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[i]Segmentum Tempestus, 
130.M42,
WAAAGH! 'UMIE STOMPA,
Aboard the Ork Rok 'Gork's Raff'[/i]




The skirl of the squig-pipes and the keening wails of especially loyal, and therefore protected, Gretchin echoed throughout the cavernous corridors and passageways of the Greenskin Rok – known to their friends and foes alike as [i]Gork's Raff[/i] – the procession of nearly three thousand Orks accompanying the ruined body of their former Kaptin.

It was said that Kaptin Ogmuk Marine-flayer had died during their most recent engagement against the Imperial Navy, impaled by a hundred pieces of rock, metal and shrapnel when a torpedo impacted right in front of him. There were those however, suspicious and ambitious Orks one and all, that proclaimed it aloud as some sort of assassination instead.

Now the Kaptin of the Freebooterz formerly known as 'Da Flayerz Gitz' was carried on the broad shoulders of his most loyal Nobz, the Jolly Ork draped across his colossal frame, choppas banging against the floors, walkways and stone walls of the hollowed asteroid, roars and hitting of chests showing an outpouring of emotion that many outsiders would probably think Orks were incapable of. 

Thousands of Orks from a hundred differing Tribes and Klanz, bought together by the vanquished strength of the Marine-flayer now left leaderless...without direction...and with each Nob eyeing the other warily, even as their deceased overlord was jettisoned off into the void of space.

Not long passed after this that Mugrub Whatzitface, the oldest and most sage of the Ork Weirdboyz aboard the Rok – the closest thing the Orks had to priests or holy men it seems – summoned the most valiant and above all [b]largest[/i] of the Kaptin's favoured bodyguards to the 'inner sanctum' of the [i]Raff[/i] for a meeting that would decide the course of the Freebooterz destiny



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They could not stay here forever, thought Mugrub to himself, and they could not continue using this Rok as their mode of transport. Yes, it had engines attached to it that allowed rudimentary direction and thrust, but they needed something better, something larger and more well-equipped, something that they currently did not have. 

It was what the Kaptin would have wanted...or so he thought.

The Weirdboy waited patiently, for an Ork, in the largest chamber of the floating construct – the former 'cabin' of their departed leader. It was called a cabin, but was about ten times larger, and with a ceiling that went so high that it disappeared into shadow toward the top. At the farthest end of the room was his 'throne' – a seat made from pieces of armour taken from defeated foes, their weapons scattered before it, their heads stuck on poles protruding from the stone wall behind and above it – while a circular table taken from an so-called Imperial Feudal World had been dropped right in front of it, and it was here that the future of the crew and lesser elements would be decided. There were no seats around the table, both because they had been destroyed and because the Kaptin had always thought it better for his subordinates to stand while he sat.

Mugrub himself was an Ork on the smaller side, looking more like a shrivelled piece of green leather with two red eyes than anything else, his staff of metal held in one hand and his hunched hide covered only by some flowing robes he had taken from a Cardinal of the Ecclesiarchy, and now he waited in front of the throne for the most cunning, strongest and more powerful Greenskins to assemble here.

Each one was a potential leader, but, one way or another, the wheat had to be sorted from the chaff.


[hider=Please Read]

Right then, this should be pretty self-explanatory! Get your Greenies to the Kaptin's cabin, so we can have an 'Ork election', this will most likely involve death. To be honest, even thought only the Nobz have been summoned, [b]any[/b] Ork can join the meeting if they wish - that means Boyz and Gretchin too.

Arrive how you like, bring what weapons etc that you'd like, just get here. GOT IT, YE RUNTZ.[/hider]