Stux wrote:
I can't imagine a way Orks could possibly get worse with the codex, I'm sure you'll be ok.

 Arachnofiend wrote:

Stux wrote:
I can't imagine a way Orks could possibly get worse with the codex, I'm sure you'll be ok.

I mean, "nerf ork boyz without compensation" would be pretty simple.

Remember friends: having one good unit is still better than having zero good units. Pour one out for the Necrons before you hate on your own faction too much.

 lolman1c wrote:
Merry Waaaaaaaaaaghmas all! The galactic holiday where Orks throughout the stars set a side their differences to pick up a Fungus Beer and punch a beakie in the face! So my little monsters! What did you ask from Mork and Gork this Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghmas?!! I asked them to not kill my Evil Sunz characters on bikes in the upcoming codex. Hope I sent a letter to the right one and it was diverted to Slaanesh or Girlyman or someone.

 DoomMouse wrote:
I remember someone posted an orky version of 'the night before Christmas' a year or two back. If anyone could find it, it'd be appropriate for this thread

On dis day ya oomie's call "Emperor's day",
I call the boyz over and tell them to stay,
then tempt dem with fungus beer and squig snacks
to gather around the burning Rhino trakks

Dey sit round the fires and tell tales of fightin'
Fight together, each other, and now then
raise up their glasses and laugh in great haws
And I tell dem the story of Warboss Santy Klaws

Twas the night before Orkmass, and all though the diggs
Not a creature was stirring, not even da squiggs
The sluggas were hung by the smoke stacks and glyphs
In the hope that Warboss Stanty Klaws would come bearing gifts

The yoofs were all laid out all over the floor
Likely dreaming of choppas and shootas and war
Da Big meks were asleep in their large gubbin' stack
I was still awake in my chambers, planning for our next attack

When out in the boonies I heard a great clash
I jumped to the window, expecting a bash
Looking up I saw such a sight
AA dakkas firing maddly upward, the sky alight

From the muzzlefash of deff guns I did see
A red painted buggy, nailed on rockets flying free
Flying through the air like a deff kopta on crack
With the large figure atop it pullin on the slack

A massive green Ork in red coat and iron gob
A great Warboss, bellowing insult, not any nob
Faster than dakka jets, pulled on by the rig
by four angry, hungry, flying squigs

"On, Mangla! On Killa! Ya stupids gits!!
"On, Burna! On Rippa! I'll blast ya ta bitz!!
Get over dat wall, they can't hit worth a zog!
I ain't got all night, you cowering dog!"

As shell casing from quad guns continued to rain
He spun though the air, like a sideways hurricane,
aiming for the roof top of our base he crash land
he stepped out from the wreckage, a sack in one hand.

His boots stomped on roof, his squigs snarled and snap
the sacked was filled with shootas and choppas all in wrap.
I watched as he quiet his beasts with a massive thump
and then he was down the chimney in a single jump.

He was plated in 'eavy armor, from feet to his head
Boss pole packed with marine helmets, from chapters long dead
One hand was a oversized power klaw, which held his bag
And over it all was his red coat, which looked to be made from rag

His teef were plate in gold, his eyes red like fire
Cybork parts all flash, setting couldn't go higher.
The big shoota he carried was larger than I was
The squigs hairs on his chin white, just because

He chomped on the lit cigar wedged in his teef
Smoke filled da room, and into the floors beneath
He gave a great laugh and headed to the stockings
I didn't say a thing, I was too busy gawking

He was placing down presents while I was muckin' about
he pulled out rokkit launchas and mega blastas that I doubt
he could have in the bag, already bigger than I thought
But he still had the room for shootas for even the small grot

Pleased with his work, he turned back to me
thrusting mega armor in my arms, I fell to my knee
He pulled on the cord to a rokkit pack that strain
but with one last nod he was up the chimney again

He sprang to his buggy to his team he gave shout
And away they all flew, to complete his route
But I 'eard him exclaim, with a booming guffaw
"Merry Orkmass to all, and to all a good WAAAAAAGH!"

Stux wrote:
I can't imagine a way Orks could possibly get worse with the codex, I'm sure you'll be ok.

 Luke_Prowler wrote:
On dis day ya oomie's call "Emperor's day",
I call the boyz over and tell them to stay.....

But I 'eard him exclaim, with a booming guffaw
"Merry Orkmass to all, and to all a good WAAAAAAGH!"

 Luke_Prowler wrote:

 DoomMouse wrote:
I remember someone posted an orky version of 'the night before Christmas' a year or two back. If anyone could find it, it'd be appropriate for this thread

That was me I was just about to quote it when I saw the title

On dis day ya oomie's call "Emperor's day",
I call the boyz over and tell them to stay,
then tempt dem with fungus beer and squig snacks
to gather around the burning Rhino trakks

Dey sit round the fires and tell tales of fightin'
Fight together, each other, and now then
raise up their glasses and laugh in great haws
And I tell dem the story of Warboss Santy Klaws

Twas the night before Orkmass, and all though the diggs
Not a creature was stirring, not even da squiggs
The sluggas were hung by the smoke stacks and glyphs
In the hope that Warboss Stanty Klaws would come bearing gifts

The yoofs were all laid out all over the floor
Likely dreaming of choppas and shootas and war
Da Big meks were asleep in their large gubbin' stack
I was still awake in my chambers, planning for our next attack

When out in the boonies I heard a great clash
I jumped to the window, expecting a bash
Looking up I saw such a sight
AA dakkas firing maddly upward, the sky alight

From the muzzlefash of deff guns I did see
A red painted buggy, nailed on rockets flying free
Flying through the air like a deff kopta on crack
With the large figure atop it pullin on the slack

A massive green Ork in red coat and iron gob
A great Warboss, bellowing insult, not any nob
Faster than dakka jets, pulled on by the rig
by four angry, hungry, flying squigs

"On, Mangla! On Killa! Ya stupids gits!!
"On, Burna! On Rippa! I'll blast ya ta bitz!!
Get over dat wall, they can't hit worth a zog!
I ain't got all night, you cowering dog!"

As shell casing from quad guns continued to rain
He spun though the air, like a sideways hurricane,
aiming for the roof top of our base he crash land
he stepped out from the wreckage, a sack in one hand.

His boots stomped on roof, his squigs snarled and snap
the sacked was filled with shootas and choppas all in wrap.
I watched as he quiet his beasts with a massive thump
and then he was down the chimney in a single jump.

He was plated in 'eavy armor, from feet to his head
Boss pole packed with marine helmets, from chapters long dead
One hand was a oversized power klaw, which held his bag
And over it all was his red coat, which looked to be made from rag

His teef were plate in gold, his eyes red like fire
Cybork parts all flash, setting couldn't go higher.
The big shoota he carried was larger than I was
The squigs hairs on his chin white, just because

He chomped on the lit cigar wedged in his teef
Smoke filled da room, and into the floors beneath
He gave a great laugh and headed to the stockings
I didn't say a thing, I was too busy gawking

He was placing down presents while I was muckin' about
he pulled out rokkit launchas and mega blastas that I doubt
he could have in the bag, already bigger than I thought
But he still had the room for shootas for even the small grot

Pleased with his work, he turned back to me
thrusting mega armor in my arms, I fell to my knee
He pulled on the cord to a rokkit pack that strain
but with one last nod he was up the chimney again

He sprang to his buggy to his team he gave shout
And away they all flew, to complete his route
But I 'eard him exclaim, with a booming guffaw
"Merry Orkmass to all, and to all a good WAAAAAAGH!"

What do I want for Waaaaaaaaagh!mas through? From Gork I want a new Warboss kit, and from Mork I want Kommandoes with shootas!