This will be the continuesly updated thread for my personal lil' WAAAGH, the WAAAGH of Nazzruk Morkboss da Facepuncha, and his exploits on and around the contested world of Pax Aquilarum. This faction is a part of a larger setting set in the "Crusade for Pax Aquilarum", a large community-based setting including such other factions as the McGroy Rogue Trader Dynasty (http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/672269.page) by cikkirock.
The Waaagh Facepuncha.
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"I's funny - Ya 'ave a look at all dese Boyz 'avin' a proppa scrap an' bein' real jolly 'bout it, an' rememb'rin' dat all it took ta get us 'ere was a broken jaw, a bit o' kunnin' an' a 'ole lot o' detahmination. Now dat's just proppa Orky, dat is."
~~ ~ Creditted to Skarboy Skuglug, recorded and published by Mekboy Zapp'Ead.
While Pax Aquilarum is generally considered to be a heavily contested, previously Imperial World, the truth of the matter is that the planet is almost fully claimed by the Orks of Waaagh Facepuncha. From the frosty glaciers of the Dornish Mountains to the Shredding Expands, you can be sure to find Ork tribes and warbands everywhere. Many a general competing for control of the planet argues that the Orks are merely an envoirmental hazard, akin to wild beasts and roaming raiders, few of them will let it be clear that the Orks are giving them all issues on an almost weekly basis. Roaming bands of Orks, ranging from average pillagers and Boyz looking for a bit of sport, to Mek Mobs looking to find new equipment to loot and Kults of Speed generally being a nuicance, are constantly assailing anyone from the engmatic Biel-Tan Eldar to the local Pax Populi militia. Some commanders brush the assaults off as smaller problems which younglings and bored soldiers deal with, while others assure their people that the Ork threat is diminishing, but they all feel the weight of the constant, enthusiastic greenskins attacking them, hurling themselves at barricades and gun emplacements alike in lighthearted glee.
But far from the mainland, out in the outskirts of Huron Bay lies a fleet of ramshackle sea vessels brimming with Flakka-Dakka-guns, Kannons and Shootas, centered around a massive hangar ship. "Da Toof o' Grim Gumbo", or simply "Da Toof" in common speech, is the main base of operations of the Waaagh. Named after a particularly ornery old Squiggoth, who's tusks were removed to calm her down and brandished on the front of the ship, the massive machine gives off another feel than the Orks on the mainland. Unlike the unsupervised warbands roaming the wastes, this is a carefully managed military operations center, and on the top of the command tower roams Warboss Nazzruk Ug Dreg Morkboss, or simply Nazzruk da Facepuncha. Rarely making his appearance known on the mainland, and even more rarely announcing it, Nazzruk is a difficult beast to strategize around for the commanders of Pax. Seclusive, secretive, but brutally cunning and extremely brutal when he need to be, Nazzruk is always on the move, either planning with his many agents around the Waaagh or helping with a particular task around the fleet or on the mainland. This personal intervention, with a helping of Orkish cunning, has made Nazzruk an esteemed Warboss in record time.
What Nazzruk plans are, knows only the Ork himself, but no one fools themselves thinking that such a peculiar Warboss would do all this for sport. Occasionally, when Ork raids seem less frequent and nothing have been heard from any spies or scouts in heavily Ork-infested areas, Nazzruk himself, or his Boss Nob Rokface, will appear as out thin air at a flank unthought off by the strategists of the defenders, striking through the defences like a lightning bolt with a massive mob, wreck havoc and brutally beat down any attempted offense, and as fast as the storm arose, the leader of the mob will have dissappeared, leaving behind the mob itself to fight for jollies in many weeks to come. Sometimes, a soldier will lament the loss of a specific item, or a previously forgotten relic within the defensive positions will be gone. What are they for? What might they built? Only Nazzruk knows. And he isn't telling.
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Characters.
Warboss Nazzruk Facepuncha.
The peculiar Warboss of Waaagh Facepuncha, Nazzruk is an exceptionally gifted and skilled Ork, with a penchant from misdirection, lightning strikes and subterfuge. Nazzruk is as large as any Warboss, but somehow his size does not seem as massive as some of the more brutish Warbosses do. Warriors who have met him in battle often describe him as "terrifying", citing that they felt that they were mere pawns as they stood before the hulk. While he wasn't frightening in the traditional sense, or so brutal that it shook them to bone, something about the almost constant cold demeanour of the Ork carried the message that he wasn't at that particular battlefield to fight a pointless battle; more than anything, his "drive" in combat is cited as even worse than his brutal attacks with his favourite Choppa, "Da Shiv", or his reality-ripping rips with the custom Power Klaw "Da Kan-Openah" - Something about his methodical destruction of his foes and his constant burning glare has made him no less than a devil to forces around the planet, a story you tell fresh recruits to properly scare them. Only this particular scare-story isn't a folktale - It's very much real.
How does an Ork become such a cold beast? Nazzruk himself never told the story, but many of the older Nobz and Skarboyz quietly tell the story when trying to impress the Yoofs of the Waaagh, while hoping that might keep them from making the mistake of crossing Nazzruk. Once, Nazzruk was an ordinary Nob, fighting as a part of an now unnamed Warboss' retinue, on the waste-plains of Armaggedon, as a part of the great Ghazzkhul Mag Uruk Thrakka's war machine. However, he was never the blood hungry bezerker his fellow Nobs were, and was bored out of his thick skull fighting endless wars, of which he could never see the point. He looked to the stars, dreaming of maybe one day conquering one of them for himself, finding treasures beyond belief and gathering his own mob. He always strattled in the back of the mob, and volunteered to take less favourable jobs, such as managing the Mek guilds, overlooking Grots or helping pushing metal for the building of Stompas.
One day, while sacking the civilian areas of a previously breached Hive City, Nazzruk decided to break off from his mob, and go exploring the great architecture of the city. While the screams of innocents rung through the halls, Nazzruk felt more lost than ever, simply wandering around, hoping to maybe get lost somewhere,so the mob would never find him again. As he walked around, he suddenly stumpled upon a large building, which caught his interest: Within the dark main room of the decorated building were lines upon lines of shelves, not filled with boxes or ammunition, but with weird collections of wood and paper. He explored the shop for a long time, opening and closing the artifacts, studying the weird, small black spots set in small, neat lines on every page. In the back of the store, he found something even stranger; a servitor, still active, sitting and awaiting commands. "What can I recite for you today?" it asked with a generic smile, and Nazzruk answered. No story tells of what the beast and the slave talked about, but as far as the story goes, Nazzruk was found hours later, sitting like a child ready to learn, trying to talk to the servitor, who's batteries had run out. When he took back to the camp, he brought three backs of the artefacts, alongside the servitor, and whenever he went on a raid, Nazzruk returned with more. All his waking hours was dedicated to studying what he found.
This was when Nazzruk came in contact with the Mek Zapp'ead. Nazzruk's servitor had lost his last energy support, and needed a fix-up, of which the Mek Guild happily gave him for his support of their odd ways. Zapp'ead came to Nazzruk's camp to fix the servitor, and became curious enought to ask to the Nob what it all was about, and Nazzruk, sensing a fellow Ork with dreams of something more, parted with his secrets, and what he had learned about the galaxy. They talked for a long time, enjoying somewhat gifted company for once, until Zapp'ead unthinking asked: "So why'z ya still 'ere? Shudn't ya be goin' to da stars an' do great fings wiff all dat 'nowledj o' 'urs?". Nazzruk looked dumbfounded at Zapp'ead for a whole five seconds without pause, and then smirked with a cold smile and burning eyes, as he'd be known to do in the future. At that moment, Zapp'ead and Nazzruk had made an accord, and soon a plan was set in motion, as more and more participants became involved. Something big was coming.
Soon, Nazzruk rose aggressively in power in the warband. Raid upon raid was helped by his sound strategic advice and expansive knowledge on human nature, and it didn't take long before he challenged his Boss Nob to a duel, which he won. With Nazzruk leading the Nobz, the mob where more effective than they had ever been, but there was much dissent among the Orks of the warband, who thought his ways to be "un-Orky" and plain weird. It would come to no surprise for anyone that Nazzruk went from unpopularity to outright ridicule when he challenged his Warboss to a duel - Without any weapons or armour, Ork on Ork, bare fists. Nazzruk lost the battle, badly. But it did not stop him; on the contruary, he tried several times, failing again and again. Then, he stopped. Most though he had finally got beaten some sense into him, and that he now knew his place.
Then, one day, months later, Nazzruk challenged the Warboss again. The camp was roaring with excitement, waiting to see Nazzruk pummeled again, as he had been so many times, but something was different about the Boss Nob; he seemed cold, driven, but utterly frightening to such an extend that all the Boyz watching went silent as he walked into the arena with bare torso and his burning glare. The Screecher Squig howled to signal the battle's start, and the lumbering Warboss thundered towards Nazzruk, ready to smash him into the dirt in one hit. With a cheeky grin, the Warboss slugged at him, but hit nothing but air. He managed to change his expression halfway to dumbfounded surprise, before Nazzruk's right fist rammed into the Warboss' jaw, hurling him backwards, before slowly falling face first into the dirt, unconcious, with six less teeth and a pool of blood gathering below his cracked jaw. There was no victory howl from anyone; not Nazzruk nor the audience. With a wild, yet retained glare, Nazzruk looked upon the Boyz looking at the him standing with blood on his fist, before uttering with a wrathful and vengeful voice: "Anyone else wanna 'ave a go?". No one did. Nazzruk da Facepuncha was born.
Less than a month later, Warboss Nazzruk had collected most of the warband, lead by his own retinue of helpers and advicers, who had helped him to the position, and, as it was planned, teleported off the planet and into a Space Hulk many lightyears from Armaggedon, spotted by his Weirdboyz, led by the wrily Ol' Zog, a masterful but farely weak Warp'ead. Before Ghazzkhul could catch wind of the warband leaving, they were already aboard the smaller Space Hulk Red Redemption, an old, Great Crusade-era Blood Angels Strike Cruiser. To this day, the mention of Nazzruk on Armaggedon will leave to tirades and rants, and on the Redemption, mentioning the Warboss, convienintly left alone with five Grots and a Painboy to try and fix his face back on Armaggedon, would get the offending Ork a free trip out the airlock.
After many an adventure, Ol' Zog had found exactly the gem of a planet that Nazzruk had waited for: Pax Aquilarum Prime, an abandoned Garden Planet with a mysterious backstory. Nazzruk started the next phase of his great venture, and soon after, the Space Hulk crashed into the ocean of the planet, launching tsunamies and tremors across the planet. The metal that was the Space Hulk was soon repurposed to fleets upon fleets of battleships, and the population of Orks rose as more and more factions arived on the planet to contest it. And the rest, as they say, is history.
It could be argued that Nazzruk Ug Dreg Morkboss Facepuncha has finally found his niché, and gotten what he had worked so hard to create, but if anything, Nazzruk's
raw determination and ruthless drive to make his wishes become reality has increased tenfold since planetfall. As a devil of the growing power of the greenskins on the planet, Nazzruk is strengthened, toughened and quickened with every Ork added to his Mobs, and there's no sign of him stopping any time soon. Of anything, the most frightening thing about Nazzruk isn't his indominable strength of will or his drive, but rather that no one, even his own Waaagh, knows to what end he works. For how can you hope to stop something who's motives are non-existant?
