Clan Scurvius - Greeting-honours and Welcomes.

[Primarch]

Lord Scurvius was sick. They had been at sea for nearly a week now. The constant rolling of the ship and torrential rain had robbed him of his appetite. In the last couple of days he had eaten only 2 cows and a sheep. Once he got back to the clan lair, he would never, ever so much as go near a stream ever again.

The whole trip had been the idea of Seer Nezumindus and Scurvius was sure it was an elaborate plot to undermine his leadership and take control of the clan. Nezumindus had suggested the trip as a way to calm his nerves after his brief stint in an Ogre prison. "The wave-tide will be sooth-peaceful and the fresh-clean air will aid-help your recovery," he had said. Everything had gone wrong right from the start. The Hellpit Abomination had gotten seasick on the first day and then fallen over the side and drowned as it hurled up it's guts. The slaves had taken to singing some awful shantys and they had hit a storm on the first night out from port. "How much bad-worse can things get?" mused Scurvius.

Just then one of the ship's crew burst into his chambers. "Respect-greetings honoured captain-lord. The crewman in the rat's nest reports seeing Dwarves on the shore nearby."
Scurvius jumped up. "Dwarves?"
"Yes-yes. Dwarves."
Sweeping up his halberd, Scurvius dashed out onto the deck. "Run out the guns, ready the away team, full steam ahead, trim the yardarm." He was a blur of motion as he rattled out orders to the crew. Leaping atop the aftcastle, he looked out over the deck to see all of the crew standing motionless, staring at him. With a sigh he flicked his paw in the direction of the coastline. "Attack" he mumbled.
With a squeak of delight, the crew sprang into action...

[job]

Eat hot lead, furballs!