Back to Nuke it from Orbit
It's no secret that I've never been a big Games Workshop fan. But I'm also a notorious skinflint, and have never been slow to snap up a good deal. When GW discontinued its Epic 6mm sci-fi line, many players turned to eBay to rid themselves of lead and plastic (mostly plastic) that had once represented huge investments of time and money, but in the stroke of a pen become "not officially sanctioned." Secondhand prices plummeted. Never intending to use Epic rules to begin with, I was more than happy to relieve them of their burdens.
The orcs shown come from several purchases, with paint jobs ranging from "good" to "wtf?" If you know orcs, you will understand that it was no end of trouble getting them into formation long enough to snap a few pictures. Even so, careful observers will be able to pick out a few squads out of formation, out of uniform, and/or out of their minds.
The buildings are Ground Zero Games modular structures and an Armorcast modular refinery.
- Vynnie
| A band of infantry Boyz, with Stormboyz in the foreground and a pack of snotlings bringing up the rear. |  |
| More Boyz, with the Evil Sun proudly displayed |  |
| A smaller squad of Boyz, backed up by some of the largest infantry weapons in known space. Like carrying a Volkswagen on your shoulder. How do they lift those things? Are they cardboard? Or only for low gravity worlds? |  |
| The next band of Boyz show off a prodigious array of heavy infantry lazguns. |  |
In the foreground, snakebite Boyz, who charge machine-gun nests armed like 12th Century Vikings. Well, nobody from the last war thought it was a bad idea. Come to think of it, nobody from the last war came back alive. Ah, well - snakebites, Waaaargh! In the background, the Orky answer to socialized mental health services. "Here's a gun. There's a battlefield. Go play!" |
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| Here we have PoorBoyz. No, they're not a sandwich. They were just too poor to afford much paint ... . |  |
| This season's fashion phenomenon: warbosses resplendant in the two-flag kit. The uniform that verily screams: "Snipers! Shoot me!!" |  |
| "Who sez we're yeller!?" |  |
| This squad has a bad reputation with hand grenades (notice the smoking boots in formation). But they sure do love flags. Any and all flags, no matter what's on them, these guys will wave 'em with gusto. Kind of like a teenager at his first political rally. |  |
| Here we have the band of misfits that a human army would have left back at base. But in the Orky Waaaaagh, these are front-line troops. Sometimes even special forces. |  |
In Earth's WWI, German soldiers removed the 6" spike from the tops of their helmets so they would be less visible when peering over the top of a trench. But to an orc, a 2-meter flag is much better than a 6" spike ... . And to the left we have a forest of shoulder-mounted repeating anti-tank guns. Seriously - if Orks can carry this much on their shoulders, why do they even bother building armored vehicles? |
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| More lasgun troops, resplendant with polished silver weapons. Silver is good because it gleams in the sunlight, making sure enemy recon drones spot your position. Which makes the enemy attack you. Which means more battle, more glory, more Waaaaagh!! |  |
| Even the rifleboyz recruits of this band get to parade around in smart-looking silver. |  |
| Mighty squiggoths, all trimmed out to lumber across the battlefield, bearing fortresses of (except for the shingle roofs) impenetrable steel ... unless someone shoots them in the head with an elephant gun ... nah, forget it. Waaaaagh! |  |
Alright. OK. We've armored the head now. Knees? Damn! No fair! Waaaagh! |
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| Ork battlewagons, with mighty guns for shooting the humies full of holes. Mighty saws for cutting through brush and trees. (Just for kicks. Orks love wrecking the environment.) And mighty claws, capable of picking up an Imperial dreadnought and holding it meters off the ground, so the commander can pop his head out of the hatch and yell "Pbtttttthh! Waaaaaagh!" |  |
| In dreadnoughts and stompas, we see icons of the great Ork gods Gork and Mork. Those of the sharp right hand, that cuts the cowardly away from the brave. Of the fell left hand that blows away your doubts and fears. Of the belly-gun that bends you over the fence-rail and ... well, that's enough of Ork theology for one day. |  |
| Either an overgrown mobile steam boiler, or another battlewagon. |  |
| These front-spikes have no known use except for in the deadly parking-space battles at the Ork motor pool. |  |
| A soldier unfortunate enough to be run over by a tank is written off as a casualty without much doubt. But these orcs wanted to be extra sure. |  |
| Warbuggies of the Kult of Speed. The red ones go faster! |  |
| Official pacecars and Steamrollers of the Kult of Speed. |  |
Big-wheel dune-buggies of the Kult of Speed, backed up by stationary-emplacement beam weapons that fire at the Speed of Light. The red light goes faster. |
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| Special and heavy weapons to keep the warband out of trouble. Three battlewagons sport multi-barrel anti-aircraft guns. One shot launchers prepare big, fat smileybombs for launch. Braincrushas stand ready to disorient their crews with recoil shock. An imposing battle-fortress lumbers across the landscape, protected from plunging fire by a formidable wooden shake roof! (Complete with dual tarpaper and felt/asphalt waterproofing, forty-year cert, and heavy gauge mesh to repel rodents and nesting birds.) |  |
| A captured and repainted Rhino sits next to a Lifta-Droppa array. And in the background - a deadly biplane, to go up against the Imperium's supersonic suborbital craft. |  |
| More dreadnoughts, designed as receptacles for the souls of orks that lived to an age of great wisdom among their kind. Like, twelve or fourteen. |  |
| Gangs of Ork outlaw bikers get ready to put their spikes down on some humie's a$$. |  |
| And in the Ork army, even go-karts are acceptable mobile cavalry. |  |
| An Ork engineering vehicle stands ready to stick back all the parts that fall off. And repair vehicles, too. Orks never developed the separate discipline of "medicine." |  |
| A mekboy gargant stands ready to either fix or destroy the next thing it sees. Or both. |  |
| Great Gargant: Hull of steel, eyes of Gork, and belly-gun the size of ... no, no more theology. Forget it. |  |
| The green mega-gargant towers over the battlefield, magnet for every kind of incoming fire imaginable. |  |
| The red mega-gargant even sports a wierdboy tower among its top rigging. With enough psychic input, the wierdboy is capable of destroying the entire gargant without the enemy having to fire a shot. |  |
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