Armies of the Jungle: Fearful Symmetry

In this series, we showcase armies used by your humble Jungle Guides. By detailing how the army was collected, how the background and color schemes were developed, and how the army is used on the battlefield, we hope that this series will provide inspiration for those interested in collecting similar armies.

In the chilly dark just before dawn, Shamshir Talatra—accompanied, as always, by Panja, the Vedic Great Tyger—surveyed his army.  Once again, the Scepter of Shiva, a holy relic in the form of a curved sword, had done its work well, summoning scores of the fearsome rakshasas, greater and lesser, to the material world.

Tiger-headed humanoids from Lankapura, a realm outside of time and space, the rakshasas had terrorized and preyed upon the humans of Veda ever since it was settled, before the Age of Strife.  But no longer.  Now, they served Shamshir.

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Armies of the Jungle: Kult of Speed

by Patrick Eibel

The Jungle is turning 20 years old, and we’re celebrating! Come back every day from February 2 through February 8 for new material! 

In this series, we showcase armies used by your humble Jungle Guides. By detailing how the army was collected, how the background and color schemes were developed, and how the army is used on the battlefield, we hope that this series will provide inspiration for those interested in collecting similar armies.

The Drukhari struck as the line of Ork ramshackle vehicles entered the canyon, dark lances firing beams of energy blacker than the night, the splinter weapons of the Hellions and Scourges bringing down an entire mob of Ork Bikers.

If the Dark Eldar thought that the Greenskins could be cowed by an impressive opening volley, they were sure to be mistaken.  “Oi!” Speedo bellowed, pointing into the darkness where their enemies lurked.  “Da fun’s not ovah, ladz!  Lookee dere!  At ‘em, triple time quick quick!  Last one dere’s a Stuntie!”

The warband roared ahead, Boyz cackling as they loaded fresh ammunition into their shootas.  After running down—and gunning down—the last of the fleeing humans that had set up this archeological dig that the Orks had attacked, Speedo’s ladz had reluctantly turned back, with the bittersweet realization that there was no one left to kill, and that they would have to content themselves with mere looting. 

But now!  Now, there was a new enemy, one they hadn’t tangled with for quite some time.  Joy surged in their chests, as their Trukks bashed, scraped, and shoved each other as their drivers sought to get there first.

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Armies of the Jungle: Kabal of the Ozone Scorpions

In this series, we showcase armies used by your humble Jungle Guides.  By detailing how the army was collected, how the background and color schemes were developed, and how the army is used on the battlefield, we hope that this series will provide inspiration for those interested in collecting similar armies.

“I was promised a thousand and one yellow daffodils—and yet, there are none,” Archon Syryx Lynatharr said.  He turned to Dr. Jheste, his advisor.  “Why is that?”

“As you can see, Your Magnificence,” the Haemonculus replied, extending an arm, “the city is on fire.”

Indeed, everywhere, the towering, barbed spires of Commorragh were engulfed in flames, both natural—yellow, orange, and red—and supernatural—purple, blue, green.  From high above, an explosion, and the screams of the burning and dying, and the barking laughter of daemons. 

Clutching their splinter rifles a bit tighter, a few of the silver-helmeted Kabalite Warriors guarding Lynatharr and Jheste nervously glanced up, even as thousands of their comrades scrambled through the rippling, gaping tear in reality that was allowing them to return, at last, to the Dark City.

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Armies of the Jungle: Yblis’ Centurions

In this series, we showcase armies used by your humble Jungle Guides.  By detailing how the army was collected, how the background and color schemes were developed, and how the army is used on the battlefield, we hope that this series will provide inspiration for those interested in collecting similar armies.

Battle, endless battle, on a thousand, thousand worlds, for a thousand, thousand years.  Millions fought, millions died—were they memories, or dreams?  The general had slept for so long that he no longer knew. 

At this moment, he recalled—imagined?—with exacting detail how he and his soldiers had blasted through the Syryllian’s lines, gunning down the gelatinous amphibians as they ran.  He remembered— dreamed?— how the loathsome, pulsating body of the Syryllian DeoRex had literally evaporated under the repeated blows of his powerstaff.  Even now, so many years later, the general felt a surge of joy and pride in his victory, just one of a thousand, thousand.

Suddenly, the general was roused to consciousness by a rich, sonorous voice, one he knew and loved. “Awaken, sweet slave,” the voice said.

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