Monday, 10 December 2012

Clashes in the Badlands

 Halal and his growing retinue

The Battle for the Forgotten Tomb

 The Lost Brothers of the Flayed Raven Stubbornly 
hold the tomb against waves of attackers.

The Shadow Alliance fight Heinrich in the 
lost city- (could it be R’lyeh?)

A lot of painting has gone into Shadow 
Alliance and it's looking good.

After single handily slaying a unit of pistolers 
Balethor contemplates his next move

A Knight of the Golden Claw thunders 
through the ruins of the lost city

Johan's Foragers fight for their lives. 
Everyone of Johan's shots proving to be deadly.

The Thunder Mountain Clan is Ambushed by the 
Shadow Alliance  on edge of the lost city

Tyrak and Halal seek one another out to prove who 
has the rightto lead the Ogre clans in the Badlands. 
Tyrak has Halals force on the back foot, 
but underestimates his opponents sheer will power.

Sunday, 9 December 2012

Letter from the Temple of Ulric

Dear Heinrich

It seems the Adalwulf is struggling in the wolf plains.
Through the thick snow drifts a wolf must stalk his prey. Relentless. Starvation only drives him further and harder in pursuit of his prey, until it simply lies down, defeated. Then the wolf savors his kill. Like the wolf, you must out last your prey, until all of the Badlands lie at your feet, defeated.

 We cannot send troops, you need to show a definite economic return for that investment. What aid we can send is some supplies with a quartermaster to equip local levies that you have mustered.

The Temple of Sigmar caught wind of your run in with the "Raven Gods" followers. No doubt our rivals have spies intercepting our correspondence. Dam! Our brothers in arms!! They have long traded their true god, Ulric, for the compassionate man god, Sigmar, and that they will do anything to have us defaced to the Emperor. They forget it was Ulric who aloud Sigmar to have his blessing and achieve to greatness  ...

They are sending one of their agents, Jonas Silvershot, a witch hunter, to "Aid your fight against Chaos". Be careful of him. Keep him close but not too close.

Your Ar Ulric looks forward to your next correspondence 'Noble Wolf'.

Winter is coming

Snr Secretary of The Temple of Ulric

Escalation League (The Empire)

Heroes - 126
Heinrich von Adalwulf (Captain of the Empire) (71)
Enchanted Shield; full plate armour.

Jonas Silvershot (Witch Hunter) (55)
brace of pistols.

Core - 534
Johan's Foragers (10 Archers) (70)

The Golden Dragon's Claw (5 Empire Knights) (140)
Preceptor; musician; standard bearer; Warhorse.

Men Of Devonhiem (34 Halberdiers) (324)
Sergeant; musician; standard bearer.
• 10 Crossbowmen

Special - 90
The Caravan Escorts (5 Pistoliers) (90)

Visions of the flayed Raven

From Hans van peterson- Badlands frontiersman.

When they found me I was in a daze in the forest. I don't know how I got there. I must of been  wandering all night drawn by the chanting. I can't stop the dreams now. I've seen too much, I want to take it back.

I've  found scrolls nailed to the tree's and terrible fetishes hanging from the branches, I stared at them for a long time and felt my existence melt away. 

I wish I had never seen that figure in black , he told me the truth he said- " Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras eget quam odio. Vivamus at nibh vitae lorem sagittis placerat. Nulla gravida sapien luctus tortor ultricies vitae aliquet nunc porta. Nullam urna nisl, tincidunt nec sollicitudin sed, tristique lacinia magna. Etiam quam mi, scelerisque et mattis quis, commodo in quam. Praesent sed enim id diam luctus pharetra. Praesent in nunc leo. Nullam nec congue metus. Ut quis nisl in mi iaculis porttitor. Etiam eget velit quis libero aliquet pharetra. Fusce auctor suscipit ante vel accumsan. Nunc leo diam, euismod sit amet fermentum non,

Hans has since been tried and burned for being a Hertic and witch sympithiser - Jonas Silvershot

The unstoppable Maw Feeders

Something was amiss in the badlands…
The tribe had travelled these paths before yet never had they been accosted by so many hostile factions. The followers of Chaos, The men of the Empire, and Elves both Dark and Fae had challenged the Maw Feeders over the past fortnight. Challenged however may be a strong word as each were swept away in the tide of the Maw Feeders’ charge.
The Iron Teeth were drunk on the sensation of their own invincibility, never broken, never defeated, they chanted old Ironguts fighting songs as they continued on their long march. One Irongut, by the name of Snaggletooth, had shown himself to be louder, stronger and more vicious than the others and would now champion the Iron Teeth in their next engagement.
The same invulnerability could not be ascribed to the Ogres of The Stampede. One would never say it to their faces but on occasion, fear was visible in the eyes of these behemoths. It was as if every bolt, arrow and lance had been aimed squarely at them over the past weeks and rarely had they made it through a battle free of injury. They had been sucked into the Chaos wastes and it had taken days of pummeling Demons into submission before anyone let them out. The greatest insult however was the unfortunate crippling of a Mournfang after tripping on an exposed root!
Near the beginning of their third week in the Badlands, Halal smelled a familiar aroma on the breeze and the Maw Feeders went to investigate. Cresting a rocky outcrop they beheld a small group of their Ogre brethren roasting a Rhinox haunch over a fire pit. Amiable enough at first, these new Ogres began to resist as Halal informed them that they would henceforth be under his command. Their rebellion however was short lived thanks to a mighty hammer blow from Snaggletooth crushing their leader’s skull while he was still buckling on his gut-plate.
Halal slept well that night, dreaming of slaughters past and of those still to come. And in his dreams the voice came to him once more. “You have feasted well these weeks Butcher, and through you, so have I. Consider this a small token of my appreciation”. He woke hungrier than ever, with the taste of blood in his mouth and full of a power so great that his next enemies would pale and quake before him…

Tyrak - Thunder Mountain Clan

They were on the move again.
Food sources had become scarce around the Ogres encampment.
Tyrak and his small tribe had been roaming the great mountain peaks for 4 seasons and had decided venture further west than ever before this time. Heading down the slopes towards the wide open plains of the badlands, small towns and villages started to become visible in the distance,
food and plunder were down there to be had the whole tribe could feel it in there Guts. As they neared the bottom of the mountain they came out at head of a small river that poured out from its source in the hill side.

"Man Flesh!" Roared Tyrak in delight.
A human hunting outpost stood across the river from them, sore and hungry from travel the tribe screamed though the water and the butchery began.
Nothing edible was left untouched the Ogres ripped through there only to leave a rubble in their wake.
The Tribe push on quickly after there gorge - Insatiable was there hunger, this small bite was not enough.
Tyrak had never tasted man, beasts, green skins and the odd dwarf were their diet in mountain.
So sweet was the flesh of man.
He wanted more!!

Tyrak - Thunder Mountain Clan

Heroes - 151

Tyrak -
Bruiser (151)
Talisman Of Endurance; Potion Of Foolhardiness; great weapon.

Core - 226

Mountain Bulls -
3 Ogres (113)
Crusher; Bellower;additional hand weapons.

Stone Crushers
3 Ogres (113)
Crusher: Bellower;additional hand weapons.

Special - 372

Thunder Cats -
2 Mournfang Cavalry (130)

The Brothers Grimm
3 Maneaters (152)

1× additional hand weapon; Immune to Psychology; Scouts.

Ghost -
Gorger (90)

Saturday, 8 December 2012

The Shadow alliance - reinforcements from the forest

As time passed Balethor had noticed growing numbers of strange beings entering his forest.

No longer was it small groups of men walking scared into the forest or marauders looking for trees for fuel. This was something new. Men clad in steel from head to toe and great beasts of flesh riding even bigger monsters.

From small quick encounters with these foes Balethor could tell he needed help the ogres could not be slowed down no matter what they were hit buy. The knights not even noticing arrows as they bounced off there steel shell.

Balethor knew only one place he could go. He headed deep into the forest searching for allies right in the heart he traveled the trees so thick no light hit the ground. As he headed deeper he could feel eyes watching him, he could feel them in the darkness. Balethor knew he was on the right track then he stepped into a clearing where a massive gigantic tree stood proud bathed in moonlight. Suddenly with an earth shattering rubble the tree began to move turning around. Balethor could now see the face of a great wise Treeman.

“Who are you” roared the treeman his voice boomed throughout the clearing. “I am Balethor of the shadow alliance”. “Ha Shadow alliance Ha am I meant to be impressed that means nothing here” “ you think running around in the shadows makes you strong?”. Balethor Stared into the eyes of the treeman angry at what he had said but keeping calm

“I protect these woods, I protect you”

“I DON’T NEED YOU” the trees around shaking and many animals scattered from the Treemans awesome power

“surely you have seen and heard there are more now than ever entering our forest our home, you cannot just sit there doing nothing” Balethors Temper Rising fist clenched by his sides he could feel his muscles tighten as they do just before battle.

The Treeman just stood there staring at Balethor, He could feel his gaze almost like it was looking into him. “You are no ordinary elf I can see great power and determination within you”. “You Don’t understand it yet but it makes a great warrior and leader”

“I shall lead you help Balethor I give you some of the finest warriors in this forest the tough, Resilient Treekin”
Three monstrous Beings emerged from the dense forest behind Balethor each far bigger than Balethor. Balethor had never seen these creatures but there presence on the battle field he felt would be something to behold. As they entered the clearing they bowed before him pledging there allegiance to his cause. ”prove yourself worthy of command and I will send more”.

While travelling back to his home Balethor could not quite understand what changed the treemans mind about him. However this question would have to wait greater enemies were approaching he could see fires from camps across the land stretching out as far as he could see. He knew this was just the first step.

list as follows
Tel' Sindavathar (The Shadow Alliance)

Noble - Alter Kindred, Seed of Rebirth, shield, bow of Loren

The Shadows
12x Glade Guard - muso

The Wicked
8x Dryads

8x Dryads


3x Treekin

House Vadramea Expeditionary force- Whispers of Kthuluu

Sathyn Vadramea brooded darkly as she examined the figurine in front of her. These last few weeks of the expedition had been disastrous, save for this find. Her forces had endured multiple set backs from the forces plaguing this region. She had been forced to magically commune with her mother and request reinforcements, Nurisea’s displeasure ringing in her ears. The one saving grace was the ugly, twisted sculpture found near a magical well that Sathyn had managed to sample before being driven off by yet another Asrai raiding party that seemed to invest these lands like roaches. She had barely escaped with her life and many loyal House Vadramea warriors had lost their lives, but the power emanating from the statuette was intoxicating. The carving of some type of tentacled creature was a loci for Dark Magic, but one that she could not yet tap into. Her scribes had not been able to translate the unknown script on its base but Sathyn did not require them to. She already knew the words and their translation as they had been spoken to her in dreams of dread and blackness many times – Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Kthuluu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn: “ In his house at R'lyeh, dead Kthuluu waits dreaming”.
Sathyn now had the name of her goal, the lost city R’lyeh, within which the fortunes of House Vadramea would change for all time...

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Excerpts from the writings of Viktor von Tepes to his master

After entering the Badlands on your behest, I proceeded to send out my hounds to scout out the land ahead of me. Through these minions I discovered a group of elvish foreigners that appeared to the of the Druchii origin judging on your teachings of war. Recognising that their leader had dark powers, and that she may have been there to thwart our exploration I decided that is was necessary to remove this minor threat, also sating my thirst on these mortals would provide some amusement.
Meeting these Druchii on the field I sent the hounds forward to remove the threat of their crossbows, whilst I managed to hold back the winged horrors from charging forward to rend and tear. The battle was short lived, whilst their bolts made short work of the hounds, our numbers took their toll. Many Druchii fell beneath my sword, though I did not manage to interrogate the elven witch myself as she fled from the horrors, whether she was torn asunder by them I did not know. These lands are filled with the dead, the winds of magic have seep deep into the earth,

The Badlands have the makings for the beginnings of the greatest Vampire Empire, from which we shall rule the world

Monday, 3 December 2012

Clashes in the Badlands

 Heinrich von Adalwulf makes a stand against the Vadramea Vanguard.

The Lost Brothers, ambush the Shadow Alliance

Mighty Balethor of the Shadow Alliance 

The Maw Feeders seize control of the Wyrd Spring

The Shadow Alliance moves in on the Middenheimers

Sathyn Vadramea and her guard capture the Wyrd Spring

Letter from Heinrich von Adalwulf - The Initial Exploration

Friday, 30 November 2012

The Wyrd Spring

It's recorded that the Tilean explorer Juan Cabotos made a journey into an unknown land approximately two hundred years ago, most of the records of his journey were destroyed after his trial in Marienburg. The scant records recount that after a unsuccessful search for gold, Juan discovered an ancient spring, which he drunk from. Afterwards he claimed to be immortal. Most disregard the records as it was claimed he was completely insane, although legend persists that he is still chained up in a forgotten dungeon two hundred years after his birth.
Rumours are circulating that  the spring has been finally been rediscovered by a prospector in the badlands. The time has come for the for the best general to stake his claim and perhaps gain immortality.

Scenario Two

 The well is centre of board.
A unit (any unit type) may occupy it just like a building. It may be assaulted just like a building. It may be shot at just like a building except no hard cover is given (skirmish -1 still remains).
You may also panic "out of" the well.
While fighting in close combat, treat it as normal for a building except taking all modifiers into account for working out combat results (the unit holding the well gets no rank bonus but is still stubborn for being within a building). If the occupying unit flees the victor may overrun (possibly cutting them down) and move into the well to now occupy it.

Controlling the well.
Your Hero of Renown may drink from it at the end of each movement phase.

Roll a dice
1: the hero and his/her unit may make no action except flee this turn, as the vomit uncontrollably.

2-4: the hero and their unit heals 2D6 wounds just like the regrowth spell on the lore of light.

5-6: the hero and his unit gains frenzy and hatred!
The controlling army wins the scenario. If no one controls it, use victory points to determine the victor.
If your hero controls it a secrete bonus for next game week will be given out!

Monday, 26 November 2012

The Secrets of Black Mountain Forest

During the recent clashes in the Black Mountain Forest both Tel' Sindavathar and Darrian Starfire forces have found a Potion of Foolhardiness amongst the bones of long dead warriors.  Both forces may take the item for free in their next clash. It is one use only.

Armies of the Badlands - The Maw-feeders

The raid began much as any other, Halal and forty or so other hulking brutes had approached the Greenskin camp and demanded payment under the usual terms, namely “Giz us everyfing you got or we smash in an’ tear off your ‘orrible little green cocks!”. The Ogres made a show of their might, uprooting trees and smashing huge rocks as the Orcs led boars out of the gates and towards the Ogre fire pit. That night they feasted, eating huge slabs of pork and drinking entire hogsheads of ale before collapsing into a drunken sleep. Come the morning they woke, red-eyed and sore of head; and there is only one way to cure an ogre hangover…

The gates of the Greenskin camp exploded inwards, the wood splintering into thousands of shards as the avalanche of Ogre flesh burst through it. The Orcs had expected the betrayal of course and had prepared accordingly, however nothing they could have done could have stood in the way of the brutes bearing down upon them. Halal observed his tribesmen begin the slaughter as he completed the ritual which would ensure they remained stubborn and completed their grisly work. Grasping the still dripping spinal column of a large boar, he raised it high before stuffing the greasy appendage into his mouth and grinding it with his rock-like teeth.

It wasn’t the first time Halal had attempted to bend the forces of magic to his bidding; numerous battles had turned in his tribes favour after he had wolfed down huge bleeding haunches of meat and implored the Great Maw to bestow ever greater toughness or strength upon his fellows. However this time was different – this time the Great Maw spoke back.

Time seemed to slow… Halal’s vision went grey before reducing to pinpoints of light and finally, to black. His body felt as if it would be rent asunder as his huge muscles contracted out of his control, bending him to the point of breaking. His nostrils were assailed by a foul miasma of rotted flesh, and accompanying the stench there was a vision: An enormous mouth, large enough to swallow a stonehorn as if it were gnoblar and ringed with mighty teeth of rock, bone and metal. And with the vision came a voice, a command… “Feed me!”

“Feed me, Butcher! Bring me all the flesh of the world, from the bitter Greenskins to the floral Elves. Bring me the cold hearts of the lizard creatures and the burned carcasses of the short, evil ones. Bring me the flesh of man, screaming inside his metal skin. Bring me legions of rats, and of beasts, I hunger for all! Bring me more of your own kind, for they shall feast also, and then present yourself to me Butcher, for should you please me in this task I will reward you. Now go, my hunger grows Butcher, and you would not want to incur my… displeasure. FEED ME!”

The magical force that had engulfed Halal now burst out from him, crackling and roaring it erupted from him in a storm of violence, burning, tearing and disintegrating all it touched in a massive sphere of uncontrollable power. 

Pushing one meaty hand into the blackened loam, Halal forced himself to his knees.  Wiping the soil and gore from his eyes he surveyed the Greenskin camp – or perhaps more accurately, what was left of it. A few crude palisades were still standing as was a small section of keep wall, otherwise the smell of boar shit and a few charred, twitching green limbs were all that was left to show the Orcs had ever been there. Not that his party had fared much better; while Halal could hear a few agonised groans, most gurgled into silence before long.

Not all however were lost and after some time searching Halal gathered his few remaining brothers together. Two mournfang riders had chased the first of the Orcs to flee and as such had been outside the worst of the conflagration. Three leadbelchers had wandered into the woods the night before, finding their way back only after the battle was done.  And three ironguts had simply been too tough to die. To these survivors Halal spoke of his vision and of his will to carry out the command he had received. And so, fuelled by the desire to hunt, to feast, and to gain the favour of the Great Maw, the Ogres marched on, into the Badlands…

The Maw-feeders
Halal                                                                                     112pts
Lvl 1 Butcher – Lore of the Great Maw
Additional hand weapon
Seed of Rebirth

The Iron Teeth                                                                  139pts
3 x Ironguts

The Lost Hunt                                                                    129pts
3 x Leadbelchers

The Stampede                                                                  120pts
2 x Mournfang Cavalry

The Scribe of the flayed Raven's

Excerpts Taken from the journal of Ozymandias the Watcher -The scribe of the Flayed Ravens.

Chapter 1.

Excerpt begins " The Flayed Ravens stood like solemn portents of doom against the stormy sky blocking the Maw Feeders advance into the Badlands. For a moment the Maw Feeders paused resembling a pack of petulant quivering lumpy children, surprised that anyone should dare oppose them. The moment passed quickly though and they hurtled themselves at Flayed Ravens.

On the flanks the Black Talon Maurader horsemen delayed they advance of Halal and Blains Marauders and the scum dogs hurtled themselves fearlessly at the Mournfang. Once again the Ogres were given pause at the share audacity of the Ravens. They do not understand every warrior has been given resolve by the tiniest glimpse of their diabolical Raven god's plan.

The battle quickly turned though, each ogre was worthy of a regiment of lesser men and the Ravens numbers were culled and scattered.  It was this moment when Ratasin - my masters diabolical interest was sparked, he left his warriors. Calmly he strode to the top of the hill showing his disdain for the enemy. I swear I saw him enveloped in a hail of red hot leadshot from the lead belches only to emerge untouched.

 He cocked his head curiously and calmly.  He encircled the foe and unleashed hell. From my vantage point I saw Mournfang and lead belches thrown like rag dolls and the Lead Belchers humbled in a blast of blue flame. They are all heathens to doubt the power of our gods" excerpt ends

Chapter 2.

Excerpt begins  " Our advancement to the badlands was hampered somewhat today. We set through the Black Mountain Forest. The woods were treacherous. We ran into contact with an unknown foe. Despite my masters implicit instructions, the Marauders drunk on glory and mead charged off to be split apart from my our main force. I'm sure they will find their way back to us soon. 

I have some theories on the foe. At first I thought they were the Asur, but the Asur would have faced us down in combat as martial honour demands. They instead flitted at the edge of our vision like tiny birds, I believe they may have been a massed force of either fey pixies or tiny gnoblars. They are the only foe I know of that displays that level of cowardice. Still it doesn't explain all the arrows. The ever wise and unknowable Ratasin, decided to depart the battle in a burst of blue flame when it seemed unwise to linger. Praise him. One paltry force of tree monsters decided to confront the Lost Brothers who carved a path of Glory straight through them. The air smelt vaguely of Rosemary and Thyme. It was unnerving" excerpt ends

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Black Mountain Forest

In the Northern Badlands lies Black Mountain Forest, a dark oppressive wood that many war bands and prospectors must pass near as they search for territory.

Some of today's clashes will be fought on the verges of Black Mountain Forest.
The battlefield will be heavily wooded. All woods on this board count as mysterious. If  "Phew normal forest" is rolled a secret bonus is found. If this result is not rolled the last to be discovered forest on the board will automatically contain the secret and count as normal forest.

Friday, 16 November 2012

Armies of the Badlands- House Vadramea Expeditionary force

The Vadramea. A family almost unique amongst Dark Elf society for their incredibly close bonds of clan loyalty and twisted honour. Where most Druchii would happily sell their own kin for progression in the eyes of the Witch King the Vadramea were almost a race apart, often shunned and feared and always walking the fine line between out right disobedience, yet tempered by the sheer quantity of wealth and slaves they brought to Malekith.

One of the first families to discover the Underway, unlike many others they were fascinated by the evidence of an ancient culture previously unknown to the elves. The family's all powerful matron Nurisea was particularly intrigued. After many decades of study a massive expedition was embarked upon, headed by the family's infamous Black Ark "Harbinger of Sorrow". 

Sathyn Vadramea, daughter to Nurisea gripped the hand rail as her cutter sliced through the waves taking her small force closer to their destination. Her mother had become consumed by the discovery of an ancient cult, older even than the elves themselves. Worship of some kind of creature, akin yet fundamentally different to the Chaos gods themselves had been discovered in the Underway. Her mother had been receiving visions, stronger and more enthralling as time passed. She dreamed of an ancient city, sunken beneath the waves. Of artefacts so potent they could affect the Long War itself. Most of all she dreamed of the creature, lying dormant, not dead but not truly alive, waiting until the stars were right to rise once more. And when it did so House Vadramea would be waiting to embrace its power. Sathyn's mission was to gain a foothold in the badlands, where once oceans claimed the land and it was believed the ancient cult had many long lost temples and long lost power waiting to be reclaimed.

The Witch Elves and the Cult of Khaine had come close to discovering House Vadramea's heretical and unsanctioned worship of this cult and so the family had removed itself from Naggarond almost completely and committed to this new path. The fate of the entire clan rested on this expedition, either glorious vindication or ignominious failure. Sathyn was convinced her mother was leading the family to glory once more. She herself had been receiving the visions and had been leading the warriors to worship this ancient deity whose name invaded their consciousness: Kthuluu.....

House Vadramea Expeditionary force:

Sathyn Vadramea: Sorceress Level 1, Metal, Tome of Furion – 115

17 x Vadramea Household Guard (Warriors), spear, light armour, shield, standard, gleaming pennant – 130

5 x Vadramea Elite Guard (Black Guard) – 70, heavy armour, halberds
5 x Vadramea Vanguard (Shades), two weapons, repeater crossbow - 85

Bolt Thrower – 100

Grand Total: 500

Armies of the Badlands- Viktor von Tepes, Vampire Counts

The Tale of Viktor von Tepes

Viktor von Tepes was once a mighty warrior in life, both deadly with blade and lance, seen as the pinnacle of a true knight. He was betrothed to the local Barons daughter, who as the baron had no heir, meant that he was in line to be the next lord. But the Barons brother Charodei incensed that the lordship of the land should pass to one not of their blood plotted against Viktor and his love, usurping the Baron and his family and putting them to death, though Viktor managed to fight his way clear. Forced out of the land he had no choice but to wander the dark forests that surrounded the lands, his mind bent on revenge.
It was in these evil forests during a mighty storm that he came upon a dark and stony manor, and as he was near death from starvation and his wounds from his exile, he begged for entry. The iron gates of the manor swung open, but who had opened the gates von Tepes could not see.
Crossing the yard he could not see signs of life, but he was too far gone to think anything of it. As he went to pound his fist on the black oak door it creaked open, and there stood the Lord of the manor. Crashing down at the Lords feet he begged not for his life, but for vengeance.

The Lord, tall and powerful with alabaster skin, could see as a mighty warrior in the dying mans eyes, and realising that he could have a powerful ally, and lifted Viktor with one power hand to his feet and took him inside. Two days later, Viktor emerged completely healed, strong and lithe, with his skin the same colour as his new Lord whom he was utterly loyal to.

Months passed, and the Baron Charodei enjoyed the spoils of power, till one day a figure arrived at the gates, in blood red armour, and called for the lord of the castle. As the Usurper stood upon the gate walls, he called for the figure to reveal himself, or be shot where he stood.

As the figure removed his helm, the Baron realised he looked familiar, but not as he remembered. The man’s skin was far too pale, his eyes were now a pale blue, and the points of fangs could be seen protruding from his mouth.
“Viktor!!!” he cried, “It cannot be!!”
“Charodei! You took from me my love and life, now I shall take yours!!”
At the cry of the Baron, the archers let loose their arrows, but hit nothing but air. Moving faster than the wind, the vampire burst through the gates, brushing them aside as if they were paper, and begun to slaughter the guard. Nothing but bloodshed of those that had robbed him would now placate the being that was once Viktor von Tepes, and he now bore the blood of Abhorash, one of the greatest warriors the world has ever seen, he was an unstoppable blade compared to the castle guard.
That night the castle burned, only those that were spared were the peasantry and any that had not participate in the destruction of his beloved.

Now Viktor von Tepes strides forth as his Lords greatest warrior having loyally served for over 100 years, and following his latest task, has entered the Badlands to establish the beginnings of an Vampire Empire, but also search for a lost artifact that may give the vampires untold power.

Viktor von Tepes - Vampire Hero
Shield, Heavy Armour, Hand Weapon, Dragonhelm

The Rattling Horde
20 Skeleton + FC
shield, spears, light armour

The Newly Dead
20 Zombies
clothes, occasional missing limb, penchant for brainzzz

The Hounds
5 Direwolves

The Winged Horrors
3 Varghiests

Armies of the Badlands- The Shadow Alliance, Wood Elves

Tale of Balethor

As a child Balethor showed amazing skill with a bow being able to shoot a spider crawling down a tree. As time went on he was brought into the ranks of the glade guard were tales of his abilities spread throughout the forest. Mastering the skill to shoot multiple arrows at once was his greatest feat some saying the arrows split from a single bolt.

One day as the elves where sleeping a shrouded figure came into the heart of the forest where Balethor and his people lived blue flames surrounded his hand calling out he shot balls of blue fire into the trees killing many elves and burning many buildings. Balethor awoke went to his bow and moved to fight. Balethor fired 3 bolts at the sorcerer and just as they would hit him in the chest the arrows burnt up as if hitting a wall of blue fire. They had no choice but to retreat and into the darkest parts of the forest. The sorcerers power corrupted the ground as he moved deeper in the forest here he began to speak as he did fire began to erupt from the ground in waves turning all the trees a dead pale purple. Suddenly a great ancient Treeman the likes Balethor had never seen arose from the darkness this colossal Treeman made the earth shake beneath him. He swung his massive arms at the sorcerer however the aura was to strong. This did not stop the ancient as he attacked over and over every attack sending a shock wave through the forest. Balethor saw his opportunity to strike running behind he drew back 3 arrows and as the Treeman was about to strike Balethor fired just as the Treeman hit the aura the bolts from Balethors bow penetrated the aura striking the head of the sorcerer. An unnatural sound resonated from the slain sorcerer and the fire all around exploded in a great inferno burning everything in the area. The Treeman had moved quickly grabbing Balethor and covered him from the fire. Balethor awoke with the towering form of the once powerful Treeman all around him. He walked through the forest to his home and could see the forest had changed. As he returned to his people they stared at him with shocked looks upon their faces. As he got nearer he noticed he was looking down upon them which he had never done before he looked down on his body and realised he was now no normal elf his slender form had changed. As time passed he did not understand what had happened but he knew he was now faster, stronger and more powerful than ever. With this strength he fashioned a bow bigger and stronger than normal Glade Guard bow. He now moves silently around the forest the silent protector of the forest moving in the shadow killing all that enters not waiting to see their purpose but striking them down in one shot.

Balethor is accompanied only by the best archers in the land all who seek him out to learn and follow him into any battle. With his size and power Balethor commands respect from Dryads and all forest sprits that can see the power of the ancient Treeman surrounding Balethor.

Tel’ Sindavathar (The Shadow Alliance) shroud themselves in dark purple colours to best hide among the strange tainted purple forest. They are the silent keepers of the forest no enemy as seen them just darting shadows and an arrow entering their chest.
Now in these times the Badlands are covered with many enemies that Balethor believes are a threat to his home and understands he must to stray away from his home in order to make sure no one enters his forest again.

list as follows
Tel' Sindavathar (The Shadow Alliance)

Noble - Alter Kindred, Seed of Rebirth, shield

The Shadows
12x Glade Guard - muso

The Wicked
8x Dryads

8x Dryads


Armies of the Badlands- Tzar Azgorath the Unbreakable Prologue-

Tzar Azgorath the Unbreakable

During the age of the first men Karakadon was a living nightmare.
He was a horror that lead hordes of Beastmen beyond counting to war under a single banner when Herds of such immensity had never been seen before. A Beast Shaman of unimaginable power, he had the ability to bind and control any beast to his will even the mightiest Beastlords were pawns at his disposal.
But ages come and go and Karakadon met his end at the hands of Titanic Greater Daemon of Khorne after failing to conquer its mind, in a Blood rage Karakadon was shred and consumed by the Daemon. Before his final breaths were taken he released his spirit to the world and to this day exists possessing and jumping from beast to beast wandering the world.

The clouds pushed across the sky as the final gleam of the moon disappeared from the mouth of the cave and nothing but darkness consumed the depths of the Black Mountain Forest at this moment the Badlands all but stood still, in this time of nothingness Azgorath was born to the world. And from the darkest bowels of the forest he grew.

As a young Gor he joined a Herd lead by an old Wargor Hacorak and they roamed the shadow trails of time past. Hacorak fuelled his herd with a hatred for man and spoke of times when Beast travelled the lands freely and men were nothing but prey to be hunted, nothing more than a hound to be kicked and gouged on. With in this time and time again it stirred the herd into a primal rage where they would breakout into ferocious orgy of combat where dominance and status was earnt, Azgorath still a young Gor but hungry for ascension soon rose as Foe-Render band leader of the Gor.

Hacorak lead for 2 more years during which time their Warband quenched there thrust for battle on human hunting posts, goblin tribes and on occasion there larger Orc cousins and these weird rat men that seem to come out of the same hole every full moon only to find Hacorak and his band waiting. Till one day there herd came across the largest Orc tribe they had ever seen, lead by a furious Savage war boss the size of a small Minotaur. Hacorak instantly went into a primal fury then lead the Herd into a blind battle against the Orcs with a straight charge at the Warboss seeking the choicest kill and glory for himself. Azgorath now a first champion and Gouge-Horn of the Herd seeing is opportunity to ascend further he rushed out to meet Hacorak and challenging him there and then, both now blinded by fury they clashed - teeth and claw - it was over quickly Hacorak lunged for a fast kill and Azgorath stepped back and caught him in motion one hand clasped around a horn the other his neck and ripped out his throat. He held it high and drank from the dripping flesh now overcome by a blood rage he turned and brayed to his herd - they responded in turn and the battle commenced. Carnage ensued both sides of the battle fought in a crazed trance of mindless butchery until all that remained were a scant remanence of the beast herd, Azgorath and the War Boss. Drench in blood primal instincts took over and both champions tossed aside there weapons and went at each, after an explosion fury Azgorath stood still claws sunk deep into the Orc chest feeling the last of his life force leaving is body.

Azgorath now Wargor and General of his own herd leads the remains of his strength south to the heart of the Badlands in the hopes to swell his ranks and bring a new age of terror to men.

Wargor, heavy armour, gnarled hide, great weapon, potion of foolheartiness - 113

The Horde -
15 Gor, Additional Hand Weapon, Foe-Render, Musician - 135

Keen Eye Runts
5 Ungor Raiders - 30

Sure Hoof Runts
5 Ungor Raiders - 30

Rammy - Bestigor Darka's Chariot pulled by the Twins
Tuskgor Chariot - 80

Suzzy -
Razorgor - 55

Matilda -
Razorgor - 55

I think I can make tonight.....
Ill no more later on

Armies of the Badlands- The Host of the flayed Raven, Warriors of Chaos

The Host of the flayed Raven

The first imperial record regarding the army of the Flayed Ravens talks of it appearing 250 leagues deep into Imperial territory in a rare time of peace. Bizarrely the army descended on a single isolated peasants cottage with an ungodly vigour and massacred the helpless inhabitants. They disappeared when a paltry militia force was roused. Their motives have baffled scholars ever since.

The Imperial entry recounts of how the chaos worshippers crushed the Middenhiem that included Hans Gulstrach (Heirnichs great great-grandfather). The warriors of Chaos were in a perfect position to annihilate the remnants of the army and slay Hans unopposed but they instead marched off, for some incalculable reason which has baffled military historians ever since.

The flayed Ravens moves and motives are incalculable most scholars find their actions bizarre and deeply disturbing.

Ratasin- (The Wanderer, The stranger)
The small force of Ravens has been led into the badlands by none other than the Sorceror Ratasin. Some say Ratasin is wandering the world gathering tomes of lost knowledge and one day hopes to challenge the gods themselves. He has stolen tomes far and  wide including some from the Imperial Colleges of Magic, he is a shapeshifter, trickster and particularly loathed by witch hunters.

Ratasin the Wanderer - Chaos Sorceror (90)
Level 1 Wizard; hand weapon; Chaos armour; Charmed Shield. The Will of Chaos; Eye of the Gods.

The Lost Brothers-  10 Chaos Warriors (160)
hand weapon; Chaos armour; shield. The Will of Chaos.

5 Chaos Warhounds (30)
hand weapon. The Will of Chaos; War Beasts.

The Black Talons
5 Marauder Horsemen (85)
hand weapon; shield; spear. The Will of Chaos; Fast Cavalry; Horselords.

Ratasin's dammed
3 Trolls/Skins wolves(135)
blades, spikes, and very bad breath (hand weapon). Mutant Regeneration; Fear; Stupidity; Troll Vomit; Monstrous Infantry.

Armies of the Badlands- Lord Yeurl, Dark Elves

Lord Yeurl, Dark Elves

Lord Yeurl was bored; the youngest son in a line of six brothers Yeurl had risen to power after unfortunate accidents befell all six of his brothers...
Clar Karond the city of the corsairs  & the slave docks.  Their cries filled his ears constantly.  Yeurl with a glare and a flick of his hand sent the messenger running.  Khalek, his cold hearted  Captain Corsairs,  strode into view ‘’my Lord?’’  "Ready the Black Ark we sail for the Bad Lands for  glory and slaves"...
Yeurl supervised the loading of his Cold One Rage, only one slave was foolish enough to get in range, he lost an arm for his trouble.  His Black Arc “Fortress of Dominion” rose high above him.  The thrill of the voyage and battles to come filled him.  He would burn his way across the Bad Lands and return home holds overflowing with slaves and trophies..
He was no longer bored..

Lord Yeurl – Lord of Clar Karond mounted on his cold one Rage
Master, Cold One, Heavy armour, sea dragon cloak, shield, Biting Blade, Luck Stone  = 120 points

Swords of Khaine 5 Cold One Knights, Musician, = 143 points

"The Helldrakes" 10 Corsairs = 125 points
Full Command – led by Khalek

"The Sundered Ones" 7 Shades, = 112 points

= 500 points

Armies of the Badlands- Heinrich von Adalwulf, The Empire

Heinrich von Adalwulf, The Empire

Heinrich, the oldest son in the powerful Middenheim Gulstrach family, learned his father’s business as a merchant trader and attended University in Aldorf when he was younger. Never shy of hard work, Heinrich quickly took his father’s business to be the most profitable in Middenheim. After a few years of building a large personal fortune he abdicated from the head of his family passing the reins to his younger brother and began training with the great masters of arms within Count Boris Todbringer garrison, becoming a master with the sword and an expert in battle tactics. Feeling he needed purpose in life he joined the Temple of Ulric. The Ar Ulric, Emil Valgeir, doesn't normally take recruits at Heinrichs age but his talents could not be wasted.
Winter is coming and provisions must be made.
Heinrich was given a new title, renouncing his past and his weak ancestry, Heinrich von Adalwulf, “the Noble Wolf"  and assigned to set up a trading post in the Badlands, gathering information and resources for the Temple of Ulric.
Heinrich was sent to the Badlands with small contingent of his personal Mercenaries, the Temple’s finest trackers, and the Mighty Wolf’s Hammer. The Success of the Temple’s venture into the Badlands rests purely upon Heinrich’s shoulders!

Escalation League
(The Empire)
Heroes - 68
Heinrich von Adalwulf (Captain of the Empire) (68)
full plate armour; shield.

Core - 310

Johan's Foragers (10 Archers)

The Golden Dragon's Claw (5 Empire Knights) (140)
Preceptor; musician; standard bearer; Warhorse.

The Razors (10 Swordsmen) (100)
Duellist; musician; standard bearer.

Special -
The Wolf's Hammer (Great Cannon) (120)
3× Crewman.

Armies of the Badlands- The Shining Eagles, Wood/High Elves

The Shining Eagles

It had been decades since the last bright sail of High Elven patrol boat had graced the shores of The tower of the Stars in distant Cathay. Barely just in his prime the Noble Darrian led his rag tag force of archers amongst what had remained of the raided once serene settlement of the River of stars. It's population routed and scattered by dark clothed cultists. The ruins of the settlement could still be seen a hollow haunting fa├žade of once proud monumental buildings but now ruined husks melting in the molten darkening gloom of the evenings sunset.

Darrian's mind raced back to the night when strange boats but distinctively Elven had been seen on the horizon and the Old Lord Protector had prepared to welcome our visiting cousins to our arms. Our welcoming faces soon quickly turned to shock as these mad antagonists yelled ritualistic taunts behind a hail of barbed poisoned bolts to slay the peaceful citizens of the River of Stars. Driven by the surprise attack and divided from the Protectors Seaguard defensive force Darrian could only reform with his Hunter Archers. They had taken well to the forested expanse of the new colony and it's every tree and rock for miles around were know to them. So began the rearguard action to save what few of the populace that had narrowly found themselves on the edge of the invasion. Darrians Bow sang a vicious song of revenge as his few comrades fought to save their people. Out numbered but not daunted his arrows found a vital mark more often than not and the invaders paid a large toll when they pursued the Eagle eyed band. Even in the evening night amongst the glow of still rutted burning buildings the clear song of Elven long bow reaped a toll on the Dark Elf ravagers.

Separated from his people, his trusted spear and shield, Darrian stood amongst his few left archer cadre. The garb had subtly changed from the Ulthuan formal to a more utilitarian skirmish. Everyone of his bowmen now carried their great hunting bows that they had escaped that first night of slaughter with and powerful were these in comparison to the standard bow of the Seaguard. The years that they had fought to rid themselves of their invaders had toughened the Warband and only the strongest and most skilled had lasted the long campaign. Tonight Darrian thought, as he plucked his finely crafted well used arrow from his defeated foe, 'We have rid us of the last of the vermin from our shores'. For some reason the main force of ravagers had left and the score or two of the remaining Dark Elves left as a garrison were easily humbled by the Shining Eagles, Darrians archer warband.

The victory was accomplished without the help of the force of nature of the surrounding forest which had rallied around the Elven archers from the wood. The powers of branch and thorn were granted to the fledgling lord from his innate mystical matriarchal line descended directly from Caledor himself. Although he displayed no abilities with spell or scroll he could communicate with the forest in times of dire need and the spirits of the wood would aid him at his desperate call. From graceful Dryads to titanic manifestations of forest spirits of brooding gnarled Oaks his allies were swift to ally vengeance and were not easily quelled. The forest spirits help had established the Shiny Eagles a home within the wood for these past decades and provided for their small community. As the years past the symbiotic relationship could be seen subtly overlapping between the two entities of Elf and Wood. Surely they gained strength from each other as Dryads gained the gracefulness of Elf and Elf gained the hardness of bearing of Oak.

With the last of the Invaders on shore laid low by Elven bow his thoughts went to his people. The settlement had slowly started to rebuild within the forest. The remnants of the Tower of stars eventually finding the scattered bands from the night of the invasion. Although small it was beginning to slowly rebuild and the more commonly used of the communities name had changed from the Tower of Stars to the Stary Wood. Named after the favourite mystic weapons favoured by it's warrior scion sons the 'Starfire arrow' . Forever changed but strengthened by the experiences that affected them. His people were precious to him and their new home was precious to him. Darrians mind traced it's tract to the remaining long boats beached nearby. No longer will we be the hunted we will take the fight to these invaders and they shall know the fear of vengeance...

The Shining Eagles:
Darrian Starfire (Noble, Starfire arrows, /lt Armour, Shield)
11 Glade Guard (Muso, Lords Bowman)
11 Dryads
5 Waywatchers