The battle of Shandalai

In the year 18 of the Permenia Calendar, an alliance was forged between the Seraphon and Idoneth, as the forces of chaos became stronger in the northern Neuvian region of Izmael. North of Izmael the plains gave way to marshlands in the land of Shandalai, where wide rivers flowed down from the tall mountains that hid the secretive realm of Tizca, to the cold northern seas. Here the chaos armies could be stopped from breaking out into Aedacia, and falling on the Quemaran colony of Champieu from the north. The Aelves had no particular qualms about the Quemarans falling to chaos, but the loss of access to the entire nothern coast of Neuvia gave them common cause with the Seraphon, who were still working to support the men of Sigmar and their allies, in order to stop their most hated foe.

The battle of Shandalai was a crushing victory for the forces of order. The Slaanesh host was destroyed early on in the battle, leaving the devotees of nurgle outnumbered and at risk of encirclement. The nurgle host did manage to inflict some casualties as it retreated back to the hinterlands of the chaos realm, but the borderlands and the floodplains of the river Shand were secured for the forces of order, at least for the time being.

Tales from Neuvia

My Lord Admiral,

I have been following the Quemaran Expedition this past year as it has made its way inward from the landing site. A small settlement named "Champieu" now serves as a makeshift port for New Quemara, and the general of the local "Front" has styled himself "Duq" if you please! The Quemarans have mostly explored the lowland region of Paeris, although to the east lie a great range of mountains. Here the humans got themselves into a spot of bother, when they were denied passage by an army of Fyreslayers. I suggested a parley but the hot headed sons of Sigmar demanded passage through the passes to the Tizcan Empire. It came as no surprise to any son of Grungni how that ended, and that Quemaran expedition was sent back to Champieu.

Worse still for the menfolk, the remnants of the army sent east were ambushed by the worshippers of the Dark Gods, and I was forced to sail away from the battle lest me and my crew be caught up in it. It didn't go well for the Sigmarite army and the tattered remnants of another failed expedition returned some weeks later to the port settlement. I did hear that the Seraphon tried to send help to the Quemaran expedition, but whatever magic that Slaan uses on Corexis certainly doesn't seem to work on Neuvia. A skaven horde stopped him the first time and then, just this past month, word reached us that an entire Seraphon army had been defeated by the Idoneth fish elves if you can believe that! More bad news for "the Duq" at any rate.

I should mention the forces of chaos in the east as well. Over the mountains, in the land of Izmael, another captain tells me that he saw a horde of grots annihilated by the forces of Nurgle. This gives me bad feelings about the profitability of the venture, although the captain also says that the very tops of the mountains on Neuvia are rich in Aether Gold! If we are to make a good turnover out of this venture though, I think we will need the Sky Fleet. You say New Quemara is well defended on Corexis and our assets secure enough. In which case, send the fleet to Neuvia. There is another human empire in the mountains and beyond it lies a chaotic citadel. The mountains themselves are infested with grots and ratmen, and the aelves are abroad on the seas. I'm going to need a bigger boat.

Yours
Barik Gurnisson
Captain of Frigate Equitable Merchant

Permenia, map of Neuvia

Permenia - a new discovery

To the honoured lords of Barak Haraz,

As year 16 of the Permenia calendar begins, I find myself remiss in providing regular updates to the council, and beg that you judge me to have addressed this oversight by way of this letter. Apologies at the length, I have much to update your lords about.

Our friends in the south

The south of the Corexis isles continues to be a fruitful partnership between our kin and the men of Sigmar. The Sigmarites govern and rule over their own, although we have helped them build cities and settlements as well as great works of engineering which they have paid us and the other duardin an acceptable amount. Trading with these people is reliable, if unspectacular, and the aristocratic lords who form the "council" of New Quemara have done us the courtesy of giving us a seat at their table. There is also a suspicious Slann creature who often turns up to speak apparent words of wisdom, but we do not interfere as it seems they bring their great knowledge to aid the Quemarans, and it has ever been polite and courteous to us.

In the east the "Blood Coast Alliance" remains in place, a union of convenience between the sylvaneth and the idoneth, which continues to be vexatious. Few men or other civilised folk have been able to penetrate these realms.

Our enemies to the north

To the north of the river Sallowash the islands of Corexis are a dark and miserable land with few opportunities for profit. The lords of the dead rule over the wretched citizens within Fermia, Athein and much of Kyrelia, and further north still there are the dread blighted lands of Phyrax, dominated by grot and ratmen.

In the far north, in Caledron, the Domain of Beasts has now been superceded for not only do strange beast armies roam the lands, but dread denizens of the dark gods are also abroad in these savage lands. These daemon armies and devotees of the plague lord have already assaulted the Blighted Lands and the kingdom of the skaven, although it seems the rat men are not united, as some seem to fight for the leaders of Blightport, while others join in the destruction wrought by the chaos interlopers.

This would not be too much trouble for us in the south, but the nobles of Quemara do insist on sending "expeditions" north seeking riches and glory. Alas none of these expeditions have as yet returned.

A new discovery

In the last year we have been recieving more and more information from our long range scouting frigates indicating that there are many more islands in this sub realm. Our navigators have finally worked out where this sub realm actually is, and it may come as some surprise for you to know that Permenia is in fact one section of the "All Points", and that the realm narrows as you move inward. We are on the furthest islands from the dread fortress of Archaon that lies at the heart of the realm. A few days flight inward however, a larger landmass has been detected, which we have named Neuvia and we intend to explore and see what trading opportunities lie therein.

Despite advice to the contrary, a Quemaran fleet did set sail for Neuva a few months ago, with much pagentry and waving of flags. All too predictably they have not returned, with the last message from them reading "landed safely, natives warn of "fish elves" but we believe the threat to be exaggerated..." Ah well, I will follow up very soon once we have gathered enough stores and men to secure a coastal landing area, although the Sigmarites may have started on that at least.

Yours,

Admiral Gromrik Aetherson

Admiral of the Arkanaut FLeet of Barak Haraz

Permenia Expedition

Idoneth clash with beasts

The Eidolon and its retinue swept through the vanguard of the beast herd with little effort. The small bleating creatures were annihilated within moments. The King meanwhile prepared his main lines to meet the bulk of the horde, confidence filling the Idoneth lines as they saw they had the beasts out matched.

But this confidence was short lived as a mighty raw rose from the nearby tree line. A gigantic ghorgon barrelled out of the undergrowth, lunging for the Eidolon and bearing it to the ground. The pinned avatar was helpless as the monster smashed it to a pulp with its bare fist. More monstrosities appeared from the dark forest, roaring obscenities as they crashed into the Idoneth lines.

The aelves managed to maintain discipline despite some grievous casualites, falling back in good order so that they could bring their greatest assets to bear.

A tidal wave of eel born knights flowed over the withdrawing Idoneth and plunged deep into enemy lines. Unprepared for such a violent counter punch the beast lines faultered, and then crumbled. Pockets of resistance formed around the herd leaders but even these eventually fell to the wrathful aelves.

Battle of Shivermere

The year of 13PC saw the rulers of the Marrowcraw Court leading crusades on three fronts. In the North, the Beasts of the Barrowgorge Fray continued to raid across the Splintervale. To the south, the Quemaran belligerents remained a considerable military presence. But by far the most pressing threat to the Dominion of Death lay to the east, where the forces of the Bloodcoast Alliance maintained constant aggression along the expansive border between the rival nations. The most recent attacks saw their Carpathian mercenary companies beginning to encroach upon ruined outskirts of Shivermere, the largest city in the eastern regions of the Dominion of Death, as they sought to seize control of the arcane conduit waystones that channel the flow of death magic across the Dominion’s borders.

With their armies already stretched thin, and with a vast border to defend, the Marrowcraw princes unleashed an ancient and terrible power to bolster the defences of their kingdom. Drawn forth from the crypts of Shivermere, summoned from aeons-long slumber by malign rituals, hosts of fell spectres surged from the netherworld. Led by their dread monarch, Varros the Ever-Damned, the revenant army unleashed from Shivermere swept eastward to intercept the Carpathians.

The Carpathians were swift to form-up into battle order in the face of Varros’ attack, intent on driving back the spectral host. The Namarti foot soldiers of the Hollow Legion formed the vanguard, their Reaver archers raining fire down upon the oncoming ghasts. But the horror of spectral onslaught proved overwhelming for the Hollow Legion and the Namarti fled in terror.

The fierce cavalry of the Akhelian corps were not so easily daunted, surging into the fray astride gnashing Fangmora mounts. Though outnumbered by the massing revenant host, the Akhelian warriors’ counter-attack blunted the advance of Varros’ swarming ghosts. As the aether tides began to swell, the Shivermere spirits seemed to lose their form and cohesion. While the Akhelians held fast in the centre, a mighty Eidolon of Mathlann, borne upon a aetheric tidal wave, came crashing down upon the flanks of Varros’ black knights even as they advanced to encircle the Carpathians. With the arrival of the Aspect of the Storm, bringing in its wake reinforcements from the Hollow Legion, it seemed as if the forces of death would be swept aside. Overwhelmed by the fury of the mighty Eidolon, the revenants began to dissipate and fade back into the mists, and their grim sorcerers were put to flight.

But the malice that drove the Ever-Damned was unbridled. In life, Varros had been a despot. In death, his malevolence was all-consuming. With the ghosts of Shivermere shackled to his will, Varros dragged the spirits of Shivermere back across the mortal veil. The ghastly forces began to coalesce once more, as if untouched by the trials of battle. By contrast, the Akhelian mercenaries were beleaguered and fatigued, now finding themselves surrounded by Varros’ re-formed army. The remaining Carpathians tried to break free and escape, riding the receding aether-tides to safety. Furious Fangmoras thrashed and writhed past their spiteful attackers, some were cut down by swirling blades and others dragged from their saddles by grave-cold grasping claws.

The ghosts of Shivermere had driven the Carpathians out of the city and back across the borders into the Aelvish lands from whence they came. Varros the Ever-Damned had delivered the Marrowcraw Court a victory. But would the dread tyrant of Shivermere be satisfied to retire back to his tomb in the wake of his victory?

Chaos in the northern wastes

The leader of the troupe spun gracefully through the verdant field. With a soaring leap she landed in the midst of a daisy patch. She was soon joined by a vibrant cohort of fellow dancers, their every move perfectly timed...

...the Gor herd screamed in terror as the tide of Daemonettes crashed into them, joining the titanic Keeper of Secrets that had just lunged into the centre of their ranks. Razor sharp claws tore chunks of flesh and fur and blood turned the dry, cracked earth a deep red...

...the dancers went their separate ways as the tempo of the music changed. Some of the younger and more agile members of the troupe went to play amongst a nest of rabbits. Others danced around an ancient oak tree as it gently swayed in the light breeze...

...a pack of Seekers separated from the mass of daemons, barreling into the unfortunate Ungors in the rear guard. Another group of the riders surrounded the giant Cygor, slicing it to ribbons with the bladed limbs as it clumsily swung at them with it's great fists...

...the troupe leader danced atop a lichen covered boulder as the music reached it crescendo. The rest of the troupe matching her every movement from all over the green field...

...the Keeper of Secrets, To'Me'Ku'Pr, plunged its mighty claws into the ancient Shaggoth, watching in delight as the life faded from its eyes. It's agony was palpable. The God Hunters had won the day as the last beasts in the arid valley were cut down...

...the dance moved on...

Sylvaneth renew contract with Idoneth Deepkin

With ten years of service now completed it was time for Alarielle to renew her contract with Carpathia. Wary of their “allies” mercurial nature the Syvaneth had insisted that there be provision within the contract for it to be renewed without the risk of having to compete with rival offers from the other factions on Permenia. Such caution was wise but the smooth rolling-over of the contract was complicated by a dispute over payment caused by an ambiguous semi-colon in the 76th paragraph.

Unable to reach an agreement over the exact meaning of the wording the nobles leading Carpathia's expeditionary force consulted their codex of contract law and determined that such a dispute could be best settled in a trial by combat. The value of the disputed payment would be split into six portions and scattered in equal spacing about the field of battle. The two sides would compete to capture the treasure hordes with each side getting to keep what was captured.

As battle broke out the Idoneth were initially baffled by the rapid growth of shrubbery about the treasure cashes but since there was no prohibition on this within the codex the trial was allowed to continue. The Idoneth launched themselves into the trees and acquitted themselves with honour, proving the martial strength of Carpathia's legions to their paymasters. Despite this much of the disputed treasure simply vanished into the trees whilst the fighting was going on and the matter was eventually settled decisively in the Sylvaneth's favour. 

The Idoneth were frustrated but respected the outcome of the trial by combat and their contract with the Alarielle was renewed for a further ten years.

Battle of the Sallowash

Nighthaunt defeat Seraphon for control of the Sallowash river valley

Idoneth defeat Slaanesh in Yarpin

Since the beginning of their service as part of the so called “Blood Coast Alliance” Carpathia's expeditionary forces on Permenia had been relegated mostly to defending and patrolling Alarielle's steadily growing territory. The Sylvaneth were fully aware that their allies were fighting for coin rather than principle and seemed reluctant trust them in open combat. Although their mundane duties were seen as an insult by Carpathia's proud Akhelian nobility the situation met with little protest, after all they were making a tidy profit and sustaining only minimal casualties. If the Sylvaneth were content to see such a poor return for their investment it was fine with Carpathia's legions.

The Idoneth were shaken from their routine when patrols operating out of Yarpin's newly established fortifications located a host of Slaaneshi daemons trespassing into Aelven territory. Without bothering to consult with or warn their Sylvaneth allies Prince Leonidas ordered the legions to assemble and sally forth. This chance to hunt his race's most hated foes would be the perfect antidote for his boredom and he was determined that the Sylvaneth would not steal this opportunity from him as they had so many others.

Riding forth the Idoneth confronted the daemon host amidst the florishing woodlands of Yarpin amidst the base of an Aelven watchtower. Knowing the speed of his foe Leonidas thought little of callously throwing his Namarti to the front as bait to be ridden down in the initial charge. As the minions of Slaanesh butchered the hapless Namarti Leonidas unleashed the vengeful knights of Carpathia. Crashing into the daemons as they  danced and capered amidst the corpses the Namarti the  whooping Akhelians rode them down in turn before flowing onwards to surround the greater daemon that led them. Momentarily stupefied by is mesmerising musk the knights faltered for a moment but Leonidas barred the abomination's path, fending off its attacks in a dazzling display of skill. Overcoming their momentary hesitation the knights rushed to the aid of their prince and cut down the mighty daemon. With their living paragon banished the remaining daemons faded.

Their spirits lifted by the joy of combat the Idoneth returned back to their fortress and word of this disturbing new foe was finally sent to Alarielle.

Battle of Fermia desert

By year 11 of the permenia Calendar, New Quemara had developed into a country of over two hundred thousand. The most populous region remained the hinterlands of Vinduhr to the south of the Collines du Nord, but the northern and eastern territories were rapidly propsering thanks to continued immigration. Much of the influx of settlers from outside of Permenia was based on the contracts gained by the Kharadron Overlords, who began performing convoy escorts and transportation services for the nobles of other realms keen to exploit the new sub Realm of Quemara. One major family involved in this expedition was the Alptraum family, a dynasty who claimed lineage of their line to the age of Myth and beyond.

 

Claims of lineage aside, the resulting influx of the Alptraum's and those people they feudally dominated rapidly expanded the settlements on the borders of Quemara. Not trusting the lords of Vinduhr to provide them with military support, the Alptraums raised their own forces to protect the Eastern Marches, and the army was headed by Duke Gabriel Alptraum from his noble seat at Dietenburen. The Alptraum army's first test came in the eleventh year, when from the north and from the dark forests of Aglia, a horde of beastmen was reported heading south over the Fermia Desert. This relatively small desert existed due to the realm's strange magical flows, and no rain fell here, but it was easily crossable in just a few days. Duke Gabriel realised the army posed a threat to his lands of East Quemara, and raised his banners to face the beasts in Fermia before they could head south. The Aelves simply watched from their towers and halls.

 

The army of men set up on the scorched plain of the desert, their greatswords on the left flank and their swordsmen on the right. in the centre the might of the Alptraum artillery was protected by units of freeguild, and behind, near the Duke himself, Knights of Order prepared to breakthrough any weakness in the enemy battleline. Facing the human host a tide of beasts rolled across the horizon, with gors and ogors and even a mighty Ghorgon causing the ground to rumble as the beast herd approached.

 

The Free people of Quemara struck the first blow, killing the Ghorgon outright with well placed cannon and rocket volleys, and the bullgors suffered as well to the artillery. On the left flank the gors were reluctant to face the greatswords of the Alptraums, but on the Duke's right wing the bestigors managed to outflank the Quemaran position and get into combat with the swordsmen, who were soon in trouble. Spooting an opportunity, Gabriel ordered his Knights to charge the dragon ogors in the centre of the beast herd's line, but the charge did not hit home with enough power. Unable to wound the beasts with their lances, the ogors and shaggoth wiped out the knights and started advancing on the human centre.

 

On the left flank the free people did well, with the standoff with the gors finally ending when the beasts reluctantly charged. No match for the greatswords, the gors were cut down. The duke meanwhile had to deal with the appearance of a cockatrice, but this distraction delayed the general's intervention on events on his right flank. Here the bestigors had defeated the free swordsmen of Dietenburen, and were working inexorably towards the artillery. The artillery itself had prooved less than effective after its initial shooting, as the nervous gunners often missed their intended targets. By nightfall on the first day the beast herd had wiped out the defending free company around the artillery pieces, and the crew fled. Now only the greatswords remained battleworthy, and they conducted a retreat from the Fermian deserts, hoping the beast herd would not follow them over the hills into New Quemara.

Skaven dominate Blightport

D&G vs. D&G @1000 - win to D&G!

• more squabbling. 

Seraphon establish eastern border of Quemara

The loss of the Kharadron presence in the Eastern Marches of the Realm of New Quemara brought an ever increasing encroachment of the tree-kin to the villagers of men that dwelt in the valleys south of the Vallee Liontaine. At first, the trees simply grew unnaturally quickly, but gradually, the force of nature itself seemed to turn against the settlers in the region, bringing failed harvests and shortages. The Lords of Vinduhr offered aid, and began to help the inhabitants cut back the encroaching forests.

At first this policy worked well, but as Year 10 of the Permenia calendar drew to a close, the aelves and spirits of the woods took action, raising many small villages in the Eastern Marches and marching on the town of Clerton. Clearly the alliance of the east had decided to expand their empire, as the enmity between aelves and men had not diminished since the incident at the Silverrush. The Lords of Quemara and the Kharadrons of Karak Findar were petitioned for help in throeing back the invaders, but the sky dwarves had no fleet to spare, since they were prospecting in the north. The city of Vinduhr stayed silent, unable in truth to raise an army, and dissent in the Eastern Marches grew.

Eventually, as the population began to risk turning to other paths to save their lands, the Slaan intervened. Seen as a mysterious other-worldly figure as he strode through the ranks of men defending Clerton, at first he was regarded with suspicion, but as the aelves drew up for battle, the might of the Slaan drew to him a vast host of Seraphon that materialised between the defenders of the town and the invading dryads and tree-kin.

In the battle that followed, the Seraphon overcame the aelvish host, driving the tree kin away from the Eastern Marches, although the Slaan was wounded in the process. He refused all aid however, and simply disappeared once more, a mysterious protector of the people of Quemara, some of whom began to even worship as a god. Five times the Seraphon had now come to the aid of the Quemarans, and twice against the Blood Coast Alliance, a fact which concerned the aelf lords of Bael Fierste. For some reason the legendary mystics of Azyr were helping the humans and dwarf empires above their own, and in the eleventh year, the Alliance sent an emissary to Vinduhr, agreeing peace between the two nations and recognising the Silverrush as the border between their lands.

 

Battle of the Eastern Marches

Gromrik stared at the assembled dwarfs, his eyes almost disappearing underneath his brows as his frown intensified, his hands on his hips as he scowled at his duardin brothers.

"How could this happen?!" He grunted.

The dwarfs looked at each other or at the floor, none of the Kharadrons wanting to face the wrath of their admiral. Behind the duardin fleet commander, several dwarf miners were picking through the remains of their precious equipment, now entangled and crushed between tree roots, moss and other plant life. The Chief miner was in tears, being consoled by his assistant. Gromrik continued.

"We won the battle, so what is this?" Gromrik gestured to the destruction.

One duardin sheepishly looked up at his commander as the others prodded him forward.

"Well admiral, it was that big tree we think, the one that charged our lines early on. We think... we think it might have planted something".

Gromrik looked aghast.

"Of course it was the damned tree you idiot. I meant how could you lot let it get so close. Why weren't you protecting the miners!".

The arkanauts looked at one another. There was a long pause before someone at the back quietly muttered, "...don't like trees".

Gromrik rolled his eyes and trudged off to the ironclad "Dreadnought". It was almost complete, but still needed a fresh lick of paint. the fleet looked majestic moored to the hills above the valley of the river Silverrush, at the edge of the Eastern Marches. The river bed was once more covered in a carpet of green, and the water flowed briskly through the valley. Trees dotted the banks in a scene many would consider idyllic. gromrik shook his head. All this had happened in two days. Less than a week previously, the scene had been very different.

Gromrik's Sky-Host had recieved reports from the locals of the Eastern Marches that the Silverrush valley was rich in natural resources, especially precious gems, stones and metals washed down from the cliffs nearer to the coast. Eager to investigate this potential profit, Gromrik had secured a contract with a group of duardin miners. The Kharadrons would provide the capital for the venture, with the dwarfs allowed to mine the area at a more industrial scale than the peasant human farmers with their pans. The Lords of Quemara granted Gromrik a warrant to prospect, but concerns were raised regarding the proximity of the venture so close to the Aelvish lands.

It was in year 10 of the Permenia Calendar that Gromrik received the first warning. Spirits would visit the camps in the night warning the duardin to abandon their efforts, but these were ignored. By the summer of that year, the entire river had been damned and diverted, laying bear the sandy riverbed glistening with occasional jewels, hinting at the riches below. The expedition then decided to fully exploit this new found wealth, delving into the soil and carving away at the rocks. Trees and all life around the riverbed for miles were cut down or removed, leaving a scar on the landscape of the eastern marches. By autumn the mining expedition was into profit, and looked sure to make Gromrik a handsome return. That was when the Sylvaneth, aghast at the ruin of so much of nature, interved.

Trees started to grow at a supernatural rate across the other side of the river, and Gromrik drew together his powerful defensive fleet and arkanaut companies. He was well aware the Aelves and spirits of the wood may attempt to take back the riverlands, and he had taken steps to ensure the safety of the minors. With a shriek a Frostheart Phoenix made its presence known, and the giant bird attacked the arkanauts. Heavy casualties followed, but the bird was cut down. The duardin were forced back by onrushing tree-beasts, as they gave ground in order to better shoot their enemies with their aetheric weapons.

That had been the mistake, though Gromrik. The Kharadrons had fought the battle like any other engagement, giving ground in order to concentrate their firepower and using the mobility of their ships to outmanoeuvre the enemy. But the Kharadrons had forgotten one thing, to protect the mining gear. The onrushing sylvaneth attacked almost recklessly, and although trees began sprouting on the near side of the bank, trees could be cut down. For the Aelvish host, casualties were high as the duardin firepower wrought terrible damage on the spirits of the forests. Great Tree spirits were felled, and the Kurnoth Kunters were savaged by Endrinriggers. The Sylvaneth retreated as the dwarfs cheered, but even then something felt wrong to Admiral Aetherstrider.

In their reckless attack, the Sylvaneth host had wrecked the mining equipment vital to the enterprise, and spread the seed of regrowth across the valley of the Silverrush. Despite losing more casualties, the Aelvish Lands had effectively removed Gromrik's mining expedition, and no trace of it remained on the riverbed, which had returned to its peaceful natural state. The battle had been a warning from the Blood Coast Alliance, the faction in control of the Aelvish lands. Stay on your side of the river.

Gromrik sighed. "OK lads, back to the ships. There is nothing more for us here".

The Harrowcrag expands its borders

Long had the lords of the Marrowcraw Courts sought to “reclaim” the Splintervale, the expansive hinterland that stretches north beyond the Tatterspine Hills as far as the River Mournrush. Numerous raids had been suffered across the Splintervale, its gently rolling hills and open countryside proving easy terrain for marauding forces. Deeming these lands their “ancestral right” the descendants of the Drázkhary dynasty were set upon securing their dominion over the Splintervale.  

Prince Dragos, the de facto military commander of the Marrowcraw Court, had previously ventured across the Splintervale to scour the land of invaders in the wake of the raids by the Vermin clans, but he was forced to take his armies eastward to deal with the ever-more frequent skirmishes with the Sylváney tribes. The titular Duke of the Splintervale, Yvan the Gaunt, had fallen in Battle of the Charnel Fords during the crusades against the Quermarans. So it fell to his nephew, Lord Ygor of Shivermere, to lead the latest Drázkhary crusades in the quest to claim the Splintervale. Though relatively inexperienced to campaigning when compared to the court elders, what Ygor lacked in experience he more than compensated for in chivalric spirit, leading from the front and inspiring his men with conspicuous bravery on the field of battle.

The knights and militia levies of Shivermere clashed first with the savage tribes of the Barrowgorge Fray who had taken to frequent plundering of the settlements in the eastern marches. These nomadic beasts proved a wily foe, accustomed as they are to guerrilla tactics and roving ambushes. Slowly, over the course of many weeks and at the cost of heavy casualties, Ygor succeeded in driving the Fray from the Splintervale. By garrisoning and fortifying each farmstead and village as it was cleared the crusaders were able to prevent the Fray from maintaining a foothold, and soon the beasts were increasingly dependent upon falling back to their own borders for supply and reinforcement. Though doubtless the Barrowgorge Fray would return to raid the Splintervale they would find its estates and villages better prepared and defended against future attack.

The crusade did not end with the defeat of the Barrowgorge Fray. Having secured a border along the River Mournrush, Ygor needed to lead his crusaders south against an altogether different foe. The duardin of Karak Findar had taken to prospecting far and wide across Permenia. Having sailed their skyvessels the many leagues north to descend upon the Splintervale the enterprising duardin had recently established a mining outpost in the foothills of the Tatterspine peaks. 

Upon receiving fresh levies from Harrowcrag, along with a pair of ferocious dragons sent from the castle’s stables, Ygor was able to launch a sudden and savage attack upon the mining outpost. Though lesser in number than the tribes of the Barrowgorge Fray, the duardin were no less formidable in battle, bringing to bear sophisticated technology - and with it, deadly firepower. Ygor’s army found the outpost to be well defended, taking punishing fusillades from the defending duardin. The nimble skyvessels proved too agile for Ygor’s forces, strafing the Marrowcraw soldiers as they advanced. Even the mighty Harrowcrag dragons could not withstand the fury of the Arkanauts’ guns. Yet the beleaguered duardin simply could not match the sheer numbers of Ygor’s army. The skyvessels proved too few in number to be able to contain the massed infantry and knights of Ygor’s army as they attacked across a broad front. The Arkanaut ground forces were overwhelmed by the assault and the outpost was sacked.

The expulsion of the Karak Findar presence from the Splintervale saw the lands secured at last. With the Drázkhary’s alliance to the Aster-Lonvren in the west, a Dominion of Death now stretched from the banks of the Mournrush in the north to the floodplains of the Sallowwash in the south, controlling all the lands of Athein and Fermia.

Forces of Death clash with Alliance in Aglia

Having defeated the beastmen herds, the armies of the aelves continued to expand werstward, inevitably coming into conflict with the dominion of death on the plains of Aglia. The host of Lonvren could not allow this expansion to go unchecked, but were unable to gain enough support from the lords of the Harrowcrag to overwhelm the victorious Sylvaneth armies with superior numbers. Without the help of the Flesh eater courts, the Nighthaunt army was forced to face the aelves on somewhat equal terms, and using their skill with the magic of nature, the undead army was overcome by the very trees themselves. After a pitched battle lasting many hours, the host of Lonvren was forced into retreat, ensuring aelvish domination of the lands east of the Tatterspine hills. 

Seraphon defeat Barrowgorge Fray

The battle lines were drawn. The summoned host of lizards stood in geometrically perfect lines whilst on the other side of the small hamlet was the swirling mass of agitated beasts. 

The lizards sent forth their skirmishers to slow the hordes advance and to give the howdah mounted alien weaponry on the backs of their larger monsters a chance to take a toll on the tide of chaos facing them.

With a mighty roar the Bray herd smashed through the lines of skirmishers and made for the main lines of the host of order. Beams of light scythed down scores of warriors whilst summoned comets rained down, causing fiery destruction deep within the chaos lines.

Despite this the beasts of chaos managed to meet their enemy in melee. The force of the charge alone smashed down the first 3 ranks of lizards, even before the frenzied hosts set to work with their rusted blades. The right left flank of the lizard army, centred around the villages graveyard, took the worst of the fighting and only the timely intervention of giant armoured monsters managed to turn the tide back in the favour of order. With their main lines held at bay and their best warriors still dealing with scattered skirmishers the beasts of chaos looked to their leaders only to find that the shamans and warlords had been systemically engaged and destroyed by concentrated fire and summoned flyers.

With no command left the horse of beasts started to loose what little organisation they had. The lizards took advantage of this turning of the tide and pushed the beasts back, hacking swathes of them down even as they turned to run.

The battle had been won and the victorious forces of order had kept the darkness at bay for the time being.

Sylvaneth expand into East Yarpin

The herd of gors shifted uneasily. They were watching the tree line for any sign of the unseen enemy. They could hear the sounds of battle and smell the blood and sap in the air as the bestigor barrelled through the eastern edge of the forest.

The unnatural woodland had not been there when they had set up the camp the night before and all three of the scouting parties that had been sent in to find a route through had yet to return.

The bestigor had gone in, confident of having a path through the thick undergrowth. But from the sound of the screaming and clashing of blades that was not going as easily as planned. The larger ghorgons could not push through the densely packed trees to lend assistance and the accompanying cygor ineffetively launched boulders at any sign of movement.

The bullgors, always impatient, took it upon themselves to go in unaided further to the west and it wasn't long before they also met with the mysterious foe.

As soon as this new engagement was underway there was a crash as what looked like a vast beetle burst out of the tree line and headed straight for the centre of the partially collapsed camp. The ungor and remaining bestigor were sent to confront, or at least slow, this new threat. Meanwhile a graceful warrior riding a large blue bird came soaring over the tree tops heading to strike at the mighty dragon ogor shaggoth. The ogor swung wildly in self defence but could not land any blows on the enemy as it darted in and out, taking chunks of the shaggoth's flesh with each hit.

Some members of the gor herd turned to run only to discover that new growth had begun even as the battle was taking place. The camp was now completely encircled by the shifting trees. With no other options left the gors nervously pushed into the tree line to assist their fellow tribe members.

The largest of monsters that could not push into the trees paced like caged beasts or hacked ineffetively at the encroaching woodland as the sounds of battle died. It wasn't long before they too were engulfed by the woods.

Seraphon defeat Sylvaneth in East Carmin

While Gromrik’s forces were dealing with the beastherds of the north, the Blod Coast Alliance, now establishing a realm in the east, were a growing concern to the lords of New Quemara. After a heated debate in the halls of government the nobility of the southern land decided they could not threaten war with the Aelvish lands. However the Slaan, who sat quietly listening to the debate, simply left without a word. 

Unknown to the leaders of men, the ancient Slaan had already seen the danger, and decided to entreat with the spirits of the forest himself. However, the Aelves reacted scornfully to his warnings, and with just a hint of disappointment, the aeons old sage was forced to act himself. Summoning a mighty host of Seraphon, the Slaan delivered a crushing blow to the alliance in the lowlands of Carmin, defeating the woodland spirit host and sending a message to the rulers of the Aelvish land. The war against chaos and destruction was approaching and his alliance to the free peoples realm was not to be taken lightly. 

Kharadrons sweep into Carmin

In the 6th year of the Kharadron expedition to the Realm of Permenia, Admiral Gromrik Aetherstrider finally made moves to begin the expansion of the sphere of influence of his fleet. Endorsed by the Council of New Quemara, Gromrik’s sky patrols began scouting out the broad valleys of Carmin, cataloguing resources and making contact where possible with roving nomadic human tribes. Many of these were converted to the cause of the emerging nation of Quemara, and behind the duardin came caravans of men from Vinduhr, eager to settle and civilise these new lands.

It was on one of these scouting patrols that Gromrik faced his second test of arms, as one afternoon as the small fleet made camp for the night, scouting forces detected that just over the hills to the north, a herd of beasts had Also made their camp, and were preparing to attack the assembled dwarfs. 

Gromrik assembled his men around the camp, while keeping his frigate in the sky with fresh troops, the gunhauler moved forward to snipe what it could. Unfortunately the sailors on board got a little too close, and the ensuing Bullgor charge, led by a mighty doom bull, put an end to the duardin sky vessel. Worse still, a horde of Bestigors suddenly appeared from the woods, charging the Kharadron camp and wiping out the defenders. 

Now Gromrik was in trouble. He had intended to use his remaining force to eliminate the beast camp, but quickly he redeployed to defend his camp. Landing his arkanauts and endrinriggers close to the charging beasts, their combined gunfire obliterated the bestigors. The few survivors fleeing rapidly. But Gromrik still needed to deal with a very angry doom bull and his retinue. 

Gromrik’s endrinriggers stood their ground as the leader of the bray herd charged, while a second throng of bestigors, certain of victory, stopped short of the camp to cheer on their mighty leader.  However the doom bull’s attacks miraculously glanced off the metal armour worn by the riggers as they dodged and weaved, landing telling blows in response. Dumbfounded at this turn of events the rest of the beastmen were even more shocked as Gromrik’s second company of arkanauts emerged from the bushes. With a deafening noise the entire Kharadron army opened fire on them, wiping them and their accompanying spawn from the battlefield, as the endrinriggers finished off a very perplexed doom bull.

A cheer went up as the beasts were driven from the field. Gromrik had secured dominance over the plains of Carmin, and the tale of how his army had won against overwhelming odds grew with each retelling, eventually establishing itself as a victory of a mere handful of duardin over an entire army of beastmen. In reality the battle had been relatively small, and Gromrik had been incredibly fortunate. In any case, the victory secured Carmin for New Quemara, and boosted the prestige and morale of the new alliance. 

Blood Coast Alliance clear Aglia

The armies of the northern savage lands, belonging to the skaven - grot alliance known as “Doom and Gloom”, continued their ongoing skirmishes with the Blood Coast Alliance in the lowlands of Aglia. Having dealt with the rat men I. Set piece battles in the west, the Alliance sent Idoneth and Sylvaneth hosts to seek out and get rid of the goblin forces known to be roaming the coastal plain. 

The Idoneth encountered the diminutive greenskins first, during a heavy rainstorm while the grots were hunting for relics of the ancient civilisations thought to date back to the Age of Myth. The goblins stood off as the Idoneth advanced, wary of being flanked by Namarti thralls. Their caution was warranted, as a less than observant shaman found himself alone against them. He was swiftly avenged however, as angry and hungry squigs quickly counter attacked and removed the thrall threat. 

More Idoneth moved up however, but every time the Deepkin forces moved up to assault the grots, the greenskins cut them down. As the rain lashed down and the plains became more akin to the ocean, the Idoneth were forced to concede defeat. 

Weeks later, the grots were assaulted once more by the Alliance, this time in the mists and fog of the coastal regions. Alarielle herself was determined to remove the forces of destruction from Aglia, a region she had already marked out for settlement by her tree kin. The immortal goddess of life transported herself behind the goblin lines and despite their savage defence, Alarielle easily dealt with them. As the rest of the grot forces tried to march through the mists, a horde of angry dryads cut them down. Decimated, the goblins withdrew to the north, leaning Aglia in the hands of the elven kin. 

Grot-skaven alliance struggles with the Blood Coast Alliance

The Battle of Alra’Sekh

The sun rose above the desolate ruins of the ancient city of Alra’Sekh in the forgotten desert in the southern lands of Permenia. The ruins of the city had long been left untouched. It was once a great city of an ancient race, before it fell foul to treachery or war. Countless treasures remained to be unearthed, guarded by curses and tomb labyrinthine structures. The city was truly lifeless, but this quickly changed. 

The Sylvaneth of Alarielle had arrived to the city, ordered by the Goddess herself to explore the ruins and find any magical artefacts that could be of use to them. All was going well, but the Sylvaneth weren’t the only ones who had been drawn to the ruins. Giant treelords and dryads were heaving stone away from the entrance to a crypt when the ground started to shake. The earth began to collapse in a few different spots, forming sinkholes that glowed green and crackled with fell energy. From these holes emerged Skaven drill teams followed by hordes of chittering ratmen and towering warp lightning war machines. The ratmen had not expected company but had clearly prepared for the worst. Last out of the gnawholes was the infamous arch warlock himself, Skreek the Deranged. The arch warlock was joined by his cohort of warlock engineers, who gave him worried looks clearly brought about by the host of Sylvaneth that stood before them.

‘Tree-things your crazy-mad excellency…’ One of the warlocks relayed to Skreek. Concern laced his voice. Skreek slapped the warlock with his heavy claw, dazing his minion and causing them to whimper backwards. Skreek strode to his stricken underling.

‘Tree-things?! TREE-THINGS?! Nothing will stop me taking my shinies from this old-ancient place. NOTHING.’ Skreek quickly composed himself. He was often prone to wild mood swings and his poor minions would often bear the brunt of it. ‘See to it that the tree-things are burned. Tell the lightning-shock artillery. NOW!’

Y-yes your malevolence.’ The minion quickly fled from Skeek to relay the information to the weapon teams. They had already began setting up the cannons when he arrived to tell them. The Sylvaneth horde was still a distance away but had clearly noticed their presence. The treelords dropped the stones they were carrying and stomped over to the frontline that had formed. The branch wraiths quickly sprang into action. They whispered their life-giving spells, weaving the energies together into their useful forms. Suddenly decrepit, gnarly trees shot up out of the ground and grew rapidly towards the sky, forming a barrier between the Skaven and the Sylvaneth. This barrier would not be enough to hold a certain being of legend however. Drycha herself had been tasked by Allarielle to oversee the excavation. Chaos in any form was enough to fill Drycha with an unquenchable, uncontrollable rage. She stormed through the barrier, striding effortlessly through the twisted branches of the trees that had been grown moments earlier. She then broke through the braken and faced down the line of ratmen before her. Unfortunately however she had not foreseen that the warp-lightning cannons of the mad arch warlock had fully powered up. The cannon crews, noticing her break out of the barrier quickly brought the cannons to bear onto Drycha. For a moment there was silence. And then, Skreek lowered his halberd and shouted at the top of his small lungs, ‘FIRE!’

The air was filled with the sound of the cannons powering up, reaching an ear-splitting level before they erupted into a colossal bolt of pure warp energy, soaring through the air with incredible speed. Drycha did not have time to react as the bolts of energy smashed right into her, searing great holes into her body and flinging her backwards with incredible force. A group of Kurnoth hunters quickly arrived to find Drycha crumpled into a flaming heap on the ground. Only Alarielle was powerful enough to heal such grievous wounds. The Kurnoth hunters picked up the smouldering remains of Drycha and returned to the front line. Once the remains of Drycha had been carried through, all hell broke loose. The site of such a prominent figure being carried through in her condition caused the anger of the Sylvaneth to boil over. The Skaven would have to pay dearly for what they did. Dryads, Kurnoth hunters and treelord ancients burst forth from the barrier with incredible speed, charging straight at the Skaven frontline. Skreek picked up his trusty monocular to assess the situation. He was met with the sight of countless tree-folk thundering towards them. The natural cowardice in Skreek came out at such a sight. It was clearly time to leave.

‘We must hurry-go now. Leave the rat-filth to their fate.’ Said Skreek with a snarl of anger. They had come so close to obtaining magical artefacts, ones which could aid them in their fights to come. The council then scrambled back into the gnawhole from whence they came. This venture had given Skreek the opportunity to come face to face with the enemy. From his observations he concluded that the Sylvaneth would prove to be a foe to avoid where possible. At least for now.

 

Gromrik’s Sky Fleet hold the Forces of Death

In the 5th year since the Sky Port of Barak Haraz sent its expedition to the Corexis isles, the Admiral of the Fleet, Gromrik Aetherson faced his most difficult challenge to date. Work on the kingdom of New Quemara (or Nouveau Quemara in the tongue of the free peoples) had been proceeding as planned, with work on the new coastal city of Côte d'Albret nearing completion thanks to the imported technology from the Duardin. Then, the forces of death began increasing activity in the valley of Lointaine to the north of the Collines du Nord. This was an area the Quemarans were keen to expand their influence into, and the free peoples had already sent an army to defend the settlers of the region from the undead, but the army had returned battered and leaderless from beyond the hills. 

Admiral Aetherson decided to send a scouting force across the highlands to see for himself the extent of the problem. In the badlands to the immediate north of the Collines the Kharadrons encountered a force known as the Sanguine Whirlwind. The malign vampires appeared at the head of a host of shambling corpses, some on skeletal steeds. 

The Kharadrons showed no fear, using their frigate and gunhauler to drop a force behind the enemy lines, and sniping one of the vampires in the throng of his force of horrific infantry. The battle swirled back and forth in the barren lands, but neither side seemed to be close to victory. Suddenly a rockfall interrupted the battle, as if the gods themselves were interfering in the clash. Both sides withdrew, and the forces of death remained unbowed. However the Kharadrons had held their own and proved their loyalty to the cause in defending the men over the hills. 

The host of Marrowcraw ravages north Nuevo Quemara

Maréchal Jean Le Maingre, commander of the Northern Expeditionary Forces of the Liberation du Quemara, was tasked with rooting out and destroying the nests that harboured the roving bands of ghouls that had, over the course of recent months, been terrorising the frontier settlers of the northern marches in Nuevo Quermara.

***

Prince Drágos Drázkhary, Voivode of the Marrowcraw Court, had turned his crusade south from the Tatterspine Hills. In his efforts to locate the Skaven incursions that had thus far eluded him during the quests in the north, Prince Drágos had dispatched rangers to scour the countryside. But far from finding the Skaven trespassers, the patrols encountered hitherto unknown border settlements of the upstart kingdom that called itself the “Liberation du Quemara”.

***

Leading the winding column of Liberation soldiers north-east across the Carmin plain, Le Maingre’s progress was blocked south of the River Sallowash as the packs of ghouls, until now having merely skirmished with the outriders of his army, began to coalesce into a massed host of the malign creatures. Le Maingre drew his columns in battle order, intent on a concerted attack to dislodge the ghouls from their foothold in the woodlands and so drive them back across the river and thus establish a defensible frontier.

***

Astride Hotspur, his loyal and trusted steed of many campaigns, Prince Drágos took to the air to survey the army arrayed against him. Alongside him flew his cousin, Yvan the Gaunt, Duke of the Splintervale, mounted upon the gloried fire-drake Warspite, called the Gilded Flame. On seeing the host assembled before them, the pair separated in wide, diverging arcs, seeking to press the attack against the cavalry squadrons that were screening either flank of the opposing army, and so isolate and encircle the main host of infantry in the centre.

***

Capitaine du Chevaliers, Charles d’Albret, on seeing the airborne monstrosities bearing down on his cavalry troops, knew that he must surely act quickly. Ordering the cavalry to advance, d’Albret – having determined the enemy centre to be but lightly defended - took it upon himself to charge headlong into the fray, driving his mighty war-griffin mount forward in all haste.

***

None could gainsay the dragon’s wrath. As Warpsite fell upon the enemy cavalry, man and mount were all swept aside by her rending talons and gouts of coruscating golden flame. Duke Yvan spurred her on into the massed enemy infantry beyond, even as regiments of militiamen in the livery of the Harrowcrag surged down the hill slopes to join the battle in ambush upon the enemy rear-guard. Across the field the valiant Hotspur had carried Prince Drágos straight into the fight against the heavy cavalry on the right flank.

***

“FIRE!! BRING IT DOWN!!” Shafts and quarrels darkened the sky as the Liberation’s contingents of archers and crossbowmen let fly once more at the cadaverous leviathan. With a final shudder the skeletal dragon crashed to the earth amidst the carnage it had wrought, and a cheer went up from the Liberation soldiers still holding the centre ground. But their relief was short lived. A second colossal, ragged shadow passed low overhead, letting forth a harrowing, ululating wail from beyond the grave. The last vestiges of hope left the hearts of all those still fighting – another beast was upon them!

***

Hotspur whinnied and chirruped excitedly as Prince Drágos brought him down low upon the ragged remnants of the enemy infantry. The noble steed had never shied from the fight. Today, as ever, had Hotspur shown his mettle in battle. Giving his mount free reign to enjoy his sport, Prince Drágos swelled with pride to see the marshalled discipline of the soldiers of the Harrowcrag as they marched upon the enemy rear to close the jaws of the trap. “Victory!” went up the cry as the foe was put to flight, “Drázkhary! Victory!”

 

***

“RETREAT! FALL BACK!” Maréchal Le Maingre gave the order, but feared he may already have been too late. Far in the distance he glimpsed d’Albret and his war-griffin still raking across the clusters of ghouls hunkering down in the scrub along the river bank. But the battle was lost. The hideous, blood-spattered monster rampaged unchecked along the lines, intent on devouring all in its path, whilst swarming ghouls moved to cut off the beleaguered Liberation soldiers.

Few would escape the slaughter of that day, at the place that would come to be known as the Charnel Fords.

Seraphon score victory against Doom and Gloom

In the 4th year of the Permenia Calendar the rat men and goblin kin of the northern reaches of the Corexis isles once again threatened the borders of Nuevo Quemara. The main armies of the realm were busy dealing with the forces of death, and it looked likely that the free peoples of Carmin, north of the hills that formed the border of the emerging empire of mankind and duardin in the south. 

Unwilling to let the forces of order succumb to the ravages of the alliance known as “Doom and Gloom”, the Seraphon once again received their orders from the Slaan who had been watching the growth of the fledgling kingdom in the south. They knew the cost may be high, but recognised the danger of allowing the forces of destruction to overwhelm the Quemarans. Summoning a war host of Seraphon, the greenskin menace was thrown out of the Lointaine valley, at least for the time being, and the Quemarans were able to halt the undead north of their borders. Satisfied, the Slaan returned to watching and guiding their new allies.

Forces of Death defeat Sylvaneth

CFD vs. BCA - win to CFD @2000

The Second Disagreement

The border between the two halves of Blightport was being patrolled by a group of heavily armoured squig riders. The mischievous gitz knew exactly what they were up to; looking for trouble. The loud clanging and slobbering roars of the beasts they were riding scared most of the surrounding ratmen away. However, the clamour did not escape the notice of a certain individual. Unfortunately for the grots, they had unknowingly stumbled across the territory of a warlock bombardier and he was not alone. 

The grots were alerted to the presence of the threat after hearing high pitched cackling laughter before being assailed by a storm of warpstone bullets. The grot on the biggest squig screamed and flailed his crude sword in the direction of the now detected enemies. In response, the squig riders began rampaging towards the skaven foes at full speed. 

Unfortunately for the lackey, he was immediately spotted by one of the grots as he scurried for cover. However, the lackey was crushed under the weight of the squig before being able to properly hide. The rat ogre proceeded to sprint towards and body slam the squig rider, instantly killing the rider and the squig under the sheer mass of muscle and warpstone augmentations. 

Meanwhile the stormfiend was still laying down suppressive fire, managing to kill a squig rider before being assailed by two other riders. The initial charge mortally wounded the stormfiend, but it managed to mow down one more assailant before being felled. The warlock readied his doomrocket and fired it at one of the riders. He laughed and squeaked excitedly before realising that it had completely missed its target.  

Amongst all the action, the leader of the grot patrol had a devious plan. Cackling to himself, he somehow managed to bend the limitations of space and time, allowing him to teleport behind the warlock bombardier. In shock, the warlock turned around only to be eaten whole by a giant squig. The last words he heard were “nothin’ personal kid ehehehehe”. Despite the skaven now being leaderless and broken, the rat ogre was still going at it. It violently ripped apart two more riders, leaving behind a trail of red mist and entrails. However, it was quickly surrounded and stabbed to death by the remaining squig riders which outnumbered him.

Marrowcraw defeated by the ratmen

“Vermin!” The hoarse, rasping voice spat the word as a curse that echoed across the clammy stone walls.

Grikk and the dozen or so remaining members of his claw-pack were thrust forward to the foot of the dais by their captors. Held in the iron grasp by a hulking, ogre-ish brute, Grikk fought, squirmed and even gnawed the creature’s fingers – but the rancid taste of its flesh was repulsive, and the wounds knit back together mere moments later.

“Indeed, Majesty” the brute prostrated itself in the shadow of the towering throne, ignoring Grikk’s desperate thrashing. “Caught raiding in the northern marches. We lost many soldiers on the field. The vermin attacked in great numbers.”

The pale figure perched atop throne snarled in displeasure. Grikk scented a number of the claw-pack letting free the musk of fear. Gathered about the dank recesses of the cavernous chamber were scores of hunched ghoul-fiends, the courtiers of the Ghoul king’s macabre household. They eyed the Skaven prisoners intently, malign whispers passing back and forth.

The gaunt King-creature drummed it taloned fingers impatiently upon one of the many skulls that adorned the throne. “What news of our royal cousin? Where is Prince Janos?”

 

“No word as yet, sire.” The brute bowed its head reverentially, averting its eyes from the glowering King-creature. “His Grace was last seen riding in pursuit of the fleeing vermin, flying Proudclaw north beyond the Splintervale.”

Grikk shuddered and lashed his tail anxiously. The dead-bat-beast that the creatures called “Proudclaw” was nothing short of a hulking colossus of tattered flesh and snapping jaws. Grikk had seen it rampage through Skreeq’s claw-pack before finally being brought down by the eldritch warp lightning of the Clan Skryre war-engines. Though, he could take little comfort in having seen the beast slain – even the lowest Clanrat knew that when the winds of Shyish blew strong the dead didn’t stay down for very long. The raids had yielded a mighty haul of warpstone but the ghoul-fiends had ambushed them as they carried off their prize. It had taken the full force of the assembled Skaven claw-packs – and cost the lives of hundreds of clanrats - to deliver the warpstone safely back to the gnaw-tunnels.

A hush fell amongst the assembled ghoul-fiends as their monarch alighted the throne to stand at the front of the dais. The captive clanrats shrank back further as the King began to rave, “We shall not suffer the vermin to plunder our lands!” Summon our Knights! Send out the heralds to every corner of the land – We declare a crusade!”

The court erupted in cheers of approval as baying sycophants sought to be the first and loudest to pledge their support to their liege’s decree. The King raised his hand in mimicry of flamboyant and courtly gesture, “Tonight, we shall feast! For tomorrow, we ride north to to avenge ourselves upon the verminous horde!”

Grikk’s blood ran cold; at the utterance of the word “feast” the ghoul-fiends fell silent, and the atavistic gaze of a hundred hungry eyes fell upon the clanrat prisoners huddled in the centre of the throne room. 

The silence broke with a hiss: “Feassst!” 

It quickly became a crescendo, ringing out through the cavernous hall, “Feast, feast!”

The clamorous, roaring chant was taken up by the courtiers. Grasping hands reached out to seize the screaming captives.“FEAST, FEAST, FEAST...!"