Leadblecher:
After much deliberation and a furstrating attempt at Undead nurgle dwarfs (let us not speak of these things), I started a techno-chaos-steampunk themed army. Much like Mad Max or the more recent Doomsday , there will be ramshackle vehicles sporting barbarian like wild men baying for blood along side traditional horsemen and foot troops! Now the background goes as fallows:
As the blood soaked into the ground, and the dead breath their last breaths, a handful of war hardened tribesmen looked around. The Storm of Chaos had lead these men under the wing of Archaon the Everchosen. The assault was glorious and the battle was ferocious, but the Gods had deemed them unworthy and Archaon had been slain and the war lost. Without their omnipresent leader, the warriors of the North turned home to fight another day.
However Skra the Butcher of Barak-Varr, Eater of the Dead, was not satisfied. He turned to his men and exclaimed “We came here for glory and riches and we will not leave without at least one. All the glory is gone. that leaves only spoils of the dead.”
As Skra’s men start looting the fallen, a small shadow catches the eye of a lookout. “Skaven!” he screams as a warpstone star whirls inches from his face.
Leadblecher:
As the Norsemen react to the would be assassin, more skaven are spotted around the site. Weary and hungry, the barbarians charge forward. “Tonight, we dine on rat-flesh!” Skra bellows as he strikes down an skaven with his trusty war ax. The battle is a short one, with hunger for vengence and the rage of defeat on their side, Skra’s troops quickly vanquish the skaven to a man… except for one.
“Bring me the one with the metal arm.” Skra commands. The skaven struggles in the grasp of his captors. “Why have you come? Why, when only a day went by we fought together? Why now have you come to kill us?”
“You are too close-close” whimpered the skaven, cowering befor the mighty war veteran “Too close to secret-secret Scry laboratorys.”
“Take me there, or be my next meal” Skra replied with a sly grin on his face.
The skaven, bound and tethered lead Skra and his band to a near by cave that was hidden only 50 paces from their old camp. " In there" the skaven squealed. “Thank you, rat-man, now you are useless except for stu” and with that utterence, Skra cleaved the rats head from his shoulders.
Inside the cave, the men saw machines like they had never seen. Two wheeled machines that were about half the size of a horse constructed of bronze and steel. A saddle sat in the middle, made of what looked to be tanned dwarf hide. There on the end sat a tiny door that looked to hold a tiny piece of Warpstone. Skra smiled to himself. He knew what these were. Iron Horses. Built like a four-gods cursed Empire Steamtank.
“I promised you riches boys, and now we have found them…”