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(Well, here's some of the fluff surrouding my current Ork army project, please leave comments on the story.)

Some considerable way from the only human city on the Feral World Proximus V, was a series of caves hidden inside of a mountain. Surrounding this mountain was thick jungle, filled with foul and violent beasts that prevented the humans of this world moving forward with their colonisation efforts.

Inside one of the caves, very close to the cave mouth, a bulge in the ground began to shake. Atop this bulge was a small group of toadstool-like fungi. They shook and swayed but did not snap as the ground beneath them vibrated. Further back in the cave, where much more of the fungus was growing, the ground was shaking also, though on a much greater scale.

Without warning, the toadstools at the front of the cave were catapulted into the air as the ground beneath them erupted in a shower of dirt, a rotund reddish beast shivering in the emptied crater of its birth, dripping with yellowish slime. It growled and barked loudly as the ground at the back of the cave began to split open, releasing more of the fat little monsters. They each looked different, some were larger than a man, all teeth and horns. others were incredibly tiny, with leathery little faces and hairs bristling over them. The strangest however were the ones which constantly seemed to dribble a black oily substance, most were no bigger than a domesticated cat.

These 'squiggly beasts' quickly dispersed, the more energetic launching themselves through the cave mouth and down the sheer drop directly outside. The smaller or more intellifent edged more carefully down the small winding pathway next to the cave's entrance. Within maybe an hour, they had spread themselves around the upper part of the mountain, more fungus was beginning to grow in many of the caves and sheltered areas on the mountain and in the jungles directly below it.

Within four days the mountain and the jungles close to the bottom were looking very different indeed. Not only was there fungus everywhere, but new creatures had emerged from the earth in the same manner as the monsters had before them. Small green humanoids with scrawny limbs, long noses, pointy ears and beady red eyes were roving around aimlessly. They were in most cases simply devoured by the larger beasts that had emerged before them, but these small greenskinned creatures were merely the advance guard. The few that remembered to go back to the places they had emerged from and got there alive organised groups to capture these beasts.

The first example of this was in an isolated stagnant pool, where a massive spiked beast with teeth that were bigger than most of the little greenskins, was eating a less fortunate member of its own breed. The little green aliens gathered in a big smelly huddle behind a rock not far from the animal, chattering in some odd language. They'd taken to wearing little bits of animal skin around their bodies to keep warm and act as protection now. One of the group, huddled in a massive swathe of what was probably rabbit fur clambered to the top of the boulder weilding a long sharp piece of flint and with a squeaky warcry hurled it at the monster. The animal ignored the attack, though it did turn for a split second to see what had hit it.

The little alien seemed surprised at the animal's lack of reaction and screamed a sound that could only be described as 'Waagh!'.
With that signal the entire little swarm of creatures emerged from their hiding spot, converging fairly quietly on the monster. Something seemed to be slowly emerging from the huddle as they got closer, it was a roughly made net, twisted together out of vines and other bits of garbage. This was hurled over the animal and the aliens hurried to peg down the corners of the net. The beast roared in anger and confusion, but could not move as the tiny and very stiff net was forced down over it. before long the beast had given up, and merely sat still, watching the activities of the greenskins around it. Eventually a few of them clambered into the net with a collection of stones and sharp sticks. They slwoly made their way to the monster's head and clung onto the eyebrow ridges.

One grinned and thrust his pointed stick into the animal's right eye, purplish blood oozing from the wound. the beast erupted into a fury once again, but by the time it was upright both its eyes were fully blinded.

About an hour later the little creatures were happily building small tents from the hide of the beast, its bones being used as weapons or being heaped onto a pile with some unknown purpose. Yet more greenish fungus was growing now. The greenskinned creatures wouldn't be enjoying themselves for much longer.

(And that's the end of the first part of the story.)

(And here's part 2.)

Four days later little shanty towns had sprung up all over the mountainside. What had initially started out as camping spots for the little green creatures were now fully-fledged settlements for what looked like much larger versions of the small greenskins. These ones were still small compared to a human, but much larger than their little predecessors.

The small ones were referred to as 'Snotz' or 'Snotlings' by the larger greenskins, who called themselves 'Gretchin'. The Gretchin had emerged from the ground like the beasts and Snotlings before them, and taken over the pathetic efforts the Snotlings had made at building a society. They were much more efficient, being able to utilise larger and slightly heavier materials, and using their greater intelligence to devise new plans for construction. What had been a little collection of bone-and-hide huts and squig holding-pens had now become a maze of small tents and heaps of junk they didn't have a use for... yet.

High up in the cave where the squigs had first emerged was a single small cluster of green toadstools, at the very back of the cave, where it was damp, hot, and very dark. The ground began to pulsate and shake for a moment, then it stopped abruptly. A group of brave Gretchin explorers had ventured up here to seek their Gods. The Gretchin had yet to discover that their world did extend beyong the visible horizon, and thus believed their gods Gork and Mork were hiding somewhere up near the mountain's peak. The first of the group to clamber over had boldly grafted the scalps of several hairy squigs onto his head, leaving a tangled mess of bedraggled red hair wafting in the light breeze as he flung himself into the cave.

His erstwhile comrades soon followed suit, clinging to the soft warm ground. The leader suddenly noticed out of the corner of his little red eye, that a small cluster of fungi was growing up here. The Gretchin walked over and picked one, stuffing it happily into his mouth and relishing the taste, it was much like squig meat, but more earthy. Suddenly the ground burst open, a massive green hand pushin up through the dirt. It gripped the Gretchin's neck and raised him up high as the hand's owner rose up from his fungal womb. The owner of the hand was as tall as a man and half as tall again, he had a small nose pushed back into his face, a small head and a massive chin and wide jaws.

The huddle of explorers cowered in fear as their choking leader rasped out the words:

'Are you Gork, or Mork?' The hulking green monstrosity grinned and dropped the Gretchin to the floor. His lips curled back, revealing thick yellow-white fangs. His massive jaws parted and he spoke.

'I Toofsnik. And you iz all Grotz, any questchuns?'

The group shook their heads and lead the massive being back to their settlement, hoping that the newborn Ork would trip along the way and tumble off a cliff or fall into a squig-pen lower down the mountain. Sadly for them, it was not to be. Toofsnik bullied the little greenskins into constructing a throne for him, made of bones. Eventually this they did for him. After that he ordered them to make a weapon for him. Again, this they did.

The last command he gave that day was for them to bring him a pet squig...

They made sure to give him the meanest squig they could find. An albino runt by comparison to other fighting squigs, this one had a mean streak two lightyears wide, and small spines coating its back like studded armor. They hoped it would kill the Ork at some point, but after a whole day, it had become quite attached to the Ork chief. This puzzled the Gretchin, but also made them incredibly unhappy. They could not hope to kill this giant who ruled over them, and they would soon realise that more of his kind were on the way...

Within two months the Orks were now the dominant aspect of the greenskin culture. Most of the squigs were now held in pens instead of roaming free, and they were quickly making progress with their first true war effort. Their weapons were simple flint and wood spears, heavy clubs, and other hand-to-hand weapons. Some Gretchin had taken to using bows, but most of the Orks found them too fiddly to use. The real reason was that they lacked the skill required to hit a target with the bow.

The enemy they were preparing to fight was a group of Orks who lived at the bottom of the mountain. All the Orks knew about them was that they'd been there since last thursday. The truth was that they had sprung up around the same time as the mountain Orks, and, like them, had only just begun to explore beyond their home environment. However, the advantage was clearly held by the Orks in the jungles, as they had wood more readily available to them, and a wide array of beasts that could be tamed as mounts or set loose upon the mountain Orks.

Toofsnik had become massive by this time, both taller and wider than any other Ork in their camp. His skin was completely unscarred however, just smooth and moss green. That would change, he instinctively knew, war was in his blood, in the blood of all greenskins. Well, Orks at least. He heafted his latest weapon, a massive club studded with pointed rocks and splintered bones. This would do a lot of damage in the hands of one as large and muscular as Toofsnik, even against some vehicles. Toofsnik had other things on his puny mind right now besides war, however, a leader of one of the distinct mobs in their camp, Graggoff, was beginning to show signs of increased muscle growth. Through the remarkable amount of knowledge Orks are gifted with in their genes, Toofsnik knew this meant Graggoff was getting ready to challenge him for leadership.

Toofsnik knew however that he needed the upstart Ork for the coming battles, hopefully he'd get killed at some point in the battle though, then Toofsnik wouldn't have to deal with the Zogger. Graggoff was currently swinging his club wildly at a dummy made of squig-hide and stuffed with grass. Toofsnik grinned at the foolhardy Graggoff, as if beating up a dummy could compare to fighting the Orks in the jungles below. Graggoff had never beaten up anything that could fight back and win before, he and the rest of the Orks were about to learn about combat the hard way.

A dat later the ragtag hordes were moving down the mountain and up through the jungle to the thin band of scrub that surrounded the mountain's very foot. Toofsnik stood at the head of his lads, while the jungle Orks were led by a similarly large and powerful Ork. The two snarled and then both sides erupted into a frenzied warcry of:

'WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!'

The two sides ran towards eachother, the sound of them running was loud enough, but when their lines met, the sound suddenly became ten times greater. there were thuds, crunches, and other nasty sounds. Graggoff leapt forward and smacked an Ork in the face with his club and laughed as the smaller Ork collapsed. This cost him dearly as an enemy Ork hurled an attack squig at him. The small creature immediately began biting at Graggoff's face, he howled in pain as it ripped away at his forehead and cheeks. By the time he'd gotten the thing off, another enemy Ork was standing ready with a massive chunk of stone hammered into a piece of wood.

The jungle Ork swung high, aiming for the bigger Ork's head. Graggoff ducked and swung mid-height with his club, crushing his foe's internal organs and smashing apart ribs. The other Ork grunted in pain and keeled over. Graggoff rose up and yelled his own warcry just as a massive shard of flint was hurled at his face, digging deep into his skull and splitting his head in two. Toofsnik turned to see his second-in command's demise, he then looked to the one who'd caused it, it was the enemy boss.

The two met, howling at the top of their lungs, in the center of the battlefield. The clamour was terrible as the two smashed skulls, banging weapons together and swinging their clubs wildly, only managing to hit other Orks who were nearby. Each of them was made for war, the toughest and most skilled of their kind, but now one would stand, the other would fall. After almost ten minutes of constant battle, the final blow was struck.

Toofsnik brought his club up, knocking aside the other boss' club and exposing his body. The club ripped apart the front of the jungle ork's stomach and chest, and then embedded one of its long spikes in the Ork's head. As his enemy's eyes rolled back in his head, Toofsnik yanked his club free and spun, smashing a smaller jungle ork flat into the ground. With a roar that could be heard over the din of battle, Toofsnik declared his victory.

Maybe two months later, Toofsnik had control of the jungles around the mountain and the mountain itself. They had started building simple machines such as chariots, they had also started to make use of metalworking to fashion crude weapons and tools for themselves. It wouldn't be much longer before they located the surveillance outpost that the humans had set up at the edges of the jungle. In fact, it only took them two days to find it.

When they did, the first thing they noticed were four pink-orange faces staring at them in disbelief from a window in the house-sized structure. The second thing they noticed was that a cluster of tubes were turning around on the top of the building to face them. the third thing they noticed was that the little red lines that came out of the tubes really hurt.

However, Toofsnik was already up at the access hatch of the outpost, and with three swings of his massive club, he had ripped the door down and was inside. The men screamed in terror as the huge green beast disembowelled them one by one. The last man tried to fight back with a chair, but only earned the anger of Toofsnik, who proceeded to throw the man through an observation window into the mob of Orks below. Toofsnik saw some kind of microphone, and realised here could hear panicked voices speaking in a strange language. he leaned down towards the console and screamed at the microphone, making sure those at the recieving end could hear him:

'Waaagh!'

That single warcry could have been the biggest mistake of Toofsnik's life...

Two weeks later even the greenskins in their isolated little commune saw and heard the troop carriers descending. Hundreds of Imperial Guardsmen emerged from the flotilla of ships that had landed. They had come in response to a call for aid. They had come to kill the greenskins.

Toofsnik and his boyz knew this, and had made plans to find and kill the other humans on the planet some time ago. They had spied out the human city and made ready in their jungles to attack it under cover of darkness. Chariots were constructed, insectoid monsters were shackled to them, and mighty cleavers were forged.

So, one night, while the medieval-stage peasants of the city slept, and the Guardsmen rested up for the great purge tomorrow, they attacked. Toofsnik had taken for himself what looked like a crude double-bladed axe and a chariot pulled by a massive enraged scorpion-like beast. They quietly emerged from their forest and crossed dry prairies, moving quickly towards the masonry buildings of the city.

The first point of call was the garrison where the Guardsmen were sleeping. The orks killed as many as possible before their presence was made apparent to all. bells rang out across the city and slowly the town militia began to form, the Guardsmen having been cut down in their sleep.

Eventually the battle was won, the Orks now occupied the city, but they were blissfully unaware of the fleet now moving into position high above them. They were going to sterilise the wound, completely wipe the city and the Orks out of existence.

Toofsnik had his lads loot a whole range of equipment, mostly unused due to the Orks' surprise attack, and lug it into underground storage until the rest of the Orks were moved in and they could start working of this array of new equipment.

Toofsnik himself had re-entered the Cathedral of the Emperor in the center of the city. He stared up in what was the Orky equivalent of awe at a massive bronze statue of a human wearing a huge baroque suit of armour. One of Toofsnik's best Nobs turned to Toofsnik.

'What's 'dis all about, boss?' He looked puzzled, and while waiting for an answer, his eyes wandered to the rest of the Cathedral's trappings.
'Dis means dere's more o' dem pink-skins out dere than I thought.'

He looked up at the stern expression of the armoured figure and stepped forward, raising his axe. He roared and hurled it at the statue, splitting the axe into many fragments as the singing chunk of metal collided with the head of the statue. The face was horribly disfigured now, the head looked as though it had been wrenched back by a massive hand.

The Nob blinked for a second, then noticed something at the foot of the statue, a large door made of iron. He stepped forward and raised it. Toofsnik followed him and the two descended into the massive winding catacombs below the Cathedral. Eventually other Orks went looking for Toofsnik and found themselves lost below in the tunnels, the dark was no obstacle for them, but they had a little trouble finding their way back once they were done looking around.

As the many groups of greenskins moved into the underground catacombs of the city, the bombardment commenced.

It started with a few explosion some way off from the city, merely impacting on the scrubland and leaving small clouds of fire and smoke here an there. But soon many were falling like a rain of fire, and they were getting closer to the city. When they started to hit, they shattered buildings, melted concrete, disintegrated the little wooden shacks that were strewn about, and completely obliterated the evidence of not only the battle, but also that the city was inhabited only a short time ago.

Toofsnik and the others heard and felt the rumble of doom in their little tunnels, but they were seemingly unharmed, there were a few cave-ins, but mostly those underground survived.

A week later the greenskins who had been lucky enough to escape oblivion resurfaced from under the carpet of ash. Here and there signs could be found of dead greenskins and the humans who had come before the fire, but you only recognised them if you knew what to look for.

Toofsnik and his sole surviving Nob exchanged glances and then Toofsnik spoke words which were remembered by that Nob and retold for generations amongst those who followed Toofsnik:

'Da 'Umies are gonna' wish we'd never been born. We's gonna' stomp their soldiers, blow up dere houses, and burn dere cities. And den we's gonna do the same to any other git wot wants to try for us.'

Which is the longest quote any of Toofsnik's tribe ever remembered.

After this Toofsnik's tribe learned how to use human weapons, make their own, build vehicles, and eventually they got into space via a Space Hulk. It seemed that contact with the more advanced humans had triggered a spurt of technological innovations on the orks' part.

They embarked upon a small-scale Waagh which would last until Toofsnik's first defeat, at the hands of the Second Company of the Storm Reavers Space Marine Chapter.

But that is another tale, for another time.

Great story. You have a way with words. Even when it's ork-speech. I'm looking forward to many more of your stories.

Heh, I don't like this much, definitely not my best work. it's not very descriptive as I just wanted to convey the history of my ork army and how they ended up where they are now.

I'm gonna' do one based on my SM army later, it's not a new army, as I've had the models for ages, but I'm finally set on a background and colour scheme. I haven't got many models right now though But the story about the Storm Reavers is going to be a lot more descriptive, and there won't be any random time-skips to get to the next important event, it's something that bugs me about writing, but I find I occasionally have to do it.