订阅以下载
Reskin: Golgfag's Goldteeth Maneaters

Changes the Golgy's special Maneaters to the more posh Goldteeth Maneaters.

Once, in the blood-soaked days of the Empire’s endless wars, there came a most curious tale of ogres and gold.

The Maneaters had just shattered the proud host of Balthasar Gelt, Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic. The Empire’s banners were torn, its soldiers scattered like leaves before a storm, and the field stank of roasted meat and iron.

Yet the great mercenary was not content. For though his ogres had eaten well, their feast was marred by an unexpected grievance: the cursed, enchanted armor of the Empire’s troops had left many a Maneater with splintered tusks and aching jaws. Half-Tusk became Half-No-Tusk that day, and Gristle-Belly swore he’d bitten through more iron than flesh.

They dragged the golden-masked wizard before their chief, and the Maneater demanded recompense. “Yer fancy spells broke me lads’ teeth,” he growled. “What’re yer gonna do about it, eh?”

Gelt was no fool. Behind his golden mask, he saw not doom but opportunity. These ogres valued status almost as much as they did meat, and so he made an offer he knew the Maneaters would not refuse. “Mercenary, imagine this: your finest fighters outfitted with golden tusks, stronger than steel and sharp enough to shear through any armor. Ogres across the world would tremble at the sight of such magnificence. All I ask in return… is safe passage for me and what remains of my men.”

At this, the Maneaters grew quiet. Even ogres can appreciate a bit of style, and the thought of glittering gnashers filled them with glee.

So it was agreed. Gelt was spared, for a time, as he forged and enchanted the first set of golden ogre tusks in history. From that day on, The Maneater's fiercest fighters strutted into battle with jaws that gleamed like treasure hoards, and any foe who dared stand before them soon found himself crunched—plate mail and all.