The End Times



"The Three-Eyed King has long awaited this moment, the hour of which his destiny is at last unveiled. He leads an army of madness and rage, against which no sane being would willingly stand. Perhaps I am not sane, as I will fight one last time. Not for victory, but for survival, for the hope that a spark can endure. It is a slender hope, and the laughter of the Dark Gods rings loud in my ears.....These are the End Times..."

- Prophecy of the End Times

The Ends Times (2521-??? IC) is the great cataclysmic apocalypse that was prophesied to bring about the end of the Warhammer World. It was heralded upon the arrival of the Twin-Tailed Comet, both an omen of hope and destruction, which signaled the coronation of the new Everchosen; Archaon the Three Eyed King, the Lord of the End Times and his bid to bring destruction upon the Human nations of the Old World. As the world endures its final, agonizing demise, the mortal races of the Old World are fighting to the very last against the encroaching doom that seeks to consume them all.

To the West, upon the distant lands of Naggaroth, the followers of Khorne are descending southwards with black-banners high, hell-bent on bringing nothing but ruin and destruction in their wake. In response, legions of Dark Elven warriors have been roused on the warpath, holding out against the blood-crazed hordes that are assailing at their very gates. Yet for all their pride and glamour, they will inevitably fail, for their King Malekith has abandoned them to enact one final gamble to reclaim the Isles of Ulthuan. But even within the land of his birth, the island-continent of Ulthuan is engulfed in a time of peril and tragedy, as a mist of dreadful power sweeps across it's beautiful land, summoning forth demons and other foul things from the very bowels of Chaos itself. With their beloved Everqueen gone and their proud Phoenix King dead, a young Elven Prince has arisen through the ranks to lead his people through this time of conflict, setting up a chain of events that will forever tear this mighty kingdom apart. Farther to the south-west, upon the distant lands of Lustria, the massive jungle-realm of the Lizardmen Empire, a new and deadly conflict has once more been reignited after nearly centuries of peace had endured. From the bowels of the earth, the Hordes of Clan Pestilen and all the Temple-Cities of the Lizardmen race will fight one, final apocalyptic war that will end in a cascade of total annihilation.

To the far East, the prospect of battle brought about by the end of the World has stirred the Greenskin race into a frenzy. The Greenskins have always thrived on war, always fighting each-other as much as any other foe. However a sudden urge soon captured the simple minds of their savage race as they felt something big brewing in the north. Soon, the infighting that has plagued their long and ardious history had vanished, and an overwhelming urge to unite upon one banner has made the Greenskin race united like never before for the coming, world-ending conflict. Even the Dwarfs, stout allies of the Empire and Sigmar's people, have felt this encroaching doom as they saw volcanic fire spew out from the Mountains of Mourn, resulting in the call for massive military mobilization the scale of which had never been seen since the time of the Great Catastrophe. Soon, artifacts of Old are being found, and the Dwarfs stood ready in their hopes of bring about a new Golden Age for their people as they seek to summon forth the Ancestor Gods themselves back to this world.

But it is upon the Human realms of the Old World where the fate of this world truly lies. Everywhere you see, all of Mankind is beset by evil forces both Old and New. In the southern realms of Tilea and Estalia, the mortals of those distant fractious nations are beset by a nightmarish hordes from the depths of the World below. Soon entire cities are lost as the Skaven race have once more invaded in order to bring about the start of the Great Ascendency and the final destruction of the surface world. Within the western shores of the Old World, the kingdom of Bretonnia, the land and her people are ravaged as a Civil War engulfed the once proud Knights of the realm, and two ancient secrets shall be revealed that would save this kingdom from utter destruction whilst the other shall reveal a truth that shall shatter their nation, their people and their very faith apart.

As the World draws its last dying breath, refugees by the tens of thousands have begun to flow like a river towards the Empire, the last bastion of defiance against the doom that seeks to destroy them all. To the north, upon the lost lands of Kislev, the Auric Bastion, the greatest magical wall ever created, loomed higher then the Bastion in Eastern Cathay, so high that it would pierce the clouds themselves. This great wall is the only thing holding the darkness at bay, and should it fall, then the final battle for the entire world shall take place, and to the victor's shall inherit the ultimate prize; the dominion of the Warhammer World.

In the End however, this world is doomed, and from the ashes of the Old, a New World shall emerge out of the Darkness, following a cycle of creation and destruction that has been long in the making.

Origins
The World stands in the brink of Annihilation. It has done so since the beginning of time itself, when the great Old Ones of ancient times were destroyed long ago. The Polar Warp Gates of the Old Ones, once a marvel of ancient technology had collapsed and with them, Chaos flowed like water into the cold harsh lands of the northern and southern waste. Since then, every few hundreds years, the Gods of Chaos will reach out their hands towards this dying world and demand a claim of it as their own. So it is fitting that a Champion of Chaos shall unite the warring tribes of the North and put about the End of Times as we know it.

The threat of Chaos comes in many shapes and forms, from the mutating winds of magic and the barbarian tribes of the North, to the vile beastmen tribes that lurks within the dark forest of the Old World. However, it is the corruption of souls, the pollution of ideals and dreams that is its most subtle and deadliest weapons, for within every person lurks the heart of Chaos. It is perhaps fitting then that the greatest threat to the Empire came not from a Kurgan Warlord, nor a Beastmen Chieftain, but from one of their very own.

This man held the name of Diederick Kastne, a highly devout and zealous Templar of the Twin-Tailed Comet, born scant few years after Magnus the Pious and the first Great War against Chaos. Though Diederick Kastner, the man who would in his despair take up the dreaded mantle of Archaon, was born as an Imperial in the province of Nordland, it was foretold in the Liber Caelistior, the dread Book of Divination penned by Necrodomo the Insane, that North and South would meet in the Everchosen's blood. And indeed this was so; for Archaon bears mixed Norscan and Nordlander heritage, his father having been a champion from the Varg tribes who forced himself upon a cowering innocent during a raid that had seen his birth-village of Hargendorf burned to the ground in 2390 IC. With the death of his mother, and the hatred of his step-father for his origins, the rape-spawned child would later go on to be adopted by a local Sigmarite Priest and become a Knight-Templar of the Order of the Twin-Tailed Orb, fighting valorously and faithfully in the service of the God-King Sigmar. But once his true heritage and destiny was revealed to him, Diederick Kastner despaired and looked for salvation, travelling many miles towards the heart of his faith.

Upon the massive Temple of Sigmar in Altdorf, the cursed Templar knelt before the Golden Statue of Sigmar and begged for a sign, to ask for his help from the darkness that has come to consume him. But the golden statue stood silent, and with it's unspoken words, the Templar knew that it was hopeless. He renounced the gods of the south but still affirmed his hatred for the dark gods of his father, accepting the cruel destiny engineered for him as a final means to repay the Fates for the evil they had done upon him. Thus did Diederick become Archaon the Everchosen, the Three-Eyed King, greatest of all the champions of Chaos. His deeds legend and his armies vast, innumerable foes of dauntless might lie bleeding in his calamitous stride. But deep inside, he wholly resented the Gods of Chaos and the misery they have brought upon him. Thus the half-Norscan warlord stood ready to fulfill his destiny and to usher in the end of all things, and in the very end, he shall come face the very God of his people, of all Mankind.

The Six Treasures of Chaos (??? to 2520 IC)
"Forged from the other world, six treasures shall he posses...Upon his head the crown shall see all, and open eyes will prove woe to mortal kind...Then shall he ride unto the World...Then will the World know that the last war has begun..."

- Prophecy of Fate, taken by the Book of Divination by Necrodomo the Insane

So it was that Archaon journeyed to the waste for nearly 100 years, searching for the legendary Artifact that would exalt him to his true destiny as the Everchosen. The first treasure he sought was a unique "Mark of Chaos", that bears the blessings of all four powers in unison. It combines all of the advantages of the individual Marks of Chaos, blessing the bearer with all their power. The first part of Archaon's dark quest was to go to the Altar of True Darkness in Naggaroth and offer himself to the Gods to gain their favour and recognition. He gathered a small band of Chaos Warriors he called the Swords of Chaos and battled his way to a citadel so tall it appeared to pierce Morrslieb itself. Inside the citadel, it was said to be blacker than even the heart of a Dark Elf soul, for when one of Archaon's followers attempted to light a torch, it was snuffed out instead by the all-consuming darkness. Archaon was unafraid, and marched off alone with his steed into the darkness. As he continued to march, an untold number of creatures had thrown themselves upon the potential Everchosen. In this dire moment, his loyal steed was consumed by these monsters, and realizing the death of a loyal friend he knew since his early years as a squire had boiled Archaon into a killing frenzy. Within a matter of hours, he was able to slay hundreds of the misshapen monsters that have infested the mighty citadel, until finally his sword-arm turned numb and the ground grew slippery with the blood and gore of the fallen. Rising up from the filth, Archaon reconsecrated the altar for the Gods of Chaos, offering up the hearts of the creatures that had crawled in and defiled it. When he emerged he bore the eternally burning Mark of Chaos on his forehead.

The next artifact he sought was the "Armour of Morkar" the armour worn by the very first Everchosen. It makes the wearer invulnerable to all but the most powerful of attacks, making the wearer nigh-unstoppable in the heat of combat. After leaving Naggaroth on a stolen ship made of black metal and pulled by a massive sea-drake, Archaon took leadership of a seafaring war-band along the way to his destination. They sailed to a mysterious land populated with savage half-humans. Neither sun nor moon had ever touched their pallid skin and after six days and six nights of battle after battle, the city of these creatures had been reduced to rubble. Archaon delved deep into their necropolis until he found the Tomb of Morkar and the armour he sought. However, as Archaon reached out to take it, the spirit of Morkar animated the armour and attacked him. The vengeful spirit laid down a relentless flurry of blows until Archaon cursed it in the language of the Unberogen tribe. The attack ceased for a moment, and Archaon smashed him aside, banishing the spirit of Morkar and allowing him to claim the armour as his own.

Then there was the "Eye of Sheerian", which is named after the Tzeentchian Sorcerer who discovered it. Although on its own it grants the bearer prophetic powers, when placed in the Crown of Domination its prophetic powers can be used to their true ability and allow the bearer to predict and avoid the attacks of the enemy. After claiming the Armour of Morkar, Archaon set out to retrieve the Eye of Sheerian. At that time it lay in the lair of the Chaos Dragon Flamefang, who valued the Eye above all of it's other treasures. Archaon placed his claim for the Eye by smashing his axe into Flamefang's head. Long did man and monster battle at the base of the Cliff of Beasts. Flamefang breathed fire and even swallowed Archaon whole, but the Armour of Morkar protected him from its acidic stomach. Archaon hacked his way out of the Dragon's gullet with the ferocity of a Flesh Hound, until Flamefang's throat was hacked to shreds and it died of exhaustion and blood loss. Archaon plucked the Eye of Sheerian from its place on the belly of the Dragon and hung it around his neck as his rightful reward.

The next treasure to be won was the dreaded demonic mount of Agrammon. Alternatively known as "Dorghar", "Ghurshy'ish'phak", "Yrontalie", or the "Steed of the Apocalypse", this daemonic beast was stolen from the menagerie of the Daemon Prince Agrammon in the Realm of Chaos. Archaon battled his way past the Daemons guarding Agrammon's palace and sneaked inside, hiding beneath a beast that was part man, part mammoth and part insect. Inside was every beast imaginable, and some that are not. Archaon tracked Dorghar through the menagerie by its sulphurous stench. When he found it he vaulted on to its back. The Steed of the Apocalypse changed shape and burst into flames, but Archaon was able to break it like a wayward stallion and escape from the Realm of Chaos.

Eventually he sought a legendary Chaos Blade, known by many as the "Slayer of Kings" which was the sacred blade of Vangel, the second Everchosen. He bound the Greater Daemon U'zuhl into the blade, and the millennia of imprisonment have sent it insane with rage and fury. It was said to rest at the top of Chimera Plateau, located near the roof of the world, where Archaon and his steed Dorghar has journeyed. The warriors battling around the plateau saw the determination and destiny of Archaon, and he quickly gathered a huge horde of followers to wage war against the Chimera's. They swiftly defeated the Chimera hordes guarding the higher passes where Archaon and his three companions climbed to the top of the plateau. From the top, Archaon looked down on the world, swearing that he would one day rule over all of it. Suddenly, what he had taken for a mountain behind him turned over in its sleep, causing a series of earthquakes in the lands below. Archaon soon realised that the mountain was actually the father of the Dragon Ogre race, Krakanrok the Black. Even he could not defeat such a foe, so instead he and his companions sneaked past the titanic monster, only to find that the Slayer of Kings was clasped into its chest. Prince Ograx the Great, the strongest of Archaon's companions, was able to lift up one of Krakanrok's talons high enough for Archaon to retrieve the Daemonsword. However, the Daemon bound inside began to shriek with deafening volume. As Krakanrok began to stir, Archaon thought fast and plunged the Slayer of Kings into Prince Ograx's chest. With the blade's thirst quenched with royal blood, Archaon was able to sheath it and return from the plateau to the cheers of his followers, carrying his blade with him throughout all his battles.

After many years of endless journeying, Archaon has finally gathered all Five of the Artifacts except one. Forged before the dawn of man, the "Crown of Domination" once held the Eye of Sheerian, but had since been lost to history. It strikes terror into the bearer's foes and gives strength to his very allies. Decades after finding the Slayer of Kings, Archaon still had no clue as to the whereabouts of this ancient battle-helm. Eventually Be'lakor revealed its location, planning to steal the crown after Archaon found it. The crown lay in the First Shrine to Chaos, high on an icy peak in the Worlds Edge Mountains. Be'lakor led Archaon up the mountain, the Steed of the Apocalypse carrying him over the most difficult terrain.



After a day and a half of ceaseless climbing, Archaon stood before the massive double gate that was the entrance to the Shrine. Through the gateway was a labyrinth filled with dire beasts and vengeful Daemons. Archaon was tested by each of the Chaos Gods to see if he was truely worthy to be the Everchosen. Nurgle sent deadly diseases that Archaon fought off with sheer willpower. Tzeentch created a labyrinth of crystal, but Archaon blindfolded himself and used instinct alone to navigate it. Slaanesh sent temptation after temptation, but Archaon resisted, never diverting from the path to the inner gates of the Shrine.

After passing through the inner gates, Archaon found himself on a narrow causeway surrounded with hellfire that scorched his skin and burnt away his hair. Suddenly, a mighty Bloodthirster of Khorne erupted from the flames and attacked the potential Everchosen. The Greater Daemon was strong, but Archaon drew strength from the Slayer of Kings and wrested the Bloodthirster's weapons away and strangled it with it's own whip. The hellfire died away, leaving Archaon gravely injured and standing in a simple shrine. A throne stood at the back of the shrine, with a withered corpse sitting on it. On the top of its withered skull sat the Crown of Domination. Archaon took the crown and, with his wounds healing and frame swelling with power, he held it to the heavens. After over a century of searching, he had claimed the title of Everchosen. All that he needed now was a coronation. Upon retrieving the Crown, the daemon prince Be'lakor performed the coronation that made Archaon the Lord of the End Times, and begins mustering the largest army ever seen by mortal kind. It was from that day forward that the last spark of Archaon's humanity was extinguished, and from now until the end of days, Archaon has finally embraced the destiny that lays before him.

The Beginning of the End (Late 2519 to Late 2522 IC)
"In the land of mist, the danger is closer still. Pride has ever been the folly of that shrouded land, and so it will be again. When the dragons fly as one, an ancient lie will at last be exposed, a revelation that will shake Ulthuan to the roots of its mountains. The mirror of light and dark will shatter, and Anearion's heirs will fight for the legacy of Khaine amidst the ashes of the Phoenix"

- Prophecy of the End Times

By the cursed year of 2519 IC, to herald the beginning of the end, the Twin-Tailed Comet soured through the night-sky like the birthing of a second sun. No mortal could deny its existance, for the comet's bright aura of light would illuminate the very night sky. Within the realm of Chaos, the Dark Gods gathered in the Court of Covenants, all Four Powers having agreed to put aside their differences for a time in order to bring the world to their rule. Soon, massive warpstorms broke out of the Chaos Waste in great numbers, and eventually swept their mutation down south into the mortal kingdoms of the Old World. With this sudden phenomenon, Warp rifts would suddenly open in random locations around the world, disgorging a host of daemons for mere moments before they once more disappear.

To the north, the Winds of Magic grows like a torrent down towards the south, and the whispers of the Dark Gods fell into every mortal ear. Very few could have resisted such urges, and soon thousands of Mankinds own people have committed atrocities unspeakable, following the whispers north where a great gathering was taking place. Within the walls of the Inevitable City, Archaon sat upon a throne of brass and bone and saw the chieftains and warlords of uncountable tribes lend their allegiance to the new Everchosen. Though these tribes crave bloodshed, Archaon was patient and bided his time.

Soon some tribes left south or fought against each other to quench their battle-lust, but Archaon did not intervene, for he knew that those that stayed their hands were the strongest of will and strength, and would follow the Everchosen to the very end. The End Times is upon this world, and Archaons hour of triumph is nigh.

The Wars of Reclamation (Late 2520)


As war loomed on the horizon, it was perhaps fitting that the first nations to feel the wrath of the Dark Gods were actually the ones, who had first stood against them, in the earlier years of this world's existence. On the massive island continent of Ulthuan, discontent ran rife amongst the noble courtiers of the Phoenix King. The Daughter of the Everqueen, Princess Aliathra was captured by the devious vampire, Mannfred von Carstein and taken to the nightmarish undead Fortress-City of Nagashizzar. The legendary warrior, Prince Tyrion and his brother, the mighty sorcerer, Loremaster Teclis, set out to rescue her. Though the brothers fought with great determination to save their beloved future Everqueen, the Vampire inevitably stole her away and vanished without a trace. Disheartened, the brothers returned to Ulthuan empty-handed. Worst was it for Tyrion, who was himself, the true father of Aliathra.

As the brothers returned, they saw their land ruined by war and destruction. The Phoenix King and Everqueen had vanished from Ulthuan's shores in mere hours of a daemonic onslaught. A terrible mist from the highlands of the Annulii Mountains had disgorged a daemonic host in unforeseen numbers. In the face of such peril, the Lords of the Ten Kingdoms immediately mustered their own mighty armies and began defending every village, mansion and Elven city with stoic determination.

However, the daemonic hordes could not be defeated by conventional means, like any mortal army, and they thus returned to the material world time and again. With the Winds of Magic blowing strongly in the north, the entity which anchored these daemons to the material realm persisted, eventually granting them enough time and strength to overcome even the hardiest of obstacles. The Kingdom of Chrace bore the brunt of the fighting, resulting in Lion's March becoming nothing more than a massive graveyard, with fields of unburied bodies stretching as far as the eye could see and the capital city of Tor Achare lying in ruins.

The resulting clashes between Elven and Daemonic armies led to the loss of thousands upon thousands of irreplaceable Elven lives and the only Kingdom to have any semblance of peace in this dire time was the fallen Kingdom of Nargarythe. For the mighty Aesanar, known by many as the Shadow Warriors, these daemons were nothing but one more invader to be cast into the sea, and soon refugees by the hundreds are streaming into the kingdom, feeling safe under the watchful eye of the dreaded Shadow King.

As the war continued, politics once more threatened to tear the Ten Kingdoms apart. Without the wisdom and guidance of Phoenix King Finubar and their beloved Everqueen Alarielle, the Phoenix Court soon fell into disarray, with Prince Imrik of Caledor calling for the election of a new Phoenix King to guide the war effort. None doubted Imriks true intentions for himself to be the next ruler and too many Elven nobles spoke out in support of his cause to have it dismissed outright. The salvation of Ulthuan came once more at the hands of Prince Tyrion. Though his shoulders were weary with burdens and his heart broken over the loss of Aliathra, Tyrion knew his kingdom needed him now more than ever, and so Tyrion faced down Prince Imrik and took command of Ulthuans armies. Those who would have opposed him were quickly silenced when the entire order of the Phoenix Guard pledged their blades and loyalty to Prince Tyrion. In retaliation, the enraged Prince of Caledor ordered his kingdom to sever its ties with the other Nine, but this proved a minor disturbance as Prince Tyrion still commanded a large force and a multitude of lesser Caledorian Princes still took up arms for Prince Tyrion.

With the Kingdom of Caledor isolated and alone, Prince Tyrion moved his armies north through the Kingdom of Eataine, pushing back one daemonic host after another. Driving his men onward to the point of fatigue, Tyrion fought on constantly at the forefront of these battles with unparalleled fury. As the Dragon of Cothique guided his army north, Tyrion and his host of Elves broke the sieges of several villages and cities along the coast, but as the war continued, Tyrion's heart and soul slowly began to deteriorate as the thought of his lost daughter and the disappearance of the Everqueen plagued his mind.

This burden eventually made Tyrion reckless as the Elven army pushed north, winning battles at Port Elistor, and Cairn Avon. However, due to his recklessness, Tyrion suffered a serious wound, one far too great to be ignored, during the battle at Cairn Avon and upon his arrival at the Siege of Hoeth, the wounded Tyrion was bested by his long-ago nemesis, the deamon N'kari. Close to death, Tyrion was miraculously saved by the valiant efforts of Korhil Lionmane and the determined onslaught of the Phoenix Guard, forcing N'kari to retreat into the hills. With the battle over and Saphery being refortified against new assaults, Teclis delved deep into the Library of the White Tower in an effort to seek ancient lore from the time of Caledor Dragontamer, in the hopes of permanently removing the daemons from this homeland. Whilst recovering, Prince Tyrion tried once more to make amends between Ulthuan and Caledor. However, Prince Irmik once more declined and ordered Tyrions messengers to turn back empty-handed. The refusal pushed Tyrion into a fiery rage and he ultimately denounced the Kingdom of Caledor as a legitimate kingdom no longer. This resulted in the remaining Caledorian generals finally turning their backs on Tyrion and head back home.

Not taken aback by his actions, Tyrion and the Elven armies once more moved north and drove the daemons from the Kingdom of Yvresse, and finally towards the enchanted forest of the Kingdom of Avelorn. By the time the Elven armies reached its borders, Tyrion was once more fit to lead at the front, and was now determined to finish off N'kari. With the advice of his brother, Tyrion knew that the key to victory lay with the Deamon Prince's death, for he was the entity that anchored the Daemons to this world. When his scouts found N'Kari, Prince Tyrion quickly rose from his stupor and took the army of Ulthuan on the march once more, trekking through the wilderness until they reached Moonspire pinnacle.



The Battle of Moonspire would later be told of, by the Elves, as the greatest battle during the Wars of Reclamation. Tens of thousands of daemons had flocked to N'Kari's banner, eager to share in his plunder, mayhem and glory. Arrayed against them was a much smaller force of Elven warriors led by Tyrion himself. Believing victory to be inevitable, the arrogant Daemon Prince ordered a frontal assault on the Elven formations, without giving thoughts to tactic or strategy. The Elven army however, fought according to a precise and highly calculated battleplan. Knowing that Moonspire Temple was a shrine to the Goddess Lileath, Teclis intended to use the magical energies of the temple, to empower him to cast out the daemons.

Teclis gathered his strength and, with magical energy spiraling around the temple tower, unleashed a brilliant storm of meteors from the blackened heavens. The mighty rocks streaked across the sky, smashed down upon battlefield and banished daemons by the hundreds in mere seconds, without harming a single Elven warrior.

With the Chaos assault now blunted, the Phoenix Guard quickly counter-attacked, led by Tyrion and Teclis themselves. As the Elven forces drove deep into the enemy lines, N'Kari had no choice but to finally confront the twins in combat. Teclis unleashed a hellstorm of moonfire upon N'kari, searing flesh and blinding the daemon with terrible rage. While charging towards the mage, N'Kari was interceped by Tyrion, riding his mighty steed Malhandir, avoiding N'Kari's attacks and inflicting a smoldering, deep wound upon the Daemon Prince. N'kari tried to retaliate ferociously, but his grievous injuries slowed him considerably and the Elven Prince proved too nimble.

Then, a host of Elven halberdiers came to Tyrion's assistance, distracting the Greater Daemon while Teclis unleashed another storm of moonfire upon it. As pain seared once more through the daemons body, Tyrion struck N'kari yet again upon his spine, forcing him down unto his knees. Without mercy or hesitation, Tyrion smited the daemons head from its body and handed it to Teclis. With the battle still raging all around them, Teclis and a vanguard of Swordmasters fought their way to the summit of the Moonspire Temple and laid the head upon its altar. Then, with a thunderous voice, Teclis began to weave a spell of banishment and the daemons, perhaps sensing their demise, howled with one terrible voice as Teclis intoned the final word of the spell and slammed the base of his staff down upon the daemons severed head.

As N'Kari's skull split asunder, a massive, deafening crack of thunder filled the skies, and a magnificent flash of light shone down from the heavens. Those who looked directly at it thought they saw the Goddess Lileath looking down upon them. From Moonspire's pinnacle, a great torrent of fire raced across the Kingdoms of Ulthuan, banishing all the daemons that still clung to the mortal plane, preventing the Dark Gods from intervening in the affairs of Elves for a time. The climactic defeat of the Daemon Prince N'Kari ended the Wars of Reclamation, but a newer, deadlier conflict waited just beyond the horizon.

The Fall of Naggaroth (Late 2520)
To the north-west of Ulthuan, upon the cold and harsh shores of Naggaroth, a second Chaos army of Khornate followers marched south from the Chaos waste almost at the same time the deamonic hordes of N'kari invaded the lands of Ulthuan. So it was that to the north of Ironfrost Glacier, the banners of the invaders were black against the storm-laden sky; the tramp of their iron-shod feet a rumble of thunder in distant lands. The armies of Khorne are marching under one bloody banner; with Valkia the Bloody following at the fore as she drove the Bloodied Horde upon Naggaroths northern defenses.

Even when the maddening cries of the berserkers or the mighty war-drums of their warriors filled the dark sky with deafening noise, the Dark Elves of the northern watchtowers seemed to have been caught wholly unprepared, for the Sorcerers within the Tower of Prophecy lay silent behind a shield of dark sorcery. The duty eventually fell upon the raven-cloaked border patrols that watch over the northern defences to bring these dire sightings towards the many Watchtowers that guard the approach south. Many of these scouts were overtaken by mysterious demons, yet to those that survived and arrived upon the Tower of Volroth, they were able to send the warnings to all the remaining cites before they too died of their wounds.

With the entire kingdom alerted of their presence, Ebnir Soulflayer, most trusted of the Witch Kings generals, rode out towards the Tower of Volroth with what force he could readily muster, only to find the fortress that housed 80,000 elite Druchii warriors lying in ruins. The Bloodied Horde has already breached the first of Naggaroths defences. With the path southward cleared, the titanic horde eventually split apart to seek their own individual glory's, whilst Valkia stood true to the path laid by her God and besieged the very capital of Naggarond itself. The splinter hordes that left the main body traveled eastward towards the shrine-city of Har Ganeth where they met the bloodthirsty warriors of Hellebron, High-Priestess of Khaine. Those hordes that journeyed southward were confronted by Malus Darkblade and the cold-hearted legions of Hag Graef, painting the Dark Road red with the blood of the invaders. Yet the pride of the Dark Elves have proved to be their folly, as time and again the armies of Naggaroth stood alone against their foes rather than united under a single force.

The city of Clar Karond could have been saved from utter destruction had Lord Darkblade's army lent his aid towards their beleaguered brethren instead of looking to his own interest. Many times have Hellebron ranted and railed for aid to stop the berserking invaders from breaching her very gates, but none have dared to awnser the call. Eventually her city was finally overrun, and in her bloody madness, the Blood Queen accepted her fate and gave praise to Khaine as she and her remaining acolytes filled the streets with blood offerings. To the north, what remains of Ebnir Soulflayer's badly needed armies have been wiped out after a failed attempt by the General to stem the tide of Khornate warriors, not out of a sense of duty to his country and people but as a chance of forgiveness from the Witch King's wrath. With their deaths, another large chunk of the Dark Elves already dwindling military reserves have been once again wiped out.

Miraculously however, in other parts of Naggaroth, some of the Dark Elven Lords knew better then most to squabble amongst themselves over petty grudges whilst their entire kingdom is crumbling into ruins. Upon the port-city of Karond Kar, the war-fleets of both Lokhir Fellheart and Drane Brackblood finally put aside their differences and joined forces to blockade the harbours from the impending armada's of longships heading towards their city. Though they made the coastal bay a graveyard of broken ships, there were simply far to many of them to sink and soon they finally made landfall upon the harbours and shores of the city. Even then the city could have held firm if it weren't for a mysterious earthquake shattering the outer walls of the city, and the sudden appearance of an entire Skaven army coming up from the city's underground catacombs. Caught between two armies, the city inhabitants were forced to flee to open sea. With the loss of Karond Kar, three cities have been conquered by the bloodied horde, leaving only three cities left standing.

Within the capital city of Naggarond, the absence of the Witch King to take command of Naggaroth's armies has resulted in General Kouran Darkhand, Master of the Black Guards, to take command of the city defenses, where he fought Valkia twice in single-combat. Lacking the tactical genius to break the siege, the Lords and Ladies of the Black Council were torn with civil strife. After three months of constant siege, Malekith once more returned with the dried blood of Finubar in his hands. Taking in the perils of his kingdom, Malekith rode with his dragon Seraphon and pushed back the Bloodied Horde from Naggarond's gates. With much of Naggaroth lying in ruin, Malekith was forced to delay his intended invasion of Ulthuan and recall his invasion fleet back into harbor to be disembarked and armed for an upcoming counter-attack.

Following his victory, Malekith met with the remaining Dark Elven leaders and laid out the plans for the forthcoming campaign in the north. He personally appointed Lord Darkblade to take command of an expedition towards the Tower of Prophecy to find out what has happened there. However, Lord Darkblade feared greatly the powers of Lady Morathi and begged the Witch King to change his mind. He did, and Lord Darkblade was reassigned south to protect and escort the broken refugees back into the safety of Hag Graef. So the task then was set upon Malekith once again as he rode north to face his mother in person.

Though nearly one-third of Malekith's army was lost on the journey, the Witch King continued on with silent determination, going as far as to isolate himself from his generals. Some forty leagues short of Ghrond, Malekith's army was blocked by a massive horde of Daemons led by a mighty Bloodthirster of Khorne. Though powerful, the Witch King could not be denied entrance, and with the daemon's defeat, Malekith entered the Tower and met with his mother in person. Morathi had told her son that the End Times is nigh and that upon the shores of Ulthaun his destiny awaited him. However, Morathi warned that should he pursue this path, should he return to the lands of his birth, it shall destroy everything that has ever made him her son. Prideful to the last, Malekith abandoned his mother and gathered what remains of his entire people to set sail on a fleet of Warships so massive that it stretched from horizon to horizon. Thus upon the same hour that Teclis banished the daemons from the shores of Ulthuan did the last great host of Naggarth embarked upon their fleet of Black Arks. Without a backwards glance to his burning Kingdom, Malekith looked fixed upon the land of Ulthuan, determined that this time, there is no going back.

The Great Darkness (Late 2522 to Mid 2523 IC)
"Mankind does not recognise its doom - not yet. They only hear the drums in the north, and know that war is coming. Some will fight. Others will abandon reason, seeking salvation in scripture or the scourge. They are deceived. The Dark Gods are stronger than ever before, and the old gods fade. Only in death will any respite be found"

- Prophecy of the End Times

By the year of 2522 IC, what remains of the Elven Kingdoms have begun to slowly rebuild and refortify their holdings as they believe that this incursion was but a precursor to an ever more horrific invasion within the coming years. Though the nations of Mankind still grows ignorant of this coming conflict, such accusation was not ill-founded by the more wiser and older nations within the World, for they too have witnessed this apocalypse before, and readied themselves for what is to come.

Within the very heart of the Dwarfen kingdoms of Karaz Ankor, all the remaining Dwarf Kings have gathered upon the ancestral halls of Karaz-a-Karak and argue on what course of action they should take to ensure the survival of their civilization. King Kazador of Karak Azul has argued that they should bar the Dwarf Holds from the outside and leave the World to it's fate like their ancestors have done many lifetimes ago. Many within the Court favoured Kazador's plan, but High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer disagreed on such a cowardly action, supported by both King Ungrim Ironfist of Karak Kadrin and King Belegar of Karak Eight Peaks. Divided upon the issue, King Kazador in his pride still kept to his word and began preparations to bar his hold from the outside world, with several of the other Dwarf Kings following suite. Unable to unite his people, Thorgrim grew weary as reports have shown that their underground enemies have stopped their ceaseless attacking, a dark omen that would be the precursor to an imminent invasion on a grand scale never before seen in their history.

To the far south, upon the sand-encrusted temples of Nehekhara, King Settra, greatest of the Tomb Kings have awoken himself from his deep slumber, foreseeing the shifting in the Winds of Magic that carried with it tidings of war and change. Seeing through the visions of bloodshed and misery, Settra witnessed the resurrection of an ancient and terrible enemy and knew that an awakening had to begin. With haste, the Mortuary Priest journeyed across the Land of the Dead, and awoke the Tomb Kings in their dozens, calling for the awakening of their uncountable legions. Within the Charnel Valley, the necrotects of that land began to empower the very stones of their statues into life, and within days a long column of stone warsphynx began their march towards Khemri. There the cheif-necrotect Ramhotep, with all his merciless drive, began his greatest work yet upon the walls of that ancient city. Upon the Great Mortis River, the Warfleets of Khemri have joined the armada's of Zandri, filling the whole Mortis Delta with warships by the thousands. In the Kingdom of Lybaras, High Queen Khalida met with the montuary priest from her throne-room and pleaged her archer legions into the fold. Soon legion after legion of Undead warriors have marched across the blazing sands, preparing the defense of this already formidable civilization against the return of their most hated of enemies, Nagash, the Lord of the Dead.

But it is in the lands of the Empire that the first signs of battle have taken place. From the cursed lands of Sylvania, an unholy darkness has descended upon that bleak and desolate lands, arousing the dead from their slumber and killing what little life still clings to its soil. An old enemy awakens, and Count Mannfred von Carstein has finally announced that Sylvania shall secede from the Empire forever.

Volkmar's Crusade (Late 2522)
"I hereby make eternal claim to that which is mine. Sylvania thus secedes from thy petty Empire, as do all who dwell within her borders. Mortal or grave bound, they are mine by feudal law, and let none dispute it. Look to the east and thout shalt find I have drawn a shroud of night across my rightful realm. In this way I demark it from thine own lands, where sunlight and hope are still welcome guest. Perhaps I will attend thy yearly feast of words someday, and feast upon thee in turn. Worthless and brief as you are, it would be a mercy. I predict little nourishment, and little challenge. For how can the great leaders of the Empire protect its borders, when they are barely aware of what is taking place under their noses?"

- Letter from Count Mannfred von Carstein, to the Conclave of States in Altdorf



Like many other times in the Empire's history, those who are far away from this dark omen taking place in Sylvania have little to fear, and even fewer care. However the ruler of that accursed realm did not hide in the shadows and bid his time like his predecessor, but instead made his presence clear to all when a winged creature dropped the crippled body of Witch Hunter Gunther Stalhberg upon the meeting table of the Conclave of States. Upon his mangled mouth, a letter was shown and read by Grand Theogonist Volkmar the Grim. After realizing its implications, Volkmar immediately ordered the Reikguard Knights to accompany his Arch-Lectors into the Imperial Vaults and recover the legendary Crown of Nagash from the clutches of Mannfreds agents. In the end they failed, and in grim determination, Volkmar announced to the Emperor that he would lead a Crusader army towards Sylvania and stop Mannfreds plan before it's too late.

Upon the massive steam-barge  Luitpold III, Volkmar and his crusader force of State Troops, Flagellants and Imperial Knights have made progress through the River Stir and made landfall upon the sandy shores of Lake Helsee. After beating back a surprise attack, the crusader army split up their forces and made their way towards separate locations. Under Volkmar's leadership, the first crusader army successfully retook the Imperial fortress of Fort Oberstyre after undertaking a exorcism on a grand scale, and immediately followed the second crusader army not far ahead. Upon Deihstein Ridge however, the second Crusader army was caught in a massive ambush by a caravan-train of Strigany nomads, but the timely arrival of Volkmar's own Crusader army had in turn ambushed the Strigany ambushers. After interrogating a Strigany sharpshooter for the whereabouts of Mannfreds base of operations, the Crusader army continued their march towards the town of Swartzhafen.

After crossing the fordable point of the Unterwald River, the men under the stern leadership of Witch Hunter Alberich von Korden arrived within the outskirts of Swartzhafen in little time. Upon their arrival, the Crusader army saw the Undead armies of Necromancer Ghorst and Count Mannfred himself blocking the entrance into the town. The Vampire mockingly tried to parley with the Grand Theogonist, but was cut short when Volkmar ordered the attack. Holding firm, the Crusader army was able to hold on against the Undead onslaught until Mannfred left the battlefield after witnessing something happening within the Vargavian Mountains. Pressing forward, the battered crusader army pursued Mannfred along the Sternieste Road, making headways towards Castle Sternieste and the suppose power-base of Count Mannfred. Along the way, the Crusader army was met by the Imperial Armies of Altdorf and a band of Light Order Wizards tending their Luminark of Hysh, coming to reinforce them for the upcoming conflict in Castle Sternieste, now coined by as the Imperials as the Battle of the Burrows.

Despite the lack of proper terrain, the Crusader army nonetheless attacked the Undead defenders with fierce zeal. Whole battleline of Flagellants and Zealots hurled themselves headlong onto the Undead forces stationed below the hill as illuminating lights were shot off into the air by a battering of Helstorm Rocket. The Undead counter-attacked, with a small force heading directly into the path of the Light Wizards and their magnificent Luminark. In response, the Luminark sprayed golden light upon the enemy lines and seared a gap in their defences. On the right flank, a host of Demigryph Knights under the leadership of Lupio Blaze struck the Undead, forcing Mannfred to personally intervene.

Suddenly, high above the castle battlements, a palanquin of spectres carried a terrifying artifact that began to suck the courage out of the frontal ranks of Crusaders, eventually falling upon the Wizards as well, killing their highly-intelligent leader, Jovi Sunscryer. Miraculously, a bright flare of light burst out from the wizards blackened robes, and the reincarnated angel of Sunscryer once more fought the spectres and wrestled the unholy artifact away from them.

However, the Crusader army was ultimately ripe for slaughter as hidden undead forces lead by the undead King Verek, sprung out of the burrows and encircled the doomed crusaders. Just when all hope seemed lost, suddenly, miraculously, the earth burst open in a hundred different places. This time it was not the dead that emerged, but the buried symbols of the faithful. Stolen sigil-hammers, steel wolf totems of Ulric, Morrite pennies, even brass suns of Myrmidia burst out of their earthy graves to hang at head height across the field, each glowing with raw magical power. Thanks to the efforts of Balthasar Gelt, a torrent of light flared out and obliterated the remaining undead forces, whilst simultaneously healing the sick and wounded in mere seconds. With renewed vigour, the remaining crusaders cut down the last of the Undead, and cried out in victory. But as the Crusaders walk amongst the carnage of the battlefield, a cold chill began to run through the Imperial ranks as they saw the battered remains of the War Altar of Sigmar in the ground, with Volkmar no where to be seen.

The Great Uprising (Late 2522)
"Thirteen times thirteen passes of the Chaos moon I will give you. Thirteen times thirteen moons I will wait. Go to your legions and your workshops! Bring me victory. Bring me dominance over this mortal realm! You must be as one, work as one, as single-minded as a swarm pouring from a cracked sewer-pipe – all rats scurry-flood in same direction. Only then will you inherit the ruins of this world, only then will you rule. Thirteen times thirteen moons! Fail, and all will suffer the fate of the seer."

- Edict of the Horned Rat



As the world was engulfed in a time of conflict, such an opportunity for great plunder and glory to be won was consider a far too tempting a prize to ignore for the vermin hordes of the great Under-Empire. Prior to their inevitable and destructive invasion of the surface world, the Order of the Grey Seers under the leadership of Seerlord Kritislik proposed to the Lords of Decay a masterful plan. It was theorised by the earliest generations of Warlock Engineers that the Chaos Moon Morrslieb is actually made entirely of pure Warpstone, proposing to the Council that he shall gather a coven of the most powerful Grey Seers and draw the Chaos moon closer to the world, allowing a greater influx of magical energies to the Under-Empires many spell-casters, and give the Skaven populace unnatural vitality. Approving the plan, the Grey Seers began their work, and within time the Moon slowly began to grow within the night sky, growing to such an extent that it has allowed the World's many spell-casters to conjure feats of magical possibilities that have never been seen since the Great Catastrophe.

Deeming the time is right, the mysterious Overlords of the Council of Thirteen instantly began the first phase of their Master Plan upon the human kingdoms of Tilea and Estalia, never knowing that from the Realm of Ruin, the Verminlords of the Shadow Council of Thirteen are toying with the threads of their fate, overseeing their motives and purpose and moving them one-step closer towards their ultimate victory.

The people of Tilea and Estalia has ever been a rich people of a fraction nation, two kingdoms so similar to the ratmen's own society that it beggars the question of their origins. Yet no matter how many times they see these vile vermin, no matter how many attacks and raids were sent upon their cities, they still try their best to deny such existence, and this strong sense of disbelief have brought about the seeds of their doom. In a single evening, the assassins of Clan Eshin and their most elite of agents, The Black 13 were responsible for Tilea's Night of One Thousand Terrors -- a shock wave of assassination and ruthless sabotage that resulted in the deaths of hundreds of important generals, governors, nobles and leading officials. Leaderless, the lands of Tilea and her various fractious republics became torn with confusion and civil strife, making their petty kingdoms ripe for a slaughter.

Beneath every sleeping city, beneath every town and mighty fortress, the Skaven hordes surged out of their tunnels in their tens of thousands and brought about a wave of sudden violence and destruction that eventually overwhelmed the rule of Mankind's kingdoms. Under-tunnelled and overrun, every major city was now a blasted ruin over which a ragged clan banner openly flew. The Skavens lost a great many of their warriors, to such extent that none could ever count the ocean of half-eaten bodies that littered the filthy streets of each and every city, but such were their numbers and cruelty that none shed a single tear for their lost kin, for they have many more and the fruits of their victory have brought about a new cycle of violence that would threaten their race once more in open civil war.

Soon the clans have lost their momentum, and began to fight amongst themselves for the bits of spoils that still remains unplundered. Spreading like wild-fire, all thoughts of surface invasion were lost amidst internal scheming and backstabbing. In desperation, the Council of Thirteen gathered quickly upon the Chamber of Thirteen within the capital city of Skavenblight, focusing all their efforts on diverting another horrific Skaven Civil War. But the flames of dissent have run deep within Skaven society, and like always, fingers were pointed upon each other rather then to stand together. The most accused scapegoat for this tragedy falls upon Lord Kritislik, believing that it was the Grey Seers who plotted these terrible misfortunes upon all the Clans. Indeed, many of these misfortunes were perpetrated by the Seerlord and his fellow Grey Seers of Clan Scruten, but as befit their nature, the Seerlord actively denies such claims, threatening the other Lords of Decay with divine intervention should they tackle this issue any further.

It was then that there was silence from all the Lords, none dare spoke and some bared their throats in submission. In his arrogance and pride, Kritislik believed himself in control, never noticing the dark smoke rising from behind his back until it was far too late. Their vile god, the Horned Rat suddenly appeared upon the Council Chamber and all the Lords prostrated themselves in utter devotion and fear. It was then that the Horned Rat showed his disappointment to his bickering childrens, and to the greatest disappointment befell upon the Seerlord himself. Long has the Seerlord been given god-like gifts of power, wealth and age, but Kritislik was greedy beyond even Skaven ambition and has thus wasted his favours for far to long. To make an example to his other childrens, he grabbed the Seerlord by the tail and slowly stroked a claw-finger upon his horns, giving one last bit of sympathy for his most Exalted of Prophets before he was sent to utter oblivion. Screeching for mercy, the Seerlord was hopeless as the mouth of his god opened up and was thrown down an endless gaping maw of terrible possibilities that saw him destroyed utterly.

With his demise, the Horned Rat gave out his last edict upon the Council, promising those that would fail shall suffer the same terrifying fate. With a crackle of green lightning and the tolling of deafening bells, the Horned Rat vanished, with the bones of Kritislik smoking upon the floor. Within fifteen skaven heart-beats, Lord Morskittar of Clan Skyre voted on removing Clan Scruten from their power, a decision that was accepted unanimously by the other Lords. Soon they left the Chamber quickly and went about preparing for the second-phase of their master plan.

Within an alternate dimension, the Verminlords of the Shadow Council have seen this great event unfold and were awe-struck at what just happened right then. Shadow Lord Soothgnawer, Demi-god of Clan Scruten was dismayed by his god's disapproval of his own clan, as do several of the other Shadowlords. Shadow Lord Skreech Verminking, greatest of the Verminlords was the one who spoke out and told his brethren that it is time to intervene upon the affairs of mortals as shown by their own gods actions. Most weren't so keen on risking both their lives and status upon such venture, but two were still willing; Shadow Lord Soothgnawer of Clan Scruten and Shadowlord Vermalanx of Clan Pestilens. Before their departure however, Verminking told the Council that the Grey Seers hold the true key to victory, and upon the swirling pool within the middle of the Council table, he showed his champion; Grey Seer Thanquol. Outburst quickly fell upon Verminking's decision, and a veto was eventually issued. It never passed, as Verminking pointed out a third supporter amongst them, with the warpstone eyes of the Horned Rat's throne glowing ever so slightly at Verminking's statement. Vetoes were redistributed and the motion was passed by a narrow margin in favour of Verminking. With the decision made, the Shadow Lords of Decay all left the Chamber and went about their separate ways.

The Northern Bastion (Early 2523)
As the Imperial year of 2522 IC comes to a close, the former province of Sylvania was ultimately contained from the threat of an Undead invasion thanks to the masterful genius of the Wall of Faith. Such things are, the Emperor's Council still considered Sylvania's independence as a precursor to a new campaign of terror against the Imperial rule. Thus, the Emperor felt that Sylvania had gone from an occasional dagger at the Empire's side, to an open threat that he no longer had the luxury of overlooking any longer. With the Wall of Faith containing the Undead from invading the Empire, Karl Franz took the time to order all military assets of the Empire into the Sylvanian Campaign, and plans to utterly cleanse the land from the taint of death once and for all.

However, just as the Emperor was due to depart in two days for the Sylvanian Campaign, riders from Kislev urgently came to Altdorf and gave the Emperor dire news. The Kingdom of Kislev is in flames. The armies of the Dark Gods have gathered in their hundreds of thousands, with the northern lands of Kislev awashed in an orgy of blood and fire. Boyar Syrgei Tannarov of Chebokov, warned the Emperor that the lands of the northern and western Bolgasgrad has fallen and are awashed by a sea of barbarians. Given the severity of the news, Karl Franz had expected the Ice Queen to invoke the terms of his old alliance and call upon the Empire to march north to Kislev's salvation. The Boyar made no such demands, but told the Emperor that Kislev is lost, and that the Tsarina is holding the hordes off along the River Lynsk not out of hope for her people's salvation but so the Empire might have time to avoid such a similar fate.

Gravely disturbed by the Boyar's statement, the Emperor quickly sent out hundreds of heralds towards the many armies of the Empire, and redirect them north to strengthen the northern defences. For the next few weeks, the entire military-might of the Empire has been redirected north in the tens of thousands, but as they force-marched their way through untamed wilderness, the armies were harried by a multitude of Beastmen tribes and Greenskin warbands springing out of the forest canopy. By the time the Imperial armies have reached their destination, only 7/10th of their forces have arrived intact. Even upon their arrival, the Imperial armies have been beset by a splinter force of Chaos armies heading south, with the armies of Ostermark and Talabecland barely holding them at bay.

One particular horde under Lord Vilitch, have broken through the Imperial blockade and besieged the Imperial Fortress of Castle von Rauken. Only a series of brilliant harrying tactics masterminded by Elector Count Aldebrand Ludenhof saw the fortress preserved from imminent destruction. With the armies of Reikland arriving just in time, Count Ludenhof was reinforced with nearly half of the Emperors personal army, allowing Ludenhof the strength he needs to relive Castle von Rauken from it's siege and upon the Battle of Lubrecht, personally place his long-rifle bullet in the back of one of Vilitch's skulls, forcing him to retreat.

Then, as the Twin-Tailed Comet reached its perigee, outriders from the front-line in the north have brought news that another grander horde of Chaos warriors from the Eastern Steppes are converging upon the Empire, a horde that far eclipsed those thus far encountered. Count Ludenhof's army, the largest Empire formation yet deployed in the north, barely outnumber even the smallest of the newcomer's forces. In Altdorf, Karl Franz redoubled his diplomatic efforts for aid against this new threat, but everywhere his messengers go, there are tales of battle and bloodshed, with the entire Old World beset by a host of dark forces both Old and New. Not even the stout Dwarves had the time and men to lend their aid towards the Empire, for they too have been beset by a nightmarish hordes from the tunnel depths. Soon, many began to despair, as nothing could stop the hordes from breaking through the northern defences.

Salvation came once more by none other then Balthasar Gelt. After meeting with an unknown visitor, the Supreme Patriarch had been given forbidden knowledge that would halt the Chaos armies in their tracks. With the limitless magical possibilities now available to the Supreme Patriarch, Balthasar used an ancient magical scroll that summoned a massive barrier which burst through the lands of northern Kislev, erecting a massive wall of stone so high that no winged creature could ever hope bypass it. Thus was the creation of the Auric's Bastion, the greatest magical wall ever created, and so long as the faith of the Empire's people believe it so, the Bastion shall endure forever.

Climax of the Bretonnian Civil War (Mid 2523)
Around the time just before Volkmar's Crusade against the darkness in Sylvania or the Wars fought against the barbarian hordes of northern Kislev, the Kingdom of Bretonnia was engulfed in internal conflict as a usurper from the fallen Dukedom of Mousillon rose to challenge the Knights of Bretonnia. Mallobaude, bastard son of the King, has long been gathering his own army in hopes of overtaking Bretonnia and claim the throne for his own. That time finally came by the Twilight's Tide of 2521 IC, when he rode out with an army of disgraced knights. Despite King Louen Leoncouer's calls for Bretonnia's armies to unite against this force, Duke Armand of Aquitaine rode out to face Mallobaude arrogantly, along with the Fay Enchantress, Morgiana Le Fey. At the devastating Battle of Châlons, Armand's forces were slowly overcome by the formidable host of Mallobaude and were on the verge of a massacre. However, the dryad Drycha and a host of forest spirits emerged from the Forest of Châlons and fought alongside Duke Armand. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the forest spirits left without a trace. The Battle was lost, and even worse, the Fey Enchantress was nowhere to be found. After the battle, the Dukedoms of Carcassonne, Lyonesse, and Artois defected to Mallobaude's side.

Though Mallobaude's armies were vast, King Louen had the blessings of the Lady at his side, and in due time the King had managed to subdue the treacherous dukes and bring their rebellious dukedoms back into the fold. A year into the campaign, King Louen felt confident that he could end this war very soon. However, by the time he met in bastard son at the Battle of Quenelles, on the Winter's Eve of 2522 IC, the King saw before him a massive horde of Undead warriors under the banner of Malloude and his new ally Arkhan the Black. Vastly outnumbered, the Bretonnian knights began to slowly lose ground until the sudden arrival of the Wood Elves of Athel Loren turned the tide of the battle. Though the battle had been won, at the final height of the fighting, the Bretonnian King fought his son in single combat and lost. With the fall of their king, the Bretonnian armies retrieve the body of their King and sounded the retreat, with the Wood Elves carrying their Queen to safety of Athel Loren.

By the last years of the war in 2523 IC, with the majority of Bretonnia's military all but defeated, Malloude began to offer a challenge to any knight who would face him in single combat. At Gisoreux, Adelaix, Montfort and many more, he bested all who came against him, believing himself unbeatable by any mortal man, as promised by the dark whispers of Arkhan the Black. Within the city of Couronne, what remains of Bretonnia's armies stood united against him. Though he outnumbered them greatly, in his arrogance he sent one last challenge towards the remaining dukes. To his horror, the challenger that came to meet him was the immortal Green Knight. Realizing his mistake, the bastard son tried to flee, but was killed when the Green Knight spurred forth and decapitated his head. With their master slain, the Undead forces quickly disintegrate and the remainder of his living armies were quickly overcome, with Arkhan nowhere to be seen.

With Malloude's body burned to ash, the remaining Dukes began to squabble over the ascension of the throne. Civil war was imminent, but the sudden appearance of Bretonnia's first king Gilles le Breton, as the Green Knight suddenly stopped the internal conflict. Given new life by the Lady, King Gilles stood beside his people as the first signs of the impending apocalypse began.

Days after Gilles' recoronation as Royarch, plague broke out in the southern dukedoms of Quenelles and Carcassone. Then came the Warpstone meteors, blazing across the night sky and landing in multiple locations across the realm. Within days, mutation began to run rife amongst the populace, and swollen by their numbers, Beastmen warherds by the hundreds began to ravage the lands without resistance. Shrines, villages and towns were quickly lost, including the Dukedom of Bordeleaux's capital city after it was sucked into a Warp rift. With a quarter of their population slain, another quarter left the kingdom and sought refuge within the Empire. Seeing the horrors that has begun to plague his homeland, King Gilles summoned his heralds and declared the last and most grandest Errantry War in their history. Within days, hundreds or thousands of Knights have flocked towards his banner, and began to mobilize to face the agents of Chaos in combat.

The Waxing of the Dark Moon (Mid 2523)


When the Council of Thirteen ousted the Grey Seers from their ranks, Lord Morskittar of Clan Skryre wished to shed further shame upon the grey-furs by proposing to the Lords of Decays that he shall finish what the Grey Seers could not, vowing to ensure that the sky shall shatter from a hail of Warpstone meteorite. As the launch for the main attack is scheduled to begin after three moon-cycles, there was left very little time to waste as the project for the Moonshatter rocket is due to launch.

Meanwhile, the Grey Seers, once emissaries and self-proclaimed prophets of the Horned Rat were now pariahs in the eyes of their kin. Some of the weaker-willed Grey Seers have pledged themselves to the other Warlord clans, taking the position as advisers and strategists rather then supreme leaders. Most, however were far to proud to accept such a fate, and in desperation they met together in hopes of finding a solution. Upon meeting, it was Grey Seer Thanquol who has proposed to summon the Verminlords into this world to help them recover their once formidable power. Outburst quickly fell upon poor Thanquol as the other Grey Seers blamed Thanquol for all the wrong-doings that has been done upon them, as something always seems to have gone wrong when Thanquol is around to see it. Stripping him of his status as a Grey Seer, Thanquol was mercilessly thrown into the streets whilst his brethren stole his idea for their own benefits, leaving Thanquol to rot.

Their judgement clouded by misfortunes, the desperate Grey Seers have gathered in their summoning chamber with nearly fifty-strong of their members present. Fueled by the raging Winds of Magic, the Verminlords slowly stepped from the tear between worlds and present the Grey Seers the advice they so desperately needed. With their questions answered, the Verminlords dissipated in a cloud of smoke and was lost from sight. Focused on their immediate situation, the Grey Seers began to follow through with the Verminlords advice and try to usurp the power of the Slanns and continue the ritual to bring the Chaos Moon ever closer to this world.

Suffering from disaster after disaster, the Warlock-Engineers of Clan Skyre have felt such devastation from their costly project that no other race could have sustained the level of destruction and cost brought about by these crazed scientist. But as the Chaos Moon grew larger in the sky, Skaven from everywhere in the world could easily feel the great powers that are being bestowed to those of Chaotic origins. Realizing that the Grey Seers had once again bested him with their mighty spells, Lord Morskittar was furious to the point of insanity. Enraged by the failings of the leader of the project, Chief Warlock Ikit Claw was sentenced to the front lines in the upcoming battles against the Dwarf as a death sentenced.

With their rivals defeated as promised, the Grey Seers continued their arcane struggle against the Mage-Priest of the Lizardmen Empire in a battle of both will, mind and soul. But dragging an entire moon towards the world was a monumental task that not even the greatest of wizards could so easily accomplish, and thus some of their own have dropped dead by the rupturing of their own brains, whilst the moon continues to grow either by inches or miles every day. The vast moon soon pulsated with an eerie green glow and as night fell, the entire jungle continent of Lustria was lit by its presence, and to those that look skyward, they marked the moon growing the largest it has ever been in the history of the entire World. Alarmed, the Slann Mage-Priest stretched out all of their prodigious mental powers in an attempt to halt the moon's approach. Minds that could move mountains strove to push back the looming disaster, as the very stars fade from the night sky. The Geometric Grid was emptied of power, and as the pressure of this magical duel took place, piece of the chaos moon have broken off and later rained down onto the world, whilst waves of chaotic energies washed itself over Lustria, where the Mage-Priest of all the Temple-Cities tries to hardest to advert the apocalypse that is sure to happen.

After much preparation and the continued approach of the Chaos Moon, the armies of Clan Pestilen and a multitude of other Warlord Clans were at last ready to reignite their war upon the distant jungle-realm of Lustria. Prior to the magical duel that has unfolded between the Slann-Priest and the Grey Seers, the trans-continental undertunnels has been reopened, each route widened to accommodate the great hordes of warriors, warbeast, and war equipment that have passed through it daily. For nearly a year, a steady river of supplies and infantry blocks have marched non-stop through the one-thousand mile journey to join the masses already gathered in key points throughout the surface of the jungle continent, whilst the Grey Seers still fought against the Mage-Priest for supremacy over the moon.

The Lustria assault was part of the overarching campaign planned by the Council of Thirteen to eliminate the Slann-Priest currently holding off the Chaos Moon's approach, and as such, it had the full backing of their considerable power. All the Skaven clans have lent away a considerable force in this enormous campaign, with the armies of Clan Pestilen bolstered by warbeast from Clan Moulder, siege-engines and Warlock Engineers of Clan Skyre, stealthy and deadly assassins of Clan Eshin, as well as legions upon legions of elite Stormvermin and Clanrat infantry blocks from all the remaining Warlord Clans.

Under the leadership of Plaguelord Skrolk, the first stage of their attack plan was to gather in secret beneath the key locations presented by the Council, such as the Temple-Cities of Itza, Tlaxtlan, and Xlanhuapec. Concealed by dire enchantments, the Plague priest of Clan Pestilen concocted a wide array of deadly diseases from the Cauldron of a Thousand Poxes to be used against the Lizardmen cohorts stationed above. The fumes became so deadly that the battle-hardened warriors of Clan Spittl and the entire Skrittlepeak Skaven Clans have died agonizing deaths. Those that remained immune to the fumes slowly became bloodthirsty for violence, and as the dark moon shone larger then it has ever been in the night sky, the climax of the magical duel was nearly its end and the awaited signal to strike the Temple-Cities would soon begin.

Blood beneath the Mountain (Mid 2523)
"Go to Karak Eight Peaks. Smash the beard-things. But not in Queek’s way. Queek has brains – use them! We will bring down their decaying empire and the children of the Horned Rat shall inherit the ruins. I will see that it is Clan Mors that emerges pre-eminent from this extermination. Finish them quickly. Go to help the others complete the tasks they will not be able to finish on their own. Clan Mors must look strong. Clan Mors must be victorious! Bring me the greatest victory of all, Queek. March on Big Mountain-place. It may take years, but if you are successful there… Well, we shall see if you shall age as other lesser skaven must."

- Lord Gnawdwell, Warlord of Clan Mors



Following their magnificent success at conquering and subduing the human lands of Tilea and Estalia, as well as the ongoing conflict within Lustria, the next phase of their master plan was to finally topple the Dwarfen Kingdoms of Karaz Ankor. By the year of 2523 IC, the often fractious clans of the Under-Empire have begun unprecedented feats of communication and cooperation that had never be seen on a grand scale since the beginning of their vile history.

Almost simultaneously, the Skaven of Clan Rictus and Clan Skyre came into an agreement and together cooperated their attacks against the holdfast of Karak Azul. The armies of Clan Kreepus has bought the aid of Clan Moulder and their dreaded warbeast as they began their lightning assault upon the underground tunnel-network of Karak Kadrin. Zhufbar is under siege by a confederation of lesser clans lead by the more powerful Clan Ferrik. Even the seas are not safe from the Skaven aggressors as the conjoined armada's of Clan Krepid and Clan Skurvy assaulted the the formidable coast of Barak Varr. Unable to break the siege, the Dwarfs were slowly isolated and unable to aid one another, a situation that the Lords of Decay have long anticipated. In his pride however, one of the Lords of Decay, Lord Gnawdwell of Clan Mors has decreed that no other clan shall take the glory of capturing what is rightful theirs, and ordered his greatest general, Warlord Queek Headtaker to finally end the stalemate at Karak Eight Peaks and bring the city into the fold for the glory of Clan Mors, an event that would herald the end of an eternity.

Following his arrival at the City of Pillars, Queek led a pre-emptive campaign against the Greenskin hordes of Warlord Skarsnik within his powerbase around Karag Zilfin, pushing them out of the Hall of a Thousand Pillars and into the other side of it's entrance, around the area known as Grobi Town. With the upper deeps secured from threats, Queek began the boring responsibility of inspecting the four clawpacks sent to reinforce his horde. Tempted to finish off Skarsnik once and for all, the Warlord slowly resigned himself and followed the orders his Lord has presented to him. It was only after interrogating one of his subordinate that he found out a dark gathering taking places within the Trenches. From the bowels deep beneath the earth, his subordinates presented to him the fifth clawpack, a horde of Skaven around a hundred thousand strong, all coming from around thirty-eight different Warlord clans with several thousand Clan Moulder war-beast for support, all lead by Grey Seer Kranskritt, emissary of the disgraced Clan Scruten who came to aid Clan Mors in their efforts to take Karak Eight Peaks.

Tempted once more to maim and kill those that irritated him with their presence, only the fact that Lord Gnawdwell sanctioned this operation and that his right-claw Warlord Skrikk held his sword-arm --reminding him about the deal he made with Gnawdwell -- did Queek reconsider. Leaving the formalities to his two subordinates Warlord Skrikk and Thraxx Redclaw, Queek began the journey back to his lair where he began preperations to assault the Dwarfs around the Citadel. After some time, Queek set his plan into motion by detonating large quantities of explosives around four of the major peaks, destroying Karag Nar utterly whilst gravely damaging the rest. With this signal, the Skaven sent nearly seventy-thousand ratmen against the first Dwarfen line. Hard-pressed, the stubborn Dwarves still managed to push the Skaven back by defending small narrow sections around the Halls of Reckoning and the Grand Avenue.



Infuriated with these setbacks, Queek gathered his Warlords and ordered them to send in the clanrats and stormvermin batallions to the front. It was only after he sent off his officers that Queek got an unexpected visit by one of the manipulators of this conflict. Verminlord Lurklox of the Shadow Council of Thirteen, came to the Warlord and told Queek that he has come to aid him in his final victory over the Dwarfs. Back at the front, the Skaven clawpacks eventually pushed the Dwarves out of their first line of defence, entering the Halls of Reckoning and breaching the first gatehouse. It was there that Queek found out about Thraxx Redclaw's treachery, and after disemboweling his former second-in-command, Queek ordered the attack upon the Halls of Clan Skalfdon.

Unbeknownst to Queek, Verminlord Soothgnawer was also manipulating this conflict into his own interest, and with the aid of Kranskritt, he was able to convince Warlord Skarsnik to gather his forces and attack the Halls of Clan Skalfdom in exchange for a part of Karak Eight Peaks. Accepting but not believing in the deal, Skarsnik made some unsuspecting alterations to the given plan and ordered his loyal companion, Shaman Duffskul, to bribe one of the mercenaries under the Dwarf's employ. When battle commenced at the Halls of Clan Skalfdom, the Skaven alongside two Hellpit Abominations rushed headlong into the Dwarfen shield-wall, with Queek battling Belegar in a deadly duel to the death. After some time passed, the Dwarves unleashed their hidden weaponry, and a horn signalled the opening of a massive gate that unleashed a whole company of Ogre Mercenaries and Mournfang cavalry upon the terrified Skaven.

With his army demoralized, Queek retreated with his scattered forces back in into the entrance only to stop when Queek believed the third clawpack reinforcements were coming. Just then, the ground burst open by Skaven drilling machines, but out from the hole came not the third clawpack but a horde of ravenous Squigs. Then out came whole tribes of Greenskins, with Skarsnik crawling out from one of the hole. With this signal, the Ogres betrayed the Dwarves and soon the three armies began to clash long and hard against one another. Salvation for the Skaven came when Kranskritt and the fifth clawpack emerged from a tunnel in the centre of the cavern, with a Verminlord in the fore. Using his magic, Kranskritt closed up all the Goblin tunnels, trapping the Greenskins inside whilst the Dwarves and Ogres retreated. With this, Queek and his remaining clanrats began the butchery of the Greenskins, with the upper levels soon falling into the hands of Clan Mors. In time, the Skaven hordes begin to slowly take level by level from the Dwarf and Greenskins alike. None could hope to stop them.

The Accursed Alliance (Mid 2523 to Late 2524 IC)
"I have seen the World's demise. Morrslieb, the accursed orb, waxes large. Impossibly large. The moon will fall, the oceans will boil, the mountains will break. To the stars some will go, but the stars themselves will abandon this world. The scratching beyond the walls can only mean one thing -- the vermin are here. It is they that gnaw at the grayed ends of the world. Ceaselessly they plot, tirelessly they agitate. Yet never once do they imagine that they too are puppets, moving upon strings they never envisioned. The worst is still ahead..."

- Prophecy of the End Times

By the year of 2523 IC, around the time after the end of the horrific victory at the Battle of Quenelles, the remaining Wood Elven combatants that have aided the Bretonnians in that battle began a quick retreat towards the safety of their forest. Just as Queen Ariel reached the bounds of her kingdom however, a strange sickness suddenly struck her and in desperation the Eternal Guard quickly brought her to the Oak of Ages in hopes of healing herself like many times before. But after a week, the Oak of Ages slowly began to rot as a strange decay began to grow amongst it's roots. This madness began to spread like wildfire all across Athel Loren, with the corruption attracting the attention of Beastmen tribes by the hundreds. Unable to cure her beloved, King Orion grew into a rage and found only comfort in battle, depriving the Wood Elf Council from the guidance and wisdom of both their King and Queen.

Mere months following Ariels sickness, a lone stranger came through the Worldroots and showed herself upon the King's Glade. Alarielle, Everqueen of Ulthuan presented herself upon the Council and pleaded for their aid to rescue her daughter, as she feared her child's fate was part of larger calamity that would upset the natural balance between life and death, a battle that the High Elves could not win alone. So saying, the proud Everqueen abased herself towards the Council and begged for their aid, an act that shocked the Council. Though the Council was divided about this, Durthu Eldest of Ancient knew about this coming calamity and with his advice the Council lend their aid towards their High Elven cousins, renewing their once ancient ties.

Following the Elven Expeditions departure from Athel Loren, to the East Arkhan the Black and what's left of his undead forces have reached the desolate borders of Sylvania, raising the Wall of Faith and continuing his march to confront Count Mannfred. A day later, the two adversarys met alone at Valsborg Bridge, with Arkhan demanding the recovery of a crown, a severed hand, and seven unholy books written in blood. Mannfred knew the intentions of such artifacts and immediately fought Arkhan in a magical duel. During the battle, a shaft of light burst through the clouds as the darkness that enshrouded Sylvania began to dissipate. Knowing that victory today would mean imminent destruction tomorrow, the Vampire struck an uneasy truce with the Lich. In exchange for Mannfred's assistance, the Lich promised the Vampire that he would be given power unimaginable if he served the Lord of the Dead loyally. With this accursed alliance, the Vampire and Lich returns to Castle Steinste and discuss plans to lift the Wall of Faith and march out to recover the remaining artifacts of Nagash.

Recovering the Artifacts (Mid 2523)
"You have read the signs as clearly as I. The growing powers of Chaos makes no distinction between the living and the dead. Nagash must rise, or our realms of silence will fall. And yours will be the first."

- Arkham the Black, offering Mannfred his unholy pact



Just as war begins to spread like wild-fire all over the known world, back upon the still silent lands of Sylvania, the first step upon a long and bloody road was soon in the making as the two reluctant Undead Lord returned to Castle Sternieste, where Mannfred led the Lich to the relics he long sought after. From the depths of the Castle, Mannfred presented to the Lich the remaining books of Nagash, the Crown of Sorcery, and nine captives all bearing holy blood. Arkhan placed his own two books upon the rest, and judging by the amount that is present, he is confident that he could recover the last three Artifacts with ease. By the time Arkhans preparations were complete, Mannfred gathered an Undead army on the western borders of Sylvania. There Arkhan sacrificed the holy-blooded Lupio Blaze, a Knight of the Blazing Sun who accompanied Volkmar in his crusade against Sylvania. With his holy blood, Arkhan carved a path through the Wall of Faith that surrounds Sylvania, allowing the Undead to pass through without harm. With the way open, the Hunt begins.



Once beyond the borders of Sylvania, Mannfred and Arkhan found it logical to split their forces up in order to recover the remaining Artifacts faster without attracting too much attention. Arkhan agreed to travel back west, to the lands of Bretonnia to recover Alakanash, the Great Staff of Nagash within the holy vaults of La Maisontaal Abbey. Mannfred on the other hand would head further south, pass Mad Dog Pass and reach the lair of the Skaven of Clan Mordkin. There Mannfred hopes to find the legendary Fellblade, a mighty weapon once used to kill Nagash in his original life, whose dire enchantments has ensured that should he be reborn once more, he shall grow weaker with each passing rebirth.

With their destination marked, the two went off to their separate goals. Arkhan did not head directly to his prize after parting with Mannfred, for he knew that he need more than the mindless dead at his command if he were to beat the Knights of Bretonnia. Thus Arkhan led his forces towards the foothills of the Vault, just south of the Imperial province of Wissenland. There he met with the infamous Lichmaster Heinrich Kemmler and his ancient thrall Krell. Having fought alongside Malloube during the Bretonnian Civil War, Krell and Kemmlers support would be instrumental for the battles ahead.

The three travelled deeper in the Vaults where within the web-strewn tombs that line the mountainside, the two Necromancers raised the dead of battles long passed. With his regime of Drakenhof Templars bolstered by fresh troops, Arkan marched north directly through the ravaged lands of the Dukedom of Carcassonne and Brionne. With little to oppose his advance, the supposively small army slowly grew ever larger as the dead of the lands stir to life. Despite the kingdoms state, what remains of Bretonnia's armies could not let such an enemy run wild in their lands, and so a force of Bretonnian Knights and Levies gathered under the banner of Duke Tancred II of Quenelles, attacked the Undead army as they entered the Dukedom of Brionne. However, the Dukes mad rage at the lost of his Dukedom and the hatred he had for the Undead proved his downfall as he drove far too deep into the Undead ranks where he finally fell in battle by his arch-enemy Kemmler.

With the lost of Duke Tancred II, the rulership of Quenelles fell towards his distant cousin, Jerrod Palatine of Asareux. Demanding revenge, Jerrod asked the prophetess Lady Elynesse for her aid in finding what the Undead are after. Finding out their intentions, Duke Jerrod rode with the remaining knights and met with Duke Theodoric of Brionne at La Maisontaal Abbey. In desperation to absolve a pass sin during his treachery at the Bretonnian Civil War, Duke Theodric in his zeal ordered to sally forth and attack the Undead upon the open fields.

Twelfth Battle of La Masontaal (Mid 2523)


Upon the night of the Twelfth Battle of La Masontaal, the armies of Arkhan and Krell marched against the armies of Duke Theodric and what remains of Bretonnia's valiant defenders at the meadows just a few miles from La Maisontaal. At Arkhan's command, the Undead forces began to form themselves into a single titanic horde that would be used as a rotting battering ram against the hastily assembled Bretonnian battle-lines. So tightly-packed was the Undead horde in front of the Bretonnians that it would seem impossible for Duke Theodric and his array of Trebuchets and Archers to miss their intended target, even against the dark and gloom of the battlefield.

By the time the first assault wave crossed no more than half the battlefield, that the Bretonnian bombardment suddenly erupted. A hail of firestorms soon burst upon the undead ranks as the sky was ablazed with a rain of fire-arrows and flaming rock. Even under the shower of enemy fire, the Undead continued their advance.

Arkhan and Kemmler used their combined magical might to resurrect the fallen dead as quickly as they were killed, and soon the attrition the bombardment inflicted upon the Undead horde was reduced to a mere annoyance. With the Undead forces advancing towards the line, the Bretonnian skirmishers fell back behind the first array of shield-wall at the front. Krell and his retinue of Wights were the first to come into contact with the enemy. Battered but unbroken, the peasant shield-wall held their line until a horn signaled the Bretonnian counter-attack.

To the right and left, a force of Bretonnian Knights led by Montglaive of Treseaux and Duke Theodoric began a pincer-movement against the enemy flanks. This attack troubled Kemmler little, for the true threat of this attack were the trio of damsels behind the embattled shield-wall, woving counter-spells to halt the two Necromancers resurrection spells. Enrage that a trio of woman would dare to challenge his magical might, Kemmler wove a counter-spell that conjured a lightning bolt from the dark sky, striking the damsels into charred bones.

With dawn rising, Duke Theodric still drove deep into the Undead ranks without noticing the damsels demise. From there the Duke charged towards Arkhan the Black whilst he was preoccupied with controlling his army, and with a mighty swing of his axe-blade, the Duke crunched through Arkhan's battle armor and smashed the necromancer to the ground. Before striking the killing blow, Theodric was attacked by the vampire Anark von Carstein, and was killed by decapitation. With his death the Bretonnians courage was shattered, and with victory nearly achieved, Arkhan surveyed the battlefield to find the Necromancer Heinrich Kemmler missing.

Upon the Vaults of the Abbey, Kemmler retrived the Great Staff of Nagash from its resting place and turned towards Arkhan as he entered the room, revealing his secret pact with the Gods of Chaos and his intention to keep the staff for himself. With a deafing crack, La Maisontaal exploded as a magical duel soon erupted within it's foundations. Outside the abbey, Duke Jarrod and a host of the elite Bretonnian Knights charged over the horizon and slammed against the Undead's rear-guard. But when the Abbey exploded, what remains of their resolve was shattered as rubble the size of houses fell upon them. Realizing that the battle was lost, Duke Jarrod signaled the retreat for the remaining Bretonnian forces still alive. As the blare of horns echoed throughout the battlefield, Arkhan drew himself up from the ruins of the Abbey and swept thick ash from his robes. With the death of Kemmler, Arkhan retrieved the Staff and began the long trip back into Sylvania.

Slaughter of Skullreach Cavern (Late 2523)
Around the time just after the Twelfth Battle of La Masontaal was won, the recovery of the second artifact within the bowels of Mad Dog Pass was well underway. Though the Slaughter at Skullreach Caverns would not be one of Mannfreds most glamorous of victories, it nevertheless was a massacre to behold as it has laid low a Skaven clan tens of thousands strong, perhaps even more. Such were their numbers that Mannfred committed wave after wave of zombies into the labyrinthine tunnels in hopes of mapping out his destination as well as to thin the ranks of the incoming swarms of clanrats. Saving his most elite core units in the back, the savage war of attribution has allowed the Undead to descend deeper into the lair of Clan Mordkin.

Skaven resistance to the encroaching Undead was sporadic at first, with those disgraced chieftains living in the periphery of Clan Mordkin territory, lacked greatly in both tactical skill and strong unification to properly halt their advance. Eventually the upper levels were lost as a the shrieks of dying Skavens echoed down the caverns and into the fortress-lair of Clan Mordkin. Knowing his realm was beset, Warlord Feskit rose from his throne and mustered the entire Clan for war. Gathering his most loyal and battle-hardened cheiftians into the fold, Warlord Feskit has amassed a massive force behidn the bone-gates of his fortress, promising those who are successful with great plunder and glory for him and the clan.

As the Undead forced their way deeper into the Mordkin territory, the bone-gates of the Fortress swung open and a horde of clanrats and stormvermin battalions rushed out and funneled their way into the tunnel networks. Warlord Snikrat, second-in-command to Warlord Feskit himself, leads his clansman deep into the tunnels and rushed headlong towards the tides of undead that stretch for miles and miles back.

Soon the gears and pipes that lined the walls of the tunnels were oiled by the blood and gore of the combatants as savage tunnel fighting erupted all around them. Though the Skavens were proven far more numerous than the Undead, the cramp conditions of the tunnels could only commit six Skavens at a time. Driven onward by the will of Mannfred, the zombies at the front ranks marched blindly into the Skaven spears and fought tooth and nail through the wall of flesh. Cornered like the rats they are, the terrified Skavens fought back savagely with claws and incisors, as they had no where else to run.

Yet no matter how desperately they fought, the Skavens could not halt the relentless tides of zombies pouring through the tunnels, and so little by little the Skavens were driven back. In desperation, Warlord Snikrat ordered in his elite Warp-fire Throwers into the front and showered the Undead with deadly warpfire. The tunnels were caught in flames, but the Undead did not feel pain like the living, and so they came on, blazing like torches and incinerating those Skavens around them. Realizing the tunnels were lost, Warlord Snikrat abandoned the lower levels with those Skavens following suite.

The fighting now drew nigh to the last defence -- a bottomless chasm that split the outer tunnels from the great cavern that was the heart of Clan Mordkins fortress-lair. Lighting the only rickety bridge on fire, the Undead were halted in their tracks. With this moment of relief, Warlord Snikrat ordered his elite Warp-lock Jezzail sniper teams into the front and showered the Undead with a murderous barrage of warpstone bullets.Undisturbed by this turn of events, Mannfred walked calmly through the barrage and used his magic to create a bridge out of the bones of the zombies. Within moments, under the hail of bullets, the bridge was completed, an a thunderous charge of the Drakenholf Templars have routed and massacred the Skavens to the last. Only Snikrat survived, where upon his return he was met with dire punishment.

Warlord Feskit was outraged, he expected his underlings to last longer than this, but with the lost of several thousand clanrats, Feskit knew that this battle shall soon be fought at his very doorstep. Over the hours, Feskit has unleashed wave after wave of clanrat and stormvermin infantry battalions, supported by a wide array of Clan Moulder warbeast and Clan Skyre weapons-teams against the Undead, enough to capture an entire surface city. But the Vampire and his Knights outmatched them many many times over, and those that lay dead rose up and swelled the Undead ranks. Finally, as the Undead were nigh upon the fortress very walls, the Warlord in desperation brought out his last and most greatest weapon.

Deep inside the fortress, upon a pile of plunder that rose high upon the ceiling, Feskit retrieved the legendary Fellblade from its resting place and walked out to face his adversary. As Feskit emerged from his cave, he beheld the sight before him with a mixture of rage and despair. The Fortress of Clan Mordkin has been breached, and the Undead pour through the gaps like an unrelenting tide, whilst the skeletal remains of a Dragon the clan has slain long ago, has arisen to life and wreck havoc upon whats left. Warned by an instinct of a life-time of distrust, the Warlord spun back and tried to slice the Vampire in half. Mannfred easily evaded him and in one motion he snapped the Warlords arm backwards and struck a blade in his gut. As the Warlord laid dying, the Vampire retrieved the legendary weapon and began his long march back to Sylvania as the remains of an entire clan goes up in flames.

Battle of Heldenhame Keep(Early 2524)


With the two artifacts finally acquired, both Mannfred and Arkhan made the long journey through treacherous territory back into the dust-filled halls of Castle Sternieste. However, the journey back into their power-base in Sylvania has only proven that their suspicions were correct. The World is changing, and the Forces of Chaos were on the rise once more to bring about this change to all corners of the World. This has been made clear to Arkhan when he made his journey back into Sylvania by marching through the Great Forest of the Empire in secrecy. It was in those dangerous lands that the Necromancer was beset by a multitude of Beastmen warherds tens of thousand strong, all coming from all corners of the forest, as if to stop Arkhan from achieving his goal. Even Mannfred could not deny such ill omens after witnessing the ruination brought upon the Border Princes by the Children of the Horned Rat. Reviewing these unlikely deamonic intervention and those that has happened to other agents of Nagash, Arkhan has come to suspect that even the Gods of Chas fear the return of the Lord of the Dead.

With their suspicion correct, and the realization that the darkness that has engulfed Sylvania is slowly dissipating following the death of Lupio Blaze, both Mannfred and Arkhan knew that time is of the essence. Quickly, Mannfred called upon his remaining Undead forces from all across his realm into a mighty army that would be needed to break through the mighty walls of one of the Empire's most grandest of Fortresses; Heldenhame Keep.

Though neither Mannfred nor Arkhan could care to admitted it, Heldenhame Keep would be the first of a series of difficult obstacle that lay before them. Heldenhame Keep is a fortress-city to behold, a massive metropolis that is surrounded by both an inner and outer wall, with a heavily populated city just outside the inner battlements. The key to breaching such a fortress lay within the hastily repaired western walls that was previously destroyed by Waaagh! Bludtoof just a year ago, which was now garrisoned by several batteries of Nuln-forged artillery cannons. Such a target proved obvious to exploit but Mannfred and Arkhan had something different in mind.

Upon the western slopes of the Imperial Fortress, Arkhan walked calmly towards the thicket concentration of bodies that had been buried during the Greenskin siege a year ago. The enchantment that rouse the thousand strong bodies was heard by the watchmen at their post in the western battlements, and bells and horns awaken the sleeping city into a frenzy. Commandant Otto Kross was roused from his drunken sleep and took personal command of the fortress defense. As the skeletons march across the field towards the outer walls, from behind them an array of bone-built catapults launched a barrage against the weakened western walls in between the Rosemeyer Bastion and Sigmudas Bastion. In response, cannon batteries upon the two Imperial bastions open fired and destroyed one of the catapults. However, a dark magic slowly reconstructed the siege equipment and the barrage continued again.

Unable to destroy the enemy catapults, the Imperial defenders simply stood behind their walls and endure the siege whilst Father Janos Odkier walked across the battlements and inspired the men. As the Skeletons reached within range, Imperial handgunners opened fire with scores of skeletons falling into shattered bones. But they as well reanimate themselves and soon formed their bones into a living ladder where scores of skeletons could climb up on. Soon the Helblasters upon Rosemeyer Bastion malfunctioned and without her sister-artillery's covering fire, Sigmudas Bastion was quickly overcome by the Skeletal assault. Father Odkier rallied the men to a last desperate defence, but he too fell as skeletal hands drove him down the walls. As the Imperial forces were losing ground, the western walls finally gave in and collapse, killing the frustrated Otto Kross and providing a breach for the Undead to march through.

What survivors that came from the walls formed up alongside Captain Volker and his own highly-trained regiment of soldiers. Though fear corrupted their minds, their hearts knew that they are the only things standing between them and their loved ones within the city, and so with a harsh battle-cry they climbed the slopes of the breach and held the line. Upon the eastern walls, trumpets blared as the entire brotherhood of the Knight's of Sigmar's Blood nearly twelve-hundred strong, rode out alongside Grand Master Hans Leitdorf and crushed phalanx after phalanx of Skeletal warriors.

It was then that Arkhan and Mannfred had set their plan into motion. With the entire Knightly Order outside the city, Arkhan withdrew from the battlefield and allowed Mannfred and an elite core of Undead warriors to strike through the breach and head directly into Heldenhame Castle. Though the Castellans of the Order fought heroically against the onslaught, nothing could easily best a being such as the Lord of Sylvania and after a bloodbath and the death of the Order's second-in-command, Rudolph Weskar, the Vampire retrieved Morikhane, the Black Armor of Nagash and quickly fled the battlefield. With his departure, the Castle was choked with the dead bodies of the Order and the shame that it brought upon the Grand Master has ensured that he will seek vengeance one last time before the very end.

The Dark Tides (Late 2524)
It is the year 2524 IC, and the perils of Mankind grows darker and grimmer with each passing day. The nation of Kislev, once the greatest horse-born nations in the Old World has been overwhelmed under an unstoppable sea of barbarians. The capital city of Kislev, once one of the greatest northern bastions ever erected within the Old World, with defenders numbering in the hundreds of thousands, has fallen, and the great Ice Palace of Queen Katarina has been burned to the ground. Kislev as a nation was gone; only the massive port-city of Erengrad still remains as the armies of Ostland fight desperately to hold her.

The battlegrounds have slowly crawled its way to the south, until finally the Chaos hordes were stop not by swords or cannons, but a giant wall of earth hundreds of miles high. Forged by the union of Magic and Faith, the prayers and faith of an entire nation has crated its foundations. Neither claw nor grapple found purchase within its sheer slops, none could breach through the mile-thick rock as it would swiftly heal any of its wounds instantly, not even daemons could stray to close to it, for the holy wall burns them with its presence. A great chain of ritual-circles ran from Erengrad to the West, to the fortress of Rackspire to the east, with Wizards and Priest funneling both magic and faith unto the walls to ensure its durability.

The military might of the Empire has finally been unleashed, and soon legions of Imperial soldiers march ceaselessly through the land, instilling order and destroying Beastmen hordes by the dozens. Pyres of the convicted and the damned lit the lands like wildfire as the Witch Hunters and Warrior Priest hunt down any at all Chaos worshipers with terrible efficiency. Whilst Count von Raukov and Boyar Tannarov held the small corner of Kislev around Erengrad, Count Ludenhof used his amazing skills of military organizations to hold the central stretch of the Aurics bastion, as several breaches were made upon the walls.

Within the following months, at last the artillerymen of Nuln have arrived and brought forth hundreds of cannons and rocket artillery upon the war-front. There they directed barrages of rockets and mortar fire over the wall and struck the tightly packed hordes with great ferocity. In response, Chaos artillery returned fire and the intensity of the bombards on both side did not let up. For many weeks this devastation continued until finally, a shift in the wind has occurred and a rancid stench soon filled the air of both lands.

Plagues struck both Imperials and Northlanders alike, and soon hundreds fell dead as the contagion spreads amongst the camps. Drastic measures were implemented as Ludenhof used fire to burn out the spreading of the disease, since neither medicine nor magic could heal the afflicted. Though thousands died, Ludenhof had unexpectedly halted its spread once and for all. But this event only signaled the coming of an even greater terror, one that has the potential to crack open the bastion once and for all.

The Lustrian Assault (Late 2524)


As the magical battle between the Slann and the Grey Seers continued, slowly but surely, each of the Slann Mage-Priest were strained beyond mortal fortitude and became comatose by the battle until only Lord Mazdamundi remained. Using magics beyond the ken of mortals, the eldest of the remaining Slann countered the fell powers of Morrslieb and the Chaos energies it radiated. However, the showering meteorites have breached his defences and struck the jungles of Lustria with a mighty crack, as miles upon miles of jungle were engulfed in firestorms. Before slipping to his comatose state, Lord Mazdamundi was able to limit the concussive blast cause by the impact, dampening the destructive force from reaching critical levels.

With their sacrifice, the moon grew until finally it didn't move any more as the Grey Seers invocations mysteriously became less and less powerful. It was then that an explosion ruptured the Bell-Tower of the Temple of the Horned Rat, killing the best and brightest of the Priesthood, naive at knowing that it was Grey Seer Thanquol who have formulated this daring sabotage after giving away the entire warpstone-hoards of his own former colleagues for the aid of Clan Eshin assassins. In time, Thanqouls ascendancy to power is becoming undeniable.

Even as the concussive blast waves flattened mile-wide swathes of jungle, great rents within the earth appeared as the Skaven hordes burst out of the tunnels and flooded the surface above. Lit by the green glow of the moon, the hordes swept through the scorched terrain like a sea of living fur, with the canopy's of the remaining jungles swaying with constant activity. Lights suddenly erupt in the sky as spells of banishment glowed brightly like newborn suns. However, these spells were only meant to hurt demons, not the Skavens, and thus the ratmen overcame their blindness and surged towards the first of the Temple cities.

The Fall of Tlaxtlan (Late 2425)


The first spearhead to reach their destinations was the assault upon the Temple-City of Tlaxtlan, the City of the Moon. Swarms of Skink warriors and archer filled the battlements of the city just as innumerable cohorts of powerful Saurus warriors formed battle-lines all across the city streets. Lacking any siege equipment, the first wave of Skavens crashed headlong unto ogre-sized stone blocks, crushing their brethren under the intense pressure of their incoming fellows. Plaguelord Kreegix the Reaver ignored the tremendous casualties and continued their frontal assault, with the first wave of ratmen eventually crushed to death by the incoming second wave. Again and again the waves continued, crushing the previous waves into a bloody pulp against the stone-walls of the city, until the piles of the dead had grown to such a size that the ratmen slowly ascended inch by bloody inch towards the ramparts. By the sixth wave, the walls were so flooded with the piles of the dead, that the ratmen quickly clambered over them just as the gates of the city were assailed by the now arriving siege engines.

Massive Plague Furnace were brought up upon the Gate of the Starpath, with enough room to place three of them at abreast. Hammering the gates like rumbling thunder, the gate eventually shuddered and fell wide opened, with additional breaches made upon the silver Moongate and the Black Onyx Gate of the Dreaming Lotus. The city of Tlaxtlan was breached in a dozen places, and the remaining cohorts of Skinks and Saurus warriors made their stand upon the very streets of the city. So mighty and diciplined were these cohorts that they were able to defeat wave after wave of the incoming attackers, a kill-ratio of nearly 10 to 1. But the Lizardmen lacked the necessary numbers to reinforce their positions, and thus they slowly began to give ground as the tide of Skavens continued onward. As the first light of dawn came over the horizon, the wide avenues of the city were flooded with the bodies of the dead, with the drainage system of the city overflowing with the color of crimson water.



With no Slann to guide them, command of the city fell upon High-Priest Tetto'eko, where he viewed the battle atop the Temple of the Eclipse. To the north, the Skink district was in flames, whilst to the west, swarms of ratmen were pillaging the Temple of Tepok. For a day and night the battle raged violently non-stop throughout the city, with the Skink attendants trying all they could do to help awaken the unconscious Mage-Priest. Eventually, the scattered bands of defenders were slowly retreating towards the center of the city, where the mountanious Temple of Tlaxcotl and the four Blood Shrines of Sotek were laid out.

Eventually, Tetto'eko had come to the growing realization that the city is lost and the only course left is to evacuate the remaining Slann Mage-priest back to safety. To the east of the central Pyramid, the Temple of Chotec was overwhelmed by force of ratmen several thousand strong, with the hundred-strong Temple-guards fighting viciously to hold them back. Time was running out. Unable to awaken their lords, Lord Tetto'eko reached into the Winds of Magic, and with the willpower of hundreds, the High Priest ensnared a roaring comet and made it hurtle towards the city. He then ordered a mass evacuation of the Slann Mage-Priest and the remaining defenders, ensuring that they rather see the city lie in ruins rather then in the hands of the Skaven. But the Skink attendants caused delays as they tried their hardest to bring every possible luxury the Slann might need, until finally it was far too late.

As the final Temple-Guard fell in combat, the Ratmen surged towards the inner sanctum, with hundreds more dying by numerous deathtraps and the last remaining Skink defenders. Unfettered by these loses, the elite Plague-Monks of Clan Pestilens scoured the temple until they found two of the city's Mage-Priest unconsious upon a cloud of rainstorms. Seized by their filthy hands, the two Slanns were carried out by the chanting Skavens until they were on top of the very pyramid, with the eyes of thousands upon them as the Slann was hoisted up and down in triumph. As the chanting grew to a thunder, the Mage-Priest gave one last frail wave of his outstretched hands before the Skavens devoured them whole.

Lord Tekko'eko looked at the distant sight and bowed his head in total dejection. Without a second glance, the High Priest and a massive herd of Stegadon and Bastiladon stampeded through the enemy blockade and made headway out into the jungle whilst the Skavens continued their mass looting and the killing of three more Slann Mage-Priest. Sensing that victory was near, Kreegix the Reaver threw forth the reserves, mauling the retreating Lizardmen rearguard of elite Temple-Guards under their leader, Lord Ax-Cha. However, within moments the Skavens looked up in the sky, eyes-wide as they saw a mountain of fire crashing down upon them. A meteor bigger than Lord Tekko'eko could have ever imagined slammed directly upon the mountainous Temple of Tlaxcotl, with such a force of impact that the city was obliterated entirely. Shock-waves and firestorms flattened the nearby jungles, which was able to reach the fleeing Lizardmen columns that were already miles away from the impact. After the destruction, the only survivor that were left were the Lizardmen column nearest to the magical protection of the city's last surviving Mage-Priest, Lord Adohi-Tehga, who had just awoken mere moments after the explosion.

Assault on Itza (Late 2524)
Following the total annihilation of both the City of Tlaxtlan and the Skaven invaders that were sent there, the remaining Skaven spearheads have redirected their remaining forces to attack the next series of cities that stood in their way. The second and most largest of the spearheads besieged the Temple-City of Itza, the First City and the capital of the Lizardmen Empire. Unlike the mindless assaults perpetrated by Plaguelord Kreegix during the Fall of Tlaxtlan, the Skaven armies under Plaguelord Gritch, the Great Potentate of Pustulates, and the newly promoted Plaguelord Grilok knew that such a tactic upon the greatest fortress-city in Lustria would lead to a genocide, and as such a different tactic was issued. With the cracking of whips, tens of thousands of slaves were brought up to excavate a massive moat all around the enormous city whilst several detachment armies plundered the nearby temples and watch-post located outside the city limits. Though half their numbers were sent towards Warleader Kroq-Gar and the ongoing daemonic battle at the Temple-City of Xahutec, the armies within the city of Itza are still larger than any formation currently engaged within the continent.



Outside the city, the Skaven armies stationed there have been continuously harassed by a multitude of assailants. Massive reptilean beast from the jungle-depths would occasionally rampage amongst the camps, killing dozens of the Skavens before dragging their prize back into the canopy. Host of Skink skirmishers and ambushers hidden within the jungles would silently infiltrate the outlying camps and sabotage everything in sight, as well as expertly killing those hunter-parties that were sent out to find them. Occasionally, flocks of Skink Terradon-riders would fly out of the city and shower the enemy with rocks, arrows and darts.

Despite these engagements, the newly arriving reinforcements of the Contagion Conclave have brought up the virus ammunition needed for their first assault, during which the reinforcements have just barely survived the numerous ambushes by Skink Chameleon on the way to the war-front. With the signal issued, the Virulent Batteries unleashed a barrage of the viruses upon the city outskirts throughout the day and evening. Virulent strains of the Red Pox, the Seeping Pox, Scalamundrax, the Oozing Eye Plague and several other viruses began to stain the outskirts of the city with disgusting pus. Tekza, Warleader of Itza commanded his cohorts to attack the plague artillery before the start of the next barrage. Yet after his troops began to die of the fumes, Tekza roared the command to fall back deeper into the city, where the enemies Plague-artillery could not reach them.

With their enemies retreating, the Virulent Batteries began to move slowly forward in order to infect more sections of the city. In response, flying cohorts of terradons were amassed and sent to wreak havoc upon the exposed Plague Artillery. Though several artillery pieces were destroyed, Lord Gritch ordered their reconstruction in quick succession, replacing their loses just as quickly as they were destroyed. But as the Skavens begin to construct siege-ramps to begin the assault upon the city, neither the Skavens nor the Lizardmens realized the swaying of the jungles behind them, nor the rumbling of massive footsteps that echo in the distance. Within moments, entire Skaven formations that were placed in the rear-guard were expertly hunted and quietly killed before they could sound the alarm to the rest of the army. With an almighty roar, a sea of massive snakes emerged out of the jungle canopy. Behind them came massive waves of red-crested Skinks clustered around hulking armored Kroxigors. At the forefront came a wall of Bastiladons and Saurian calvary stretching from horizon to horizon, moving with such ferocity that they left broken trees in their wake. As this new army lifted their bellowing challenges to the skies, dark clouds began to appear above and answered their roars with thunder-cracks as the armies of Tehenhauin, the Prophet of Sotek and Harbinger of the Serpent God has finally come.

Smashing headlong into the rear of the unsuspecting Skaven armies, the Red Host of Tehenhauin pushed the enemy forces deeper into the outlying moat. The pride of Clan Pestilens -- the Acolytes of the Greenfesters, the Cankerous Choir, and the speckled robes of the Rotclaws were all but annihilated within moments of the engagement. Before Plagelord Gritch could turn his mount around to face these newcomers, the thunderclouds above let loose curtains of rain that turned his massive moat into a sinking quagmire.

Beneath the hammering thunderstorm, the Skavens were being pushed back severely, and soon the verminous horde panicked and a mass route began. Many scampered clumsily backwards until they plummeted onto their own moat, drowning in their hundreds as they tried to escape. Those Skavens that ran for the jungles were picked off slowly as hidden Chameleon skinks sprung their ambush, ensuring that not a single skaven shall escape from this genocide. As the thunderstorm slowly died out, the Lizardmen fell upon their prey with great cruelty. They prowled amongst the mud-strewn fields like packs of jackals, stabbing and killing mercilessly at the helpless and tired Skavens that lay in the cold mud. It was only after not a single living thing breathed on that sorrowful field did the host turned their attention to the city of Itza. Lord Tehenhauin peered down the avenues of the city after the storms blew away the clouds of pestilence, concerned over the disappearance of the city's inhabitants.

The Mist of Xlanthuapec (Late 2524)
With the first two prongs of the Skaven invasion finally destroyed by the efforts of the Lizardmen, what remains of the Skaven invaders all converged upon the third and last formation of Skaven armies sent to capture and destroy the Temple-City of Xlanthuapec, the City of Mist. Instead of attacking as a single colossal horde, a rivalry between Plaguelord Skrimanx, Archdeacon of Disease and Plaguelord Blistrox, Spreader of the Word has resulted in two separate attacks coming from the north and south, hoping to penetrate the unnatural fog that forever clings to the Second City of the Lizardmen.

Plaguelord Skrimanx forced-marched his army hard to reach the mist first, hoping to grab the glory before his rival. Countless legions of Slaves made up the bulk of the broad front, chaining them together and equipping them with illuminating braziers to light the way through. With the crack of whips, the first Skaven army plunged deeply into the unnatural fog, where massive long chains connect the many different legion banners together. Within moments of walking, the dense undergrowth that usually cover the ground slowly gave way to a massive bog that ran knee-high. Neither sun nor brazier could penetrate even a yard into the gloom, sounds were muffled, and the humidity and heat rose dramatically.

With their heavy chains weighing them down, entire blocks of infantry and slaves were sunk into a watery grave. Those that crawled out of the deep waters soon fell to unconsciousness as their whole body became covered with bloated leeches. Skavens were disappearing into the gloom at an alarming rate, and the glow of their braziers danced unnaturally in the distance before being swallowed up. The magic's of the fog had made the Skavens follow these illusions in endless circles, long marches that left the ratmen scattered.

Struck by a strange feeling of dread and gloom, Plaguelord Skrimanx ordered the entire column to stop. Runners were sent out to find adjacent units but none returned. Only silence awnsered their brethrens shouted calls. Strange lights still bobbed in the distance, luring the Skavens farther away from each other. The swirling-mist had seeped into the minds of the army, and within moments the ambush was sprung.

Carnivorous Slitherdons rose up from the bogs to pull down hapless Skavens by the dozens. Massive Allisaurs lurk in the mist with their enormous cavernous mouths open, awaiting for foolish Skavens to venture in. Packs of raptor-like Troglodons emerge out of the mist and dragged the Skavens into the water. Worst of all where the Warbands of Skink ambushers who emerged out of hidden fissures and attacked the Skaven columns from all directions.



Blessed by their priest and by rubbing the juice of the pale blue lotus to their eyes, the Skinks were able to see perfectly through the magical mist. Desperate, what's left of Lord Skrimanx's forces made one last breakout through the fog, lightning up their flailing censers with flames to light the way, fighting across a field of half-eaten corpses. Emerging out of the fog, Lord Skrimanx and a handful of battered bodyguards were all that remained of the monstrous Skaven army. Lord Skrimanx gave a fervent prayer to the Horned Rat, not a prayer of deliverance but a curse placed upon his rival in hopes of him failing his mission as well.

Plagelord Blistrox and his army, the Pestilent Brotherhood, did not go unknowingly through the fog like their foolish brethrens, but instead used Warlock Engineer Reekit arsenal of optics to guide them through the mist. With the aid of these optics, Reekit and his band of Warlock Engineers navigated they're way through the mist and crushed the hidden Skinks that awaited them. After many hours of constant skirmishing, the army stepped out of the mist and into the wide-avenues of the Temple-City. Warnings about their approach reached the city's defenders and a battle-line of Saurus warriors, Kroxigors and Skinks formed in the streets. No time in the city's entire history had so few came to defend the City of Mist.

Lashed into a frenzy, the Skaven hordes surged like a crushing wave upon the Lizardmen lines, and with the aid of Clan Skyre weaponry, teams of Warp-fire Throwers and Globadiers punched a hole through the Lizardmen defenses. With a breach made, the Skavens crushed the defenders and began to converge upon the temples and the elite Temple-guards that lie in wait. Teams of Blackclaw assassins bypassed the slaughter and infiltrated the Temple of Eternal Serenity via a secret passage. It was there that the elite Blackclaws came upon Lord Huinitenuchli, but the legendary Saurus warrior Chakax, Prime Guardian of Xlanthuapec, fought the assailants off and closed the temple-doors once more.

Unable to break through the larger Temples, Lord Blistrox came upon the Temple of Infinite Circuits where he unexpectedly found Lord Hua-Hua, Visionary of the Third Spawning. As Lord Blistrox entered the room, Lord Hua-Hua felt his dark presense, and blinked several times before the Plague-monks dragged him down and ripped him apart. With his death, the unnatural fog around the city slowly dissipated into nothingness. Chaos soon reigned as the Skavens clans scattered and fought each other for the loot of this wealthy city, unbeknownst to them that a massive Lizardmen army under Warleader Kroq-Gar had answered the city's pleas and are only an hour away from arriving. Without hesitation, Plaguelord Blistrox, supreme commander of the Pestilent Brotherhood did what any sensible Skaven would've done. He gathered his Plague-monk bodyguards and left the city before the Lizardmen massacred every single Skaven left inside. By battle's end, the heads of ten Skaven Cheiftians and Warlords hung from Warleader Kroq-Gar's saddle.

The Slaughter of Eagle Gate (Late 2524)
As the Skaven and Lizardmen continue their apocalpytic fight of extermination in the south-west, to the north-east the lands of Ulthuan are once more assaulted by another ancient foe that many thought would never return. The full might of the Dark Elven armada swept out of the west on the wings of a thunderous storm, with the ships of Lord Fellheart leading the assault. First their armored ships struck the fortified harbours of Tor Inra and Merokai within the coastlines of the Kingdom of Tiranoc. In response, Prince Morvai returned from the Battle of Moonspire and swiftly rallied his kingdom's army and drove Fellheart's corsairs from the broken coastline.

But the cost was high, for not only have thousands of High Elves have given up their lives in the ensuring struggle, the Prince himself succumb to a poison from a Dark Elven assassin. Though this won the High Elves a great victory, these assaults were no more than a distraction to lure the High Elven armies southwards from the defensible fortification of Tiranoc's northern borders, and as the corpse of Prince Morvai was laid to rest in his family's ancestral tombs, the true assault began.

Under the command of Drane Brackblood, the Dark Elven armada swept away the High Elven patrols guarding the coast and prepared to make landfall upon its northern shores. Soon after, Brackblood's fleet disgorged their host along the lands of the Shadow March. Malus Darkblade was given the "honor" of leading the initial assault on Ulthuan, and led his Dark Elven forces towards the ravaged heartlands of Tiranoc by crossing the northern borders. In response to their invasion, a whole host of Shadow Warriors were sent to harass the enemy. Malus Darkblade was not hindered and continued on his march.

Realizing that they can't stop their advance, the Shadow Warriors sent word of their movements to Prince Yvarn, the leading commander of Eagle Gate. However, the fortified stronghold was badly mauled during the Wars of Reclamation some time earlier, with about six of the eights walls having already been breached. Unable to repair these fortifications in time, the High Elves were forced to bottleneck these breaches in order to hold the Dark Elves at bay.

When the Dark Elves arrived at dawn, their armies did not had time for a siege and instead made a headlong rush towards the breaches already made. Malus lead the first assault alongside the Knights of Hag Graef, weathering the horrible rain of missile bolts and crushing against the thin line of spearmen that held the breach. Prince Yvarn was commanding the troops in the ground, and with his leadership the first assault was repulsed. Enraged by his troops cowardice, Malus Darkblade punished his Knights with execution and afterwards made ready to lead the second assault. Instead of attacking the breach, Malus ordered his army to fan-out and attack across the entire frontage of Eagle Gate. The battle continued well over the night as the Elves battled each other for supremacy of the stronghold. But as dawn drew nigh, the Dark Elves once more retreated.

Furious once more for his soldiers inability to breach the defenses, Malus Darkblade was forced to call up his reserve and upon the third assault he ordered the Knights of the Burning Dark to charge headlong into the breach just like the Knights of the first assault. Unbeknownst to Malus Darkblade, trumpets were blaring as the garrison of Eagle Gate were finally reinforced with detachments of Chracian Hunters, Ellyrion Knights and massive Phoenixes from the Kingdom of Tiranoc. For the third and final time, the Dark Elves assault had stalled. However, in that moment, Malus Darkblade had finally succumb to the daemon hidden within his blade, and within moments his body was torn apart as his form turned into a monstrous daemon. Many Elves died by his hands and in desperation Prince Yvarn flung himself at the daemon. Though he fought valiantly, the Prince was beheaded by the Daemons claws, forcing the Eatatine Guard to retreat back into the breach. To the rear of the Dark Elven army, a host of Charioteers from the plains of Tiranoc began their charge to attack the Dark Elves from the rear. Confused and leaderless, the Dark Elves were flung back by the thunderous impact of the Chariots. Surronded on both fronts, it soon became clear that the Dark Elves have lost.

In that moment, beyond all hopes or expectations, the thunderous beats of a hundred Dragon wings soured through the skies, smothering the sunlight by their monstrous bulk. In that final moment, the tides of battle changed to the unexpected as the Dragons spew dragonfire upon the armies of the High Elves. The Caledor armies turned on the other nine, and soon opened the gates for the Dark Elves to go through. In that moment, the armies of Eagle Gate were shocked to realise that the Kingdom of Caledor joined the side of the Witch King. Though it hurts the Caledorian Prince to do so, they knew it had to be done, for a great prophecy will come to fruition, and through the blood and carnage of the battle, the Caledorian Prince knew that they had to pick the right side of this conflict, just as their ruler, Prince Imrik was told by his ancient ancestor Caledor Dragontamer to choose the side of Malekith. With the arrival of Caledor, the impenetrable fortress of Eagle Gate finally fell into Malekiths hands.

A Truth Fortold (Late 2524)


The betrayal of Caledor sent shockwaves all across the Ten Kingdoms of Ulthuan. Never before had the Elves felt such betrayal by their own kin since the time Malekith first attempted to covet the Phoenix Throne himself. Following the defeat of Eagle Gates, what remains of the Caledorian Dragon Riders allowed the survivors to flee from its ramparts, unable to bring themselves to enact needless slaughter. With their flying mounts, the Dragonriders perch themselves upon the peaks of a nearby mountain, like hungry Vultures looking evilly at the Dark Elves that encamped themselves from below, straining themselves from their impulse to rend and slaughter them wholesale.

The once mighty Malus Darkblade, now-turned Daemon Prince, is engaged upon a wall of spears shortly after the victory. In order to return the Dark Elven general back into the fold, the magically-gifted Sorceress, Drusala, secret agent of Morathi herself boldly stepped out of the ring of spears and conducted a ritual that say Malus returned to a stable state of mind. As the two Elven armies stood their ground, the Witch King Malekith had descended down upon the encampment alongside Prince Imrik of Caledor to discuss matters of grave importance. Meanwhile, Dark Elven General Kouran had arrived from the west, bringing many thousands of warriors with him. Moving quickly through the captured fortress, Darkblade reached the chambers where Malekith and his commanders now planned their second phase. From here, he abased himself before his ruler, claiming the Banner of Tiranoc as a message of fealty to Malekith.

Following the meeting, the Witch King met with Loremaster Teclis and Prince Imrik upon matters concerning their entire race. From above the meeting hall, a Dark Elven Assassin known simply as Shadowblade, secret agent of Drusala watched from a windowstill up above. Though the Assassin could hear little from the coversation, what had been said by the gathering was Teclis convincing the Witch King that the Rhana Dandra, the End Times is nigh and that Malekith's path will be the one that shall save their race from utter destruction. At first, Malekith refused to believe it, but Teclis insisted that the Witch King is not the Avatar of Khaine but rather, the one and true heir of the Phoenix Throne, the true chosen of Asuryan himself.

Elsewhere in Ulthuan, the news of Caledor's betrayal hit Prince Tyrion harshly. With a blackened mood, Prince Tyrion stalked angrily towards the Phoenix King's tower and ordered his chambers to be opened. Korhil, captain of the White Lion respectfully refused Tyrion at first, but after much thought, decided to find the answer for himself. For a full day, Korhil's massive axe bit at the wooden door of the chamber, it's magical enchantments slowly unraveling until finally the doors swung open. Even before it did, Korhil knew he had failed in his duties, for as they looked inside, they found the body of the former Phoenix King splattered all across the chamber. In the following day, the Elves of Ulthuan allowed but a fleeting period of remembrance for his passing, his body gently being steered across the Sea of Dreams by Chracian guardsmen in black cloak.

It was from then on that the Elven court had unanimously elected Tyrion as Regent of Ulthuan, and should Ulthuan survive another year, Tyrion will have the honor of passing through the fire and become the twelfth Phoenix King of Ulthuan. Following his coronation as Regent of Ulthuan, Tyrion began his duties as the ruler of his entire people. His first act as Regent was to imprison the remaining Caledorian Princes at large within the Kingdom of Lothern, then afterwards sent out armies to harry the Dark Elven assaults upon the Kingdom of Ellyrion. Though Tyrion wished to face the enemy personally, the Council of Princes didn't wish to lose two Kings in the same year, and so Tyrion was forced to allow Princess Ystranna of Averlorn and Caradryan, Captain of the Pheonix Guard to take his place. But the duties of kingship weighed heavily upon Tyrion's shoulders, slowing making his mood all the more grimmer. Most of all, Tyrion called for his brother, Teclis for his council. Yet Teclis was nowhere to be found, and each herald who returned in failure only served to deepen Tyrion's anger.

Within a week of his ascension to the regency, Tyrion was utterly alone; his friends and family were beyond his reach, and those who served him feared his wrath more than they loved him. Only Korhil did not fear Tyrion, for he sensed that they share the same burden. As the weeks passed, reports stream in that Malekith might be planning on striking the Blighted Isles and seize Widowmaker, the Sword of Khaine for himself. Riding roughshod over the Pheonix Court's objections, Tyrion at last gathered an army of his own and took ship north to the Sea of Dreams. As the fleet was being led by Sea Lord Aislinn, reports have begun to surface that Malekith had indeed crossed the mountains. This has now become a race.

Thus as Tyrion's fleet made landfall upon Elrost Bay, they found the seawalls held against him by black-banners. Though his generals wished to land ashore further towards Averlorn, Tyrion silenced them and ordered the attack. As the ships weathered the assault, Lord Aislinn let out a single beautiful note and from the sea's came a host of Merwyrms. As the ships made landfall, the Elven devastated the Dark Elven garrison as the Merwyrms made a blood feast of them. Marching northward, the host crossed the black-smoked ruins of Ellyrion. As dusk fell on the day of Twilight's Tide, the Elven host crossed the Pyradon Hills and down into the sunbeaten expanse of Reaver's Mark.

The Return of Nagash (Late 2524 to Early 2525)
"In that dread desert, beneath the moon´s pale gaze, dead men walk. They haunt the shifting dunes of the breathless, windless night, brandish weapons of bronze in mocking challenge and bitter resentment of the life they no longer possess. And sometimes, in ghastly dry voices, like the rustling of sun-baked reeds, they whisper the one word they remember from life. The Name of the one who cursed them to their existence, more than death but less than life. They whisper the name, Nagash."

- Translated from the Book of the Dead by Mannfred von Carstein

As the Imperial Year of 2524 IC wore on, there came a sudden and momentary lull all across the world. The war ravaged lands were silent, not a single Beastmen raid nor Chaos assault had occurred for one blessed night, and the kingdoms of the World have found a small and brief peace before the inevitable battle that is to follow. The Gods of Chaos paused in their fury and took stock of the changing situation. This calm usher forth fresh portents, and to those that had the wit to read such signs they spoke of a new player destined to walk the center stage, a being neither immortal god, nor accursed mortal. For one glorious day, it was as if the natural world held its breath for what is to come, and upon the next morning Chaos rose anew, the signs shifted and madness ruled once more.

Within the lands of the Old World, many eyes have bore witness pieces of Arkhan and Mannfred's schemes, but none had yet perceived the full extent of their works. In Couronne, King Gilles le Breton learned of La Maisontaal Abbey's fall and pondered on its meaning. The Council of Thirteen point fingers and sought scapegoats for the destruction of Clan Mordkin and the lost of the dreaded Fellblade. Both factions knew something dire is coming, but none could spare the effort to do something about it. It was within the lands of the Empire that there was one determined to act, vengeance drove him and hatred filled him.

A month just before Geheimnisnacht Eve, Grand Master Hans Leitdorf, brother to the late Elector Count Marius Leitdorf, has asked the Emperor for his support against the darkness that is rising in the East. But the Empire was ravaged, war was upon the northern horizon and the Hordes of Chaos clamour at its gates. Beastmen warherds run wild and unchecked across the lands of Talabecland and Reikland, whilst villages and towns were obliterated as fire was struck from the heavens. Doomsayers and flagellants were abroad in incredible numbers, clustering around temples and proclaiming that the end was nigh.

For three days Grand Master Leitdorf saw these ill omens and awaited the Emperors answer, and it was upon the fourth day that the Emperor has given it. The Emperor left with the Riekmarshal for the northern war-front, and instead advised his chief-aide Markus Lofdtir, to introduce the Grand Master to three guest awaiting in the reception rooms. These guest were the High Elven expedition that was sent to rescue the Everchild from her peril, seeking the aid of the Empire in this dire struggle. Before night fell, the full host of the Elves rode east alongside the entire Order of the Knights of Sigmar's Blood with a grim determination driving them forward.

From the south-east, another force has also rode forth to stop this dark ritual from happening. The Wood Elves of Athel Loren had kept their promise to the Everqueen to save the Everchild from the clutches of the Vampire. Araloth, Lord of Talsyn guided his host in great secrecy through the forest of the Empire and slaughtered any beastmen that stood in their way. To the East, a mighty army of Dwarfs lead by Slayer King Ungrim Ironfist began to stomp down the slopes towards Sylvania, so powerful and mighty that the Goblin tribes around the foothills fled in terror in their wake. It was the time to act, and Ungrim Ironfist was determined to give his enemies a firm reminder that they were still a force to be reckoned with. To the north, a massive horde of Beastmen led by the winged-beast named Malagor has marched ceaselessly towards the place known as the Shrine of the Nine Demons, where all of this shall finally unfold.

The Invasion of the Five Armies (Late 2524 IC)
The arrival of the Five armies descending towards Sylvania did not go unnoticed by the Undead. Mannfred had spies everywhere, and the Vampire knew that should these forces merge together, there would be nothing stopping them. In order to stop this from happening, Mannfred gathered his generals and laid out the plans to attack each armies separately, isolating them from support and butchering them to the last.

The first blow fell against the Beastmen Hordes of Malagor after they have breached the bone-fortresses within the borders of Sylvania. Under the leadership of Count Nyktolos of Vargravia, a winged-host comprising entirely of terrorgheist, fellbats and other cave-born denizens assaulted the Beastmen herds and ambushed them time and again throughout Hunger Woods. Unable to catch their assailants, the Beastmen hordes were drawn steadily and inexorably eastward, despite Malagor's ruthless attempt at control.

To the north-east, the Dwarfs of Karak Kadrin have breached through the bonewalls surrounding the borders and fought their way towards their rendezvous within the town of Templehof. Mannfred attempted to dispatched three captains to stop the Dwarfs but none have succeeded. As the Dwarf's pace slowed to a crawl due to the unnatural landscape, Count Nyktolos and his host of terrorghest have unveiled their hidden plans to lure the Beastmen hordes directly towards the path of the Dwarfs, resulting in the devastating Battle of Red Cairn.

The battle lasted for nearly two days and one night, but the Dwarfs have managed to emerge victorious, with the lands surrounding them choked with the uncountable bodies of dead beastmen, the largest victory the Dwarfs have ever won against the Children of Chaos. However, nearly 8/10th of the Slayer Kings forces were killed in the ensuring battle, and taking his duty as king of his people, he begrudgingly led the survivors home, whilst a small force of Dwarf rangers continued their march towards Templehof.

Far to the south, Araloth's host have made good progress through the treacherous woodlands of the Forsaken Forest. To stop their advance, Mannfred dispatched the banshee Kalledria, Queen of Sorrows and her small army of spectres and ghost to halt Araloth in his tracks. Soon a number of their fellows disappeared into the gloom and haunted dreams grip their minds as they made camp. Knowing that a foul intelligence was at work here, Araloth led his host in an assault against the Banshee Queen's lair within the depths of Ghoul Woods. With the aid of Araloth's spellweavers, the Wood Elves pushed back the Ghost clans assailing them and finally banish Kalledria and her ghosts from the physical realm. With her demise, Araloth led his host northward where he met with the Goddess Lileath.

The Goddess told Araloth that the Everchild's fate is not their to influence no longer, and that a greater battle awaited them and his kin on a distant shore. It was then that Araloth gave the Goddess the locket that has guided him throughout his journey and stepped through a portal of shimmering starlight. With their Lord gone, the host followed his orders and left the cursed lands of Sylvania, disappearing from mortal sight.

As the battered Dwarven rangers reached the town of Temphof to bore them the news of Ungrim's retreat, the town was found empty, with the host of both Men and Elves having already departed to confront Mannfred without them. With Geheimnisnacht Eve just a week away, the combined armies made all haste towards their destination, but began to slow to a crawl as the Elves seek to find a safer path. Grand Master Leitdorf was enraged at this slow advance, and after being politely but firmly rebuffed by the Elven leaders did Leitdorf head farther off from the main host. It was then that Mannfred struck.

Around the Gardens of Morr just south of the village of Klodebein, the Knightly host was ambushed by a host of Vargheist from the many hidden tomes of the cemetery. Caught unprepared and surrounded, the Knightly host was slowly torn to shreds by Count Mannfred's Undead army numbering ten-times Leitdorfs own forces. In one last desperate act of defiance, Grand Master Leitdorf charged towards Count Mannfred with his remaining Knights and were struck down by the sudden appearance of an Undead phalanx in front of their charge. Leitdorf fell from his horse and tried once last time to kill the Vampire but to no avail. As the Elves reached Klodebein, they bore witness traces of a bloody battle. All across the lands, the bodies of Knights were thrown everywhere, with the lifeless body of Grand Master Leitdorf hanging from a tree some distance away. The Elves were on their own now, and upon the Glen of Sorrows the final battle too place.

Death at the Nine Demons (Late 2524)
Upon the haunted and tainted lands that this foul ritual would take place, there stands nine great effigies that tower over the landscape, each bearing the appearance and characteristics of horrible daemons. From below these might effigies lies a grand army of the Undead, standing like statues to defend the dark ritual that is taking place.

As proud Eltharion and his fellow commanders looked upon the horde that stands before them, they knew from then on that there is no going back. The elven host knew this was the final climatic moment, a ripple of motion spreading across the assembled host as the salute was echoed by every warrior gathered tehre. His heart full of warrior's pride, Eltharion return the salute and gave the other to attack.

Like a mighty thunderbolt, the Elven host crashed into Undead host with such a ferocity that could've destroyed mortal armies. Yet these were not mortals, but unfeeling and unliving creatures held together by magic most foul. Nevertheless, the Elves push onward, shattering bones and splintering shields as they punched a deepening whole through the enemy ranks. Yet even as Eltharion's attack stalled, Prince Eldyra ordered the Knights of Tiranoc into the advance. One more, a second frontal charge broke another shell of the enemies defences, allowing the Elves to regain the momentum. At the heart of the glen, at the center of the stone circle known as the Nine Daemons, Mannfred von Carstein looked upon the carnage wrought by the Elven assault and saw that he needed to act.

Within the ritual itself, Arkhan the Black had completed the first stage of the summoning. Scarlet light pulsed deep within the stones as the magic within the Staff of Alakanash and the Nine Books of Nagash created a massive magical barrier on the edge of the ritual circle. In time, the sacrifices were made. Morgiana le Fay of Bretonnia was cut open, her blood filling the cauldron at the center of the circle, while the defiant Volkmar stood ankle-deep in her blood, spiting holy curses at Arkhan, even as his body was encased in Morikhane, the black armor of Nagash. The last sacrifice lay bound on the edge of the stone circle, Aliathra, Everchild of Ulthuan.

In the battle outside, Mannfred rose up upon his winged mount and tried to reconstruct his army back into form. However, time and again his incantations failed him as Belannaer, an Elf Mage of Saphery continued to dispel his magics. But such a being could not hold out for long, and once Belannaer began to falter, Mannfred regained his magical momentum. In moments, Mannfred ordered a massive counter-assault. Eldyra saw the danger and ordered her Knights to meet the Drakenhof assault at full gallop. As the two sides meet, Mannfred and Lady Eldyra fought in a mighty duel for supremacy. Again and again, Lady Eldyra landed searing blows upon the Vampiric Count, but in one final moment, Mannfred ordered a host of fell bats upon the Elven Princess, smothering her inside their membranous wings. As the flock cleared, Eldyra was gone.

With her death, Mannfred called upon a magical storm upon the battlefield. With a single flick of his fingers, the magical storm surged towards the Elven Mage. Belannaer deflected the bolt with a magical shield and just had enough time to duck from the swipe of his own Elven bodyguard, mind-controlled by Mannfred himself. Yet it was too late, for as the blade carved a gash at the Mage's back, the great Belannaer was consumed in a magical explosion. Back in the ritual, Arkhan slowly placed the Crown of Sorcery upon the brow of Volkmar, and in time, the voice of Nagash can be heard upon the winds.



As the ritual reached a crisis point, Lord Eltharion rode with haste upon his mighty Griffon upon Mannfred. Long have the two battled, and though Lord Eltharion was tired and wounded, he fought on grimly. In time, Eltharion clove Mannfred's forearm like butter. Mannfred counter-attacked with blades of shadowy magic, but Stormwing, Eltharion's griffon threw itself at Mannfred before the creature finally died of its wounds. With the path cleared, Eltharion clove at the magical barrier with his magical sword until it finally opened to him. Casting aside his helm, Eltharion entered the ritual.

As the final sacrifice was being made, Arkhan quickly turned as Etharion held the skeletal hand which held the ancient Staff, Alakanash. Then, the witch-light of Arkhan's eyes flashed once, and Eltharion the Grim, Warden of Tor Yvresse, exploded into a cloud of dust. With the last hope for the World dead, Arkhan finished the ritual, cut the Everchild's throat and let spilt the blood of the holy. With the cauldron filled, Arkhan clove Volkmar's wrist and placed the severed Hand of Nagash upon its stump. With one last agonizing scream, Volkmar was consumed by Dark Magic, and in his place came a dark, shadowy figure. Nagash was reborn.

The Gathering of the Nine (Late 2524)


As Nagash rose from the dark cauldron, Arkhan knew that the next phase of their arduous journey had begun. All around the circle, the Books of Nagash suddenly snapped open, pages of blood-inked skin riffled back and forth as Nagash reclaimed the magic he had set within the volumns long ago. One by one, spirits were ripped from these prison-pages and snuff out with a pinch of Nagash's fingers, devouring their essence.

With his hand held skyward, Nagash let loose a pillar of darkness that pieced the sky and spoke the final words of power that would awaken the dead of the world from their graves. The Annulii Mountains in Ulthuan trembled, as waystones and the seas around the Isle of the Dead turned black. In Naggaroth, purple flames swepth through the secret shrines to Ereth Khial, and a ghostly city screamed its way into existence atop the ruins of Har Kaldra. Swarms of khepra beetles overran Nehekhara's temples, and ancient monuments that had dominated the desert for millennial sank beneath the sands. Settra the Imperishable railed at his priest, demanding an explanation that none could provide. In Altdorf, the reclusive Amethyst College crumbled away into dust, and the spectral spirits of long-dead wizards stalked the streets. From anywhere and everywhere, the dead were slowly answering the call of Nagash.

But then the Great Necromancer began to stagger beneath the weight of the magical ritual, as an ancient curse race like poison through his body, sapping his power and strength. It was then that Arkhan and Mannfred realize that the Elf Princess was not the Everchild, but a mere bastard of the cursed Aenarion line. Even as the weight of magic began to slowly crush him, Nagash's titanic pride would not allow him to accept defeat at first. Yet it became clear that it was impossible, so with a mighty thrust, Nagash stabbed his magical staff upon the ground, channeling all the magic he has gathered into the very earth. Within moments, the entire province of Sylvania was torn apart by unstable magic, creating vast canyons all across the lands and awakening the dead from generations past into unholy half-life. Sylvania has now become the new land of the dead.

Nagash looked out unto this nightmarish landscape and knew that he had to remove this curse should he wish to wage war against the Dark Gods. With his mind set, Nagash allowed his voice to echo across the Winds of Magic, calling forth all who had embraced his necromatic teachings. Those that refused or challenge him were struck by Nagash personally. In time, Arkhan, Neferata, Krell, Mannfred von Carstein, Luthor Harkon, Dieter Helsnicht, Walach Harkon, and the Nameless all pledge their services to Nagash. Yet Nagash knew that he needed an emissary in the north if he were to hold the Hordes of Chaos at bay. Mannfred could've performed the task, but he had little trust in the rogue Vampire. Instead, Nagash pluck the anceint Vlad von Carstein from the veil of true Death and reinstated him back as his lieutenant. Though Vlad had little trust towards Nagash, so long as Nagash kept his promise to return Isabella back to him, Vlad vowed to follow the Great Necromancer to the very end.

With his instructions given, Vlad von Carstein lead a massive Undead army towards the northern borders alongside Walach of the Blood Knights and the Nameless in order to stall the Hordes of Chaos for as long as they can. As three of the nine head north, the others finally converged upon the land of the dead. The last war for Nehekhara was nigh.

Battle of Reaver's Mark (Late 2524)


Just a mere hour before Nagash returned to this very world, another pivotal event of equally grave consequence has also taken place far to the west. As the Elven host of Regent Tyrion fell upon the sandy shores of Reaver's Mark intent on advancing to the Shrine of Khaine, a hidden Dark Elven host many time's Tyrion's own army had sprung their trap. But it was not Tyrion's army that was ambushed, but the armies of Caradryan, Captain of the Pheonix Guards. With a flash of Sunfang, Tyrion ordered the charge and rode to face the Dark Elves in battle. Tyrion's charge struck the Dark Elven army from the rear, killing first a host of Ghrondian Dreadspears who were protecting a Sorceress. Without even realizing it, the Ghrond forces were scattered like chaff before the scythe. As the sun began to set, the battle began to intensify even more. As the first line broke, the Elven host struck a second Dark Elven regiment bearing the hydra of Clar Karond. Though Tyrion broke through, others were not so fortunate. Though causalities were sustained, the second regiment broke ranks and were crushed.

As Tyrion's charged got bogged down, Captain Korhil led the remainder of their forces to assist their Tyrion's advance. Just as the thousand strong Elven reinforcements made their charge, the Sorceress Drusala had conjured invisible pathways that saw the orderly lines of Korhil's assault turned into a bloody brawl. Within a split second, bands of High Elven warriors have been magically scattered all across the battlefield, leaving them surrounded and at the mercy of the Dark Elves. Only Tyrion and his Knights roam freely and united upon the plains, tearing apart another regiment of Dark Elves.

However, in time Tyrion and his Knights began to tire after much exertion, and in response the Dark Elves counter-attacked with Darkblade's Knights and Har Ganeth's Executioners. Within moments, Darkblade himself entered the fray and nearly clove the Regent in two were it not for the aid of Tyrion's trusty steed. Back and forth the two battled until Tullaris Deathbringer, most exalted execution of Har Ganeth managed to cleave through Tyrion's dragon armor and pierce right through his back. As the mighty regent slump down upon his saddle, weakened and awaiting the executioner's blade, it was at this moment that Nagash's ritual finally reached its climax. In but an instant, all knew the passing of the Everchild. If Tyrion felt any sorrow, it was but a fleeting moment emotion for in that instant, something dark and hungry soon consumed his entire being.

With a growl, the Regent jerked from his saddle, dodging the Executioner's deathblow and plough Tullaris into the ground, from which Tyrion ruthlessly punctured his sword clean through his body. As Tyrion became distracted, Darkblade made one final attempt on his life, but just before his sword reached its intended victim, a spasm of pain flared through Darkblade's very soul as the caged Daemon was released by the Sorceress Drusala's magic. Once more, the Daemon Tz'arkan burst forth and fought the regent. But the daemons brutish intellect proved its downfall as Tz'arkan made a final charge against Tyrion, only for Tyrion to slash his Sunfang through his body. As if to signal his death, the very ground shook and the skies overhead grew dark as Nagash's ritual of Undeath was flung through all four corners of the World. But Tyrion would not be detered, for as the Undead surged all around them, the regent finally succumb himself to his most innermost darkness. In an instant, the bloodlust of Khaine filled the High Elves into berserkers, and within moments, both the Undead and High Elves descended upon the Dark Elves, butchering them to the very last. Tyrion the Regent took up Darkblade's cursed weapon, the Warpblade of Khaine and took up on the butchery.

Death at the World's Edge (Late 2524)
Prior to the destructive siege of Heldenhame Keep, news of Arkhan's and Mannfred's schemes to resurrect Nagash did not go unnoticed by Neferata from her power-base within the Silver Pinnacle. The Vampire Queen had spies everywhere within the lands of the Empire, and the reports she gathered from her many mistresses has allowed her to decipher their motives. The fact that Arkhan didn't ask for her aid in their endeavour has worried the Vampire Queen greatly, for her enemies were moving in, and she knew that sooner or later she had to pick the right side of this conflict. She knew what she needed to do, yet Neferata could not bring herself to leave her sanctum but after surviving a sudden Daemonic assault upon her fortress, she knew she had to act.

With her forces gathered, the Undead army traveled non-stop southward, under the shadow of a magical storm that blocked out the sun. The army crossed the Silver Road, trying their best to avoid the western approach so as to avoid the monstrous might of Karaz-a-Karak. However, the army veered to close to the Dark Lands, and on the Trail of Fangs the army was harassed by the rear by packs of raiding Goblin Wolf Riders.

Mistress Imentet, favoured of all handmaidens, directed a contingent of spirits and dire wolves to form a rearguard to eliminate the Wolf Riders. As they continued on, they found the Blizzard Gap clear of the usual Dwarfen garrisons that lined it's steep cliffs. Just as they reached just north of Death Pass, the column came across a grand opposition. Hordes of Greenskins were amassing for a battle occurring in the south, following the trail of the other Greenskin tribes that marched before them. Unsuspecting of an Undead attack from the north, a series of battles has been won by Neferata that resulted in the destruction of several armies in quick succession, allowing her to cross Death Pass unchallenged.

But as she saw the peaks visible from the distance, her outriders have come forth to tell her of a massive goblin horde amassing within Skull Chasm. Warlord Grulsik of the Moonclaw Tribe has rallied the surviving tribes in an effort to join '''Skarsnik's Waagh! '''that is being fought within the ruins of Karak Eight Peaks. This plan was foiled as the Goblin's rearguard was struck by the Undead host of Neferata. For three days, the Greenskins fought a running battle against the Undead until finally they reached the comparative safety of one of Skull Chasm's many caves, where the Warlord began to take stock of the situation. Tribes were scattered and isolated within caves all around Skull Chasm, and if Grulsik and the Moonclaws were to gain the attention of Skarsnik, he needed to gather them to beat back the Undead. Soon, he began to enlist their aid, willingly or not.

After subduing the Goblins of the Moonhowlaz, Bloodpeaks, Madmoonz, Crookhoodz, and Crookblade tribes into the fold, Warlord Grulsik ordered the tribes into a battle-line whilst the rest gather around the caves to ambush the approaching Undead. As the armies of Neferata came upon the Greenskin ranks, hordes of archers let loose a barrage of arrows that blackened the sky while Goblin Fanatics with their giant chain-balls were sent loose, ploughing through the Undead ranks like a scythe through wheat. Above the fighting, a trio of mad Goblin Master Shamans flung hexes after hexes upon the Undead, their magics slowing unraveling by the magical might of the Greenskin Waaagh!

The Undead kept coming through like a ceaseless tide, their left flank being spearheaded by the Lahmian Guard, their elite troops. But on their right side, a mob of Stone Trolls were creating a breach in their lines, and from behind them a host of Wolf Riders and Squig Hoppers followed close behind. It seemed at that moment that victory for the Greenskins was within their grasp, but just as the first wave was about to collapse, Mistress Imentet led the second wave upon her ornate coven throne, a host of ethereal creatures following close behind. Unable to kill these spectres with their swords or spears, the Goblin lines began to collapse and all hope seemed lost. However, it was in this moment that Warlord Grulsik sprung his cunning trap. Within moments, all across the Chasm, squip-pipes and the roars of Cave Beast echoed through the battle as hordes upon hordes of Goblins, Squigs and Trolls burst out of the caves on either side of the Chasm. The battleline soon turned to anarchy as the Undead were smothered by an impossibly large number of Greenskin warriors. With most of their Necromancers preoccupied with staying alive, the Undead that would've arisen from their defeats lay silent upon the ground.

With no other course, Neferata personally took into the fighting herself, but a many headed Chimera burst out of a cave within the nothern end of Skull Chasm, as if hell-bent on killing the Vampire Queen. Though Neferata was powerful beyond reckoning, she was never truly the greatest fighter amongst her kind, and after much fighting the beast pinned her in place soon to be devoured. It was just then that a titanic horde of Bats fell upon the battlefield, covering ever single combatant in its shadow. A new undead army arose over the horizon and Krell, Lord of Undeath strode towards the Chimera as it was distracted and buried his two-bladed axe upon the great beasts chest, splitting it wide open. Though Neferata didn't knew it, it was at this moment that Nagash's spell of Undead rippled across the very world. Mountains shook and the Undead from every single grave began to fumble into life. In one instant Neferata went from being near the end of her millenia-long existence to watching herself heal completely, her undying body filled with a new intensity. With the dead rising all around them, and the will of Nagash bearing down upon her very thought, the battle was won and Neferata was once more back into the fold.

The Battle of Valaya's Gate (Late 2524)
Pushed onward by the towering willpower of Nagash himself, the two mighty Undead armies surged towards their destination, a source of mighty magical power that will be sufficentent enough to restore their master's strength to formidable levels. Delving underground and through long-forgotten tunnels, the Undead Horde burst through the northern and southern archways of a massive cavern and surronded the mighty Expedition army of Runelord Thorek Ironbrow which lay before the gates where Valaya herself currently slumbers. After spotting the Undead hordes, the Dwarfs of the Iron Guard and the Brotherhood of the Anvil locked shields and prepared themselves for the coming storm. To the south, the Dwarfs under Thorek and the Brotherhood held on against the onslaught of Neferata and her handmaiden Vampiress. To the north, Thane Kraggson and his regiment of Ironbreakers, the Iron Guards held firm against the might of Lord Krell and his Doomed Legion.

So stubborn and brave were the Dwarfs in their defence of their very god that the battle lasted for hours, and became more or less a stalemate. But the impossible numbers of the Undead Hordes were slowly carving their way through the shield-walls of the Dwarfen throng. From another entrance, Druthor, the Strigoi Ghoul King of Grimbarrow and his army of Ghouls burst through and hit the Iron Guards with such ferocity that the Dwarfs were being pushed back. From the southern edge of the caverns, the Vampire Queen has had enough of the old Runelord's stubbornness and personally led her Vampire Handmaidens in a vicious assault. Against a host of superhuman warriors, the meagre warriors of Runelord Thorgrim were cut down to the last, with the Runelord being the only one to yet live. In defiance, the Runelord rose his hammer high and hit his Anvil of Doom with such force that the cavern was lit with a massive flash of thunder, pushing the entire Vampire assault back and utterly obliterating Mistress Imentent with a lightning blast. His body bleeding and his armor rent, the Runelord uttered the last runic hymn which saw the Gates of Valaya finally opened.

But the Undead hordes continued their advance, but as it seemed lost for the Dwarf cause, a horned rang across the caverns. From the empty tunnels on the left flank of the Dwarf army, King Kazador and his most elite warriors from Karak Azul burst forth, regiment after armored regiment of harderened Dwarf Warriors filed out and attack the Undead on their flanks. Yet from across the caverns, the armies of Goblin Warlord Grulsik Moonclaw and the remnants of the Goblin tribes burst through the rear flanks of the Undead and carved their way towards the Dwarfen lines at the front. With three armies attacking at many different directions, the battle turned to utter chaos as knots of warriors from all sides became scattered and fought against not one, but two enemies.

But the weight of the Undead numbers soon enveloped both armies, and in time King Kazador and his army of Warriors were engulfed in a sea of bones and rusted swords. Like the heroes of old, each Dwarf felled dozens of the Undead before they too fell, making one final last stand beside their great King. In that moment, Lord Krell fought the mighty Dwarf King in hand-to-hand combat, but as King Kazador pushed the great Wight King to his very knees, Krell lashed out and beheaded the great King of Karak Azul. So it was that the cause of the Dwarfs was lost.

Yet out of the chaos and bloodshed, Thorek Ironbrow, bloodied and his stomach gutted by Neferata herself, rose up from his imminent grave and slowly, painfully, crawled his way towards his Anvil of Doom once more. With the last of his strength fading him, Thorek, with eyes blazing with determination, struck his Anvil one last time, and in a flash of lightning, the artefact exploded, sending the entire cavern into ruin. Out of the ashes, Neferata and Krell rose up from the debris as they saw the last of the Dwarfs carry their slain king back to Karak Azul. Victory have been achieved, and the power of Valaya stood unprotected before the hunger of Nagash.

The Fall of the Auric's Bastion (Late 2524)
Geheimnisnacht Eve at last arrived, Morrslieb and Mannslieb loomed ominously low on the skies above the battlefields of Northern Kislev, where the armies of the Empire of Man and the Hordes of Chaos Undivided stand on either side of the Auric's Bastion. But this Geheimnisnacht was unlike any that had come before. As midnight struck, all those that had associated themselves with Death felt the ominous powers of Nagash tapping into their very minds. The Priest of Morr fell into madness, the wizards of the Amethyst College collapsed into dust, northlander Shamans felt their powers swelled before it receded and took their very souls with it. All across the Auric's Bastion, the undead rose from their graves and fought Imperial and Barbarian alike.

Here and there, the Undead milled about aimlessly, killing the living and also killing other Undead that they recognized in death the foes they had known in life. Elector Count Ludenhof's army was besieged as the plague-victims rose from the burning pyres and began to overwhelm their forces, but the timely arrival of the Knights of the Blazing Sun which sallied forth from Castle Von Rauken, ensured the Imperial armies survival. But is isn't these shambling monstrosities that prove the downfall of the northern warfront, but rather the new forthcoming hordes of barbarians that are clamoring at their very gates.

The Defence of Alderfen (Late 2524)
Three days later, Emperor Karl Franz summoned Balthazar Gelt and demanded to know if the Wall of Faith still holds sway in Sylvania. Gelt reassured the Emperor it is, but unbeknownst to him, it indeed had failed and Karl Franz was not one to be fooled so easily. Just then, a herald bearing news from the war-front had interrupted the two's conversation and told them that a massive breach has been made upon the Alderfen Garrison in the central portion of the Auric's Bastion. Should action be not taken immediately, then Wolfram Hertwig, Count of Ostermark and his army will eventually be overwhelmed by the unstoppable hordes of barbarians spilling forth from the breach.

Unable to push the issue futher, Karl Franz and Gelt left to attend to the warfront. Upon his majestic pegasus, Quicksilver brought Gelt towards the battle raging to the north. From his saddle, he could see the great breach within the walls of the Auric's Bastion. From its openings, wave after wave of Barbarians rushed recklessly through the hailstorm of rapid gunfire and artillery barrages, dying in their hundreds within minutes. Overwhelmed by impossible odds, the brave Ostermark warriors that held the breach were butchered to the last, and in his shame of being dragged back from the frontlines, Count Hertwig rallied the remaining Imperial armies and made one last daring, suicidal charge against the enemy horde.

The charge bite deep into the Chaos ranks, as the savagry and zeal of the sigmar-chanting Imperials proved even the match of the northern barbarians. But as Count Hertwig carried himself deeper into the Horde, he was set upon by Festak Krann, the foul Warlord of the Rotting Hordes. The two fought like titans, but Festak clove Hertwig's shoulder bloody, and in his dying breath, the Elector Count drove his Runefang upon the Nurgle Champion's gut. Enraged by the searing wound, Festak finally finished the job and caved his head with his axe. In that moment, Wolfram Hertwig, the last Elector Count of Ostermak died with a knowning smile on his face. Yet as the foul Warlord stood trimphant, Festak Krann suddenly collapsed to his knees as the searing wound made by the Runefang Trollcleaver would not heal. In time, Festak knew that he is doomed.

As the battle raged without him, from the left, right and center, the armies of the Empire, though battered and bloodied, held the line as the legendary blacksmith, Valten rallied his countrymen against the barbarian hordes. Glowing with a golden light, Valten smashed barbarian shields to splinter, and crack skulls in with his powerful dual warhammers. Those around him soon felt courage and zeal unlike anything they've felt in years and fought like fanatics. Soon, even the barbarians were terrified of this mighty warrior.



Like a battlecry, Valten's name roared from the throats of every Imperial. With the flash of cannons and the savage zeal of the Imperials, the Empire line surged forward, driving the barbarians back. The banners of Festak Krann fell into the mud scant paces from the Warlord's lifeless corpse. From here and there, the northlander's standards and battle-banners were toppled again and again, and against the odds, the Hordes were fleeing back to the other side of the Bastion. But as ultimate victory was within their ver grasp, a foul stench filled the very air as another horde marches over the breach. From their bloated and plague-ridden bodies, the Rotting Hordes of Nurgle's daemonhost poured through the breach.

But the Imperials felt no fear, and even as the rotting daemon host shambled towards them, Valten rushed towards Gurug'ath of the Endless Rot, a Great Unclean One of the Pox-Father. But even such an entity could not be so easily bested, and though mighty Valten fought valiantly, the Great Unclean One drove the Champion of Sigmar unto the ground, awaiting the executioner's blade. In but an instant, victory turned to almost certain defeat. But something ominous soon covered the entire battlefield. Both man and daemon alike looked up into the sky and saw a wave of darkness covering the land.

A shriek filled the very air with noise as the dead lying upon the ground rose in their thousands as to the south, Vlad von Carstein has entered the battlefield. The Imperials retreated, but the Undead pressed on against the daemonhost, the Blood Knights of Walach Harkon leading the charge. Seeing a common foe, both the Imperials and Undead rallied together and fought back the daemons and the Great Unclean One from the breach, the walls soon glowing with golden light as Gelt began the ritual to restore it to it's former glory. With a cry of triumph, the ritual was complete, and the walls of the Bastion flowed together once more. As the breach was closing in front of him, Vlad gave the Great Unclean One a sneering smile, swepth his sword in mocking salute, then strode briskly from the sealing breach. All could hear the cry of the daemon lord as the wall finally closed in on itself. Thus ended the Battle of Alderfen and the beggining of an unusual alliance.

Gelt's Folly (Early 2525)


As the Battle of Alderfen ended, Balthazar Gelt allowed his fellow Wizards to take control of the ritual circle and keep the Walls of the Bastion intact. Yet it was not this that concerned him the most, but rather the implication that a daemonic shapeshifter had enacted a gruesome slaughter of the ritualist that once laboured there. Emil Valgeir, High Priest of Ulric had suggested such a circumstance when Gelt told the High Priest about the daemonic taint that lingers within the ritual circle. Determined to seek the daemon himself, the High Priest ensured the Supreme Patriarch that he will not rest until the daemon is found.

Leaving the garrison stationed around Alderfen, Balthazar Gelt travelled to the fortress of Castle von Raukev where a grand warcouncil of 500 of the Empire's greatest generals, priest and wizards now gather. From there, Gelt had to explain both his success in Alderfen and the failure of the Wall of Faith to the assembled masses, but the Supreme Patriarch was weary beyond belief, and his attempts of apology turned to something akin to outrage. Though the assembled masses scorned the Supreme Patriarch for his outburst, the Emperor told Gelt that he should leave and get some rest. Gelt stubbornly refused at first, but the Emperor only had to repeat himself once before Gelt was forced to leave the chamber. Later on, the Emperor met privately with Gelt and comfort him that he still trust the Supreme Patriarch and gave command of Alderfen Garrison to him. With that act of generosity, Gelt sincerely gave the full apology he couldn't give in the meeting. Though Karl Franz still had faith in the Gold Wizard, the Emperor felt that Gelt was slowly losing himself.

Gelt left the following morning alongside Count Ludenhof and Luthor Huss, the Herald of Sigmar. Luthor Huss would eventually travel the length and breath of the Auric's Bastion to seek the legendary Valten for himself. Count Ludenhof would leave soon after and return to his own positions while Gelt took over stewardship of Alderfen. As time pass, reports of the Shapeshifters mischief soon pour into the ears of the Supreme Patriarch, giving Gelt a great amount of concern and no amount of sleep. Since Gelt had returned, Luthor Huss has spent every waking hour with the young Valten, and after much fighting all across the warfront, Valten's heroics soon garnered him a massive following of fanatics that truly believe him to be the Chosen of Sigmar himself. Scant weeks afterwards, the Shapeshifters mischief's dissipated all completely, giving Gelt both a worrying suspicion and the time he needs to strengthen the powers of the Bastion.

Finally, after much laboring through the night, he found a disturbance taking place within Castle Rackspire upon the foot of the World's Edge Mountains known to the Imperials as Helsreach. With his pegasus, Gelt traveled there only to meet up with Vlad von Carstein in the dead of night, unbeknownst to Gelt that the Vampire has taken Rackspire and the entire length of Helreachs under his control. There, the Vampire Lord gave the Gold Wizard the ancient book, Revelation Necris as a sign of good faith and hopes for future cooperation for the survival of the Empire. Gelt was firmly against it at first, but the possibility of ensuring the survival of the Empire weighed heavily on him as he returned to Alderfen. Even worse, letters written by Emil Valgier has reported that the Shapeshifter is back once again and seems to be tailing the path Valten is currently travelling. The High Priest has come to the conclusion that the Shapeshifter is actually Valten himself. At first, Gelt couldn't believe in such an accusation, but after reading the final letter written scant few weeks ago which detailed that Valten will receive the warhammer, Ghal Maraz, the Supreme Patrairch was shaken to the core.

With haste, the Supreme Patriarch hurried himself upon Quicksilver towards Castle von Raukov, where Gelt was suddenly detained after hopelessly warning about the Changling's appearance. Yet in his panic, the Supreme Patriarch used foul necromancy to summon forth a small army of Skeletons upon the entire meeting ground. Chaos ensured, and Gelt finally accepted that he is now a traitor amongst his people, but will still strive hard to defeat Valten from killing the Emperor. Yet Gelt was fooled, for it soon became clear that it was Emil Valgier that was the Changling, and Valten was there not to kill the Emperor, but to save him from certain death.

Gelt felt revulsion unlike anything he has ever felt before, and in despair the former Supreme Patriarch flet the scene upon Quicksilver. Weren't it for the mask, everybody could see Gelt's tears running unchecked down he cheeks. He has betrayed everything. Within days, the Church of Sigmar denounced the works of Gelt, and the Auric's Bastion was abandoned by the Sigmarite Priest. In time, the Walls fell, and the Hordes poured out like a tide. This time, there is no escape, and the Imperial Legions made one last daring stand upon the city of Heffengen.

The Creator Unmasked (Early 2525)
As the Hordes pour forth upon the lands of Men, back in Ulthuan, the situation grows grimmer ever still. Even after the battle of Reaver's Mark, Tyrion was still himself, even though he felt the presence of Blood Khaine slowly enveloping him little by little. As he brooded, the Sorceress Drusala came into his tent, and revealed her true identity to Tyrion. As her disguise faded, Morathi, mother of Malekith came to Tyrion and told him the true extent of his brothers treachery. Outraged, Tyrion came out of his tent and demanded every mage to search for his brother or face dire punishment.

When Teclis finally arrived, Tyrion stood upon a long-abandoned ceremonial circle containing a statue of all the Elven Gods. When they finally met, the two brothers circled each other, like two swordsmen readying for a duel. It was Tyrion who spoke first, and his voice was harsh, accusing, and yet pleading, pointing shaking fingers at his brother for the deaths of not just the Elves at Eagle Gate, but also Finubar the Phoenix King. Piles of accusation were spit out, and Teclis confirmed each and every one. Tyrion lashed out with his armored gauntlet, forcing Teclis to the bloodied ground. Finally, he asked one last question which shook Tyrion to the very core; did Teclis allow his daughter to die?

All Teclis could say was; "I am sorry". With sudden rage, Tyrion slashed the Warpsword of Khaine, the same weapon taken from Malus Darkblade's corpse, down upon his brother, but Teclis conjured his steed and fled the scene. As he rode off, Tyrion yelled a mighty howl of anguish against his brother. By dusk, Tyrion left the stone circle. Out of the eaves of the treelines, the Wood Elves under Araloth saw the whole thing unfold. He alongside Lileath and Kalara came upon the stone circle, and the Goddess Lileath meditated until the stroke of midnight. Than, as she bowed to a masked statue of Asuryan, fire engulfed the outer ring of the stone circle.

Right before Araloth's eyes, he saw the statues of the Gods turn to ghostly figures, as if the flame gave them life. The legends of the Gods was being shown right in front of him, of how Khaine first killed Kurnous out of jealous for Isha, of how Hekarti and Atharti fought for Khaines attention and comfort. Lileath beckoned Araloth and Kalara at the center of the circle, and from there a darkness began to cloud the sky, and the ghostly gods rose their hands in fear of it. As all the Gods looked up in horror at the darkness, Asuryan looked down upon Araloth. Slowly, haltingly, the Creator raised his hand and removed his mask. With shock, Araloth saw a familar face; his face.

The fire faded and the darkness of night came back. Lileath told Araloth his destiny as the new Asuryan of this dying world and told him that one last task is needed for the survival of all their kind. She urged Araloth to rescue Shallya, for she is the key to the survival of Mankind, whose fate is tied closely to their own race. With grim determination, Araloth and Kalara ventured into the Gardens of Nurgle and began their final journey.

Prelude to Damnation (Early 2525)
As Araloth set forth upon his destiny, the two Lords of the Elven race, Malekith the Witch King and Tyrion the Defender of Ulthuan were slowly making their way towards the Blighted Isles, the place where two destinies awaits these mighty Warriors of the Elven race. After defeating Ystranna and her High Elven army, Malekith received word from survivors of Malus Darkblade's slaughtered forces that a host almost as large as the one Malekith commanded approaching from the south, a force under the banner of Prince Tyrion. Kouran Darkhand, captain of the Black Guards advised to press to the Blighted Isles whilst leaving a rearguard force to halt Ystranna's remaining forces. But the Witch King would have none of it. Yet after sometime, Malekith agreed on Kouran's advice and instead gave the order for Prince Imirik and his Dragon Knights to this in their stead.

When Kouran met Imirik, the atmosphere was extremely tense as each one tried to subtly insult and berate the other. When Kouran gave the order for Imirk to attack Ystranna's force under the direct orders of Malekith, the atmosphere intensified as Kouran's mocking expression made Prince Imirik slowly reach for his sword. But at that moment, Teclis burst into the tent, bruised and bleeding. He told the two Elven Lords that Morathi has put Tyrion under her spell, and how a dark power now mantled uopn his shoulder. As Teclis has feared yet forseen, the Curse of Aenarion had at last claimed his brother's soul, making him Khaine reborn. Teclis knew that Tyrion had to be prevented from taking the Widowmaker, and if that meant that the godly weapon instead fell into Malekith's hands, then so be it.

Thus did the Caledorian Dragon Riders ride forth and murdered their former countrymen with heavy hearts as ordered by the Witch King. Finally, the truth had been revealed to not just Prince Imirik but to the whole of the Caledorian forces, and they knew that this had to be done. And so did Ystranna's forces was finally defeated utterly, with Prince Imirik delievering the final blow which lay low Ystranna for good. Driven with grief, the Prince personally made the deceased Handmaidens funeral pyre as a silent word of forgiveness. With no deterrence to his advance, the Witch King finally set his foot upon the sandy shores of the Blighted Isles.

Battle of the Blighted Isles (Early 2525)
No site in Ulthuan bore deeper scars than the Blighted Isles. It was a place of legend, of the darkest secrets adn the most glorious of deeds. It was there that the Shrine of Khaine had been raised in the time before Chaos and there that the most terrible of battles had been fought. Here alone, out of all Ulthuan does the very destiny of the Elven race are put at stakes. From all across Ulthuan, regiments of soldiers from some of the deadliest fighting force in all of the Ten Kingdoms have arrived to stop Malekiths advance. The bulk of the force consisted of the entire military might of the Kingdom of Yvresse. Led by the twins, Anaran and Anarelle, the Revenants of Khaine, the Silverin Guard, the Skyhawks the Knights of Tor Gaval stood at attention.

The eastern High Elven flank was made up of mistwalkers and the Knights of Tor Gaval whilst to the west, the grim warriors of Nagarythe sharpened their blades for war, led by their leader Alith Anar, the Shadow King. Behind the assembled lines, the Shrine of Khaine loomed out of the mist, standing upon a hill of skulls. Malekith knew that time is of the essence, as reports from the rearguard says that Tyrion's skirmishers have already engaged his forces. With haste, the Dark Elves assaulted the High Elven positions, with the Black Guard leading the assault. Spells and arrow fire criss-crossed across the skies overhead, but the Black Guard spearhead continued on heedless of the causalities.

There was a rumble of thunder overhead as massive thunderclouds let loose rain from the sky with the odd coloration of spilt blood. Scores of High Elven Shadow Warriors had advanced through the rocky outcrop to the West and let loose a barrage of arrow fire at the Black Guards flanks, killing dozens of the elite warriors. In response, Dark Elven assassins assaulted their positions, pushing the Shadow Warriors out of their vantage point before Alith Anar, the Shadow King finally intervened.

With a battlecry, the Black Guards finally met the enemy battleline, their shouts setting hearts a-tremor. The impact soon shattered the Elven battleline, making a hole from which the Dark Elves began to pour forth. In response, the Silverin Guards marched down to plug the breach. The reckless Dark Elven assault hadn't had the time to form up, and thus they were caught in the jaws of the enemy as the second Elven battleline pushed forward. Up in the skies overhead, the Griffon Knights of Tor Gaval made their assault and soon the Dark Elven assault had stalled and began to waver against this mighty counter-attack.

With the first assault faltering, Malekith sent his second assault force forward to reinforce. With them came a host of Black Dragon Knights known as the Lords of Oblivion, with Seraphon, the personal dragon of Malekith, at their head. With the aid of Dark Elven sorceresses, the Griffon Knights were entagled in a web of dark magic, and were falling like flies from they sky. Princess Anarelle cast a dispell which saw the Sorceress devoured by her own magic, releasing the Griffons from their bondage. Soon, even her magic began to annoy Malekith, and in irratation, the Witch King soared to the source of his grievance.

Back on the ground, the Black Guard and the Silverin Guard fought in a deadly struggle, where Kouran personally fought and slew Prince Anaran in a mighty duel of blades and skill, only for the Captain of the Black Guard to suddenly be surronded by a circle of Elven spears, with Alith Anar personally killing him at last. With his death, Princess Anarelle's concentration was shattered at the most critical of moments, and she was torn asunder by Seraphon and her body thrown down the slopes of the hill. Warhorns howled the air as Tyrion's host finally reached the outskirts of the battlefield. Time, was running out and Malekith soared fast towards the hill's summit.

The Avatar of Khaine (Early 2525)
As the Witch King flew, Alith Anar saw the shape of Seraphon overhead and let loose an arrow which saw the Dragon plummet from the sky. Even as the Witch King fell, Korhil, captain of the Lion Guard led the High Elven assault. From her vantage point, Morathi weaved a spell which spoke to every ear within Malekith's host, and in that instant, traitors from amongst the Witch King's ranks showed their true colors. With one-third of the Dark Elven forces turning on Malekith during the High Elven assault, the Dark Elves were crumbling all around him.

As this was going on, five mighty Lords of the Elven race fought their way to the summit. Malekith and his Dragon fought their way through just as Tyrion upon his mighty Horse clove his way through the battlelines. Teclis upon his shadow steed glided through the carnage as an unseen shadow. Alith Anar, the Shadow King darted between rocks as he tries to find the hated Witch King. Behind Tyrion, Caradyran, captain of the Phoenix Guard followed in his regent's wake. Finally, the elusive Shadowblade was the first to reach the summit first and jumped upon the Witch King as he soon entered. Distracted by the voice in his head, Shadowblade missed his mark, but as Malekith was about to destroy the assassin, Tyrion intervened and the two fought a desperate battle.

Whilst Shadowblade fled, Malekith and Tyrion faced each other before the altar. They exchanged no words, neither threat nor challenge, for reach knew that his would be a battle to the death. Tyrion struck first and the exchange between the two heirs of Aenarion was like a blur and flashes of sparks. But the Witch King saw something different about Tyrion, he was faster and a dark shadow seemed to follow his every moment. During the duel, Shadowblade's poison began to slowly eat away at Malekith and he knew that he had to end this soon. In desperation, Malekith ushered a blast of dark flame upon the regent.

Malhandir, Tyrion's steed bore him away from the blast and in response, Tyrion shot Sunfang in opposition, releasing its own flame. The two flames ate at each other upon the very altar of Khaine himself. But the golden flame of Tyrion soon died out, and the black flame enveloped and seared Tyrion and his steed but not before the steed leaped over the altar and Tyrion swept Malekith off his saddle. With his face charred and blackened from the flame, Tyrion strode towards the crippled Malekith, his left arm lifeless and his stomach bleeding out foul blood. Slowed by his crippling injuries, Malekith could only offer token parries before Tyrion smote Malekith's ancient sword, "the Destroyer" into fragments.

Tyrion punched at Malekith's neck, forcing the Witch King upon his knees just as Tyrion struck his jaw with his foot. As the Witch King lay upon the ground, a pool of blood growing across his twitching form, Tyrion slowly reached out to grab the mighty Widowmaker. Teclis finally reached the summit and he cried out for his brother to stop. Tyrion didn't hear him, and instead his fingers slowly wrapped around the blade's shaft. In that moment, lightning sundered the skies, the rain grew thicker and a dark laughter billowed in its wake. Teclis's pleas proved worthless and the Widowmaker swept down to finally kill Malekith, the one and last hope of their race.

Teclis wove a quick deflection spell, but the blade hungrily ate at the magic and Tyrion knocked his brother sprawling upon the pavement. It was then that Caradryan intervened and stood between Malekith's umoving body and Tyrion's blade. Caradyran knew that his day would come, as Asuryan once showed him in his dreams, but now he knew that he had to choose and so he chose the side of Malekith. Tyrion laughed manically at this, and after fruitlessly telling the Captain to stand down, Tyrion lashed against his former captain. As Tyrion's blade swept out, Alith Anar loosed his arrow, the shaft speeding true for Malekith's heart.

By right, Caradryan should have died that hour, for thus Asuryan had foretold him long ago. However, Asuryan was the Creator, not a sower of fate. That was Lileath's domain, and destiny was hers to influence. As the speeding arrow raced towards its target, the bruised Teclis sensed its presence, having crafted the Shadow King's bow himself. With his last power, the arrow's course was altered and the shot that was intended for Malekith struck Tyrion's breastplate above his heart. The Dragon Armor of Tyrion held, but he was knocked back by the force. With haste, Teclis threw himself towards Malekith's body and called upon Lileath one last time, just as the Shadow King drew his blade to finish the job. White light washed over the Shrine of Khaine, flowing over the ancient stones in a gentle caress. When it faded, Malekith, Caradryan Teclis, Seraphon and Ashtari all were gone. Thus the Battle of the Blighted Isles was finished, and the time of Khaine had finally come.

The Invasion Begins
"Brother three shall bring low the Empire of Man. It is they who will muster the plague-kissed in their master's name. It is they who will cast the curse of unbound life, a curse that will bring primal disorder to a world of hard-won progress. United, the lords of disease shall bring the Old World to the brink of ruin - ruin from within and from without. All things clean and true shall sicken and fade. The Gods of Man shall fade with them, until only death holds the key to salvation"

- Prophecy of the End Times

The World is awashed in a tide of blood and violence. Everywhere you see, the lands of many nations, of many kingdoms and mighty empires are wrought in wars the likes of which echoes to the days of an ancient and bloody age. Ulthuan, the Kingdom of the High Elves has been shattered in spirit, its people divided between a Hero turned Traitor and a Tyrant turned Savoir. No longer is there any distinction between light and dark or good and evil for both sides has been tainted and reformed by a horrible truth that has been long hidden. Nehekhara, the mighty desert Empire of the Tomb Kings have stirred into new life like never before. Entire legions are rising from the crypts and desert, answering a call which echoes to the time of their damnation many centuries ago. Now and forever, this final battle will decide the fate of this ancient civilization of Mankind.

The Empire of Man, the greatest Human Kingdom in the Old World, has fought long and hard against the growing darkness that gathers beyond their borders, yet now the walls have fallen, and now the barbarians are flooding into the lands of Sigmar's realm like that of a great and bloodthirsty tide. Fire and magic reigns across the land, the armies of the Empire shattered and scattered throughout its ruins. Many still fight on, brave souls lead by mighty heroes as they try to weather the coming storm and hold on to everything they've ever held dear like they've have so many times before. Yet there is no future in this age of war, and as the winds bring with it the smell of rot and decay, the Empire will need a great hero like never before.

The Last Stand of Heffengen (Early 2525)


When the Bastion fell, so too did the Empire's last chance of holding back the Chaos tide. In desperate haste, the Imperial Armies of all the Empire made ready for a last stand upon the outskirts of Heffengen as the Hordes of Chaos overwhelm all in their path. General Godfrei Talb commanded the eastern defences, while Valten and his army of Fanatics held the far eastern flanks. Reinforcing their ranks were the Ogre Maneaters of Grub Kineater and his Bloodfist Mercenaries. The western defences were held by General Garrat Mecke, Lord General of Talabhiem, and the armies of all Talabecland were under his command. Upon the center, Karl Franz held the command of an entire army of Palace Guards, Reikguard Knights and Imperial Soldiers, forming a double-line half a mile beyond Heffengen's gates.

To the north, the Hordes of Chaos advanced beneath the beating wings of innumerable crows. War drums beat the very air with noise and demons roamed amongst their ranks. Without any plan or order, the hordes rushed into battle. As the horde came into range, the entire might of the Empire's artillery flung hundreds of Cannon-balls upon the teeming masses. Hundreds died within seconds of the barrage and still the Imperial Artillery kept firing. Yet the Hordes kept on coming, and as they got closer, volley after volley of Hochland riflemen let loose their barrage. Yet again, this horde was titanic beyond imagination, and the barbarians had the bodies to slowly close the gap.

Within minutes, the center of the Imperial line was struck by the barbarians like a lightning bolt, with already five whole regiments of elite Imperial soldiers lost in the brutal melee. The Imperials under Kurt Helborg launched a counter-attack as the second Imperial battleline marched forward. The first barbarian wave faltered and the Imperials pushed them back. Yet within moments, the second Chaos wave came forward, at their head came rotting daemons, Skaeling berserkers and the ancient Unclean One that Gelt temporarily imprisoned, Gurug'ath.

Yet the hordes were disorganized, and all their forces were directed solely towards the center of the Imperial battleline, leaving their flanks exposed. In response, Garrat Mecke's western artillery and rifleman positions opened fire once more. To the east, Valten lead his flagellant army and slammed headlong into the Chaos Hordes eastern flanks. The Reikguard Knights under Kurt Helborg fought deep into the Chaos ranks until he came upon the Greater Deamon and fought him hard. Seeing the battle hanging in the balance, Karl Franz leaped upon Deathclaw and came to Kurt's aid.

The second assault began to falter, as the Skaeling warriors found the fury of the fanatics beyond even their own abilities. Cheiftan after cheiftain had challeged Valten to battle, but each one fell before the crushing force of Ghal Maraz. Unable to fight against such crazed madmen, the Skaelings broke and ran. Hearing the cheers of the Fanatics, the Imperial and Ogre warriors of the eastern flanks pushed forward. Yet as the Skaelings broke, the armies of the Kurgans fell upon them, killing their comrades for being spineless curs. Then came the legendary Crom the Conqueror, sent forth by Archaon to either conqueror or to die within the south.

The third wave, which consisted entirely of powerful Chaos Warriors, slammed upon the Fanatic army and killed the lot of them. Only where Valten and Huss fought did the holy army held its ground, until they too became an island within a sea of hulking armor-clad barbarians. The Kurgans surged past the two holy warriors, and slammed upon the Imperial and Ogre forces coming to reinforce them. Out of formation, the Ostermark Imperials were overwhelmed by their ferocity. General Godfrei Talb died alongside his men, and only Grub Kineater and his Ogres held their ground.

Yet as the battle raged, the river banks of the Revesnecht, just a mile east from the fighting began to stir to life. Without a sound to be heard, an entire army of the undead appeared out of the massive river. Skeleton Warriors, ancient Wights and hungry winged Reavers descended upon the north-eastern flanks of the Chaos army, with Vlad von Carstein at his head. The Kurgans did not despair like their Skaeling brethrens, but fought the new foe with renewed savagery. Yet as they fought, the recently slain began to reanimate themselves, and soon the Kurgans were trapped on all sides. However, Crom the Conqueror would not be denied his victory, and soon he fell upon Valten and Huss with a vengeance. The three fought hard, Valten landing three powerful blows before he and Huss were pushed to the ground. As Crom closed in to end Valten's life, Huss hurled himself against Crom and held him back until Valten grabbed Ghal Maraz and slammed his hammer upon the Conquerors head. With his death, the Kurgans finally broke and ran. The western flanks was secured.

On the eastern flanks, Akkorak the Crow of the Kul tribe lead his Chaos Knights and Marauder Horsemen against the Talabecland armies. The Talabeclanders braced themselves, and amongst their ranks Morrstan, last Wizard of the Athemyst Order hurled a blast of purple death magic upon the Chaos riders, breaking their charge. Back at the center, Karl Franz came upon the Great Unclean One and struck his sword upon its skull, banishing him from this realm. Yet as the battle seemed won for the Imperials, trumpets blared to the north as a host of Blood Knights came down south.

As they came closer, it became clear that the Blood Knights were touched by Chaos, and soon these Vampires showed their new allegiance to Khorne by falling upon the Imperials and Undead alike. In the skies overhead, Karl Franz was suddenly assaulted by the Blood Knight's Grandmaster, Walach Harkon. In but a few minutes, the Emperor, the greatest statemen and general the Empire has ever known, was seen falling to the ground, a gash of blood upon his chest. As the entire army saw him plummet, like a raging wildfire, the entire army despaired and ran for their lives. Only the two Undead armies continued their battle until Walach was finally slain by Vlad himself. His death mattered little, for the Emperor was dead, and the Empire stood ready to crumble.

The Rise of the Glottkins (Early 2525)


As Morrslieb swelled full in the night skies above the northern waste, the touch of the Dark Gods slowly grew stronger and stronger by the day. As the defenders of the World fell by the thousands with every passing moment, either by the cold touch of biting steel or swayed to eternal damnation, the Dark Gods each adopted a Human champion to further their own earthly interest in this dying world. Archaon, foremost favoured of the Gods, knew that if he is to usher in the End Times, he needed the powers of all four powers in unison. The Chosens of Khorne under Valkia the Bloody are ravaging what remains of frigid Naggaroth. The dedecadent host of Slannesh under Sigvald the Magnificent continues to terrorize the shores of Kislev and the Sea of Claws, his acts of debachery growing more horrific with each passing invasion. The devious pawns of Tzeentch are being led south by the dark twins, Vilitching the Cursling down south to further enact the destinies coveted by the Architect of Fate. Only the followers of the Plague Father lacked their own supreme champion, directionless since the death of Festak Krann by the hands of the Imperials sometime ago.

The Everchosen knew the Great Game better than any mortal, and he knew that should there not be balance between these foul dieties, the fourfold union will be torn apart, like so many times before. As such, the Everchosen sent out legions of riders to look for a champion worthy of claiming the title. Each new champion found proved more grotesque and powerful then the last, yet these warriors were of little ambition and forsight other than conquest and battle. A true believer is needed in order to bring the Followers of Nurgle down south towards ultimate victory.

Yet it was not a mortal messenger which brought the force of destruction he sought. As Morrslieb glowed green over the sky and the Twin-Tailed Comet blazed across the night, the daemon-prince Ku'gath the Plaguefather presented Archaon with three Jars of Nurgle, a horrific artifact of deamonic power which contains plagues of such power that it would alter both man and reality alike. With these Jars, Archaon was given the names of the Champions who would lead this great host, three triplet Champions of Nurgle; the Glottkins. It is they who will lead the followers of Nurgle down south and enact a great swath of pestilence and disease that shall pave the way for Archaon's host to descend upon the remnants of civilization. All those tribes and armies, too impatient to heed Archaon's calling, will follow with them, their axes carving the path and their bodies paving its road. It is mankind which binds the alliance of Order together, and should they fall, the world will soon follow.

The Chosen of Asuryan (Early 2525)


Not long after Teclis made his escape with the broken body of Malekith did the battle finally end. What remains of Makelith's loyalist forces had since fled the battlefield, leaving the traitors to be butchered by the arriving High Elven armies. The body of Tyrion, unmoving yet unbloodied, lay upon the hillside, his grip upon Widowmaker ensures that none could pry it away from him. Morathi, having stayed hidden during the battle, walked without caution through the Elven ranks, her spells of glamour staying the hands of her enemies until she saw Tyrion's body on the ground. Her composure collapsed as she threw herself upon him, trying her best to heal he who Morathi believes is his long-dead husband, Aenarion reborn. His loyal steed, Malhandir, lay upon the hilltop and was near death until Korhil came and treated to him with no less honor than his master deserved. In the following morning, Morathi's efforts to heal him bared fruit and now Tyrion stood upon the Shrine of Khaine and proclaimed himself ruler of all Ulthuan.

Alith Anar was amongst the crowd when this was heard, and as Tyrion spoke, the Shadow King came to the disturbing realization that Tyrion is sounding more like the Witch King with each word spoken. Disturbed by his proclamation, the Shadow King slipped out of view once more even as the crowd shouted their approval. Elsewhere, the elusive Shadowblade, master assassin of Hellebron was able to escape the battle upon a small patrol ship he commandeered from a crew of High Elven sailors. He heads back towards Naggaroth, where he hopes to inform his mistress of Morathi's scheming.

Within the eaves of Athel Loren, the news of Tyrion's descent into corruption urged Alarielle, now the Avatar of Isha, to gather the Wood Elven host and prepare to defend Averlorn from Tyrion's depredation. At first many of the Lords and Ladies of Athel Loren didn't have much trust in their new Queen, even though her soul had since merged with that of Ariel, but after Orion and the Twilight Twins pledged their allegiance to her, those who disagreed kept quiet. Yet when Alarielle finally shared the same vision of the imminent future that Lileath gave to her, all dissent within the council had evaporated instantly and now were united like never before for their new beloved Queen.

In Chrace, Imirik's vigil was ending as the ashes of Ystranna's pyre at last burnt themselves out. When the Prince opened his eyes, it seemed that the trees of the glade had drawn themselves closer. Then he saw shadows amongst the leaves and quickly drew his blade. The Wood Elves levelled their bow, but Araloth, having returned from his journey to save the Goddess Shallya from the imprisonment of Nurgle, ordered his kin to lower their weapons and implored Imirik to stay his hand. Araloth comforted Imirk that they wished to bear witness to Ystranna's passing and that they fight the same cause. Reluctantly, Imirik withdrew his blade and the two made haste south to aid Malekith and Teclis on their journey to the Flame of Asuryan.

The journey to the Flame of Asuryan would've have happened sooner had Malekith's pride not led him to gamble his life to claim the Widowmaker. Now battered, bloodied and broken in body, the prideful Witch King would still walk on his own two feet, only Caradryan was allowed to atleast stand beside him as they entered the Shrine. Even as the Shrine became besieged by the Fleets of Aislinn, the Phoenix Guards and Imirik's Dragon Riders stood firm and held them back. Slowly, the three made their way into the inner sanctum, Malekith making mocking remarks and expressing both doubt and angry like he never felt before. Teclis deemed it to be the anger of one slowly embracing an unwelcomed truth, that Malekith was truly the Chosen of Asuryan since the very beginning.

As the Phoenix Guard parted ways for the three to enter, Teclis reassured the Witch King of his destiny, of all the sacrifices that many Elves have made to ensure that he would finally get here. Malekith again rebuffed and mocked at their supposed weakness, only to fall into a fit of bloody coughs. Pushing himself away from Caradryan's aid, the Witch King took a few staggering steps towards the flame then stopped. Without turning, he finally expressed himself truly, that if he were to step into the flame, his every actions, his every striving up to that point had all been a lie. When Teclis asked if he regretted his deeds, Malekith with a hard voice only said that he would do it all over again. Teclis told the Witch King that nothing about him was a lie, but he was the Chosen of Asuryan and if he can't survive the flame, then their people are lost forever. Malekith didn't reply, but took the final step into the sacred flame. At one moment, he was a black shadow against a brilliant light. At the next, there was just the flame. Then the screaming began and the Shrine soon after vanished beneath the seas.

Battle of the Great Vale


It had been many, many long months since King Belegar led the remnants of his once mighty army out of the collapsed caverns of the Hall of Clan Skalfdon, having to carve their way through debris and entire enemy armies before they were able to reach the gates of their mighty citadel. From there, Belegar received some dire news that the stubborn King refused to believe until now. All of the Dwarf Holds are under siege on all sides by enemies armies. Belegar knew what this meant; there will be no aid coming to Belegar and his battered armies, not now and not ever again. Worse still, the Dwarf Hold of Karak Azul, once the bastion of the southern World's Edge Mountain, has recently fallen under a cascade of Skaven attacks. Without King Kazador and Thorek Ironbrow to lead them, the Dwarfs faltered under the assault. Having had the one chance to escape Eight Peaks before all this began, King Belegar sat alone upon his throne, a prisoner once more within his own crumbling hold as he brooded over the decision he has fatally made for him, his own son and the last of his people.

With the Dwarfs boxed inside the Citadel, the Skaven and Greenskin armies soon turned on each other. Queek, having long wished to kill the upstart Skarsnik for good, led his forces down the mountains and attacked the Greenskin settlement of Grobi Town. When they came upon the settlement, the entire encampment was a ghosttown, with not a single Greenskin in sight. The Skaven set the settlement to ruin, blasting mudhuts with warpfire throwers and toppling massive effigies of their gods with hulking Rat Ogres. Yet as they dismantled Grobi Town, the Vale boomed to the sound of Greenskin war music. Doom Diver Catapults stationed within the mountain peaks let loose entire squadrons of Doom Divers upon the enemy masses just as Skarsnik led his forces out of Grim Gates. In response, massive Blackarc Battery, Warplock Jezzail Sniper Teams and Poisoned-Wind Mortar returned fire and created searing gaps within the Greenskin ranks.

As the two opposing lines closed in, Night Goblin warbands released a wave of Fanatics upon the Skaven battle-lines, creating gaps from which the Goblins soon exploited. Queek led his Red Guards in a massive counter-attack, which drove the Skaven lines right through the enemy center, where Queek personally slew Warboss Drilla and his Black Orc warband, Drillaz Killaz in quick succession. Without their leader to lead them, the Black Orcs, which formed the hardened core of the army, eventually collapsed under the assault. Seeing their center breaking apart, the Night Goblins began to flee with Skarsnik waving them. Yet as Queek was about to screech his victory to the heavens, it died within his throat as the ambush was finally unleashed.

From the skies above, the Doom Divers are coming down in massive droves, increasing in intensity until their black wings darkened the skies. A mighty Warboss named Krolg Krushhelm and his pet Wyverm soon descended from the craggy outcrops, descending upon the enemy battlelines. Packs of Squigs under Frik's Rat-Huntaz storm out of the nearby caves, led by a massive Colossal Squig known only as the Big Red 'Un. Under the masterful powers of Shaman Duffskul, the Night Goblins managed to reanimated an idol of the Greenskin gods into a walking, destructive war-construct. Worst of all, an entire contigent of Goblin Spider Riders under the leadership of Snagla Grobspit and his Deff Creepers, soon enveloped the Skaven at the flanks.

Surronded on all sides, it would seem lost to the Skaven cause, but Queek was fearless and rallied his troops around him. Using his most elite troops, Queek led his Red Guard and a pack of Rat Ogres against Warboss Krolg whilst the second half of the army under Warlord Ikk Hackflay and his Ironskins tries to hold back the enemy ambushers. As more Skaven reserves emerge out of Burnt Cliff and begin to flow around the base of Silver Mountain, the flanks began to stablize while Queek personally fought the Orc Warboss in single combat. Having reached the Grim Gates, Skarsnik also ordered in the reserves stationed within the base of Karak Ziflin. Yet as the battle hang in the balance, Skarsnik was assaulted by a pack of Rat Ogres under the leadership of Grotoose, First Beastmaster of Clan Mors. After much struggle, the Beastmaster was close to ending the Goblin's life before Gobbla ate him up. Yet as Skarsnik returned his attention to the battle, Gobbla began to shiver, blood streaming out of his eyes and mouth. Concerned, Skarsnik leaned towards his closest companion and only friend before a knife burst through the Cave Squigs head.

As the body of Gobbla began to deflate like a half-empty sack of wineskin, Grotoose, his body seared by the stomach acid and half his face already melted away, stood triumphantly upon its corpse. His face contorting into a deep black rage, Skarsnik howled a mighty shriek as he drove his probber high above his head and slammed it upon the Skavens back, shattering the stone beneath him as the body fell. The battle forgotten, the Warlord of the Eight Peaks leaned down upon the corpse of his lost friend, the little goblin repeating its name a few times over. Gobbla was dead, his small, faithful brain leaking out through the hole in the top of his head. Skarsnik laid both hands on the leathery hide of his closest companion. With a mighty howl, the Warlord screamed his name one last time; "Gobbla!"

As the Warlord of Eight Peaks was distracted, the battle soon slipped out of his hands and it became apparent that it was a lost cause. The Idol of Gork was shattered, the Colossal Squig had already ran off into the horizon, and a shadowy Verminlord began to decapitate an Arachnorok Spider with ease. Worst still, Queek had already dispatch the troublesome Warboss after much fighting. Snapping out of his stupor, Skarsnik called it quits and ordered a tactical ordered retreat whilst the body of Gobbla was taken back inside. Leaving his allies to their fate, Skarsnik looked one last time upon the angry face of Queek as the doors to Grim Gate slowly closed right in front of his face.

The Series
Death rises, Empires rot, Gods perish, Kingdoms fall, Chaos reigns, These are the End Times

Timeline
Below is a page compiled by White Dwarf Weekly #52 which contains a chronological timeline of the End Times which starts from Volume 1 to Volume 4.

Source

 * The End Times vol. I: Nagash
 * pg. 2 - 8
 * pg. 9 - 15
 * pg. 16 - 18
 * pg. 19 - 25
 * pg. 26 - 31
 * pg. 34 - 36
 * pg. 37 - 39
 * pg. 40 - 42
 * pg. 43 - 45
 * pg. 52 - 54
 * pg. 59 - 73
 * pg. 74 - 88
 * pg. 91 - 110
 * pg. 114 - 135
 * pg. 136 - 165
 * pg. 174 - 180
 * pg. 183 - 221
 * pg. 222 - 237
 * pg. 241 - 296
 * pg. 299 - 321
 * The End Times vol. II: Glottkin
 * pg. 3 - 5
 * pg. 8 - 17
 * The End Times vol. III: Khaine
 * pg. 10 - 13
 * pg. 14 - 17
 * pg. 18 - 27
 * pg. 30 - 35
 * pg. 36 - 45
 * pg. 48 - 51
 * pg. 52 - 55
 * pg. 56 - 71
 * pg. 74 - 76
 * The End Times vol. IV: Thanqoul
 * pg. 2 - 7
 * pg. 8 - 10
 * pg. 14 - 15
 * pg. 16 - 23
 * The End Times vol. V: Archaon
 * pg.
 * Warhammer Armies: Warriors of Chaos (8th Edition)
 * pg. 18 - 21
 * Archaon: Everchosen (Novel) by Rob Sanders
 * Chapter 1
 * Chapter 2
 * Sigmar's Blood (Novel) by Phil Kelly
 * Chapter 2: "The Conclave of States"
 * Chapter 6: "Sylvanian Border, the River Stir"
 * Chapter 7: "Helsee"
 * Chapter 10: "The Great Western Road"
 * Chapter 12: "Deihstein Ridge"
 * Chapter 18: "Swartzhafen"
 * Chapter 20: "Sternieste"
 * Chapter 21: "Epilogue"
 * The Rise of the Horned Rat (Novel) by Guy Haley
 * Chapter 0: "Prologue"
 * Chapter 1: "King's Meet"
 * Chapter 2: "Lord Gnawdwell"
 * Chapter 3: "Karak Eight Peaks"
 * Chapter 4: "The City of Pillars"
 * Chapter 5: "Treachery in the Deeps"
 * Chapter 6: "The Breaking of the Mountains"
 * Chapter 7: "The Halls of Reckoning"
 * Chapter 8: "The Halls of Pillared Iron"
 * Chapter 11: "A Confrontation"
 * Chapter 12: "Skarsnik's Big Deal"
 * Chapter 13: "Payment for Services Rendered"
 * Chapter 14: "The Hall of Clan Skalfdon"
 * Chapter 17: "Ikit at the Eight Peaks"
 * Chapter 18: "A Gathering of Might"
 * Chapter 19: "War in the Great Vale"
 * The End Times vol. I: Nagash.
 * The End Times vol. II: Glottkin.
 * The End Times vol. III: Khaine.
 * The End Times vol. IV: Thanquol.
 * Warhammer Armies: Warriors of Chaos (8th edition) pg. 18-21, 48.
 * Warhammer Armies: Hordes of Chaos (6th Edition) pg. 98 - 99.
 * Gotrek and Felix: Kinslayer (Novel) by David Guymer.
 * Gotrek and Felix: Rememberers (Novel) by David Guymer.
 * Gotrek and Felix: Slayer (Novel) by David Guymer.
 * Sigmar's Blood (Novel) by Phil Kelly.
 * The Rise of the Horned Rat (Novel) by Guy Haley.