Tag Archives: Agony Aunt

‘Eadnokka, the Agony Uncle

Awright, awright, I’ll introduce meself proper-like. ‘Ere’s the deal, mate. I’m ‘Eadnokka, da Orruk Agony Uncle from da Realm of Ghur. I may not be da smartest gob in da realm, but I got a ‘eart for ‘elpin’ folks wif their troubles. So, if ya got a problem or a question, I’m yer orcish go-to lad for some down-to-earth advice. Just remember, I ain’t no fancy-pants scholar, but I’ll do me best to give ya a straight answer. So, what’s troublin’ ya, me ol’ mates?

Dear Agony Uncle,

Today my son came to me and said, “Dad, I don’t want to be your partner for the next doubles event. You refuse to bring anything that can win. You are just too worried that someone might find a good list mean. Git Gud.”

Should I go nuts and brutalize the next doubles event, or just make my kid mow the lawn the day of the next doubles event?

From the mouth of babes,

Savaged in Austin

Dear Savaged in Austin,

When yer kid tells ya, “Git Gud,” ya gotta show ’em who’s da boss! Forget bout mowin’ da lawn. Insted, ya gotta go to that doubles event and unleash yer inner WAAAGH! Make ’em tremble in fear as ya bring a list that’s gonna smash ’em all proper!

When yer opponents see ya comin’ wif a lineup so brutal, they’ll be beggin’ for mercy! Crush ’em, bash ’em, and leave ’em wonderin’ what hit ’em. Show yer kid that ya ain’t afraid to bring the violence and win that doubles event like a true Orruk!

Enjoy the thrill of battle and let yer kid get in on da glory of yer conquests.

Now go out there, Savaged in Austin, and show ’em wot ya got! WAAAGH!

Urs brutishly,

Dear Agony Uncle,

I love the dynamic poses if push-fit models, but I hate assembling them. Why must I suffer by pushing the spikes of this Karkadrak just to get a poor fit and trim the posts anyway?


I just want my fingers to stop bleeding

So, ya wanna avoid dem pesky push-fit models do ya, and yer fingers bleedin’ like mad? Well, ‘ere’s a cheeky suggestion for ya: forget about those flimsy models and get yerself sum proper Orruk Brutes!

Ya see, dese Brutes are big, tuff, and ready for a proper scrap. No more fiddlin’ wiv tiny spikes or trimmin’ posts. Just grab ’em by their brutish arms and slap ’em together like a true Orruk wud!

Wiv dem Brutes, ya don’t need no fancy glue or delicate assembly. They’ll fit togever wiv a gud *thunk* that’ll make ya feel like ya conquered Mount Krushmore itself! Plus, dey come wiv sum ded gud, an’ solid hackas, so no need to worry ’bout dem breakin’ off like dem uvva models.

And let’s not forget da joy of paintin’ dese lads. Their big, burly muscles and snarlin’ faces make ’em ded fun to bring to life wiv yer brushes. Ya can go wild wiv da colours, givin’ ’em a fearsum look that’ll make yer enemies quake in der boots!

So, me friend, leave dem push-fit models in da dust and embrace da brutish brilliance of Orruk Brutes. No more bleedin’ fingers, just glorious WAAAGH-worthy models ready to bring da pain!

WAAAGHin’ with laughter,

Why are Aelves?

Buckle up, me mateys, ‘coz ‘Eadnokka’s got a little sumfin’ to say about ’em!

Ya see, dese aelves, dey strut around like they’re da bees’ knees, all ‘igh and mighty wiv their fancy hair, their delicut features, and their darn pointy ears! I mean, seriously, wot’s wiv all the pointy ears? Can’t they keep ’em tucked away or somethin’? It’s like dey’re tryin’ to out-elf each other, if ya ask me.

And wot about their fancy-schmancy names! I mean, who needs all dem extra vowels and silunt lettaz? “I’m Lord Aerithyllion Featherwind, the Radiant Blade of Eternal Light.” Give me a break! ‘Ere’s a thought, why don’t they just use normal names like “Steve” or “Barbara”?

And don’t even get me started on their obsession wiv beauty and grace. They’re always prancin’ around like they’re on a bloomin’ catwalk. It’s like dey spend more time in front of a mirror dan they do inna proper fight! Maybe if dey focused more on swingin’ a sword instead of tryin’ to look pretty, they’d be a bit more useful inna fight!

So, there ya ‘ave it, me lads and lasses. Dey may be a bit too pretty and prancy for my likin’, but I suppose there’s room for all sorts in dese crazy realms. Now, let’s all ‘ave a laugh and get back to bashin’ some skulls, aight?

Givin’ them aelves a bit o’ ribbin’,

Introducing: Your New Agony Aunt

Here at Woehammer, we know that Warhammer fans never complain about anything. But – sometimes it can be healthy to get something off your chest. This is a game of two halves, and one of those halves is always wrong, or too strong – right? But, great sports as we all are, we bottle those feelings up. But feelings ferment (it’s the salt!) and left too long, can turn sour, and blow the bottle of your unconscious into shards of misery that dig deep into your most squishy, inner parts – and no-one wants that.

Least of all your new, resident Agony Aunt, The Slaughter Queen known as ‘Kreelith Tongue-Tearer’. She drove a hard bargain – most of the Woehammer team are still recuperating from the blood-letting – but eventually the Cauldron was full, and she pledged her services to us in perpetuity, or until we all became exsanguinate husks in service of her God-Mother – whichever comes first.

Kreelith Tongue-Taker your new Warhammer Agony Aunt
Kreelith is all ears. And sacrificial daggers.

Now, after such an ordeal, we’re sincerely hoping some of you have some gripes you can send in for Kreelith to help you with, in her infinite, bloodthirsty wisdom. Want to complain about a certain faction? Let it all out (so long as it’s not Daughters of Khaine…). Have a secret shame or confession you need to get off your chest? Let Kreelith rip your heart out – figuratively speaking. Just want to moan about something preventing you from Warhammering as much as you’d like to? Bare all to your new master! Master of comforting understanding, that is.

To submit your woe (Nice, I like what you did there – Peter) to Kreelith and be in with a chance of receiving her blessing/scorn/infinite wisdom in one of her weekly columns, just visit our new channel in our discord and share your agony!