Flint Ironstag - Chaos Dwarf of Khorne - DaMoonRulz | Critical Failures in the Chaos Wastes

Flint Ironstag - Chaos Dwarf of Khorne - DaMoonRulz

Description:

M7 WS3 BS- S5 T5 W3 I2 A2 Ld10 Int2 Cl10 WP10

Mark of Khorne:
A new champion of Khorne recieves a suit of Chaos Armour from his patron. Chaos armour grants a 4+ saving throw which is effective against even magic weapons and spells.

Chaos Attribute – Levitation
The mutant may levitate at will. Add two to the mutant’s fear points when it does so, reflecting the uncanny nature of this ability. 6 levitation points which are spent as follows and recovered by meditation/rest:

Rise 2 yards – 1
Fall 6 yards – Free
Each 6 yard fall thereafter – 2
Move horizonatally 2 yards – 3
Remain stationary above the ground – 1

Chaos Gift – Daemonic Steed
The Champion is gifted with a Daemonic Steed to ride in to battle.

Juggernauts (also known as the Feet of Khorne, Blights of Khorne or Juggers) are the steeds of Khorne. They are massive Daemons of Chaos cloaked in sheets of steel and brass instead of flesh. Half-daemon, half-enchanted steel and sinew they stand taller than a man with blood of liquid fire. Juggernauts are ridden into battle by powerful mortal and daemonic minions of Khorne, for only those possessed of exceptional willpower can hope to cotnrol such a raging beast. They are also creatures that pull the ‘Blood Chariots of Khorne’ into battle. Juggernauts, simply put, are pure killing machines with little intelligence, just the raw instinct of combat.

5 Beastmen
These standard type beastmen use hand weapons and carry a mixture of armour and shields giving them a 6+ save.

Horrible Stench:
Members of the unit are tainted with a terrible stench and many smell appalling. All within D12 yards of the unit are subject to a -1 penalty to hit. The unti is used to its own peculiar and unpleasant smell and is immune to the effect.

Bio:

As a young Dwarf, Flint Ironstag had it pretty rough. He was smaller and weaker than all his peers, and though he strove to prove himself in the art of combat, Flint lacked the martial prowess needed to win a duel. After years of ridicule and disappointment Flint left his home swearing to take up the mantle of a Slayer and die in a manner that ensured his name was associated with an act of valor in combat worthy of the greatest Dwarves. While stopped in a human town and after a couple barrel-fuls of ale Flint stumbled drunkenly into a tattoo parlor. The next morning the Slayer awoke with the usual pounding headache that accompanied a night of drinking to forget; he set out on the road heading north for a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The tattoos on his back were stinging badly and he scolded himself for going to such a seedy shoppe.

The next day when he awoke the headache was still present but the feel of being pricked by countless needles on his back had been replaced a burning sensation. Flint made a mental note to purchase a healing salve in the next town he came upon, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of combat. Racing ahead, he came upon a scene of carnage: bandits were attacking a lone wagon on the road, possibly a merchant wagon. The Slayer rushed headlong into the fray and for the first time in days his headache seemed to subside. He fought with a ferocity he’d never felt before and the burning sensation on his back turned to a soothing warmth. With the brigands disposed of or running for their lives, the survivors of the attack approached to give thanks to their savior.

The Slayer fought to focus as the headache and burning sensation returned with a vengeance. Flint fell to his hands and knees, struggling to deal with the pain, and the few humans let out a collective gasp. Signs were made to ward themselves as they started to run away, but before he knew what he was doing, the Dwarf was upon them beating them savagely to their deaths. Flint Ironstag continued north with an urgency he hadn’t felt before, engaging in combat at every opportunity trying to ease the pain he felt. Flint stumbled upon a beastman encampment, but before he could attack he was approached by a number of them each carrying a piece of armor. As he donned a helm with a red crest, reminiscent of a Slayer’s hair, everything began to feel right with the world. The beastmen followed Flint on his journey north and aided in the spilling of blood whenever the opportunity presented itself.