising from the business end of his shoota, Steefan Horking rolled away.
He was a good halfway across camp when the three Lugrobs started clicking again.
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Blue in VT
Moderator
great stuuf....too funny.Blue
Count Von Bruno
Member
Yeah man, very well done.
That stainless steel painboy is a total dude, 3 of him is even better!
That stainless steel painboy is a total dude, 3 of him is even better!
Chico
Member
theottovonbismark
Member
Awesome thread. Absolutely love those back plates, they are genius.
Chico
Member
Orjetax":32m9vuew said:
You know, I've mentioned it in other threads, but I still have no idea what the goat references are supposed to mean.
I must have been absent from class the day that one got explained.
It/Goats was bought up at random some point last year and it just kinda stuck around. There's also a Frothers forum crossover where the Goat thing/joke also lurks.
So long story short Goat Jokes/pictures are a Oldhammer forum injoke.
Orjetax
Member
Gotcha. (Goatcha? Not funny yet. I'll work on it).
I want to solicit some feedback on this question:
I had the below ork slated for my blood axes. As I looked at it, I felt the legs looked rather bionik, and he might fit in well with Steefan Horking here and his boyz. Looks to me that there are some fair "worky bits" on the back of the legs. I see the legs in yellow and maybe a bright-ish blue to tie into the color scheme, and maybe experiment here with some yellow or blue face or body paint. And bionik legs do fit in with the notion of a mine field that I've articulated here in my silly little fluff.
As always, these are the kinds of choices where we only have to satisfy ourselves. But I'll like it better if other folks readily "get what I'm going for."
What do you think? Cybork with bionik legs, or stick him with the Blood Axes?
I want to solicit some feedback on this question:
I had the below ork slated for my blood axes. As I looked at it, I felt the legs looked rather bionik, and he might fit in well with Steefan Horking here and his boyz. Looks to me that there are some fair "worky bits" on the back of the legs. I see the legs in yellow and maybe a bright-ish blue to tie into the color scheme, and maybe experiment here with some yellow or blue face or body paint. And bionik legs do fit in with the notion of a mine field that I've articulated here in my silly little fluff.
As always, these are the kinds of choices where we only have to satisfy ourselves. But I'll like it better if other folks readily "get what I'm going for."
What do you think? Cybork with bionik legs, or stick him with the Blood Axes?
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theottovonbismark
Member
CYBORK by Gork!!!
No self respectin' Blood Axe boy would be without iz Oomieform.
I like the way he seems to look like he has forgotten where he put his shirt.
Any yes, Blood Axes have a concept of self respect, that's why they can...erm taktikal retreat.
No self respectin' Blood Axe boy would be without iz Oomieform.
I like the way he seems to look like he has forgotten where he put his shirt.
Any yes, Blood Axes have a concept of self respect, that's why they can...erm taktikal retreat.
Count Von Bruno
Member
I'm (too) picky about which minis I use for each clan-what I love about seeing other people's Orks is seeing what minis they use for each clan, or if they use a pre existing clan at all 
I'd use him as a cybork, as they definitely look like mechanical whatsies and I'm pretty sure there are more Blood Axe looking boyz around than cyborky ones.
I like how the studio themselves paid scant regard to what clan the mini was from when making Ghazgkhull's warband in it's variations (but that's an Evil Sunz boy!!! )
I'd use him as a cybork, as they definitely look like mechanical whatsies and I'm pretty sure there are more Blood Axe looking boyz around than cyborky ones.
I like how the studio themselves paid scant regard to what clan the mini was from when making Ghazgkhull's warband in it's variations (but that's an Evil Sunz boy!!!
)
Orjetax
Member
Thanks for weighing in, TOVB and CVB! Cybork it is.
Yes, they weren't too tied down back in the day were they? I was a big fan of the multiple clans in one army, that's why I've got and continue to build now.
Edit: and be prepared to see a brief homage incorporated into the accompanying fluff in recognition of the inspiration you've supplied here . . .
Yes, they weren't too tied down back in the day were they? I was a big fan of the multiple clans in one army, that's why I've got and continue to build now.
Edit: and be prepared to see a brief homage incorporated into the accompanying fluff in recognition of the inspiration you've supplied here . . .
Orjetax
Member
"The shirt had been Kownt Von Bizmork's favorite. It had come from a raid on a 'umie planet, one of the ones where the 'umies all marched in rows and had pointy helmets.
Steefan Horking and his boyz (of which Kownt Von Bizmork was one of the toughest) had shot up the 'umie Arguing Hut -- which was called a Parley-Meant -- pretty good. And that's where he found his favorite shirt on a dead 'umie.
Kownt Von Bizmork's favorite shirt had fancy gilt buttons. And lots of medals that jangled pleasingly. And all kinds of bright ribbons. And shoulder decorations which were called, as Kownt Von Bizmork understood the term, 'Paul's ets.'
Sure, sneaky Blood Axe gits had enviously tried to nick Kownt Von Bizmork's favorite shirt. But he had gotten to stab or shoot several, so as far as Kownt Von Bizmork was concerned, this was a plus. And while some of his fellow Bad Moonz were suspicious that his favorite shirt "looked like an 'oomieform," most could agree that with all those bright jangly bits, it was pretty flash, indeed.
And so it was that Kownt Von Bizmork made an attractive target for the ambushing stunties when they opened fired. Several of the boyz around him were scythed down instantly, leaving Kownt Von Bizmork momentarily confused and exposed.
Moments later, Steefan Horking pushed himself to his feet a few feet away. Kownt Von Bizmork was impressed at how the nob could still seem to scowl, what with his jaw shot away and his face on fire and all.
Horking had charged off the road, looking to come to grips with the stunties. Kownt Von Bizmork followed moments later, revving his chainsword bayonet as he ran.
Kownt Von Bizmork had been surprised when the mines exploded and Steefan Horking's upper body went pinwheeling through the air. He was no loss surprised when the mines detonated under his own feet.
The blast shredded Kownt Von Bizmork's legs into gory ribbons of torn muscle. When he crashed again to the ground, he thought first of his legs. This was because he was staring at them - eyeball to toe nail.
To be sure, these circumstances were about as bad as bad could get. Lasgun and heavy weapon fire from the stunties scorched the air, cutting down orks in droves. Mines continued to detonate all around Kownt Von Bizmork, showering him with scorched clods of earth.
Worst, Kownt Von Horking could feel the blood pouring out of the ruins of his legs. He grew light headed an cold. So cold.
Wait. Cold? COLD?!
His favorite shirt!
WHERE WAS HIS FAVORITE SHIRT?
The explosions must have blown it clean off him. Seized by a heady mix
of rage, desperation, and adrenaline, Kownt Von Bizmork cast about nearby for any hint of his favorite shirt.
Desperate minutes passed. Fighting to stay conscious, and crawling below the volleys of stunty lasgun fire, Kownt Von Bizmork finally caught a glimpse of shining medals! Some silly git had gotten killed and fallen on his favorite shirt!
Kownt Von Bizmork reached out and pulled his favorite shirt tight to his torso. He inhaled deeply the sweaty scent of its fabric. And that was how Kownt Von Bizmork finally passed out.
. . .
He awoke in the medikal hut. His jaw hurt, presumably because Bad Dok Sawteef or one of his grots had chiseled out teef as payment for services rendered.
Surprised at the discovery, Kownt Von Bizmork found that he could wriggle his feet. Bionik legs! Kownt Von Bizmork flexed them experimentally and was pleased with how they responded to his will.
Kownt Von Bizmork smiled at this good fortune. He was alive, and able to go take revenge from those sneaky stunties.
And yet.
Kownt Von Bizmork was cold. Still.
Why was he cold?
Kownt Von Bizmork slapped his hand to his head in dismay.
Then he slapped his chest in dismay.
Then he slapped his head in dismay again.
WHERE WAS HIS FAVORITE SHIRT?"
Hope you like the homage here, CVB and TOVB. Much thanks for your encouragement to push this mini into the cybork project. I'm pleased with the result!
By way of other updates, I rescued another from the pile of maybe-blood axes when I noticed his bionik arm:
And I added weathering to two models without it (two of the three 'Lugrobs'):
Steefan Horking and his boyz (of which Kownt Von Bizmork was one of the toughest) had shot up the 'umie Arguing Hut -- which was called a Parley-Meant -- pretty good. And that's where he found his favorite shirt on a dead 'umie.
Kownt Von Bizmork's favorite shirt had fancy gilt buttons. And lots of medals that jangled pleasingly. And all kinds of bright ribbons. And shoulder decorations which were called, as Kownt Von Bizmork understood the term, 'Paul's ets.'
Sure, sneaky Blood Axe gits had enviously tried to nick Kownt Von Bizmork's favorite shirt. But he had gotten to stab or shoot several, so as far as Kownt Von Bizmork was concerned, this was a plus. And while some of his fellow Bad Moonz were suspicious that his favorite shirt "looked like an 'oomieform," most could agree that with all those bright jangly bits, it was pretty flash, indeed.
And so it was that Kownt Von Bizmork made an attractive target for the ambushing stunties when they opened fired. Several of the boyz around him were scythed down instantly, leaving Kownt Von Bizmork momentarily confused and exposed.
Moments later, Steefan Horking pushed himself to his feet a few feet away. Kownt Von Bizmork was impressed at how the nob could still seem to scowl, what with his jaw shot away and his face on fire and all.
Horking had charged off the road, looking to come to grips with the stunties. Kownt Von Bizmork followed moments later, revving his chainsword bayonet as he ran.
Kownt Von Bizmork had been surprised when the mines exploded and Steefan Horking's upper body went pinwheeling through the air. He was no loss surprised when the mines detonated under his own feet.
The blast shredded Kownt Von Bizmork's legs into gory ribbons of torn muscle. When he crashed again to the ground, he thought first of his legs. This was because he was staring at them - eyeball to toe nail.
To be sure, these circumstances were about as bad as bad could get. Lasgun and heavy weapon fire from the stunties scorched the air, cutting down orks in droves. Mines continued to detonate all around Kownt Von Bizmork, showering him with scorched clods of earth.
Worst, Kownt Von Horking could feel the blood pouring out of the ruins of his legs. He grew light headed an cold. So cold.
Wait. Cold? COLD?!
His favorite shirt!
WHERE WAS HIS FAVORITE SHIRT?
The explosions must have blown it clean off him. Seized by a heady mix
of rage, desperation, and adrenaline, Kownt Von Bizmork cast about nearby for any hint of his favorite shirt.
Desperate minutes passed. Fighting to stay conscious, and crawling below the volleys of stunty lasgun fire, Kownt Von Bizmork finally caught a glimpse of shining medals! Some silly git had gotten killed and fallen on his favorite shirt!
Kownt Von Bizmork reached out and pulled his favorite shirt tight to his torso. He inhaled deeply the sweaty scent of its fabric. And that was how Kownt Von Bizmork finally passed out.
. . .
He awoke in the medikal hut. His jaw hurt, presumably because Bad Dok Sawteef or one of his grots had chiseled out teef as payment for services rendered.
Surprised at the discovery, Kownt Von Bizmork found that he could wriggle his feet. Bionik legs! Kownt Von Bizmork flexed them experimentally and was pleased with how they responded to his will.
Kownt Von Bizmork smiled at this good fortune. He was alive, and able to go take revenge from those sneaky stunties.
And yet.
Kownt Von Bizmork was cold. Still.
Why was he cold?
Kownt Von Bizmork slapped his hand to his head in dismay.
Then he slapped his chest in dismay.
Then he slapped his head in dismay again.
WHERE WAS HIS FAVORITE SHIRT?"
Hope you like the homage here, CVB and TOVB. Much thanks for your encouragement to push this mini into the cybork project. I'm pleased with the result!
By way of other updates, I rescued another from the pile of maybe-blood axes when I noticed his bionik arm:
And I added weathering to two models without it (two of the three 'Lugrobs'):
