TEXT: ®
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  2
  Credits
  HORDES  
  created by
  Matthew D. Wilson
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  Jason Soles
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  Matthew D. Wilson
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  3
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  First digital edition: April 2013.
  HORDES: Gargantuans (digital version) . . . . . . . .ISBN: 978-1-939480-29-3  . . . . . . . . .PIP 1051e
  Buried in the mountains across western Immoren, beasts of 
  immeasurable strength and size have remained dormant for 
  centuries. Now Hoarluk Doomshaper and Madrak Ironhide 
  race to claim the power of these terrifying mountain kings 
  before the agents of the Circle Orboros do. At the same 
  time, the Skorne Empire marches their massive mammoths 
  against the nation of Ios, the Circle stand ready with their 
  towering woldwrath constructs, and Everblight unleashes 
  his most terrifying creations yet, attracting the attention of 
  his far-flung brethren.
  HORDES takes a monster-sized step forward with the 
  release of Gargantuans. For years we have been looking 
  forward to bringing these enormous creatures and creations 
  to the tabletop. Strikingly detailed as well as imposing, 
  when these giants take their place on the battlefield, they 
  bring a daunting presence to whatever force they join.
  In addition to all the new opportunities and play styles that 
  come from fielding a gargantuan, playing against them is also 
  an entirely new—and fun—challenge. Not only is it hugely 
  entertaining to imagine one of these creatures pounding its 
  foes into stew, it is equally fulfilling to visualize the earth-
  shaking crash and ensuing exaltation from the troops when 
  one of these enormous creatures falls in battle. 
  HORDES: Gargantuans also introduces warlock units. These 
  units operate like character units, but the character leader 
  is a warlock, with all the powers and abilities that entails. 
  This enables us to explore new team-oriented concepts 
  for our characters and imbue them with group dynamics. 
  Plus, how cool is it that Makeda now rolls with a personal 
  bodyguard of Ancestral Guardians? Very!
  One of the most rewarding ways to play with gargantuans 
  is in games of 150 points or more, and the Unbound play 
  format offers a fun and engaging way to play games 
  of this epic scale. At this size, fielding three or more 
  gargantuans becomes a realistic option—and if you 
  thought adding one of these gigantic warbeasts to a game 
  ratchets up the possibilities, imagine what can happen 
  with several on the same table! 
  Now, with giant gargantuan warbeasts and the rules to field 
  them in epic battles of a similarly massive scale, you are 
  more than ready to unleash monstrous miniatures combat!
  release your gargantuan power!
  table of Contents
  Mountains that walk, part one  .  .  .  .  .  . 4
  gargantuan rules   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 16
  warloCk unit rules   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 19
  unbound rules   .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 20
  theMe forCes  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 45
  trollbloods  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 48
  CirCle orboros  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 66
  skorne  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 82
  legion of everblight  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 100
  Minions  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 116
  Model gallery  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 130
  painting guide  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 138
  Mountains that walk, part two .  .  .  . 144
  appendix  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 156
  
  4
  western Cygnar near Cloutsdown fen, 
  autuMn 608 ar
  The attacking trollkin felt a wave of enthusiasm on seeing 
  the Cygnaran lines begin to break. The forward sword 
  knights bravely held, but only in an attempt to buy time for 
  their brothers in arms to retreat. The long gunners began 
  to withdraw in an ordered fashion, but some were soon 
  overcome by terror and dropped their rifles as they fled. 
  Chief Madrak Ironhide felt it too—the surge of the hunter’s 
  instinct in his blood, the righteousness of victory against an 
  enemy deserving his vengeance.
  As the routed soldiers ran along the beach back toward the 
  swampy morass inland, kriel warriors followed with war 
  cries, hacking them down when they tripped and fell. From 
  the closest hillock pyg sharpshooters picked out targets 
  among those nearing the trees. 
  The great axe Rathrok in Madrak’s hands dripped gore onto 
  the sands as he carved its imperishable blade through the 
  shattered line. He pushed through with a roar, widening 
  the gap and throwing the remaining sword knights into 
  panic. He heard only a heavy pounding in his head, like the 
  beating of great war drums from another era. 
  Every strike of his axe felt like a release—the momentary 
  easing of some primal hunger he could not entirely satisfy. 
  It was the blood frenzy of Rathrok. Some part of him 
  recognized this, but that cautionary voice seemed feeble, 
  distant. The need for violence spread outward from him like 
  a hot wind and he could feel his ferocity echoed in the full-
  blood trolls whose minds were joined to his.
  Madrak and his nearest beasts and warriors swept 
  through the mud-spattered sword knights, leaving the 
  sands littered with armored bodies. They next closed on 
  a wavering line of long gunners whose sergeant had kept 
  them from routing. The soldiers were firing as fast as they 
  could while retreating toward the trees, their faces slick 
  with sweat. 
  One of the champions on Madrak’s left staggered beneath 
  the impact of several bullets to his chest and fell to his 
  knees, weapons tumbling from limp fingers. Others along 
  the line followed. Madrak’s rushing feet devoured the open 
  ground, and he brought his axe around to cleave through 
  a raised rifle barrel. Rathrok was not to be denied. With 
  a sharp twang the rifle was shorn in two, and the man’s 
  chest opened beneath the axe’s edge. He heard the sound 
  of meaty blows as his companion kin and trolls added to 
  the carnage. 
  Madrak strode on, scowling, and closed on a young long 
  gunner who had turned to flee. The youth’s foot caught in a 
  clump of seaweed, and he stumbled and fell. He scrambled 
  backward, pushing with hands and feet as he stared up at 
  Madrak in terror. 
  It was his expression that gave Madrak pause. With 
  great difficulty the chieftain sought to rise above the red 
  haze and phantom drums pounding in his ears that he 
  discovered to be his own heartbeat. He checked his swing 
  midway through, his tendons straining. He could feel 
  Rathrok’s influence, an insidious inky cloud spreading 
  across his thoughts and trying to send impulses to his 
  limbs. It wanted him to kill, to embrace the carnage. 
  Madrak clenched his teeth and fought it off. His choices 
  were his own.
  The long gunner regained his wits, got back to his feet, 
  and turned to run. Madrak lowered Rathrok, prepared 
  to let him go. He heard a sonorous chanting behind him 
  and turned to see Hoarluk Doomshaper approaching 
  with his weapon extended toward the fleeing soldier. 
  There was a surge of primal power as the rune-inscribed 
  stones atop Willbreaker gleamed green. Other glowing 
  runes appeared in the air around the shaman’s arm as 
  his vengeful prayers took form. A spectral wave of hate 
  stretched forth and raked the back of the fleeing long 
  gunner, tearing through armor and flesh. The youth was 
  dead before he hit the ground. 
  Madrak glowered at the shaman for this needless excess, 
  but Doomshaper only walked on. Beyond him, Mulg had 
  lifted a dead trencher into his mouth—clothes, weapon, 
  pack, and all—and was chewing with a satisfied expression. 
  Taking in the rest of the beach, Madrak saw the fighting was 
  all but over.
  “There is no need to hunt them to the last,” Madrak said to 
  Doomshaper’s back. “They are broken.”
  Doomshaper turned to regard him with a frown. “All that 
  has happened, and still you worry about those not your 
  kin,” he said. “Every man we kill today is one less to fight 
  us tomorrow.” Doomshaper looked from Madrak’s bloody 
  axe to the gore covering him. “I am glad you have at least 
  learned to fight with proper conviction.”
  Mountains that walk
  part one
  the great axe rathrok in 
  Madrak’s hands dripped 
  gore onto the sands as he 
  Carved its iMperishable blade 
  through the shattered line .
  
  5
  Madrak’s scowl deepened. He had not spoken to 
  Doomshaper about the strengthening of Rathrok’s hold 
  on him, and he wondered if the shaman were aware of his 
  struggle. He suspected the embittered elder would view the 
  curse as an opportunity.
  Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Borka 
  Kegslayer, who rested his heavy mace casually against 
  his shoulder. He, too, was spattered with blood, but his 
  expression was troubled, lacking his usual enthusiasm in the 
  wake of battle. Madrak could see the belligerent northern 
  dire troll named Rok a dozen paces behind Borka, feasting 
  on the fallen. The other dire trolls and some of the full-blood 
  trolls that had accompanied their war bands did the same. 
  The smaller trolls joined in tentatively, like coyotes trying to 
  steal stray morsels from grizzly bears. They were lucky to 
  get any leavings at all. 
  Madrak did not encourage his own trolls to eat slain 
  human enemies, but he had been forced to become inured 
  to the practice among Doomshaper’s army. The number 
  of dire trolls that had come to join the shaman made such 
  measures a necessity—keeping the great beasts fed was 
  not easy. Madrak seemed the only one concerned about 
  such things; the rowdier trollkin with Doomshaper and 
  Borka cared nothing about human preferences regarding 
  their dead.
  “A poor fight,” Borka groused loudly as he neared, shaking 
  his head. “Hardly worth waking up for. When are we 
  getting to the real battles?”
  Madrak felt his temper rising at this familiar refrain. He 
  said, “In addition to neutralizing an important garrison, 
  this strike will give us valuable supplies, such as blasting 
  powder.” He had instructed his kithkar to salvage as much 
  weaponry and ammunition as they could in order to keep 
  those valuable war materials from the undiscriminating 
  gullets of the dire trolls.
  “So you said last time, and the time before that,” Borka 
  insisted. “This fight was beneath us. Too easy.”
  “Crushing your enemies with overwhelming force is 
  never a bad thing,” Doomshaper said, his voice low and 
  thoughtful, “but Borka has a point.” He fixed his gaze on 
  Madrak. “When we joined forces, we spoke of clearing 
  this region of the Cygnaran Army, of stripping away 
  the defenses of Ceryl and showing them the Gnarls was 
  
  Mountains that walk, part one
  6
  not to be trifled with. Once Cygnar’s second-largest city 
  was defenseless and hungry dire trolls were clawing at 
  the gates, they would beg for our mercy. Perhaps you no 
  longer value your oaths.” He shrugged as he said this, as if 
  he bore no ill will toward Madrak for changing his mind, 
  but his expression was fierce.
  “Our plan stands,” Madrak insisted. “Ceryl will face our 
  might soon.” In truth he had serious reservations about 
  the proposed strike against a city the size of Ceryl, but not 
  because he thought they might fail. The army they had 
  gathered might accomplish even this task, which would 
  indeed create a powerful impression on the humans 
  who had underestimated the might of the United Kriels. 
  But he also saw countless potential pitfalls. “We must 
  proceed carefully. We cannot rouse the humans against 
  us too early.”
  Doomshaper’s expression grew darker. “You give them too 
  much credit. They are weak.”
  “You know the heart of trolls,” Madrak said, “but I know 
  the mind of mankind. You chastise me for it, but I know 
  how they think. If you want anything beyond endless battle 
  and strife, you will do as I say.”
  “I can think of worse fates than endless battle,” Borka said. 
  He was ignored by Doomshaper and Madrak, whose eyes 
  were locked in a familiar battle of wills.
  Madrak continued, “We will advance on Ceryl at the proper 
  time. Let us show them our strength but also prove we are 
  reasonable and can negotiate for peace, given the proper 
  terms. They must see us as a nation, not as monsters.”
  “Better monsters than sheep,” Doomshaper said, but with 
  less intensity. He looked away, to where Mulg fed. “We will 
  do as you say—for now. But time passes, and our warriors 
  grow impatient.”
  Madrak knew Doomshaper was not wrong in thinking 
  negotiating from a position of strength was required 
  if they were to change anything; Cygnar had proven 
  it had no respect for the kriels. But it would be easy to 
  provoke the humans to retaliate in a style the trollkin 
  had never before endured. He felt no confidence in his 
  or Doomshaper’s ability to restrain the dire trolls if 
  they attacked Ceryl. How long could the great creatures 
  stand outside the gates of the city, ignoring its teeming 
  populations, after being roused by the smell of blood and 
  stung by a thousand bullets? 
  The tougher question was: could he hold himself back 
  when Rathrok took him over and filled his mind with 
  the compulsion to slaughter? For the first time in his life 
  Madrak felt an uncomfortable affinity to the dire trolls and 
  the danger of their awakened rage. Ceryl was a city with 
  hundreds of thousands of innocents. Doomshaper claimed 
  he was not interested in terrorizing regular citizens, but 
  Madrak did not trust him. More importantly, he did not 
  trust himself. He looked again at the gleaming runes along 
  the cheeks of the ancient axe.
  Contributing to his unease were haunting images from 
  disturbing dreams over the last few weeks. These were 
  different from earlier visions Rathrok had awakened—
  those had been scenes from the past, from wars and battles 
  of other times and places. These dreams showed the kriels 
  and villages of the Gnarls consumed by fire, lightning, 
  chaos, and bloodshed brought on by a catastrophe that 
  never revealed itself. The images bore all the signs of some 
  approaching doom. Was this something he would prevent 
  or hasten by striking at Cygnar’s garrisons?
  He kept these thoughts to himself as the strike forces 
  withdrew back to the southern Gnarls to regroup with 
  those left behind as well as to lick their wounds and assess 
  their spoils. Altogether casualties had been light, and 
  nearly everyone involved in the battle would be fighting 
  again in days, thanks to the resilience Dhunia had given 
  them. Doomshaper had great sway among the trollkin 
  inhabiting this region and had largely taken over a pair 
  of neighboring villages for encamping their combined 
  armies. Many of the inhabitants of the village had joined 
  their efforts, either helping provide food and other supplies 
  or taking up arms and marching with Doomshaper. Most 
  others had left to stay with kin elsewhere in the forest, 
  hoping to return eventually. 
  Madrak did not feel comfortable in the Gnarls—these 
  kin seemed quite different to him than his kriels from the 
  Thornwood, now displaced far to the east. He missed his 
  mate, Kargess, and blood brothers like Horthol, and all 
  those he had left behind in Grissel’s care. He was wary of the 
  long stares their war parties received from the Gnarls elders 
  who had refused to leave. The councils of elders elsewhere 
  in the region remained aloof, sending stern warnings about 
  bringing war to the forest. 
  Madrak knew that at least some of these elders had 
  been complicit in betraying Doomshaper to Cygnar’s 
  Fourth Army, conspiring in the shaman’s capture and 
  imprisonment. They had turned on one of their own. 
  Could he hold hiMself baCk 
  when rathrok took hiM over 
  and filled his Mind with the 
  CoMpulsion to slaughter?
  
  7
  Grim was short on patience after the long trek and not 
  inclined to indulge their posturing. He touched the brim 
  of his hat by way of greeting and said, “Take me to Chief 
  Madrak Ironhide. Immediately.”
  Muggs stepped forward and puffed out his chest while 
  tapping the snare gun Grim had taught him to use. “Be 
  quick about it,” the pyg said, trying to deepen his voice. 
  Krump grabbed his arm and pulled him back, shooting an 
  apologetic look at Grim, who ignored them.
  The senior warrior’s quills quivered in agitation as he 
  clenched his axe, but one of his battle brothers seemed to 
  recognize the former bounty hunter and pulled the senior 
  trollkin aside to whisper to him. The kithkar gave Grim 
  an appraising look but then waved him forward. Soon 
  enough the warriors were sharing news and rumors with 
  Grim’s scouts while the warlock was directed deeper into 
  the woods. 
  After a hike along narrow trails through the knotted trees 
  they reached a sizable walled village where a large number 
  of trollkin and trolls were scattered both within and outside 
  the walls. Grim recognized many of the wide variety of 
  quitari patterns from Doomshaper’s war bands. Signs of war 
  preparation and recovery were plain, and smoke billowed 
  from village forges where weapons and armor were being 
  crafted or repaired. These kin looked rowdier than those 
  Grim had left in the east, and he saw several contests of 
  strength and potentially dangerous sparring. Many of the 
  trollkin were drinking heavily, which only increased the 
  levels of noise and aggression. 
  As Grim moved through the village he spotted the 
  unmistakable form of Borka Kegslayer standing atop the 
  village’s elevated kuar dueling platform, looking at home 
  amid his boisterous champions. Unable to tell if they 
  were feasting, fighting, or drinking, he decided it was 
  likely all three. 
  He found Madrak close to the smithies, speaking with a 
  soot-stained old stone-beard in a heavy leather apron. As 
  Grim neared he heard Madrak insisting they needed to find 
  more nimble-fingered kin and pygs to help both in altering 
  the grips of human firearms and in preparing ammunition 
  for their scattergunners and sluggers. Madrak broke off at 
  the sight of him. The great albino chief crossed over to him 
  Madrak felt they should be revealed and had thought 
  bringing them to justice would be one of their first tasks 
  together, but Doomshaper had unexpectedly advised 
  against it. The shaman preferred to let his enemies believe 
  their treachery had gone undetected. To what end, Madrak 
  did not know. Perhaps it was better he stayed ignorant of 
  Gnarls politics. This was one of the few great bastions left to 
  the united kriels in the south, and they could not afford to 
  alienate the thriving villages here. 
  For now, Madrak walked among the armed encampments, 
  looking at the unfamiliar and fierce faces of the warriors 
  they had gathered, and pondered his next move. He stayed 
  up late into the night. He was not eager to return to his 
  dreams of these villages on fire, with hundreds of kin 
  screaming in pain.
  After weeks of moving out of sight, it ran counter to Grim 
  Angus’ instincts to make his approach so blatantly as he 
  crossed the stream and entered the eastern Gnarls. The 
  journey across northern Cygnar had been long and 
  wearying, with some time venturing into the Wyrmwall to 
  avoid military patrols and to reconnect with isolated 
  villages he had known would provide him hospitality. 
  Knowing Grissel’s urgency he had made the journey as 
  quickly as possible, taking little time to rest and pushing his 
  small band of pygs and scouts to their limits. 
  None of them were in great spirits, although moods had 
  lightened as they had neared their destination. They were all 
  running lean and hungry, and his full-blood trolls had been 
  getting ornery. This had forced Grim to raid a farmstead just 
  east of the river the day before. A few fat sheep and chickens 
  had managed to pacify them.
  His two most useful and trusted pygs had proven 
  invaluable. Both Muggs and Krump had greatly assisted in 
  hunting and scavenging for food along the journey, freeing 
  Grim to focus on navigating their route to evade military 
  patrols as well as blackclads and other perils. Given most 
  trollkin communities of the Wyrmwall were isolated and 
  suspicious, even approaching these had been dangerous; 
  feuds between neighboring kriels were common in the 
  region. Grim had been through the area before, though, and 
  had friends in unlikely places.
  Despite the arrant openness of Grim’s advance and the fact 
  that his people had stowed their weapons, the first band 
  of Gnarls kriel warriors that spotted them felt compelled 
  to bluster as they approached. The warriors at the fore 
  scowled and clashed axes to shields as they made a show 
  of spreading out warily. More could be seen in the trees, 
  including some with rifles.
  they were all running  
  lean and hungry, and his 
  full-blood trolls had  
  been getting ornery .
  
  Mountains that walk, part one
  8
  and clapped him on the shoulder with one hand, clasping 
  his arm in the other and greeting him with uncharacteristic 
  enthusiasm. “Grim! A surprise to see you here.”
  Grim gave a small smile and inclined his head in respect. 
  “I need to speak with you, Ironhide, Urgently.” His eyes 
  darted over the village smith and the others nearby, 
  several of whom had stopped to stare at the new arrival. 
  Wearing his long coat, goggles, and a broad-rimmed hat 
  and with Headhunter on his back, Grim looked nothing 
  like the locals, who were more traditional in their choice 
  of attire. 
  Madrak motioned toward the enclosed forge room of 
  the smithy, which was private though cramped and 
  uncomfortably hot. Grim waved off Muggs and Krump, 
  ignoring their indignant protests at being left behind. Once 
  they were alone, Madrak said, “I’m anxious for news. Given 
  your expression, I fear the worst.”
  “Not the worst,” Grim said, removing his goggles to 
  hang around his neck, “but it isn’t good.” He succinctly 
  described what had happened at Lake Scarleforth, 
  including Gunnbjorn’s initial successes and the subsequent 
  skorne retaliation. Madrak’s expression darkened the 
  longer Grim talked. 
  “I had thought things might be going well for once. Or 
  better, at least.”
  Grim said, “Grissel sent me to do more than deliver news. 
  I’m to guide you back. It’s been many months now, and 
  everyone hopes you are ready to return. Doomshaper too, 
  if he’ll willing.” After a pause he added, “Even Borka, if 
  we must.”
  Madrak stared at him for long seconds, his expression 
  suggesting inner conflict. But when he spoke he only said, 
  “I cannot return. I have obligations.”
  Grim tried to match Madrak’s stare but found him 
  unyielding. During the trek Grim had prepared himself 
  mentally for arguing with the albino chieftain, trying to 
  invent ways to persuade him. He could not remember 
  most of what he had rehearsed. “Your people need you,” 
  he said simply, and saw this had an impact. “They are 
  safe, but I doubt it will last. Grissel found a place away 
  from the skorne, but it is not good ground. We need to 
  consolidate our strength. With you here and her there, 
  we are divided.”
  Madrak’s expression did not change. “I hear you, Grim. 
  Times have been hard for Grissel—for everyone. But I 
  cannot return, not yet. I am sorry you traveled so far for 
  so meager an answer.” He paused a moment and said, “We 
  could use you here, if you want to help. Even if not, our 
  hospitality is yours. Eat, drink, rest. As long as you wish.”
  Grim frowned but did not argue; it was clear he would 
  make no headway. This left him in a quandary. Grissel had 
  sent him on a mission, and he took pride in his reputation 
  for getting his quarry. On the other hand, as a bounty hunter 
  he’d never tried to bring in someone like Madrak Ironhide. 
  How much simpler it would be if he could simply tie up 
  the stubborn chieftain, put a sack over his head, and haul 
  him east. 
  Still, even with the most difficult bounty, there was always 
  a way. He could be patient. He had several days, perhaps 
  even weeks, before he was obliged to return to Grissel—
  enough time to convince Madrak his responsibilities lay 
  elsewhere or perhaps help resolve whatever bound him to 
  Doomshaper. As Grim left the sweltering forge he decided 
  to speak to the Shaman of the Gnarls directly.
  Hoarluk Doomshaper had taken one of the largest round 
  stone buildings, once occupied by the village chief. 
  Wherever his journeys took him, when not otherwise 
  embroiled in conflicts, kriel politics, or recruiting warriors, 
  he sought out and studied krielstones. He paid particular 
  attention to those stretching back to the earliest days, when 
  the first stone scribes had mastered the Molgur rune system 
  and put it to their own use.
  Here in his chambers, a variety of his oldest scrolls 
  had been extracted from their protective tubes and 
  unspooled atop several tables to show pertinent sections 
  for comparing and deciphering. Many of the passages he 
  was most interested in were rubbings from particularly 
  ancient krielstones, some using older variants of the 
  Molgur alphabet and not easy to interpret. Many were 
  partial or incomplete; some of the scrolls themselves had 
  been damaged, but more often they had been taken from 
  krielstones that were eroded or fractured. 
  The focus of his work had been on the oldest legends 
  of the kin, tales already ancient when the Molgur had 
  dominated the Wyrmwall and passed by word of mouth 
  from generation to generation before eventually being set in 
  the first krielstones. These passages related to a catastrophe 
  in the primal days of the kin, when the world was in flux 
  and the fertility of Dhunia and virility of the Wurm began 
  to populate the world. Legends of these times spoke of 
  the Mountains That Walked, primal giant trolls that had 
  griM tried to MatCh 
  Madrak’s stare but  
  found hiM unyielding .  
  “your people need you .”
  
  9
  eventually become enraged at the intrusion of trollkin into 
  their territories. When those trolls came down from their 
  mountains eating or destroying everything they saw, the 
  kin had been forced to find a way to subdue them. Those 
  trolls had somehow been chained below the earth, trapped 
  for the ages. Earthquakes were said to derive from their 
  thrashing against their bonds. 
  Chroniclers and shamans interested in the old tales knew 
  variations on these myths. Most kin dismissed them as 
  allegorical or stories to frighten the young. Doomshaper 
  had long suspected otherwise. He had been piecing 
  together clues over the years and increasingly believed 
  this story was too pervasive not to hold a kernel of truth. 
  All he had learned suggested the dire trolls were not 
  the first and most primal of Dhunia’s strong-blooded 
  children. The legends said the Mountains That Walked 
  would not die from age or hunger but persisted immortal 
  and hidden. Not only did he seek proof of their existence, 
  but he also worked to discover the means by which they 
  might be unleashed once found. 
  His fingers tracing the surface of one of these ancient texts, 
  he heard a visitor approach. He clenched his teeth but 
  ignored the newcomer completely. He had instructed his 
  warriors and champions not to trouble him; perhaps they 
  needed sterner orders. 
  He smoothed out the scroll with his left hand while using 
  the charcoal in his right hand to inscribe translated runes on 
  a fresh parchment. After a moment, the intruder cleared his 
  throat. Doomshaper continued to work. The visitor stepped 
  closer. “Doomshaper?” he asked at some length. “It’s Grim 
  Angus—”
  “I know who you are!” Doomshaper snapped without 
  looking up. “I did not invite you in. Go away.”
  “We need to speak,” Grim insisted. “It’s important.”
  The shaman kept his eyes on the rubbing. “Nothing is 
  more important than this work. If you must speak to me, 
  you can wait.” 
  He could feel irritation radiating from the ordinarily 
  reserved Grim Angus, but Doomshaper knew he would 
  wait. If there were immediate peril, he would have gone to 
  Madrak or Borka, and he had come as a supplicant. Every 
  encounter between kin of their caliber was a battle of wills, 
  and the Shaman of the Gnarls knew the importance of 
  ensuring the young respected their elders.
  From the corner of his eye Doomshaper saw Grim step 
  back and lean against the stone wall, watching him. After 
  several minutes, he began pacing. The shaman scowled 
  at his parchments but did not pause in his work. He had 
  disregarded far stronger distractions than this. He heard 
  Grim walk to the table nearest him to peer at the various 
  scrolls open there. Suddenly the younger warlock said, 
  “I’ve seen this symbol. The Mountain That Walks.”
  This was so unexpected Doomshaper broke away from his 
  work to look at the other warlock for the first time since 
  he had stepped into the building. He asked incredulously, 
  “You’ve seen this?” The rubbing before him was from 
  the only stone relating the tale he had ever found. Was it 
  possible the hunter had stumbled upon another? More 
  likely he was simply mistaken. To the untrained eye, many 
  of the runes looked similar.
  Grim stepped closer and pointed to one of the oldest scrolls, to 
  an ancient glyph prominent at the top of a heavily fragmented 
  rubbing. “This one. There was a village in the Wyrmwall on the 
  way here, Jacinth kriel. Have you heard of it?” Doomshaper 
  impatiently signaled for Grim to continue. “An isolated bunch, 
  not very friendly. They had a krielstone with that symbol. It 
  caught my eye since I’d never seen it before.”
  “It is very old,” Doomshaper allowed, unable to hide his 
  interest. 
  Grim continued, “The elder who’d offered me hospitality told 
  me what it meant. There was more written beneath it, beyond 
  what you have there.” He waved to indicate where the lower 
  half of the page was only half-covered in runes, at a diagonal 
  slant. It had been taken from a severely damaged stone.
  “Show me.” Doomshaper restrained his excitement even as 
  his pulse raced. Grim was young and had been raised in 
  cities. He would not know the old runes.
  “I might be able to recall some of the symbols,” Grim said, 
  his head tilted thoughtfully. “My memory is very good. Had 
  to be, in my former line of work.” He took off his hat and 
  turned to face Doomshaper more directly, his eyes sharp. 
  “Of course, I might remember better if you were to listen to 
  why I came here. One less thing on my mind.” 
  Doomshaper frowned. He begrudged the other warlock any 
  more of his time, but the prospect of learning more of the tale 
  he had been chasing for so long was simply too enticing to 
  refuse. Finally he motioned for Grim to continue. “Madrak 
  says he has unfinished business. Obligations to you. Maybe 
  you can let him off the hook a little earlier than planned?”
  Despite himself, the Shaman of the Gnarls was impressed at 
  the gall of the bounty hunter. “Madrak’s obligations are his 
  own. But perhaps we can find a way to expedite things. Now, 
  “i’ve seen this syMbol .  
  the Mountain that walks .”
  
  Mountains that walk, part one
  10
  show me!” He thrust the piece of charcoal at Grim and then 
  stepped back to watch as the younger trollkin attempted to 
  reconstruct the missing runes. Doomshaper found himself 
  holding his breath as he realized they described a place set 
  amid a chain of mountains he felt certain he knew.
  northern thornwood
  While leading her forces into the northern Thornwood 
  alongside her twin sister, Rhyas had almost been able to 
  forget she was anything but a Nyss, a creature of the frozen 
  cliffs and peaks of the Shard Spires. She had been able to see 
  miles in every direction in the 
  crystal air of those peaks. This 
  forest, on the other hand, closed 
  in upon her and limited her 
  senses, filling her with dread 
  and loathing. It felt inimical to 
  her kind. She had sensed this 
  during their last crossing, when 
  the entire Legion of Everblight 
  had hastened toward the Castle 
  of the Keys, having pulled up 
  their encampments in the frozen 
  north of Khador. A similar 
  urgency filled her now, its 
  origin not within her mind yet 
  inseparable from it. 
  On that previous trek they 
  had made this portion of the 
  journey largely underground, 
  taking advantage of the ancient 
  caves and vast tunnels riddling 
  Immoren, many of them known 
  to Everblight. Now venturing 
  below was too risky, not until 
  they were near their quarry, 
  for Cryx had tremendously 
  expanded their control over 
  those 
  tunnels. 
  Rhyas 
  was 
  surprised to find she preferred 
  the tunnels to the dense trees. 
  Both 
  were 
  enclosed 
  places 
  with 
  limited 
  visibility, 
  yet 
  underground she knew where 
  to expect enemies. Here, a threat 
  could emerge from any side. It 
  made her anxious. 
  Increasingly 
  she 
  preferred 
  sending 
  her 
  mind 
  out 
  to 
  perceive the forest through her 
  dragonspawn. The trees did not 
  hinder them, particularly those 
  flying above the tree tops. Seeing this way had become so 
  instinctive Rhyas sometimes did not even realize she was 
  doing so. Other than the nephilim, her spawn felt like 
  extensions of herself.
  Suddenly she felt the kiss of metal against her neck. The 
  world slowed as the bullet pierced her skin and the phantom 
  of death crossed her mind. Instinctively she sent the injury 
  away, and her flesh became whole even as a great wound 
  opened on the shoulder of the nearest nephilim soldier, 
  with whom she had maintained an arcane rapport.
  
  11
  Rhyas immediately drew on her blighted power to cloak 
  herself in darkness and tumbled behind the nearest tree as 
  another shot rang out. She sent her harriers and seraphs 
  wheeling in the direction from which the rifle reports 
  echoed. Through the senses of the nearest harrier she 
  perceived a Khadoran lying in wait with a massive scoped 
  rifle. Through their connected athanc shards she said to her 
  sister, “Saeryn, there are Widowmakers in the trees.” She 
  conveyed the location of the one she had spotted by giving 
  an impression of what her spawn had seen and added, “I’ll 
  take care of them.”
  “No,” Saeryn replied, just as quickly. “Keep moving south. 
  The Cryxians have been driven to the surface, and you must 
  reach them.”
  Rhyas sensed Everblight’s agreement with this command 
  and reluctantly obeyed. She corrected the course of her 
  dragonspawn as she leapt from the cover of the trees, allowing 
  a single harrier to strike from the sky onto the Khadoran that 
  had fired upon her. Before the marksman could reload, the 
  harrier was upon him, crashing through the branches to slice 
  open his throat with its scythe-like talons. 
  She continued south, drawing on the mystical essence 
  of her nephilim bolt thrower to give her easier passage 
  through the underbrush. With each leaping stride she was 
  able to glide briefly through the air, passing over roots 
  and branches that would otherwise have entangled her. 
  Now that their positions had been revealed, more shots 
  rang out from long-ranged Khadoran rifles, and one of 
  her harriers dropped from the sky, pierced by multiple 
  bullets. The others dipped lower and flew evasively as 
  they sped out of range, closer to Rhyas. “How do you 
  know what Cryx is doing?” Rhyas asked, wondering at 
  having been left in the dark. 
  The link to her twin conveyed Saeryn’s impatience, as was 
  often the case when she was asked to explain herself. “I’ve 
  scattered several spawn deeper into the forest, and one 
  found where the earthquake forced the Cryxians to emerge. 
  They killed it, but not before I saw them.” She passed along 
  the brief and confusing images of what a harrier had seen in 
  its final moments, before it was torn apart by necromantic 
  forces. Given the distance, Rhyas was stunned her sister had 
  been able to stay in contact with the creatures. Yet another 
  ability her twin had kept from her. 
  “There are more Khadorans converging behind those 
  Widowmakers,” Saeryn noted, her tone unworried. Saeryn 
  and her immediate escort were behind Rhyas’ fore group, 
  and Rhyas worried about her as she moved ahead. “They 
  must have tracked us from the remains of that patrol.” 
  This referred to a small skirmish with a border patrol at the 
  forest’s periphery. It had been a quick clash, but Everblight 
  had not allowed them to stop to properly cover their trail. 
  They had left a small group of striders behind to obscure 
  their tracks, but clearly those hasty efforts had been too 
  superficial for the Khadorans.
  “Let us fight together and crush them,” Rhyas replied, 
  itching to put her blade to work. 
  “You must go on,” Saeryn insisted. “I will join you as soon 
  as these are dealt with.” Lending emphasis to Saeryn’s 
  words was Everblight’s looming presence in the back of 
  Rhyas’ mind, pushing her south, toward the Cryxians 
  Saeryn had found. Another athanc might be there, waiting. 
  Everblight’s desire for it was overwhelming. “We’re the 
  closest, so we must engage the enemy until reinforcements 
  arrive.” The entire conversation had taken but moments in 
  the connection between their minds. Saeryn was already 
  diverting her forces to deal with the pursuing Khadorans.
  Rhyas was surprised to learn they were nearest to the 
  Cryxian column, and she began to feel resentful about 
  Saeryn keeping back secrets. Were she and Vayl in private 
  communication? Ever since their journey through the Iosan 
  caverns while assisting Thagrosh, it seemed to Rhyas that 
  her sister and Vayl had become strangely close, consulting 
  with one another on larger decisions for the Legion. “What 
  of Lylyth?” she asked.
  “She has been recalled north, to gather reinforcements,” 
  Saeryn said. “I need to concentrate on this fight, Rhyas. Do 
  as you are told!”
  The words stung, but only slightly; Rhyas was accustomed 
  to her sister’s moods and so pressed on, signaling to those 
  leading her swordsmen, hex blades, and legionnaires to 
  follow her lead. That last news was intriguing. What sort 
  of special reinforcements could possibly be important 
  enough to divert Lylyth away from the athanc they had 
  been sent to recover? 
  starspoint ridge stones,  
  wyrMwall Mountains
  The exodus from the Hawksmire River nexus was hasty 
  even by the standards of the Circle Orboros, and the 
  aftermath brought considerable confusion and frantic 
  activity. The battle fought there against the skorne to hold 
  them at bay from the vital ritual conducted by Baldur 
  and Morvahna had been only narrowly won. Though the 
  the world slowed as the  
  bullet pierCed her skin and  
  the phantoM of death  
  Crossed her Mind .
  
  Mountains that walk, part one
  12
  ritual had been completed before they made a hasty retreat 
  through the portal opened by Mohsar, it was impossible 
  for many to weigh the losses that had been suffered. There 
  was a sense of uncertain victory but little celebratory spirit, 
  as so few understood what had been won. This was often 
  the case with the Circle’s junior druids, who rarely entirely 
  comprehended the goals of their superiors, but this time the 
  sentiment spread even to the upper ranks. 
  Morvahna walked among them and took in their mood 
  and attitudes as she loaned her power to knit the injuries of 
  some of those she passed. Her mind performed automatic 
  triage, ignoring superficial suffering and prioritizing those 
  who would be of greatest service in the days ahead. Less 
  experienced druids could bleed and suffer, gaining scars 
  that would strengthen them if they survived. She was only 
  inclined to assist those with more valuable skills or lore.
  Wayfarers were the most active of those present, as they 
  always were in such times, appearing amid crackling 
  thunder and vanishing just as quickly as they received or 
  related urgent messages or assisted others to this place. 
  Stone keepers were situated around the great rune-inlaid 
  stones of the site, unmoving yet as busy as the wayfarers. 
  The ley line network was being taxed, as was always 
  the case when the Circle was at war. Morvahna sensed 
  additional stresses in the deep running channels below the 
  earth, residual shockwaves from the ritual.
  Looking at the others moving through and gathering into 
  small groups, she saw confusion and strain on many faces. 
  Even though she had assisted in Baldur's ritual, she felt 
  uncertain about the merits of what had been achieved. 
  The losses were fresh and vivid. The faces of pragmatic 
  druids she knew had previously spent the lives of Wolves 
  of Orboros without grief seemed disheartened. Morvahna 
  was conducting her own tally as she took in those gathered. 
  She saw that Kaya, while still unconscious, was well tended 
  by her wolf companion and Grayle. She was strong and 
  her connection to Orboros powerful; she would recover. It 
  would be better to allow her to recuperate naturally. 
  Grayle scowled and his upper lip twitched into a snarl 
  as Morvahna started to walk past. His expression was 
  strikingly similar to that of Laris, whose eyes were locked 
  on her. “Heal her,” Grayle said in a commanding tone. 
  Morvahna narrowed her eyes at him, and he seemed to 
  remember he was speaking to a superior. “Please,” he 
  entreated.
  Another time she might have ignored him, but Morvahna 
  was aware she might need his abilities soon. She let her 
  expression soften and said, “She needs rest. Her contribution 
  to the ritual was draining. Healing her would do her no 
  favors.” His jaw clenched at this, clearly blaming her for 
  contributing Kaya’s blood to Baldur’s rite. 
  “Walk with me for now,” Morvahna said, her tone not sharp 
  yet resonant with authority. 
  Grayle stood and clenched his hands, as if his fingers missed 
  his blades. “I was commanded to protect her,” he said.
  Morvahna swept her eyes across those gathered in the 
  clearing. While many were wounded, it was nonetheless 
  a sizable gathering of the forces of Orboros. “She is safer 
  here than anywhere else. I have need of you.” When he 
  still hesitated she sighed and added, “It was Baldur who 
  commanded you? I intend to speak with him. Come.” She 
  could have reminded him of her rank, as the instinct for 
  obedience was strong with him, but she knew it was better 
  in this case to persuade.
  She did not wait to see if he followed but walked on. She 
  could sense him not far behind her and smiled. As she 
  circled the grounds, she took in the totality of the situation, 
  assessing not only the scope of the force gathered but also 
  her standing among them. This was a mental exercise 
  Morvahna conducted constantly, like a spider testing the 
  strands of a web. Her authority had been carefully crafted 
  but required perpetual vigilance to maintain. The looks 
  that came her way were curious but also slightly hostile, 
  more bold and defiant than she had seen in years. Too 
  many overseers were willing to hold her gaze for several 
  seconds before looking away. Her political clout among 
  the potents and subordinates had suffered because of the 
  failed trial against Krueger. 
  A temporary setback, she was sure. Respect among the 
  Circle was a slippery commodity. It fell to her to restore her 
  standing by subtler means. In recent years she had relied 
  too much on sternness, but she knew how to manipulate 
  with a compliment as well as a rebuke. She was certain she 
  could resume her place.
  On finishing her circuit she felt the strong urge to return 
  briefly to her island abode, where her powers had been 
  bound into the supernatural means to communicate with 
  and marshal her far-flung allies. She had more pressing 
  business, though; several key figures were missing. This 
  included most notably Omnipotent Mohsar, who had used 
  his power to allow for the group exodus, but also Baldur, 
  there was a sense of 
  unCertain viCtory but  
  little Celebratory spirit,  
  as so few understood  
  what had been won .
  
  “leave that to Me,” Morvahna 
  said . “i won’t allow theM to 
  reaCh venethrax’s prize .” 
  13
  who had instigated the ritual that had compelled their 
  gathering. Given his previous urgency she could not fathom 
  what might have diverted him.
  Baldur’s return to the living had been a shock, as had been 
  witnessing the primal power he now possessed. She had felt 
  affronted when he had ordered her to assist him, but that 
  had quickly been replaced by curiosity. After his body had 
  been destroyed, Baldur’s soul had witnessed things few 
  mortals had ever returned to relate. Morvahna hungered 
  to learn what had transpired beyond the veil; she had 
  spent decades studying that knife’s divide, manipulating 
  the fragile thread of life. Not that she had time to question 
  Baldur. In the face of his urgency she had felt compelled 
  to lend her aid—he had been a reliable ally in her fights 
  against Everblight’s legion. 
  With Grayle behind her, she stepped to the nearest of the 
  massive rune-covered stones and placed a hand upon 
  its surface. Through her skin she could feel tremendous 
  power flowing through the pillar, which was warm and 
  still thrumming from transporting the recent arrivals. 
  Her brow furrowed in concentration as she sent her will 
  outward along the ley line conduits below the soil, seeking 
  for traces of Baldur. Not knowing where he might be made 
  this difficult, but he had recently used these conduits, and 
  she could follow the fading trail he had left. 
  Morvahna felt a sudden electrical sensation as the hair 
  along her arms rose and there was a connection. A ghostly 
  image of Baldur’s face appeared before her as if shaped 
  from luminous fog. Knowing she might not be able to 
  maintain this long, she immediately asked, “Baldur, 
  where are you?” 
  “Far from you,” Baldur answered, his voice muffled and 
  distant. “Did everyone make it through?”
  “Yes, except Mohsar. Did he take you with him?”
  “No. Wurmwood summoned me, and I was in no position 
  to refuse.” He paused before saying sternly, “Someone must 
  intercept the Legion. I am in no position to do so.”
  “Leave that to me,” Morvahna said. “I won’t allow them to 
  reach Venethrax’s prize.” She was aware that several other 
  druids of significant rank were nearby, including Tamora 
  the Longshadow and Bradigus Thorle the Runeshaper. It 
  was to her benefit that such others witness that her efforts 
  were in alignment with Baldur the Stonesoul.
  “That must not happen,” Baldur affirmed. “Do not 
  underestimate the foe.”
  Morvahna drew herself up and said, “Do not forget, it was I 
  who gathered us to stop them at the Castle of the Keys. With 
  greater support I might have prevented all of this.”
  “A fair assessment,” Baldur said. “Let us leave past 
  mistakes in the past. I expect those who survived the ritual 
  are unready for another battle, but we have no choice.”
  “I have reserves not yet called upon.”
  “They will not be enough,” Baldur said bluntly. Morvahna 
  blinked in surprise, wondering what he knew of her 
  influence and alliances. His spectral face looked past her to 
  the former Wolf of Orboros with her. “Grayle will join you?”
  “That is the plan,” she said.
  Behind her, Grayle started. “What of Kaya?” he asked.
  Ignoring him, Baldur asked Morvahna, “What is your 
  assessment of her condition?” He sounded more detached 
  than she would have expected given he had all but raised 
  Kaya. Perhaps such emotions did not reach him as strongly 
  since his return. 
  “She needs rest, but her wound will close. She is no use to 
  us as she is, and Grayle cannot speed her recovery.”
  Baldur inclined his head toward Grayle and said, “Go with 
  Morvahna, and do as she asks.” To her he said, “You will 
  need others.”
  Morvahna hesitated and then said, “There is an untapped 
  army already prepared for war, if I can reach and persuade 
  the one who has gathered them.” 
  Baldur’s misty brow furrowed. “He will not welcome you.” 
  The image began to fade as the connection waned.
  “I will persuade him,” she insisted. “There is no other way.” 
  Whatever else Baldur might have intended to say was lost 
  as his face dispersed into shapeless vapors. Morvahna 
  turned and walked to gather those still capable of fighting, 
  ignoring Grayle’s brooding expression as he followed 
  behind, trapped by bonds of duty.
  Krueger the Stormlord received the arrivals on an 
  elevated ridge with his army arrayed around him. They 
  stood with weapons held ceremonially, though they were 
  prepared to respond should violence erupt. A discernible 
  tension and watchfulness marked the posture of most, 
  particularly the ranking Wolves of Orboros. Some of his 
  forces had just emerged from a small but bloody skirmish 
  
  Mountains that walk, part one
  14
  with Menite border forces as they made their way west 
  across the Black River from the desert. Determined not to 
  show weakness, Krueger had ensured the wounded were 
  kept out of sight.
  The position of his army forced the arriving column to 
  walk through a long armed gauntlet before entering the 
  clearing. Krueger stood on a steep incline looking down 
  on them like an attending king. His back was to the rising 
  sun as it emerged over the hills and glinted off the river 
  rushing through the gorge behind and below him. A 
  little lower, Wolf Lord Morraig sat comfortably upon his 
  muscular lupine mount, which was cleaning one of its 
  front paws. 
  Morvahna rode with stately elegance at the fore of the 
  approaching force, seated sidesaddle on a muscular 
  Skirovik mountain goat caparisoned for battle in bronze 
  armor. Walking next to her was Grayle the Farstrider, 
  looking competent and ready to do battle. Behind them 
  were Morvahna’s preferred escorts, her particularly 
  protective and loyal pureblood warpwolf and an albino 
  Gnarlhorn satyr of impressive size. Next came Nuala the 
  Huntress alongside her veteran bloodtrackers. Tharn wolf 
  riders brought up the rear, grisly war trophies and other 
  spoils of war hanging from their belts and weapons. 
  Krueger watched their approach warily, keeping his 
  expression aloof. His instincts told him Morvahna was 
  not here for battle, although Grayle’s presence could not 
  be dismissed. Novice though he was, the Farstrider was 
  a formidable warrior. Krueger wished Kromac were at 
  his side to better convey the full range of his own allies, 
  but he and his Tharn were otherwise occupied nearer the 
  Glimmerwood. More than anything he wondered what had 
  prompted Morvahna to seek him out in the first place.
  “Morvahna the Autumnblade,” he began, affecting an air 
  of nonchalance. “You have come a long way, but time is 
  precious and there is nothing I want to hear from you unless 
  you have come to swear fealty.”
  He expected a biting rebuttal. Their conversations had long 
  had a certain natural course, like a river that had carved 
  a deep bed through the landscape. Morvahna dismounted, 
  leaving her blade with her mount. She stepped forward and 
  spoke in carefully enunciated tones, “Call me Autumnblade 
  no more, but Dawnshadow, to represent the urgency of my 
  cause. Krueger the Stormlord, I come before you today as a 
  supplicant, not as a rival. I entreat you to attend my words.”
  Krueger heard a surprised intake of breath among those 
  gathered, particularly the other ranking druids, and 
  regarded her with narrowed eyes. Titles were important 
  among them, inextricably tied to politics. That she had used 
  the one he had recently claimed was as unexpected as her 
  posture. Adopting a new title for herself was also significant 
  and not something done lightly. Morvahna met his eyes 
  serenely. She radiated dignity, but with an air of unusual 
  vulnerability. A manipulation, surely, but to what end? He 
  had meant to send her away, but to do so now would look 
  like fear. “I will indulge you,” he said with a casual wave of 
  his hand. “Speak.”
  “I come here on a matter of vital significance to our order,” 
  she began.
  “Naturally,” Krueger said with a cynical smile. “Such is 
  always your claim. You said something similar before your 
  failed attack on the Castle of the Keys.” He felt certain this 
  would antagonize her enough to drop her placid facade. 
  She ignored the bait and said, “This task is not one I set 
  in motion, but I bring my allies to it willingly. I hope to 
  persuade you to do the same. The animosity and strife that 
  has long festered between us has begun to hinder the Circle 
  Orboros, and I am sorry for my part in it. Let me be the first 
  to admit I have acted rashly and in doing so exacerbated a 
  feud that served as a dangerous distraction to us both. I ask 
  you to set aside old grudges in the interest of the stability 
  and survival of our order.” At this end of this speech she 
  bowed her head to look down humbly.
  Krueger felt a burst of fresh anger and the skies darkened 
  above him as thick clouds began to gather. “Was your mind 
  on unity and burying old grudges when you sought my 
  execution at a trial before the Grand Convocation?” He 
  sneered. “You are a fraud.”
  She looked up again, her eyes piercing but her expression 
  sincere. She held her head high and said, “I was wrong. 
  That trial was a mistake. I was motivated by loyalty to the 
  omnipotents and a desire to do right by our fellowship.”
  “And which of the omnipotents do you curry favor with 
  now? Dahlekov? I suppose after his failed assassination he 
  has decided to pursue other options.”
  “I do not serve the omnipotents in this, but the Circle itself. 
  There are larger matters at stake than our personal agendas. 
  I was reminded of this by Baldur. It is his course I follow.”
  He had intended to provoke her into anger but found 
  his own temper rising instead. “You would use Baldur’s 
  memory for your own manipulations? That is devious even 
  for you, Dawnshadow.” 
  More than anything he 
  wondered what had  
  proMpted Morvahna to seek 
  hiM out in the first plaCe .
  
  15
  “But of course you couldn’t know!” she said with feigned 
  surprise. He knew instantly he had fallen into a trap. 
  “Baldur is returned to us, having been granted visions from 
  Orboros while his spirit was separated from his body.” This 
  statement provoked gasps from the other druids gathered 
  nearby. Krueger could not keep his disbelief from his 
  face. Before he had absorbed this, Morvahna turned to the 
  Farstrider and encouraged him to step forward.
  Grayle seemed uncomfortable under Krueger’s withering 
  stare but inclined his head respectfully to him and to Wolf 
  Lord Morraig, who watched him closely. Krueger knew 
  their respective positions had changed considerably after 
  Grayle’s wilding; once the wolf lord would have been 
  Grayle’s superior. As a druid, Grayle was beyond their 
  hierarchy, but respect to Morraig remained. His voice was 
  calm and self-assured when he spoke. “I can confirm Baldur 
  has arisen again. I was present for his awakening.”
  The impact of this statement rippled through the gathered 
  druids, and Krueger regretted his decision to meet 
  Morvahna so openly. Unlike most, Baldur was well beloved 
  among all the Circle’s cabals.
  Krueger greatly disliked being caught by surprise. It was 
  particularly galling that such a momentous event had 
  transpired without his awareness. This was the cost of being 
  estranged from the omnipotents and cut off from the rest 
  of the Circle. He had his own network of informants, of 
  course, but it only reached so far. He considered Morvahna’s 
  cunning: he might have taken her words as a lie, but there 
  was no reason Grayle would deceive him. 
  Morvahna broke the shocked silence. “Baldur returned 
  with knowledge of a grave threat in the north, one he felt 
  compelled to thwart. That task is unfinished. Cryxian forces 
  have recovered an athanc from Khador’s northern mountains 
  and seek to bring it to their master. The Legion of Everblight 
  moves swiftly to intercept. Baldur and I completed a ritual 
  to drive the Cryxians out of their caves to give us a chance 
  to intercept, but to do so we must move now.” Her tone 
  gradually became more strident, less persuasive and more 
  commanding, and Krueger’s scowl deepened.
  “I am pleased Baldur is among the living,” he said. While 
  he felt obliged to say this given the atmosphere among his 
  subordinates, he realized he meant the words. They had not 
  always seen eye to eye, but Baldur had been a worthy peer, 
  and a reliable ally on those occasions their purposes had 
  aligned. “But if the urgency is so great, why are you not 
  already at battle?”
  Morvahna smiled. “We have need of your army, Stormlord. 
  We endured a difficult fight at Hawksmire River to complete 
  the ritual. There were many casualties. The next phase 
  requires the forces you have gathered.”
  Krueger stared at her, silent, for several seconds. He wanted 
  to refuse on general principle. The last thing he wished to 
  do was expend the lives of his army on some battlefield not 
  of his own choosing. Yet he could not seem petty before 
  his subordinates. If Morvahna had been speaking for the 
  omnipotents, that would be one thing—Krueger had 
  already turned his people against them—but Baldur was 
  another matter. 
  Clearly she hoped to manipulate him into a position of 
  subservience. “So I am to hand you my army, because you 
  ask politely? No. If you wish my aid, you will kneel before 
  me and accept my leadership in the confrontation ahead.” 
  He smiled cruelly, knowing she would never consent to this 
  condition, thus revealing her own pride.
  “Agreed,” she said. To his astonishment, Morvahna bowed 
  her head. “This is your army, Stormlord, and I would not 
  presume to command it. I surrender my interests and agree 
  to obey you for this battle. I will direct my forces in support 
  of your strategy.”
  He thought he saw an eager gleam in her eyes as they locked 
  with his. Krueger shook his head. She had maneuvered him 
  expertly. At the same time, he could not deny the potential 
  for a tremendous political coup. Should they be victorious, 
  word would spread that it was he who had stepped forward 
  when the Circle had need. He could not imagine how this 
  plan could profit her own schemes—except, of course, 
  that should he fail, the shame of defeat would be his. He 
  made his decision. There was nothing to do now but move 
  forward, and ensure success.
  “Very well.” His voice crackled like thunder as he ordered, 
  “Prepare to march. Battle awaits.”
  
  16
  gargantuans
  The groups waging war on the periphery of the Iron 
  Kingdoms have at last brought forth the gargantuans to 
  join their battles. These tremendous beasts of war tower 
  over the battlefield, dwarfing men and ordinary warbeasts 
  alike, each embodying the fighting spirit of its faction. 
  Gargantuans possess the unmatched strength and size to 
  employ terrible and formidable weapons at the behest of 
  their controlling warlocks, who must bring all their will to 
  bear in order to focus the great beasts’ irrepressible rage 
  against their enemies. With such destructive potential, 
  these beasts are the most powerful weapons in a warlock’s 
  battlegroup.
  A gargantuan is a huge-based (120 mm) warbeast.
  huge base
  A huge-based model occupies the space from the bottom of 
  its base to a height of 5˝.
  faCing and line of sight
  A gargantuan’s front arc is marked on its base. Its front arc 
  is further divided into two 90° fields of fire. These fields of 
  fire determine which models a gargantuan can target with 
  its weapons depending on their location. Weapons located 
  on a gargantuan’s left side (L) can target only models in its 
  left field of fire. Weapons located on a gargantuan’s right 
  side (R) can target only models in the gargantuan’s right 
  field of fire. Weapons with locations “H” or “—” can target 
  models in either field of fire. If any part of a model’s base 
  is on the line separating the left and right fields of fire it is 
  considered to be in both fields of fire.
  gargantuan rules
  This Mountain King can target the Argus with the weapons 
  in its left field of fire, the Wolves of Orboros (D) with the 
  weapons in its right field of fire, and the Warpwolf with the 
  weapons in either or both fields of fire.
  Warpwolf
  Argus
  Wolves of  
  Orboros
  Mountain King
  A
  B
  C
  D
  E
  field of fire
  
  17
  TargeTing a garganTuan
  A gargantuan never gains a DEF bonus from concealment, 
  cover, or elevation.
  Cloud effeCTs  
  and foresT Terrain
  Cloud effects and forest terrain do not block line of sight to 
  a gargantuan.
  TargeTing a garganTuan in Melee
  A model targeting a gargantuan with a ranged or magic 
  attack does not suffer the target in melee attack roll penalty. 
  If a ranged or magic attack misses a gargantuan in melee, 
  that miss is not rerolled against another model. It misses 
  completely.
  A gargantuan can be targeted by combined ranged attacks 
  while it is in melee.
  PredePloyMenT
  Gargantuans must be placed before normal deployment. 
  If both players have models to predeploy, they predeploy 
  their models in standard deployment order.
  Massive
  A gargantuan cannot be pushed, knocked down, or made 
  stationary. A gargantuan cannot be moved by a slam or throw.
  garganTuan MoveMenT
  A gargantuan can only advance during its normal movement 
  and cannot be placed.
  PaThfinder 
  Although the icon does not appear on their stat lines, all 
  gargantuans have the Pathfinder advantage.
  ConTrolling a 
  garganTuan
  Gargantuans must be assigned to a battlegroup, and your 
  opponent can never take control of your gargantuan by 
  any means.
  greaT BeasT
  A gargantuan can never gain Advance Deployment, 
  Incorporeal, or Stealth.
  
  gargantuan rules
  gargantuan CoMbat 
  rules
  ranged attaCks while in Melee
  A gargantuan can make ranged attacks while in melee. A 
  gargantuan never suffers the firing in melee penalty when 
  targeting a model it is in melee with.
  A gargantuan cannot gain the aiming bonus when engaged.
  gargantuan Melee range
  Gargantuan melee weapons and gargantuan melee attacks 
  have a 2˝ melee range unless otherwise noted. This includes 
  all power attacks made by a gargantuan.
  gargantuan power attaCks
  A gargantuan can make all the power attacks available to a 
  warbeast along with two additional power attacks available 
  only to gargantuans: power strike and sweep.
  power strike
  A gargantuan making a power strike power attack 
  uses the force of its tremendous melee power to send a 
  smaller-based model flying. A gargantuan must have at 
  least one Open Fist to make a power strike power attack. 
  Its target must be in the Open Fist’s field of fire and have 
  a smaller base than the gargantuan.
  The gargantuan makes a melee attack against the target. If 
  the attack hits, the target is slammed d6+2˝ directly away 
  from the gargantuan. The POW of the slam damage roll and 
  the POW of collateral damage rolls resulting from the slam 
  are equal to the STR of the gargantuan.
  sweep
  A gargantuan can use its arms to scythe through models 
  within its reach. A gargantuan must have at least one melee 
  weapon in its left or right field of fire to make a sweep 
  power attack. This model makes one melee attack with the 
  weapon against each model in the weapon’s field of fire and 
  within its 2˝ melee range. Models hit suffer a damage roll 
  with a POW equal to the gargantuan’s STR.
  Smaller-based models hit by a slam power attack made by a 
  gargantuan are moved an additional 2˝.
  slaM power attaCk revisited
  18
  
  warloCk units
  HORDES: Gargantuans introduces warlock units. In a 
  warlock unit, the model with the Officer 
   advantage 
  is the warlock and is the only model in the unit that has 
  the special rules of a warlock. The warlock controls a 
  battlegroup, has a feat, can spend fury, etc. If the warlock 
  is destroyed, his upkeep spells expire and his warbeasts 
  become wild as normal. 
  A warlock unit is always a character unit because the 
  warlock is a character. Unlike other warlocks, however, 
  a warlock in a unit is not an independent model. He is 
  the unit commander, and as such, he activates as part of 
  the unit.
  granted: fearless
  A warlock that is part of a warlock unit always has the 
  Granted: Fearless ability. While the warlock is in play, the 
  models in its unit gain Fearless 
  .
  battlegroup
  The other models in a warlock’s unit are part of its 
  battlegroup.
  attaChMents
  Warlock units cannot have unit and weapon attachments 
  like other units, but they can have warlock attachments 
  like standard warlocks. If a warlock unit has a warlock 
  attachment, the attachment remains a solo and does not 
  become part of the warlock unit.
  warloCk unit rules
  19
  
  large-sCale battles in the iron kingdoMs
  It took months of preparation and planning to get everyone here. Throngs of war-scarred warriors stand behind you 
  preparing for the gory task ahead. As you look across the field that will soon be stained with blood and littered with the 
  detritus of battle, snarling growls rumble from the beasts you have gathered. They are hungry, and you aim to feed them. 
  Never before have you commanded such a massive gathering of warriors, weapons, and warbeasts, and a trepidatious 
  excitement begins to rise among your army. You are keenly aware of your counterpart across the field, who has amassed 
  an equally terrifying force, but you can already taste victory. The days is yours to win. Your name will be immortalized 
  in the songs of the youths and the teachings of the elders. You need only give your commanders the order: Attack! 
  This is the cauldron from which legends arise. This is HORDES Unbound. 
  20
  unbound rules
  
  21
  
  72˝
  48˝
  10˝
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  18˝
  24˝
  overview
  The following rules are an optional system for playing large-
  scale WARMACHINE and HORDES games. These rules feature 
  a new alternating sequence of play that keeps both players 
  involved constantly throughout the game. Though the standard 
  rules can accommodate large-scale play, these rules present a 
  new way to play WARMACHINE and HORDES that keeps 
  the action fast and furious by removing downtime between 
  players’ turns. Instead of each player taking a turn and moving 
  all his models each round and then waiting while his opponent 
  takes a turn and moves all his models, Unbound rounds are 
  divided into several turns in which players alternate activating 
  portions of their armies. In this way, Unbound simulates the ebb 
  and flow of actual battle, giving players ample opportunity to 
  act and react to the fortunes of war.
  Instead of completely replacing the rules of WARMACHINE 
  and HORDES, these rules modify only the structure of play 
  while leaving the core mechanics untouched. 
  As a result of this alternating sequence of play, some model 
  rules have been modified to integrate better into Unbound 
  games. A list of these changes can be found in the Unbound 
  Rules Appendix, pp. 156-159.
  Unbound has been designed with multiplayer and team 
  play in mind in addition to two-player games. These rules 
  are covered below.
  unbound arMy  
  ConstruCtion
  In Unbound games, each player fields 150-point or larger 
  armies with three or more warcasters or warlocks on each side. 
  An additional warcaster or warlock is added to each army for 
  every additional 50 points of models fielded by each player.
  Players can also benefit from Formations when building 
  their armies. Formations are bonuses based on different 
  combinations of models in the army. For a list of Unbound 
  Formations, see pp. 30-35.
  table size
  Due to the scope of Unbound games, it is recommend that 
  players use a 4´ × 6´ table instead of the standard 4´ × 4´ 
  table. Truly massive games may require even larger tables 
  to accommodate play.
  deployMent zones
  Unless otherwise noted, players deploy their armies into 
  standard 10˝ deployment zones, giving each player a 10˝ × 
  72˝ deployment area.
  seizing the initiative
  Unless the scenario dictates otherwise, at the start of the 
  game each player makes a starting roll to determine which 
  player will be the first player. The first player sets up first 
  and takes the first turn as in a normal WARMACHINE or 
  HORDES game.
  When playing Unbound, the order of play is not static. 
  Instead, beginning with the second round, at the start of 
  each round players roll to determine which player takes the 
  first turn that round. Each player rolls a d6, just as for the 
  starting roll. The player with the higher roll (or the highest 
  roll, in a multiplayer game) has seized the initiative and 
  takes the first turn that round.
  Note that any modifiers to the starting roll, such as those 
  from the Intelligence ability, do not affect the roll to seize 
  the initiative.
  doMination bonus
  The more ground a player controls, the greater his chances 
  of seizing the initiative. When playing Unbound, the table 
  is divided into eight 24˝ × 18˝ territories. Starting with the 
  beginning of the second round, a player gains +1 on his roll 
  to seize the initiative for each territory he controls at that 
  time. A player controls a territory if he has one or more 
  models completely within it and his opponent does not. 
  unbound rules
  22
  
  The round structure of Unbound games substantially 
  changes the familiar timing of the game and forces players 
  to approach their model and unit activations carefully. 
  Notably, many spells and feats that can be stacked in 
  normal WARMACHINE and HORDES games are limited to 
  affecting only the models activating in the current turn. 
  play aCCordingly
  alternating play
  Unbound rounds are divided into a variable number of 
  turns based on the number of warcasters and/or warlocks 
  each player has at the start of the game. 
  The number of turns each player takes during a round is 
  equal to the number of warcasters and/or warlocks each 
  player has at the start of the game +1. Once the number of 
  turns a player takes during each round has been determined, 
  it does not change as play progresses and warcasters and 
  warlocks are destroyed or removed from play. 
  During each round, players alternate taking turns, starting 
  with the player who has the initiative. Once both players 
  have completed all their turns, the round ends. A new round 
  then begins starting with a new roll to seize the initiative. 
  For game effects, a round is measured from the current turn 
  to the end of the last turn of the round. A game effect with a 
  duration of one round expires at the end of the current round.  
  the anatoMy of a round
  Each round has three phases: Maintenance, Control, and 
  Activation.
  MaintenanCe phase
  During the Maintenance Phase players take turns 
  performing the following steps, beginning with the player 
  who has the initiative that round. Once the player with 
  the initiative completes all these steps, the next player will 
  resolve them.
  1. 
  Remove all focus points from your models. For each 
  of your models with the Fury Manipulation ability, 
  remove all fury points in excess of its FURY stat. Leave 
  fury points on warbeasts at this time.
  2. 
  Check for expiration of continuous effects on any 
  models you control. After removing all expired 
  continuous effects, resolve the effects of those that 
  remain in play. All damage dealt by continuous effects 
  is resolved simultaneously.
  3. 
  Resolve all other effects that occur during the 
  Maintenance Phase.
  As in a standard WARMACHINE and HORDES game, a 
  player must activate each model/unit in his army once each 
  round. Contrary to standard games, however, only a subset 
  of models will activate in a given turn. During each of his 
  turns each round, a player can activate one battlegroup and 
  an assortment of other models and units.
  23
  
  Control phase
  During the Control Phase, players take turns performing the 
  following steps beginning with the player who has the initiative 
  that round. Once the player with the initiative completes all of 
  these steps, the next player will then resolve them.
  1. 
  Each of your models with the Focus Manipulation ability, 
  like warcasters, replenishes its focus and receives a 
  number of focus points equal to its current FOCUS. Each 
  of your models with the Fury Manipulation ability can 
  leach any number of fury points up to its current FURY 
  from warbeasts in its battlegroup in its control area.
  2. 
  Each model with the Focus Manipulation or Fury 
  Manipulation abilities can spend focus or fury points to 
  maintain its upkeep spells in play. If a model does not 
  spend focus or fury points to maintain a spell requiring 
  upkeep, the spell expires and its effects end immediately.
  3. 
  Make a threshold check for each of your warbeasts with 
  1 or more fury points left on it. Any warbeasts that fail 
  the check immediately frenzy.
  4. 
  Resolve all other effects that occur during the 
  Control Phase.
  Note that shaking knockdown and stationary effects in 
  an Unbound game occurs at the start of a turn in which a 
  model activates.
  Focus is allocated at the start of each turn, rather than at the 
  start of the round. 
  unbound rules
  We strongly recommend marking your models and 
  units as you activate them. This can be accomplished 
  by placing a token next to each model and unit as it 
  activates. Remove those tokens at the end of the round.
  During your final turn of each round, it may be helpful 
  to mark activating units with tokens of a different color 
  to denote they activated during your last turn of the 
  round. Leave these off-color tokens in place when the 
  other activation tokens are removed at the end of the 
  round so players will remember which models/unit 
  cannot activate during the first turn of the next round. 
  After that turn ends, remove the off-color tokens since 
  these models are now eligible to activate this round.
  Marking aCtivated units
  aCtivation phase
  During the Activation Phase, players take turns activating 
  their models as defined in the Taking Turns section below. 
  All models you control must be activated once per round. 
  24
  
  taking turns
  Except for his last turn each round, a player must declare his 
  intention to activate one warcaster- or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroup at the start of each of his turns. Though the models 
  in the battlegroup are still activated separately, all models in 
  the declared battlegroup must be activated that turn.
  During a turn in which a player activates a battlegroup, he 
  can also activate any combination of the following:
  • 
  Up to 4 units
  • 
  Up to 4 solos
  • 
  Up to 2 independent warjacks
  • 
  Up to 2 battle engines
  A player can exercise any of these options or none, as he 
  chooses. 
  Models and units can be activated in any order during 
  a turn. The models in a battlegroup do not have to be 
  activated before other models and units a player is 
  activating that turn.
  All of a player’s warcaster- or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroups will have activated before his last turn each 
  round. During his last turn each round a player activates 
  his remaining models and units. If a player has already 
  activated all of his models and units before this turn, he 
  will not be able to activate any models or units during 
  his last turn of the round. Models and units activated 
  during a player’s last turn of the previous round cannot 
  be activated during his first turn of a given round. This 
  means that a model can never activate two turns in a 
  row. Note that this rule only applies to models that were 
  activated during each player’s last turn of the round (the 
  turn after all warcaster or warlock battlegroups have 
  already been activated).
  When a model or unit activates, any warjacks or warbeasts 
  the model or unit controls must also activate that turn. 
  This includes warjacks and warbeasts controlled by ‘jack 
  marshals and lesser warlocks.
  ExamplE: Brent and Jack are playing a 150-point Unbound 
  game and each player is fielding 3 warlocks. Because the 
  players are fielding 3 warlocks each, each will take 4 turns 
  each round. During each player’s first 3 turns each round 
  he must activate one battlegroup. In addition to activating 
  the models in the battlegroup, each player can also activate 
  any combination of the following: up to 4 units, 4 solos, and 
  2 battle engines. During each player’s fourth turn of the 
  round he must activate any model or units that he has not 
  yet activated that round. Any models/units activated during 
  that fourth turn cannot be activated during the first turn of 
  the upcoming round.
  25
  
  Remember that warcasters that have not yet activated will 
  still have their full focus allotment and therefore will be 
  exceptionally difficult to damage. Players should consider 
  that when determining their order of activation.
  hard targets
  unbound rules
  lost warCasters and warloCks
  If one or more of a player’s warcasters or warlocks have 
  been destroyed or removed from play, that player is not 
  required to activate a warcaster- or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroup during each of his turns and can choose which 
  turns to activate his remaining warcaster or warlock-
  controlled battlegroups. However, he must still activate all 
  of his remaining battlegroups each round, can only activate 
  one warcaster- or warlock-controlled battlegroup each 
  turn, and cannot activate a warcaster or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroup during his last turn each round. 
  ExamplE: Jason and DC are playing a 150-point game with 
  each player taking 4 turns each round. Ordinarily, each 
  player must activate a battlegroup during his first 3 turns 
  each round. However, if one of Jason’s warcasters is destroyed, 
  he can activate his remaining two battlegroups on the first, 
  second, or third turns and must activate both by his third turn 
  each round. If Jason loses another warcaster, he can choose to 
  activate his remaining battlegroup during the first, second, or 
  third turns but cannot activate it on his fourth.
  foCus alloCation
  At the start of each of a player’s turns, each model with the 
  Focus Manipulation ability activating that turn can allocate 
  focus points to warjacks in its battlegroup that are in its 
  control area. 
  In order to allocate focus, a player must declare at the 
  start of the turn that the models allocating focus will be 
  activating that turn. This includes non-warcaster models 
  with the Focus Manipulation ability he wants to allocate 
  focus that turn.
  shake effeCts
  Instead of spending focus to shake effects during the 
  Control Phase, a model that can spend focus to shake 
  knock down or stationary does so at the start of its 
  activation.
  Instead of being forced to shake effects during the Control 
  Phase, a model that can be forced to shake knock down or 
  stationary does so at the start of its activation.
  26
  
  27
  
  10˝
  10˝
  34˝
  34˝
  10˝
  34˝
  72˝
  48˝
  Multiplayer  
  gaMes
  free-for-all gaMes
  Unbound can accommodate three or four players in free-for-
  all games. At the start of the game, all players roll as normal 
  to determine the order of play. At the start of subsequent 
  rounds, players roll to seize the initiative. Reroll ties, with 
  the highest reroll winning the roll, followed by the next 
  highest, and so on.
  In a three-player game, each player deploys his models 
  into a 10˝ × 34˝ deployment zone. One player deploys in 
  the middle of the west table edge, the next player in the 
  northeast corner of the table, and the third player in the 
  southeast corner of the table.
  For a four-player game, increase the table 
  size to 4´ × 8´. Each player deploys his models 
  into a 14˝ × 38˝ deployment zone, each in a 
  different corner of the table.
  teaM gaMes
  Team games are played with two or more 
  players on each team, with each player 
  controlling one or more battlegroups. Each 
  team plays a single faction, but its army can 
  include non-faction models that will work 
  for that team faction. Players should decide 
  which battlegroups each player will control 
  before the start of the game. Generally, fielded 
  models that are not part of a battlegroup 
  are not assigned to a specific team member. 
  Instead, players on the team take turns controlling the models 
  that are not part of one of their battlegroups. Remember that 
  each team army can include only one of any character model.
  At the start of the game, the teams roll to determine which 
  will set up first and take the first turn. Starting on the 
  second turn, teams will roll to seize the initiative. When 
  calculating a team’s domination bonus, count all models 
  on the team.
  Throughout each round, teams alternate taking turns. 
  Except for their last turn each round, the players on a team 
  must declare their intention to activate one warcaster- 
  or warlock-controlled battlegroup at the start of each 
  of their turns. The player in control of that battlegroup 
  will then activate all the models in the battlegroup that 
  turn. Additionally, other team members can activate and 
  move additional team models and units that are not part 
  of a battlegroup. On a turn he activates his battlegroup, a 
  player cannot also activate other team models and units. 
  Those are left to his teammates to activate.
  During a turn in which a player activates a battlegroup, the 
  other members of the team can activate any combination of 
  the following:
  • 
  Up to 4 units
  • 
  Up to 4 solos
  • 
  Up to 2 independent warjacks
  • 
  Up to 2 battle engines
  ExamplE: Ed and Chris are playing a 150-point game against 
  Bryan and Will. Ed controls two warcasters and Chris 
  controls one. During their first turn of the game, they decide 
  that Ed will activate one of his battlegroups. In addition to Ed 
  activating the models in his battlegroup, Chris can activate 
  up to four units, up to four solos, up to two independent 
  warjacks, and up to two battle engines.
  three-player gaMe
  38
  38
  38˝
  38˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  96˝
  48˝
  four-player gaMe
  unbound rules
  28
  
  29
  
  unbound rules
  forMations
  Formations are benefits available to players in Unbound 
  games based on the composition of their armies. There is no 
  maximum number of Formation benefits a player can gain 
  for his army. Although the descriptions of Formations are 
  organized by faction, the benefits are granted based on the 
  models in the army, not its primary faction.
  ExamplE: If Rask controls three Blackhide Wrastlers while 
  part of a Circle army, the Wrastlers in the army still benefit 
  from the Still Waters Formation. 
  Note that some Formations require a grouping of three 
  or more warjacks or warbeasts in a battlegroup. These 
  requirements must be met at the start of the game, and 
  the Formation benefits are not contingent on the models 
  remaining in play.
  30
  
  trollblood
  troll axer warbeasts – 
  deMolition teaM
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Troll Axer warbeasts.
  Benefit: Troll Axer warbeasts in a battlegroup with three 
  or more Troll Axers gain Tag Team. (When making a melee 
  attack targeting an enemy model in melee range of another 
  friendly model with Tag Team, a model with Tag Team gains 
  +2 to melee attack and melee damage rolls.)
  dire troll boMber warbeasts – 
  boMbs away
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Dire Troll 
  Bomber warbeasts.
  Benefit: Dire Troll Bomber warbeasts gain Assault. (As 
  part of a charge, after moving but before making its charge 
  attack, a model with Assault can make one ranged attack 
  targeting the model charged unless they were in melee 
  with each other at the start of this model’s activation. When 
  resolving an Assault ranged attack, the attacking model 
  does not suffer the target in melee penalty. If the target is 
  not in melee range after moving, this model can make the 
  Assault ranged attack before its activation ends.)
  dire troll Mauler warbeasts – 
  buCking bronCos
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Dire Troll 
  Mauler warbeasts.
  Benefit: Dire Troll Mauler warbeasts gain Counter Charge. 
  (When an enemy model advances and ends its movement 
  within 6˝ of a model with Counter Charge and in its LOS, 
  the model with Counter Charge can immediately charge it. 
  If it does, it cannot make another counter charge until after 
  your next turn. A model with Counter Charge cannot make 
  a counter charge while engaged.)
  Mountain king gargantuans – 
  gruMpy old Men
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Mountain 
  King gargantuans.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Mountain King gargantuans 
  by 1. Additionally, Mountain King gargantuans gain 
  Deathdealer. (Models with Deathdealer gain +2 on melee 
  attack rolls against trooper models.)
  trollkin ChaMpion units –  
  baCk to baCk
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Trollkin 
  Champion units.
  Benefit: Trollkin Champion units gain Stalwart. (While 
  B2B with another model in its unit, a model with Stalwart 
  cannot be knocked down.)
  trollkin fennblades units – 
  headsMen
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Trollkin 
  Fennblade units.
  Benefit: Trollkin Fennblade units gain Unyielding. (While 
  engaging an enemy model, a model with Unyielding gains 
  +2 ARM.)
  trollkin war wagon battle 
  engines – defensive driving
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Trollkin War 
  Wagon battle engines.
  Benefit: Trollkin War Wagon battle engines gain +2 DEF.
  31
  
  unbound rules
  CirCle orboros 
  sCarsfell griffon warbeasts – 
  aCes high
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Scarsfell 
  Griffon warbeasts.
  Benefit: 
  Scarsfell 
  Griffon 
  warbeasts 
  gain 
  Advance 
  Deployment 
   .
  feral warpwolf warbeasts – 
  foragers
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Feral 
  Warpwolf warbeasts.
  Benefit: Feral Warpwolf warbeasts gain Snacking. (When 
  a model with Snacking boxes a living model with a melee 
  attack, the model with Snacking can heal d3 damage points. 
  If the model heals, the boxed model is removed from play.)
  wold guardian warbeasts – the 
  indoMitable
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Wold 
  Guardian warbeasts.
  Benefit: Wold Guardian warbeasts gain Bulldoze. (When 
  a model with Bulldoze advances into B2B contact with an 
  enemy model during its activation, it can push that model 
  up to 2˝ directly away from it. A model can be pushed by 
  Bulldoze only once per activation. Bulldoze has no effect 
  when this model makes a trample power attack.)
  woldwrath gargantuans – 
  natural wonders
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Woldwrath 
  gargantuans.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Woldwrath gargantuans by 1. 
  Additionally, Woldwrath gargantuans gain Regeneration. 
  (A model with Regeneration can be forced to heal d3 
  damage points once per activation. A model cannot use 
  Regeneration during an activation it runs.)
  reeve of orboros units and 
  war wolf solos – pet wolves
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Reeve of 
  Orboros units.
  Benefit: For each Reeve of Orboros unit in the army add 
  one War Wolf solo free of cost. These solos ignore normal 
  FA restrictions.
  tharn ravager units – harvest 
  season
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Tharn 
  Ravager units.
  Benefit: Tharn Ravager models each begin the game with 
  one corpse token.
  Celestial fulCruM battle 
  engines – lunar alignMent
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Celestial 
  Fulcrum battle engines.
  Benefit: Celestial Fulcrum battle engines each begin the 
  game with 3 fury points.
  32
  
  skorne
  CyClops savage warbeasts – 
  boon of destiny
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Cyclops Savage warbeasts.
  Benefit: A warlock that starts the game with three or more 
  Cyclops Savage warbeasts in its battlegroup gains Future 
  Sight.
  titan Cannoneer warbeasts – 
  fire brigade
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Titan 
  Cannoneer warbeasts.
  Benefit: Titan Cannoneer warbeasts’ Siege Guns become 
  AOE 5.
  titan gladiator and 
  bronzebaCk titan warbeasts – 
  shoCk assault
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Titan 
  Gladiator warbeasts and one or more Bronzeback Titan 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Bronzeback Titan warbeasts gain Advance Move. 
  For every Bronzeback Titan warbeast in the army, up to two 
  Titan Gladiator warbeasts also gain Advance Move. (Before 
  the start of the game but after both players have deployed, a 
  model with Advance Move can make a full advance.)
  MaMMoth gargantuans –  
  target praCtiCe
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Mammoth 
  gargantuans.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Mammoth gargantuans by 
  1. Additionally, Mammoth gargantuans gain Corrective 
  Firing. (A model with Corrective Firing gains a cumulative 
  +1 on ranged attack rolls against a model it has targeted 
  with a ranged attack roll this turn for each time it has 
  previously targeted the model this turn.)
  CataphraCt units –  
  fortified line
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Cataphract 
  units of the same type.
  Benefit: Cataphract units gain Advance Move. (Before the 
  start of the game but after both players have deployed, a 
  model with Advance Move can make a full advance.)
  venator reiver units –  
  heavy weapons
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Venator 
  Reiver units.
  Benefit: Add a Venator Flayer Cannon Crew unit to the 
  army free of cost. For every additional Venator Reiver unit 
  in the army after the first two, add an additional Venator 
  Flayer Cannon Crew unit to the army free of cost. These 
  units ignore FA restrictions.
  siege aniMantarax battle engines – 
  rapid doMinanCe
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Siege 
  Animantarax battle engines.
  Benefit: Siege Animantarax battle engines each begin with 
  three rage tokens.
  33
  
  unbound rules
  legion of everblight
  nephiliM soldier warbeasts – 
  death froM above
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Nephilim 
  Soldier warbeasts.
  Benefit: Nephilim Soldier warbeasts gain Sprint. (At the 
  end of its activation, if a model with Sprint destroyed one 
  or more enemy models with melee attacks this activation it 
  can make a full advance.)
  raek warbeasts – hunting paCk
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Raek warbeasts.
  Benefit: Raek warbeasts in a battlegroup with three or 
  more Raeks gain Advance Deployment 
   and Long Leash. 
  (When checking to see if a model with Long Leash is in its 
  controller’s control area, double the area.)
  Carnivean warbeasts – hunger 
  Motivation
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Carnivean 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Carnivean warbeasts gain Aggressive. (A model 
  with Aggressive can run or charge without spending focus 
  or being forced.)
  arChangel gargantuans – fire 
  froM the heavens
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Archangel 
  gargantuans.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Archangel gargantuans by 1. 
  Additionally, Archangel gargantuans gain Point Blank. 
  (During its activation, a model with Point Blank can make 
  melee attacks with its ranged weapon, with a 0.5˝ melee 
  range. Do not add the model’s STR to damage rolls made 
  with ranged weapons. Charge attacks made with ranged 
  weapons are not boosted.)
  blighted nyss swordsMan units –  
  seek & destroy
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Blighted 
  Nyss Swordsman units.
  Benefit: Blighted Nyss Swordsman units gain Hunter 
  and Pathfinder 
  . (A model with Hunter ignores forests, 
  concealment, and cover when determining LOS or making 
  a ranged attack.)
  blighted ogrun warspear units –  
  bloody Murder
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Blighted 
  Ogrun Warspear units.
  Benefit: Blighted Ogrun Warspear units gain Quick Work. 
  (When a model with Quick Work destroys one or more 
  enemy models with a melee attack during its combat action, 
  immediately after the attack is resolved it can make one 
  normal ranged attack. Attacks gained from Quick Work do 
  not count against a weapon’s ROF.)
  throne of everblight battle 
  engines – rooks
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Throne of 
  Everblight battle engines.
  Benefit: Throne of Everblight battle engines each begin the 
  game with three corpse tokens.
  34
  
  Minions
  boneswarM warbeasts –  
  death reavers
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Boneswarm warbeasts.
  Benefit: Boneswarm warbeasts in a battlegroup with 
  three or more Boneswarm warbeasts each begin with one 
  corpse token.
  blaCkhide wrastler warbeasts – 
  still waters
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Blackhide 
  Wrastler warbeasts.
  Benefit: Blackhide Wrastler warbeasts gain Feign Death.  
  (A model with Feign Death cannot be targeted by ranged or 
  magic attacks while knocked down.)
  swaMp horror warbeasts – 
  helping hands
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Swamp 
  Horror warbeasts.
  Benefit: Swamp Horror warbeasts gain Lash. (A model with 
  Lash and friendly warrior models B2B with it cannot be 
  knocked down.)
  bog trog aMbusher units – 
  speCial forCes
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Bog Trog 
  Ambusher units.
  Benefit: Bog Trog Ambusher units gain Stealth 
  .
  gun boar warbeasts –  
  supply raid
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Gun Boar 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Gun Boar warbeasts’ Big Guns become ROF 2.
  road hog warbeasts –  
  bloCkade runners
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Road Hog 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Road Hog warbeasts gain Bulldoze. (When a model 
  with Bulldoze advances into B2B contact with an enemy 
  model during its activation, it can push that model up to 2˝ 
  directly away from it. A model can be pushed by Bulldoze 
  only once per activation. Bulldoze has no effect when this 
  model makes a trample power attack.)
  farrow brigand units –  
  heavy raid
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Farrow 
  Brigand units.
  Benefit: Add a Farrow Razorback Crew unit to the army 
  free of cost. For every additional Farrow Brigand unit 
  in the army after the first two, add an additional Farrow 
  Razorback Crew unit to the army free of cost. These units 
  ignore FA restrictions.
  farrow slaughterhouser units – 
  gluttons for punishMent
  Requirement: 
  The 
  army 
  includes 
  three 
  or 
  more 
  Slaughterhouser units.
  Benefit: Slaughterhouser models gain Relentless Charge. 
  (Models with Relentless Charge gain Pathfinder 
   during 
  activations they charge.)
  35
  
  unbound rules
  unbound sCenarios
  The following scenarios have been designed for Unbound 
  games. They reflect titanic clashes between armies in the 
  midst of war and cover a broad selection of missions and 
  battlefield conditions. Unbound scenarios are narrative and 
  mission-oriented and are not purely competitive. These 
  scenarios do not simply create an alternate win condition 
  but instead frequently alter how the game itself is played.
  Unless otherwise noted, these scenarios are intended to be 
  played on a 4´ × 6´ table. 
  When selecting a scenario, players either agree on which 
  scenario to play or roll on the appropriate table below. It is 
  best for players to determine which scenario they will play 
  prior to building their armies since the scenario rules can 
  introduce significant twists, such as building destruction or 
  board-wide flooding.
  terrain plaCeMent
  Before choosing their deployment zones, players take turns 
  placing terrain features. Players alternate placing terrain 
  features until one player wishes to stop. The other player 
  is then allowed to place one additional terrain feature. 
  Each player must place a minimum of three terrain features 
  unless otherwise dictated by a scenario’s special rules.
   
  roll 
  result
   
  2 
  Basic Battle
   
  3 
  Treasure Hunt 
   
  4 
  Battle in the Wilderness
   
  5 
  Occupation
   
  6 
  The Great Divide
   
  7 
  No Man’s Land 
   
  8 
  Barnstormers
   
  9 
  Last Stand
   
  10 
  King of the Hill 
   
  11 
  Scorched Earth
   
  12 
  Floodland
   
  roll 
  result
   
  1 
  Barnstormers
   
  2 
  Battle in the Wilderness
   
  3 
  Floodland
   
  4 
  King of the Hill 
   
  5 
  Occupation
   
  6 
  Treasure Hunt 
  Terrain features should be moderately sized, no more 
  than 12˝ across. A terrain feature cannot be placed within 
  3˝ of another terrain feature. The exceptions to this are 
  that terrain features can be placed on hills and that trench 
  terrain features can be placed where they touch other 
  trench terrain features.
  Multiplayer play
  Many of the following scenarios are suitable for play with 
  three or four players. Additional rules for each of those 
  scenarios are described in its Multiplayer Game section.
  randoM sCenario 
  deterMination
  If both players agree, instead of choosing a scenario for the 
  battle, you can roll 2d6 and consult this table to determine 
  the scenario you will play. 
  For multiplayer battles, you can roll a d6 and consult this 
  table to determine the scenario you will play.
  36
  
  10˝
  10˝
  10˝
  6˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  desCription
  The loss of the army’s commanders will deal a crippling 
  blow to any force and may shatter the morale of an entire 
  army. In this battle, two armies clash with the goal of 
  destroying the opposing commanders. 
  speCial rules
  There are no special rules for this scenario.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play. 
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is suitable for multiplayer play. 
  basiC battle
  Mortal man is never so close to the divine as 
  when he commands a great army in battle. 
  —Kommandant Gurvaldt Irusk
  barn storMers
  That fortification not only offers sanctuary but 
  is the key to this battle. 
  —Grissel Bloodsong
  desCription
  The significance of any refuge from the guns of the 
  enemy cannot be overstated. In the maelstrom of war, any 
  townhouse, ruin, or standing structure can become a de 
  facto fortress.
  speCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, place a 6˝ × 
  10˝ structure in the center of the table, as shown on the 
  diagram below. That structure is an obstruction that cannot 
  be damaged. It should have entryways large enough to 
  accommodate large-based models on two opposite sides.
  Throughout the scenario, players will attempt to hold the 
  structure. At the end of each round, a player holds the 
  structure and scores 1 victory point if he has one or more 
  models completely in the structure and his opponent has 
  none. Ignore models that are fleeing or out of formation, 
  inert warjacks, and wild warbeasts when determining 
  whether a player holds the structure.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is suitable for multiplayer play.
  37
  
  unbound rules
  out of formation, inert warjacks, and wild warbeasts when 
  determining whether a player holds a forest.
  After the forests are placed, players takes turns placing up 
  to two additional terrain features each. Remember that a 
  terrain feature cannot be placed within 3˝ of another terrain 
  feature, including a forest.
  viCtory Conditions
  Starting at the end of the second round, a player wins the 
  game if at the end of the round he holds five or more of 
  the forests. A player also wins if he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  In a three-player game, do not place a forest in the center 
  of the table. Instead, players take turns each placing three 
  8˝-diameter forests anywhere within 18˝ of the center of the 
  table. These forests cannot be placed within 3˝ of each other.
  In a four-player game, place an 8˝-diameter forest in the 
  center of the table. Players then take turns each placing two 
  additional 8˝-diameter forests anywhere within 8˝ of the 
  center forest. These forests cannot be placed within 3˝ of 
  each other or the center forest.
  desCription
  Two vast armies fall upon each other in the midst of an 
  ancient forest. Only the more tenacious will be able to oust 
  the enemy and take the day.
  speCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, place an 
  8˝-diameter forest in the center of the table. Players then 
  take turns each placing four additional 8˝-diameter forests 
  anywhere within 8˝ of the center forest. These forests cannot 
  be placed within 3˝ of each other or the center forest.
  Throughout the scenario, players will attempt to hold these 
  sections of forest. A player holds a forest if he has one or 
  more models completely within the area of a forest and 
  his opponent has none. Ignore models that are fleeing or 
  battle in the 
  wilderness
  Vhat none remember is that the roots of these 
  great trees have long drunk of the blood of the 
  dead and dying.
  —The Old Witch of Khador
  38
  
  10˝
  10˝
  Deployment  
  Zone
  Deployment  
  Zone
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  Players score victory points by holding the 10˝-diameter 
  hills. A player holds a hill if he has one or more models on 
  it and his opponent has none. At the end of each round, a 
  player scores 1 victory point if he holds three or more of 
  the hills. Ignore models that are fleeing or out of formation, 
  inert warjacks, and wild warbeasts when determining 
  whether a player holds a hill.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is suitable for multiplayer play. A player wins 
  the game when he has 2 victory points or if he has the only 
  remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  desCription
  Endless rains are taking their toll, and it is only a matter 
  of time until the floodwaters rise. The army that succeeds 
  in holding the high ground will be the one to take the day. 
  speCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, place five 
  10˝-diameter hills on the table. The first hill is placed in the 
  center of the table. The next hill is centered on a point 14˝ 
  from the north table edge and 14˝ from the east table edge. 
  The third hill is centered at a point 14˝ from the north table 
  edge and 14˝ from the west table edge. The fourth hill is 
  centered at a point 14˝ from the south table edge and 14˝ from 
  the east table edge. The final hill is centered at a point 14˝ 
  from the south table edge and 14˝ from the west table edge.
  After placing the hills, players take turns placing terrain 
  normally. Remember, terrain features can be placed on the hills.
  At the start of every round beginning with the second, roll a 
  d6. On a 5 or 6, the floods come. During the round the floods 
  come, all non-elevated portions of the table are covered by 
  shallow water. After the end of that round, all non-elevated 
  portions of the table are considered to be rough terrain for 
  the rest of the game.
  floodland
  A great tide is coming that will wash our 
  enemies from these sacred lands.
  —Hierarch Severius
  39
  
  unbound rules
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  10˝
  the great divide
  Wheel your horses around the right flank 
  and I’ll strike their center. By Morrow, we 
  will meet in the middle and send them all 
  screaming to Urcaen. 
  —General Adept Nemo 
  king of the hill
  With the high ground we assure their death. 
  —Lylyth, Shadow of Everblight
  desCription
  Many battles are fought over strategic locations of uncertain 
  value, but all military strategists know the importance of 
  taking a significant hill before securing ancillary vantage 
  points. 
  speCial rules
  Before placing terrain features, place a hill at least 10˝ in 
  diameter in the center of the table. No other terrain features 
  can be placed on this hill. After the hill is placed, players 
  take turns placing terrain normally.
  At the end of each round, a player scores 1 victory point if he 
  has more models on the hill than his opponent does. Ignore 
  models that are fleeing or out of formation, inert warjacks, 
  and wild warbeasts when counting models on the hill.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  In a three-player game, center the hill at a point in the 
  middle of the table 28˝ from the west table edge. 
  In a four-player game, the hill remains centered in the 
  middle of the table.
  desCription
  The surest path to victory is to flank your opponent, to 
  divide his forces, and watch his army collapse under the 
  weight of your assault.
  speCial rules
  This scenario is played on a table turned lengthwise with 
  players deploying to the 4´ table edges.
  Models with Ambush cannot be placed within 30˝ of the 
  rear of your opponent’s deployment zone.
  A player scores 1 victory point at the end of his last turn 
  each round if he has one or more models in his opponent’s 
  deployment zone and his opponent has no models in his 
  deployment zone.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 2 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer play. 
  40
  
  10˝
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  36˝
  12˝
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  8˝
  5˝
  5˝
  8˝
  5˝
  5˝
  last stand
  Archdomina, their forces are surrounded. We 
  begin the final assault at your pleasure. 
  —Tyrant Xerxis
  no Man’s land
  Supreme Kommandant, the only thing standing 
  between us and victory is a maze of trenches, 
  death traps, and those pitiful ruins our enemies 
  call fortifications. It is going to be a glorious day!
  —Karchev the Terrible
  desCription
  The battlefield is a blasted wasteland divided by twisted 
  networks of winding trenches where death lurks behind 
  every corner. The only measure of victory is in territory 
  gained.
  speCial rules
  Each player begins with a 5˝ × 8˝ command trench in the 
  middle of his deployment zone, 5˝ from his rear table edge. 
  Players take turns each placing fifteen 3˝ × 5˝ trench terrain 
  features. Trench terrain features can be placed in contact 
  with other trench terrain features. After these trenches have 
  been placed, each player can place one additional terrain 
  feature no more than 10˝ in diameter on his side of the table 
  at least 10˝ from the nearest trench terrain feature.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game at the end of any of his turns if he 
  has more models completely in his opponent’s command 
  trench than his opponent has in that trench. Ignore models 
  that are fleeing or out of formation, inert warjacks, and wild 
  warbeasts when counting models in a command trench. A 
  player also wins the game when he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer games.
  desCription
  Last Stand is a desperate battle for survival. Surrounded and 
  cut off from support, one army prepares for the onslaught 
  of its enemies while the other moves to capitalize on its 
  fortunes or be destroyed in the attempt.
  speCial rules
  Before placing terrain, players each roll a d6. The high roller 
  chooses whether to be the attacker or the defender. 
  The attacker sets up first and takes the first turn, but his 
  models lose the Advance Deployment advantage.
  The defender’s deployment zone is a 12˝ × 36˝ area in the 
  southeast table edge. The attacker can deploy his forces 
  anywhere within 10˝ of the north and west table edges.
  The defender can place two terrain features up to 10˝ wide 
  within his deployment zone. After these two terrain features 
  are placed, players take turns placing terrain. The defender 
  cannot place terrain within either player’s deployment zone, 
  and the attacker cannot place terrain within the defender’s 
  deployment zone.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer games.
  41
  
  unbound rules
  10˝
  10˝
  18˝
  5˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  18˝
  oCCupation
  Only two blocks of blasted and burning 
  buildings stand between us and the enemy. 
  However, my orders say to take and hold this 
  town and that is exactly what I intend to do.
  —Captain Kara Sloan
  At the end of each round starting with the second, a player 
  scores 1 victory point if he has more models completely 
  in the area of the Town Square than his opponent. Ignore 
  models that are fleeing or out of formation, inert warjacks, 
  and wild warbeasts when determining models in the area 
  of the Town Square.
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  In a three-player game, center the Town Square at a point 
  in the middle of the table 28˝ from the west table edge. The 
  Town Square remains centered in the middle of the table in 
  a four-player game.
  desCription
  This battle takes place within the sprawling confines of a 
  small town. Its outer defenses are breached, and two great 
  armies now rush to secure the town before it is consumed 
  by the flames of war.
  speCial rules
  In the center of the table is an 18˝ × 18˝ area representing 
  the Town Square. In the middle of the Town Square is 
  5˝-diameter raised fountain. The fountain area is shallow 
  water that provides cover. Place eight 4˝ × 6˝ structures 
  around the Town Square as shown on the map. These 
  structures are ARM 16 and collapse after taking 80 points 
  of damage.
  Players then take turns placing terrain normally. Each 
  player must place at least three terrain features, which is 
  limited to structures, ruins, walls, and up to one forest. 
  Remember that terrain features cannot be placed within 3˝ 
  of another terrain feature. Additionally, no terrain features 
  can be placed within the Town Square.
  42
  
  sCorChed earth
  Leave no stone standing. It will be as if the 
  elements themselves passed judgment upon 
  our enemies. 
  —Krueger the Stormwrath
  completely on his own side of the table and the other two 
  completely on the attacker’s side of the table. The structures 
  cannot be smaller than 3˝ × 5˝ or larger than 6˝ × 8˝, are 
  ARM 18, and collapse after taking 100 points of damage. 
  After the five structures are placed, the defender can place 
  up to three additional terrain features. The attacker can then 
  place up to two terrain features. Remember that a terrain 
  feature cannot be placed within 3˝ of another terrain feature, 
  including a structure.
  The defender deploys his models first and takes the first turn. 
  viCtory Conditions
  The attacker wins when three of the structures are collapsed 
  or if he has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in 
  play. The defender wins if at the end of the fifth round three 
  structures remain standing or if he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer games.
  desCription
  This battle fully embraces the spirit of total war. One 
  army defends a fortified base, settlement, or encampment 
  while their enemies attempt to destroy every structure left 
  standing.
  speCial rules
  Before placing terrain, players each roll a d6. The high roller 
  chooses whether to be the attacker or the defender. 
  Before deploying, the defender places five structures 
  within 20˝ of the center of the table but not within 5˝ of a 
  deployment zone. He must place three of these structures 
  43
  
  Players should strive to keep their forces mobile in this 
  scenario. Going for a warcaster kill may be rewarding in 
  the short term, but the real prize here is the treasure. As 
  ruins are eliminated as hiding places and the potential 
  locations become increasingly limited, you will want to 
  reposition your models to concentrate on those ruins that 
  remain unsearched. It could take quite a while to reveal 
  which ruin contains the treasure, so plan your end game 
  accordingly! 
  keep your eyes on the prize
  unbound rules
  Whether or not the treasure is found, the model’s activation 
  ends immediately after the special action is resolved.
  Once a model locates the treasure, the treasure will move 
  with that model. It may be helpful to place a marker next to 
  the model currently carrying the treasure. 
  A friendly warrior model B2B with the model carrying the 
  treasure can make a special action to take the treasure. The 
  treasure can change hands this way only once each turn.
  If the model carrying the treasure is destroyed or removed 
  from play, mark the location of the center of the model’s 
  base at the time it left play. This is the new location of 
  the treasure. If the model carrying the treasure moves or 
  is placed by any means other than advancing, it drops 
  the treasure, which remains on the table centered on the 
  model’s location before moving or being placed. 
  If the treasure is on the table and not being carried by 
  model, a warrior model in B2B contact with the treasure can 
  perform a special action to pick it up. 
  viCtory Conditions
  A player wins the game when the treasure is within his 
  deployment zone or if he has the only remaining warcaster(s) 
  or warlock(s) in play.
  Multiplayer gaMe
  In multiplayer games each player places only two ruins. In 
  a four-player game, the ruins can be placed within 22˝ of the 
  center of the table.
  desCription
  It is a race for vast riches, ancient artifacts, or secret lore 
  as rival armies compete to unearth and retrieve hidden 
  treasures.
  speCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, players take turns 
  each placing two 4˝ × 6˝ ruins anywhere not within 18˝ of 
  the back edge of a deployment zone. These ruins cannot 
  be placed within 5˝ of another ruin. After the ruins have 
  been placed, players take turns each placing two additional 
  terrain features.
  Ruins are rough terrain. A model within the area of a ruin 
  gains cover.
  In this scenario, players are competing to locate and retrieve 
  a treasure. To find the treasure, players must have their 
  models search the ruins.
  Models cannot begin the game within the area of a ruin.
  A player can have one of his warrior models search a ruin 
  if the only models in the ruin are his and the searching 
  model began its activation completely within the ruin. To 
  search the ruin, the model must make a special action while 
  completely within the ruin. When a model makes a special 
  action to search a ruin, roll a d6. On a 6 the treasure has been 
  found. Each ruin can be searched only once. If the treasure 
  has not yet been found when the last ruin is searched, 
  that search automatically results in finding the treasure. 
  treasure hunt
  If it falls into the wrong hands it could change 
  the course of history…
  —Major Victoria Haley
  44
  
  Permission is hereby granted to create reproductions of this page for personal, non-commercial use only.
  Theme Forces
  WarbeasTs: Trollblood  
  non-character warbeasts
  UniTs: Pyg Bushwhackers, Thumper Crews, Trollkin 
  Highwaymen, Trollkin Scouts, Trollkin Sluggers
  solos: Fell Caller solos
  Tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Thumper Crew units by 1. For 
  each non–Thumper Crew unit in the army, increase the FA 
  of Thumper Crew units by +1. 
  Tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Trollkin 
  Scout units.
  Benefit: Trollkin Scout units gain Ambush. (You can 
  choose not to deploy a unit with Ambush at the start of 
  the game. If it is not deployed normally, you can put it 
  into play at the end of any of your Control Phases after 
  your first turn. When you do, choose any table edge except 
  the back of your opponent’s deployment zone. Place the 
  models in the unit within 3˝ of the chosen table edge.)
  Tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes three or more light 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Light warbeasts gain Advance Deployment 
  .
  Tier 4
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Pyg 
  Bushwhacker units.
  Benefit: Your deployment zone is extended 2˝ forward.
  WarbeasTs: Circle non-character 
  warbeasts
  UniTs: Druids of Orboros, Tharn units
  solos: Druid Wilder, Gallows Grove, Blackclad solos, 
  Tharn solos
  baTTle engine: Celestial Fulcrum
  Tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: You can redeploy models/units with Prey after 
  both players have deployed but before the first player’s 
  first turn. The redeployed models must be placed on the 
  table in a location they could have been deployed initially.
  Tier 2
  Requirements: Morvahna’s battlegroup includes two or 
  more living warbeasts.
  Benefit: You gain +1 on your starting roll for the game.
  Tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes a Druid Wilder.
  Benefit: Friendly models/units can begin the game 
  affected by Morvahna’s upkeep spells. These spells and 
  their targets must be declared before either player sets up 
  models. Morvahna does not pay focus to upkeep these 
  spells during your first turn.
  Tier 4
  Requirements: The army includes two or more Tharn units.
  Benefit: Reduce the point cost of Tharn unit attachments 
  and weapon attachments by 1.
  Hunters Grim
  hUnTing ParTy
  Morvahna the DawnshaDow
  seasons oF FaTe
  45
  
  Makeda & the exalted Court
  arMageddon
  warbeasts: Skorne non-character 
  warbeasts
  units: Paingiver Beast Handlers, 
  Cataphract units, small-based Praetorian units
  solos: Ancestral Guardian solos, Aptimus Marketh
  battle engine: Siege Animantarax
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Makeda & the Exalted Court gain Advance Move. 
  (Before the start of the game but after both players have 
  deployed, a model with Advance Move can make a full 
  advance.)
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes Aptimus Marketh.
  Benefit: Aptimus Marketh and Ancestral Guardian solos 
  each begin the game with one soul token.
  tier 3
  Requirements: Makeda’s battlegroup includes three or 
  more warbeasts.
  Benefit: You gain +1 on your starting roll for the game.
  tier 4
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Mammoth 
  gargantuans.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of huge-based models in this 
  army by 2.
  LyLyth, Reckoning of eveRbLight
  sCourge of god
  warbeasts: Legion non-character 
  warbeasts
  units: Legion units with ranged weapons
  solos: Beast Mistress, Blighted Nyss Shepherd, Legion 
  solos with ranged weapons
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: For each Strider Deathstalker solo in the army, 
  you can redeploy one model/unit after both players 
  have deployed but before the first player’s first turn. 
  The redeployed models must be placed on the table in a 
  location they could have been deployed initially.
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes one or more units.
  Benefit: Units gain Stealth 
   during the first round of  
  the game.
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Blighted 
  Nyss Shepherds.
  Benefit: For each Blighted Nyss Shepherd solo in the 
  army, one warbeast in Lylyth’s battlegroup can use its 
  animus during your first turn without being forced. These 
  warbeasts cannot also be forced to use their animi that turn.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Lylyth’s battlegroup includes one or more 
  Archangel gargantuans.
  Benefit: For each Archangel gargantuan in Lylyth’s 
  battlegroup, add a lesser warbeast to Lylyth’s battlegroup 
  free of cost.
  Permission is hereby granted to create reproductions of this page for personal, non-commercial use only.
  46
  
  Permission is hereby granted to create reproductions of this page for personal, non-commercial use only.
  Midas
  butCher’s bloCk
  warbeasts: Minion Farrow  
  non-character warbeasts
  units: Farrow units
  solos: Farrow solos, Rorsh & Brine
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Farrow Bone Grinder units become FA U. Midas’ 
  battlegroup can include Boneswarm warbeasts.
  tier 2
  Requirements: This army includes one or more Farrow 
  Bone Grinder units.
  Benefit: For each Farrow Bone Grinder unit in the army, 
  one warbeast in Midas’ battlegroup gains Advance Move. 
  (Before the start of the game but after both players have 
  deployed, a model with Advance Move can make a full 
  advance.)
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes one or more 
  Slaughterhouser units.
  Benefit: For each Slaughterhouser unit in the army, one 
  Boneswarm warbeast begins the game with three corpse 
  tokens.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Midas’ battlegroup includes four or more 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Add one Farrow non-character warbeast to Midas’ 
  battlegroup. The warbeast begins the game destroyed.
  Rask
  watery graves
  warbeasts: Minion Gatorman  
  non-character warbeasts
  units: Gatorman Bokor & Bog Trog 
  Swamp Shamblers, Bog Trog units
  solos: Thrullg, Minion solos with Amphibious, 
  Totem Hunter 
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Gatorman Bokor & Bog Trog Swamp Shambler 
  units become FA 2. Bog Trog Ambusher units become  
  FA 4.
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes Totem Hunter.
  Benefit: Solos in the army gain Advance Move. (Before 
  the start of the game but after both players have 
  deployed, a model with Advance Move can make a full 
  advance.)
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes two or more units.
  Benefit: For every two units in the army, add a Croak 
  Hunter solo to the army free of cost. These solos do not 
  count toward FA restrictions.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Rask’s battlegroup includes three or more 
  warbeasts.
  Benefit: Your deployment zone is extended 2˝ forward.
  47
  
  48
  Helmsreach, In the Wyrmwall Mountains
  deep enMity and Cold blood
  trollbloods
  Grim Angus propped his rifle against his shoulder and set 
  his eye against the scope. This high up, Headhunter gave 
  him a commanding view of the secluded mountain valley 
  below. It was an idyllic place, untouched by the nations of 
  the Iron Kingdoms or those serving them. A wide stream 
  ran the length of the valley floor, feeding into and flowing 
  out of a small lake. Above the lake stood an imposing 
  wall of granite, a flat-topped cliff nestled between the 
  mountainsides.
  What Grim saw in the valley was wholly unexpected: 
  a daunting force of Tharn, warpborn skinwalkers, 
  woldstalkers, and dozens of blackclad druids, with a 
  number of mighty beasts and stone wold constructs. He 
  panned Headhunter left and right, estimating troop counts 
  as his lens passed over the force. Most were concentrated 
  near the base of the granite cliff.
  Half a dozen woldwardens clustered around a massive 
  wold that was easily thirty feet tall and carved of such a 
  tremendous volume of wood and stone that its ability to 
  move defied all reason. Grim recognized it as a woldwrath, 
  one of the greatest weapons in the druids’ arsenal. It drew 
  back one mighty fist and smashed it into the cliff side to 
  gouge a huge chunk of stone from the wall amid a shower of 
  debris. Large pieces of stone were hauled away by groups of 
  Tharn or other wolds. Elsewhere ranking blackclads stood 
  surrounded by runes of power as they directed pieces of 
  stone to float across the air. He saw several of these gathered 
  near one of the cliff faces, and by the power of their will 
  alone an enormous fragment shivered free and drifted to 
  join the others.
  Grim felt certain this was not simply a quarry; woldwraths 
  were too valuable for that. He moved Headhunter up 
  the granite face of the cliff, his view through the scope 
  shaking slightly as the woldwrath continued to pound at 
  the rock. There, atop the mesa-like cliff, was what Hoarluk 
  Doomshaper had sent him to find.
  To the naked eye, the monolith appeared as nothing more 
  than a strangely situated column of crudely carved stone, but 
  it was much more. Through his augmented scope he could 
  discern shapes carved into its surface, edges weathered 
  from thousands of years of exposure to the elements. It was 
  as Doomshaper had described: two great eyes and a fanged 
  maw below a stylized mountain. The mark of the mountain 
  king. According to myth, below the granite mesa rested a 
  creature out of legend. Grim was skeptical such a creature 
  could even exist, but he had fulfilled his task by finding the 
  long-forgotten warning stone.
  What Doomshaper had not predicted was the Circle 
  Orboros finding it first. It could be no coincidence the 
  blackclads were here. That they had brought a woldwrath 
  was particularly disconcerting. So far as he knew, the great 
  constructs were only used to protect vital druid holdings; 
  this was the first time he had ever actually seen one.
  Hoarluk needed to know about this—now.
  Grim turned and clambered up the bare cliff face behind 
  him. The pine forest was dense enough to hide his small, 
  mobile force of pyg bushwhackers and trollkin scouts. His 
  three trolls—Thokk, Muk, and Drogg—were farther back, 
  as two impalers and a swamp troll were more difficult 
  to conceal. Krump and Muggs, his two pyg companions, 
  immediately moved from their hiding spots to meet him.
  “Any problems?” Grim asked as the trio walked farther into 
  the woods. Krump coughed, causing the iron bear traps on 
  his belt to rattle, and raised his eyebrows at Muggs. “What?” 
  Grim asked and stopped in his tracks. He felt the dread that 
  always indicated a well-laid plan going off the cliff.
  “We had some trouble,” Muggs said.
  Grim sighed. “Were you spotted?”
  “Not exactly,” Krump replied reluctantly. “Easier if we just 
  show you.”
  Krump and Muggs led him deeper into the forest. They 
  soon came upon the rest of his party in a small clearing. 
  Several of the pygs were gathered around something 
  on the ground, while the scouts stood guard around the 
  
  49
  outside. Grim pushed his way through and looked down 
  at the corpses of two scaly, fish-like humanoids. Each bore 
  wounds from the hand axes of trollkin scouts.
  “Bog trogs,” Grim said darkly. “Likely brought by the 
  druids to watch their perimeter. Were there others?”
  Krump shook his head. “Didn’t see any.”
  “Bog trogs always travel in groups,” Grim said, frowning. 
  “There are more somewhere. We have to assume we’ve 
  been discovered. We need to get back. And fast.”
  Rask opened his eyes and squinted against the weak 
  afternoon sun. He longed for the warm, comfortable 
  gloom of the swamp, with its deep, murky waters 
  and shielding canopy of cypress and mangroves. The 
  Wyrmwall Mountains were dry and freezing, and 
  his makeshift camp near an icy mountain river only 
  intensified his misery.
  He and his bog trogs had taken to basking in the sun at 
  high noon, trying to soak up as much heat as possible before 
  night. Rask had claimed a large boulder in the shallows that 
  captured a little more heat than the sandy shore, though 
  the cold still left him sluggish and slow-minded. His bog 
  trogs and croak hunters lay nearby, many partially buried 
  in the sand. His beasts had taken the cold even harder. Rask 
  glanced over at a pair of ironback spitters huddled together 
  like two great, green boulders.
  The sun had warmed Rask’s blood sufficiently to fuel his 
  rage at the creature responsible for bringing him to this place. 
  The gatorman bokor Barnabas had commanded him to serve 
  the wretched human blackclads. So far he and his bog trogs 
  had done little more than endure the cold while the humans 
  smashed chunks from a cliff side in a nearby mountain valley. 
  The druids had told him to guard the area around the valley, 
  and he had complied, sending small groups of bog trogs and 
  croak hunters on patrol. So far they had encountered nothing, 
  and Rask grew impatient and irritable.
  He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and sat 
  up on his boulder. The gatorman shaman Kymak beckoned 
  him with one taloned hand. Rask grimaced and slid from 
  his perch to wade through the ankle-deep water. At his 
  approach, the bog trogs on shore turned their heads away 
  and flattened their crests against their skulls in deference. 
  Only the semi-sentient shamblers—the reanimated corpses 
  of bog trog warriors—were standing; they lingered close 
  to Kymak, their creator and master. Rask repressed a 
  shudder as he drew close to the animated corpses; this 
  was yet another way the gatormen heaped indignity on 
  his people.
  The bokor had made a fire, and Rask shoved one of the 
  rotting bog trog shamblers aside and hunkered down next 
  to the warmth. “What is it, Kymak?” Rask said in Quor-Gar, 
  the rumbling tongue of the gatormen.
  Kymak did not bare his throat as he would for a gatorman 
  of higher rank and power. Rask was a powerful sorcerer 
  and a skilled warrior, but the gatormen of the Blindwater 
  Congregation had long ago subjugated the bog trogs and 
  considered them cannon fodder at best and food at worst. 
  Even a bog trog as mighty as Rask barely earned their notice.
  As he had many times before, Rask imagined how satisfying 
  it would be to bury his sacral blade in Kymak’s scaly chest. 
  The arrogant, condescending gatorman was Barnabas’ eyes 
  and ears, though, and his death would make things extremely 
  complicated for Rask when he returned to the Scarleforth.
  “Two of your scouts have been killed,” Kymak said. When 
  Rask asked for more information, the gatorman simply 
  stared at him, volunteering nothing.
  “Where?” Rask rose to his feet.
  Kymak pointed a taloned finger at a pair of croak hunters 
  farther down the beach. The frog-like humanoids, called 
  anura in their own tongue, leaned on their spears. “I told 
  them to take you when you finished your . . . nap.”
  Images of murder surged again through Rask’s mind. 
  Shoving the thoughts from his head, he turned and made 
  his way down the beach.
  “Show me,” Rask said to the anura in their husky tongue 
  when he reached them. They inclined their heads and began 
  moving toward the tree line some twenty yards from the 
  river. Rask followed.
  The croaks took Rask roughly a mile into the woods, 
  ascending at a steep angle. Eventually they led him to 
  a small clearing where a pair of dead bog trogs had been 
  hidden. Rask hunkered down next to the corpses and 
  brushed away the leaves and debris. Both had been killed 
  with edged weapons—probably axes.
  He rose and examined the area. The tracks leading from 
  the bodies had been well disguised but were still visible to 
  Rask’s keen senses. There were boot tracks but also barefoot 
  marks, all familiar, including those of several larger and 
  heavier creatures. He had an immediate suspicion.
  as he had Many tiMes before, 
  rask iMagined how satisfying 
  it would be to bury his saCral 
  blade in kyMak’s sCaly Chest . 
  
  50
  “Come with me,” Rask said to the two croaks. “Quietly.” 
  They moved swiftly through the forest, following the tracks 
  until they heard the sounds of soft voices ahead.
  Rask and the croaks moved toward the noise, their footsteps 
  whisper-soft over the forest floor. They stopped as soon as 
  he could see both armed trollkin and pygs halted near a 
  stream. With them was a trio of full-blood trolls.
  Rask’s eyes went to the trollkin leader. The figure was attired 
  in a long leather cloak, goggles, and a broad-brimmed hat, 
  partially obscuring his face, but it was the strange, axe-fitted 
  rifle that left little doubt as to his identity: Grim Angus.
  The bog trog pondered the situation, the spines in his crest 
  quivering. He had worked with Grim a handful of times; the 
  trollkin was a skilled tracker, but they’d never gotten along. 
  The trollkin were now enemies of the blackclads, his current 
  employer, which made this discovery both interesting and 
  potentially profitable.
  After gaining a sense of Grim’s intended course, Rask signaled 
  the croak hunters to retreat, and the three of them moved 
  slowly and silently away. The trollkin had a small force—a 
  scouting party, then. This was an opportunity; Rask could feel 
  it in his blood. The obvious response would be to kill Grim 
  for intruding on the blackclads’ operation. That was what the 
  druids would expect. But that death would accomplish nothing 
  more than fulfilling his duty as the humans’ watchdog.
  If he ambushed the trollkin sorcerer, on the other hand, 
  Grim would make a valuable prisoner. He could take the 
  trollkin to the druids, proving his skill and ensuring they 
  treated him with greater respect. But would they thank 
  him? Would they help him remove the shackles Barnabas 
  had placed around his neck?
  A third option leapt to mind. Grim was quite valuable to 
  the united kriels, and they might offer something more 
  valuable than the druids for him. Either way, Rask could 
  reap the rewards.
  One thing was certain: he would need more forces to take 
  on Grim. He knew Haltshire Lake was just to the west, in 
  the direction Grim was heading. There were several tribes 
  of bog trogs there and possibly other creatures he could 
  bend to his will. If he could reach Haltshire before Grim, the 
  site would serve perfectly for his ambush.
  “Why’s it so quiet?” Krump asked.
  Grim glared at the pyg following him. He, Muggs, Krump, 
  and the swamp troll Muk moved along the shore of Lake 
  Haltshire, while his scouts, bushwhackers, and two of his 
  trolls kept pace in the nearby pine forest. “It was quiet,” he 
  whispered irritably.
  “Idiot,” Muggs hissed and slapped the hat off his 
  associate’s head. This began a brief tussle that ended 
  only when Grim silently commanded Muk to separate 
  them. The swamp troll lassoed Muggs with its long, sticky 
  tongue and dragged him perilously close to its gaping 
  maw before releasing him.
  “Enough,” Grim said in a voice that clearly demonstrated 
  he was not amused. “Keep moving, and watch the lake.” 
  The abashed pygs obeyed.
  They’d come across the webbed tracks of bog trogs not long 
  after entering the area. Care had been taken to obscure the 
  tracks, and Grim hadn’t seen them until long after he and 
  his trollkin had entered the area around the lake. What most 
  concerned him were the other tracks interspersed among 
  those of the bog trogs: taloned prints left by something very 
  large and very heavy.
  In order to reach Doomshaper and the army of the 
  united kriels he had no choice but pass Haltshire. The 
  information about the mountain kings and the Circle 
  couldn’t wait for him to take the longer route bypassing 
  the lake.
  Suddenly the tranquil surface of the water was ruptured by 
  the emergence of bog trogs and a large, bipedal turtle-like 
  beast. Grim immediately lifted Headhunter and sighted 
  on the lead bog trog, a familiar large, muscular individual 
  carrying a spear gun with the triple-tined head of a trident 
  jutting from its barrel.
  “It’s been a long time, Grim,” the big bog trog called out. 
  The sound of his burbling voice confirmed his identity and 
  made Grim hesitate, his finger still on the trigger.
  “Rask,” he said with a grimace. He knew the bog trog 
  warlock from his old life, when he was a bounty hunter. 
  The bog trog was cruel, self-serving, and utterly lethal. 
  Grim had even heard rumors that the warlock had sold 
  his tribe to the gatormen to save his own hide—in the 
  process becoming little more than a slave to the leading 
  bokors of Blindwater. “You’re far from home. Barnabas 
  let you off the leash?”
  “I’m my own master,” Rask hissed irritably. “If you want to 
  live, drop your weapon and surrender.”
  a huge oCtopoid nightMare 
  with bulbous eyes and a 
  beaked Maw of serrated teeth 
  dragged itself froM the lake .
  
  51
  Grim counted two dozen bog trogs, including Rask, plus 
  the ironback spitter. Not an insurmountable force if he 
  could draw Rask to the beach, but knowing the bog trog, he 
  had kept some in reserve—bog trogs preferred to surprise 
  their prey. He saw Muk edging forward out of the corner 
  of his eye; the swamp troll’s rage was mounting, and Grim 
  pulled him back with some effort. “I’ve seen what happens 
  to your prisoners, Rask.”
  “You have no choice.” Rask said. He and the rest of 
  his amphibious force began wading toward the shore. 
  “Surrender, or die.”
  Grim had no time to signal his intentions to the rest of his 
  people, who waited nearer the tree line. He would have to 
  trust they would follow his lead. The bog trogs were twenty 
  feet from the shore now. “No closer, Rask. I mean it.”
  “Oh, I’m closer than you think,” Rask said with a fanged grin.
  Grim’s finger tensed on the trigger but before he could fire 
  the edge of the lake erupted in a geyser of water. A flurry of 
  grey, rubbery tentacles as thick as a trollkin’s leg followed. 
  One of them smashed into Grim, knocking him to the 
  ground. Krump and Muggs ran to his side to help him to 
  his feet, nimbly avoiding the waving tentacles.
  “Back!” Grim shouted, scrambling away from the water. He 
  sent Muk barreling forward, and the swamp troll lumbered 
  into the water and reached up to grasp two of the larger 
  tentacles in its claws.
  A huge octopoid nightmare with bulbous eyes and a beaked 
  maw of serrated teeth dragged itself from the lake. It pulled 
  its tentacles free and then lashed onto Muk instead, proving 
  to be stronger than the troll. Grim could feel its pain and 
  rage escalate. “Hold on, Muk,” Grim said and he silently 
  used his will to hasten the troll’s flesh to regenerate.
  He then sprang to his feet, shouldered Headhunter, and fired 
  at the bog trog leader. Anticipating the shot, Rask ducked 
  beneath the water, only to resurface several yards closer 
  and charge from the lake with the rest of his bog trogs. The 
  spitter launched a gob of acid over the advancing fish-men. 
  The vile stuff missed Grim and the pygs and hissed angrily 
  where it struck the ground.
  Grim reloaded and fired again three times as he, Krump, 
  and Muggs moved steadily back toward the tree line. Two 
  of his bullets cut down bog trogs emerging from the water, 
  while the third struck the ironback spitter above the knee on 
  its right leg, removing a chunk of its scaly hide and eliciting 
  a hiss of rage and pain. Krump tossed traps in the path of 
  the bog trogs, and the metal jaws closed brutally around 
  the ankles of three fish-men even as Muggs fired his snare 
  gun. Another bog trog fell to the ground, thrashing beneath 
  a weighted net.
  Grim had twenty pyg bushwhackers and a dozen scouts 
  concealed in the trees—and Rask and his bog trogs 
  were walking right into their line of fire. Summoning 
  his most potent sorcery, Grim focused his magic on the 
  pyg bushwhackers and trollkin scouts concealed among 
  the trees. He sharpened their visual acuity and soothed 
  adrenaline-soaked nerves, allowing them to fire with much 
  greater accuracy.
  “Now!” Grim shouted and turned to add his own fire. The 
  forest behind him erupted with gunfire and thrown axes. 
  Bolstered by his sorcery, nearly all the missiles found their 
  mark, and the advancing bog trogs crumpled to the ground 
  one after another. Two immense spears, hurled by his 
  impalers Thokk and Drogg, thudded into the armored torso 
  of the ironback spitter, knocking it from its feet.
  Following the murderous volley, the trollkin scouts and 
  both impalers broke cover and charged. A bolt from Rask’s 
  harpoon gun thudded into the face of the first scout to 
  reach the beach, taking him down. Grim spied the warlock 
  near the left flank of the remaining bog trogs, reloading his 
  harpoon gun and backing toward the water.
  Predictably, Rask was fighting from the rear and letting his 
  forces absorb the brunt of the enemy attacks. Grim brought 
  Headhunter up, sighted on the bog trog warlock, and fired. 
  The bullet struck Rask in the shoulder and pushed him back 
  a few staggering steps. The wound wasn’t mortal, and Grim 
  knew Rask had likely shunted the injury to his spitter, but it 
  was a start. Rask dove away, disappearing from view.
  As Grim fired expertly past them, his scouts surged across 
  the beach with guttural howls and slammed into their foes, 
  ripping a bloody swath through the bog trogs with their 
  axes. The pyg bushwhackers had formed a gun line and 
  were picking off trogs unengaged with trollkin. Thokk and 
  Drogg skewered bog trogs with each thrust of their spears.
  Grim and his trollkin made short work of the outnumbered 
  and outmatched bog trogs. Over a dozen fishy corpses littered 
  the beach, and only the ironback spitter, the tentacled beast, 
  and Rask remained. Grim felt satisfaction as he reloaded and 
  waited for his chance to deliver the killing shot.
  Rask watched his bog trogs fall beneath the trollkin axes. 
  Their deaths had served him: Grim’s forces had advanced 
  down onto the beach within a stone’s throw of the water.
  He leapt to his feet and saw the enemy advancing toward 
  him, weapons ready. Grim and his pygs were farther back, 
  behind the trollkin. Rask ducked behind the looming bulk of 
  the ironback spitter to his right, placing twelve feet of scale, 
  horn, and muscle between himself and Grim’s rifle. Farther 
  
  52
  rask’s voiCe drifted through  
  the fog, its sourCe iMpossible  
  to pinpoint . “i’d like to take  
  you alive, but your Corpse 
  would serve Me nearly as well .”
  down the beach, his swamp horror was locked in combat 
  with the swamp troll. He urged the beast to attack with all its 
  rage and enjoyed feeling it tear the swamp troll to pieces with 
  its tentacles, spraying dripping remains across the beach.
  “It’s over, Rask!” Grim called out angrily. He punctuated 
  this by sending another bullet into the spitter, opening 
  another bleeding wound.
  Rask squatted down in the shallows near the lake shore, 
  dangling both webbed hands in the cold water. He turned 
  his focus inward, plumbing the murky depths of his power, 
  and let it flow into the lake. A dank and supernaturally thick 
  fog rose from the surface of the water and moved inland, 
  flowing over the trollkin on the shore.
  The fog made it impossible for Grim’s forces to see anything 
  beyond a dozen paces, while Rask’s forces suffered no 
  hindrance. This was the signal the rest of Rask’s warriors 
  had been awaiting. From the lake around him rose several 
  dozen additional bog trogs along with the gatorman shaman 
  Kymak and his undead shamblers.
  Rask could see the trollkin and pygmy trolls on the beach 
  stumbling blindly through the unnatural mist. Shouts of 
  confusion and fear echoed through the fog until the loud 
  voice of Grim overrode them.
  “Back to the trees!” Grim shouted. “To me!”
  Rask knew he had to exploit his advantage. “Kymak,” Rask 
  called out. “Slay Grim Angus. The glory of his death shall 
  be yours.”
  Kymak regarded Rask through slitted reptilian eyes. He 
  was suspicious and watchful but not very bright, and the 
  lure of such a kill was enough to persuade him. He clacked 
  his jaws and rumbled, “Now you will see why your kind is 
  only fit to serve mine.”
  Rask watched as the gatorman moved off. If Grim killed 
  Kymak in battle, Rask would be well rid of his watchful 
  presence. He could truthfully tell Barnabas he had nothing 
  to do with his death.
  Rask summoned the ironback spitter and the swamp horror 
  and waved his sacral blade toward the beleaguered trollkin. 
  The bog trogs moved swiftly and silently from the water, 
  and he fell in behind them, ready to secure his prize.
  Grim took a step back and reversed his grip on 
  Headhunter, readying its axe blade. The mist Rask had 
  conjured was so thick he couldn’t penetrate it even with 
  his mage sight. All he could see was Muggs and Krump, 
  who had both drawn close as soon as the mist fell, one 
  behind Grim and one in front.
  “This stuff’s thicker than Borka’s beer,” Muggs grumbled 
  as he slung his blunderbuss over his shoulder and took his 
  hand axe from his belt.
  Grim was all but blind, but he could hear plenty. The 
  sounds of battle surrounded them, although he couldn’t tell 
  how many enemies they faced or how many kin remained 
  alive. He looked through his impalers’ eyes and saw the 
  squirming form of the tentacled beast snapping its beaked 
  jaws at Thokk, who was as yet only lightly injured. Drogg 
  was unharmed, and Grimm goaded both of them, spiking 
  their ferocity to near frenzy.
  “’Ware!” Muggs suddenly yelled from behind. Grim 
  whirled, bringing Headhunter up and across his body. 
  Shambling figures were moving out of the mist, each a 
  rotting bog trog corpse.
  The thud of Muggs’ snare gun sounded, followed by the 
  metallic rattling of two of Krump’s bear traps clamping 
  on undead bog trog legs. Grim and the two pygs quickly 
  dispatched the felled shamblers, cleaving undead skulls 
  with short blows. More appeared from the mist, and the 
  three repeated the scenario: snare gun, bear traps, axes.
  “I think we—” Krump closed his mouth with a snap as 
  a huge, scaly shape came hurtling out of the fog. The 
  gatorman shaman charged Grim, smashed into him, and 
  drove him to the ground. Grim’s arms remained free, 
  and he retained a grip on his weapon. As the attacker 
  leaned close to seize the trollkin’s head in his jaws, Grim 
  spun the axe blade of his rifle to hack into the side of the 
  gatorman’s head, sending him toppled sideways, limbs 
  twitching as he died.
  As Grim climbed to his feet he heard a small metallic 
  sound at the edge of his awareness and felt a vague sense 
  of alarm before Rask’s bolt thudded into his shoulder with 
  a spike of pain. Grim felt a terrible lethargy take hold of 
  his limbs.
  The hulking shape of the ironback spitter loomed out of 
  the mist. The paralytic magic of Rask’s bolt rooted Grim in 
  place, but he raised Headhunter.
  “Your last chance.” Rask’s voice drifted through the fog, its 
  source impossible to pinpoint. “I’d like to take you alive, 
  but your corpse would serve me nearly as well.”
  
  53
  The sounds of desperate combat were all around. Grim’s 
  trollkin still battled for their lives. He answered Rask by 
  squeezing Headhunter’s trigger. The slug struck the spitter 
  squarely, and it staggered back a few paces.
  “Kill him!” Rask howled.
  Through a great effort of will, Grim fought off the paralysis 
  and felt sensation returning to his limbs. He looked through 
  the eyes of his two impalers again. Through Drogg he saw 
  the inert corpse of the tentacled monstrosity, its rubbery 
  hide leaking black ichor from numerous gouges. Both trolls 
  were injured, but not mortally, and he summoned them to 
  rejoin him. He did not see Muggs and Krump. He rapped 
  his knuckles on Headhunter’s stock in a precise rhythm, 
  loud enough to be heard from a distance.
  The wounded ironback spitter was barreling toward him, 
  beaked jaws agape in rage. He shot it again, but it didn’t 
  slow. Grim flipped Headhunter in his grip again, hoping he 
  might score a lucky strike with its axe blade before the spitter 
  tore him to pieces. It was nearly on top of him when Thokk’s 
  and Drogg’s hurled spears struck it and sent it to the ground. 
  The two trolls converged on it in a flurry of stabbing thrusts.
  The mist had begun to disperse. With his beasts dead, Rask 
  was in a dangerous position. If Grim could lure him into 
  close combat, the bog trog warlock wouldn’t be able to 
  avoid death by shunting the wound off to a warbeast.
  A loud, metallic knocking suddenly sounded to Grim’s 
  right, a signal from Krump. He went that direction and 
  almost immediately heard another welcome sound—the 
  muffled thump of Muggs’ snare gun.
  A tangle of figures loomed ahead in the mist, two much 
  smaller than the others. He saw Muggs and Krump locked 
  in combat with two bog trog warriors. What drew his 
  attention, however, was the bog trog on the ground trapped 
  within Muggs’ weighted net.
  Rask had drawn a dagger to cut himself free, but Grim 
  charged forward, covering the distance in three bounds. 
  With a great cry he brought Headhunter’s axe blade 
  down on the back of Rask’s neck. The shock of the 
  impact travelled up his arm, but Rask was miraculously 
  unharmed. Grim growled as the bog trog battling Muggs 
  took the blow meant for its master. Its head toppled to the 
  ground in a geyser of blood, and it collapsed at the feet of 
  the stunned pyg.
  The taint of dark magic caused Grim to falter, providing 
  Rask all the time he needed. The bog trog’s dagger flashed 
  as he sliced through the netting that held him and leapt 
  to his feet. Grim made a lunging swipe with Headhunter, 
  but the fish-man jumped away and raced toward the lake, 
  where he quickly plunged beneath the surface.
  The abandoned bog trogs stepped back toward the water. 
  Knowing they had no loyalty to Rask, Grim commanded 
  his trollkin to let them retreat. Soon only his own ragged 
  forces remained. He glanced around at the steep casualties, 
  including several scouts and pygs he had fought alongside 
  for months. His heart grew heavy, but his time with the 
  Thornwood kriels and their struggles had slightly inured 
  him to such losses. It was best not to become too attached, 
  and at least half the pyg bushwhackers and trollkin scouts 
  had survived.
  “We’d better move quickly,” Grim said to those who 
  remained. “My hunch is Rask didn’t tell the Circle about us 
  yet, or we’d have seen them already. But since his ambush 
  failed, he’ll tell them soon enough. We need to get back to 
  Doomshaper before they try again.”
  “Sorry, we couldn’t get him,” Muggs said at Grim’s side. 
  “That Rask is slick, even for a fish-man.”
  Grim looked down at the pyg and gave him a small nod. 
  “You did good back there.”
  The pyg pushed his goggles back on his head and puffed 
  out his chest. “Hear that, Krump?” he asked, beaming.
  Krump snorted and pulled his hat down over his eyes. “Just 
  ’cause you got lucky.”
  “Both of you did well,” Grim added, to head off an argument 
  between the two. “Glad to see the time I’ve spent training 
  you hasn’t gone to waste. But now we need to be on our 
  way.” Grim put a hand to his injured shoulder and tested 
  its range of motion, glad to see the wound was already on 
  the mend. He spoke up so the others could hear. “Let’s try 
  to make it back by nightfall.”
  The survivors looked less than pleased that they would 
  again be set to a grueling pace, but they knew when Grim 
  was serious and did not question or complain.
  As he and his troops moved off into the forest, Grim’s mind 
  went back to the sight of the woldwrath and all the Circle 
  forces gathered in that valley. He had no doubt Doomshaper 
  would decide to march into the thick of it, regardless of his 
  warnings. He had not seen the last of carnage in this place—
  not by a long shot.
  
  54
  feat: on My Mark 
  With a hunter’s patience, 
  Grim holds back the fire of his 
  kin even as he stores up arcane 
  power to release at the moment 
  of his choosing. On his mark, 
  the arms of his allies erupt in a 
  deafening roar of unnaturally 
  honed firepower. 
  While in Grim’s control 
  area, friendly Faction 
  models gain Mark Target 
  and friendly Faction 
  models’ ranged weapons 
  gain Snipe. On My Mark 
  lasts for one turn. (Other 
  friendly Faction models 
  gain +2 to ranged attack 
  rolls against enemy models within 5˝ of a model with Mark 
  Target that are in its LOS.) (Ranged weapons with Snipe 
  gain +4 RNG). 
  griM 
   Officer
   Pathfinder
   Tough
  Take Down – Models disabled by a melee attack made by this 
  model cannot make a Tough roll. Models boxed by a melee 
  attack made by this model are removed from play. 
  Trollkin – This model is a trollkin. 
  Warlock Unit – This unit is made up of Grim, Muggs, and Krump. 
  headhunter 
   Magical Weapon
  Blood Lure – Warbeasts in this model’s battlegroup can 
  charge enemy models hit by this weapon this turn without 
  being forced. 
  When leaders like Madrak Ironhide and Grissel Bloodsong 
  require the completion of missions in the most remote and 
  inhospitable reaches, it is to Grim Angus they invariably 
  turn. They know he is a staunch-hearted kin who will stop at 
  nothing to complete the task put before him, whether that is 
  tracking down and neutralizing a target or travelling through 
  hostile territory to deliver key orders. Grim’s responsibilities 
  expanded as the leaders of what would become the United 
  Kriels saw his true value, and he established a quick rapport 
  with both Madrak and Grissel in particular. His mastery 
  of the wilds and his skill at coordinating armed forces in 
  stealthy ambushes have made his hand-picked team one of 
  the greatest covert assets of the gathered kriels.
  Even as his role with the kriels has evolved, Grim remains 
  essentially an outsider, a fact he embraces unapologetically. 
  It is in part his outside perspective that makes him so 
  valuable to the leaders who rely upon his opinions. He has 
  no interest in spending his days surrounded by kin other 
  than those few who know how to survive in the wilds—
  skinners and hunters who know when to keep their steps 
  light and their mouths shut and who will obey his signaled 
  orders without hesitation. He has found the company of 
  pygs to be particularly amenable, as they are less inclined to 
  idle chatter and understand that survival in battle requires 
  paying attention and looking out for one another. 
  Mage sight 
  2 
  Ctrl 
  5 
  – 
  yes no 
  Place a 5˝ AOE completely in this model’s control area. While a model is 
  within the AOE, models in this model’s battlegroup ignore forests and 
  cloud effects when drawing LOS to it and ignore Stealth when attacking it. 
  Mirage 
  3 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yes no 
  Target friendly Faction model/unit gains Apparition. (During your 
  Control Phase, place models with Apparition anywhere completely 
  within 2˝ of their current locations. If Mirage affects a unit, only models in 
  formation can be placed.) 
  Mortality 
  3 
  10 
  – 
  – 
  no yes 
  Target enemy model/unit suffers –2 DEF and ARM and cannot be healed. 
  Mortality lasts for one round. 
  pursuit 
  2 
  8 
  – 
  – 
  yes yes 
  If target enemy model/unit advances during its activation, immediately 
  after ending this movement one model in this model’s battlegroup that is 
  in its control area can make a full advance.
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  Among the finest trackers to stalk the wilds of western 
  Immoren, Grim Angus and his band of scouts comprise the 
  first line of defense for the United Kriels. Ranging ahead 
  of the fighting forces, Grim’s band identifies foes—and 
  sometimes eliminates them—long before other warriors 
  even know they are there. This requires its leader to be 
  tremendously vigilant at all times and to have the dogged 
  persistence to investigate any perceived threat, bringing 
  back vital intelligence to arm his allies for the fights ahead. 
  By eliminating the scouts of their enemies, he blinds 
  their armies and leaves them vulnerable. While once he 
  was more of a lone operative working for the kriels, he 
  has since grown into an invaluable leader of the irregular 
  skirmishers fighting alongside the front-line warriors of 
  the new United Kriels.
  Hunters Grim 
  trollblood epiC warloCk unit
  Like I tell my boys, the key to the hunt is anticipating every movement of your prey and staying one 
  step ahead. There’s always one perfect moment to pull the trigger.
  —Grim Angus
   6 
  7 
  6 
  8 
  16 15 
  8
  GRIM
  HEADHUNTER
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   13 
  1 
  — 
  13
   
  POW 
  P+S
  GUN BLADE 
   
  5 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  6 
  DAMAGE 
  17 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  GRiM, MuGGS, & KRuMP 
  WARbEAST POiNTS 
  +4 
  MEDiuM bASE 
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  Take Down – Because a boxed model is removed from play before 
  being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token. 
  Mirage – Remember that troopers must be placed in formation. 
  PursuiT – If an affected model made a full advance, ran, or charged 
  during its activation, a model in this model’s battlegroup gets to 
  make a full advance. 
  
  55
  
  56
  Grim is ultimately a pragmatic individual, one who 
  prefers to view the world in tangible terms. He has worked 
  particularly closely with Grissel Bloodsong in her efforts 
  to protect the kriels while trying to carve out a new home 
  for them. He understands what it takes to get through a 
  difficult winter on what scraps one can find in a barren 
  landscape and has applied those skills to good ends. His 
  travels have brought him into touch with a wide variety 
  of kriels across western Immoren, and he has learned a 
  great deal about their various difficulties and challenges. 
  Practical tasks he understands, whereas the ancient myths 
  unfolding and coming to life around individuals like 
  Ironhide and Doomshaper seem inexplicable and largely 
  irrelevant to him. 
  With the kriels beset by enemies on all sides, the leaders 
  have not lacked for missions suited to the skills of Grim’s 
  band, and he accepts assignments one after the other. He 
  returns to camp only long enough to feed his warriors and 
  full-blood trolls food and allow them some minimal rest 
  before setting back out to fight again. 
  In all his tasks Grim is assisted by a pair of pygs that have 
  become the core of his team: Muggs and Krump. These 
  two came to prominence by proving themselves to be both 
  intelligent and cunning as well as superlative hunters. 
  In short order the pair learned to grasp Grim’s complex 
  system of gestured signals and to fight smoothly alongside 
  him even in silence, all three of them coordinating precise 
  ambushes while tracking down their enemies. Muggs and 
  Krump have passed along their expertise to other pygs in 
  the hunting band and often help keep them in line, freeing 
  Grim to focus on the primary task at hand. 
  Both of these pygs have proven to be tremendous assets. 
  They can be relied upon to see to many vital tasks, including 
  hunting and skinning game, cooking meals, maintaining 
  the band’s equipment, and even making simple repairs to 
  weapons. Grim has taken the time to teach Muggs how to 
  use his snare gun and has come to entrust the pyg with it, 
  while Krump has proven quite capable of devising and 
  implementing cunning snares even in the midst of battle. 
  Both are notable for a degree of stalwart courage under fire 
  that is often lacking in pygs. 
  
  57
  Muggs 
   Pathfinder
   Tough
  Granted: Reform – While 
  this model is in play, after 
  all models in its unit have 
  completed their actions, 
  each can advance up to 3˝. 
  Pyg – This model is a pyg. 
  Take Down – Models 
  disabled by a melee attack 
  made by this model cannot 
  make a Tough roll. Models 
  boxed by a melee attack 
  made by this model are 
  removed from play. 
  kruMp 
   Pathfinder
   Tough
  Granted: circular Vision – 
  While this model is in play, 
  models in this unit gain 
  Circular Vision. (The front 
  arc of a model with Circular Vision extends to 360˚.) 
  Pyg – See above. 
  Take Down – See above. 
  Trapper (Haction) – Place a 5˝ AOE in base contact with this 
  model. The AOE remains in place for one round. Living and 
  Undead models entering or ending their activations in the AOE 
  suffer a POW 10 damage roll. Models that are damaged by 
  Trapper are knocked down. Incorporeal models and models 
  with Flight do not suffer the effects of Trapper. 
  snare gun 
  Knockdown – When a model is hit by an attack with this 
  weapon, it is knocked down. 
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  Take Down – Because a boxed model is removed from play before 
  being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token. 
   6 
  5 
  5 
  6 
  14 12 
  7
   6 
  5 
  5 
  6 
  14 12 
  7
  MUGGS
  KRUMP
  SNARE GUN
  BLUNDERBUSS 
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   8 
  1 
  — 
  —
   8 
  1 
  — 
  12
   
  POW 
  P+S
   
  POW 
  P+S
  HAND AxE
  HAND AxE
   
  3 
  8
   
  3 
  8
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  DAMAGE 
  5 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  SMAll bASE
  Both Muggs and Krump are so strongly devoted to Grim 
  that they occasionally emulate him, a habit particularly 
  notable with Muggs, a gregarious pyg whose devotion 
  sometimes overcomes his good sense. In trying to 
  impress his fellow pygs he sometimes apes the warlock’s 
  expressions and mannerisms. Krump is inclined to be more 
  dour and serious, adopting an attitude more akin to Grim’s 
  own quiet intensity. 
  Together the team of the Hunters Grim have proven to 
  be more than the sum of their individual skills, working 
  seamlessly together on the battlefield to bring down the 
  most difficult targets. Grim and those 
  he leads have steadily become the 
  eyes and ears of the United Kriels, 
  and its leaders know well just 
  how blind and unready they 
  would be without his tireless 
  efforts on the fringes.
  
  58
  night troll 
   Eyeless Sight
   Stealth
  Man-Eater – This model can 
  charge living warrior models 
  without being forced. 
  Regeneration [d3] – This 
  model can be forced to heal 
  d3 damage points once 
  per activation. This model 
  cannot use Regeneration 
  during an activation it runs. 
  wiCked Claw 
  Paralysis – A living model 
  hit by this weapon has 
  its base DEF reduced to 7 
  and cannot run or charge. 
  Paralysis lasts for one round. 
  trolls must be compelled to fight during the day and are 
  temperamental when roused. Still, their savage tempers and 
  effective hunting methods make them lethal and terrifying 
  allies for those warlocks willing to work with them. A foe 
  hypnotized on the battlefield is easily torn to shreds by 
  the troll’s venomous, paralyzing claws, and the sight of a 
  ravening night troll feasting on a screaming comrade is a 
  terrible one for any soldier to behold.
  For those communities 
  of the Iron Kingdoms 
  situated near dark and 
  cave-riddled mountains, 
  the night troll is a rarely 
  seen but profound source 
  of terror. The presence of these creatures is marked by an 
  eerie glow at the mouth of caves, luring animals and the 
  unwary to a gruesome end.
  This species has adapted superbly to life in the dark caverns 
  of Immoren’s mountains and the subterranean labyrinths 
  below ancient ruins. As its eyes have atrophied, its other 
  senses have sharpened. By day, the trolls sleep in the 
  recesses of their lairs, awakening with the setting 
  of the sun. With the fall of night, they lurk in the 
  mouths of their caverns, and their quills begin 
  to pulse with an otherworldly glow, catching 
  the eye of animals or careless travelers. 
  The mesmerizing patterns of luminescence 
  eventually overcome the instincts of the 
  entranced victim, which approaches heedless 
  of instinct or judgment, only to be caught 
  and consumed alive. This horrific fate 
  is almost certainly one of the truths 
  behind cautionary folk tales that 
  stress the dangers of following 
  strange lights in the woods.
  Trollkin 
  consider 
  night 
  trolls 
  valuable beasts of war despite the fact 
  that their habits and hunting preferences 
  can be problematic. Being nocturnal, these 
  Wandering this country you see some strange sights, but a grown man stumbling senseless toward a 
  night troll’s light is a hell of a thing.
  —Alten Ashley
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WICKED CLAW
   
  4 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  3 
  ThREShOlD 
  9 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  4 
  MEDiuM bASE
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  1
  2
  3
  4
  niGHt troll
  trollblood light warbeast
   5 
  8 
  5 
  4 
  12 15 
  6
  NIGHT TROLL 
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off 
  beguile 
  1 
  self 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  This model gains Allure for one round. (Living enemy non-
  warlock, non-warcaster models that begin their activation 
  within 5˝ of a model with Allure can advance only toward the 
  nearest enemy model with Allure.) 
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WICKED CLAW
   
  4 
  12
  l
  R
  
  59
  leader & grunts 
   Fearless
   Tough
  Battle-Driven – When 
  a model in this unit is 
  damaged by an enemy 
  attack, after the attack is 
  resolved models in this 
  unit gain +2 STR and 
  ARM and Pathfinder 
   
  for one round. 
  battle weapon 
   Reach
   Weapon Master
  Those who would kill or enslave the trollkin would do 
  well to fear those called warders. Champions of the kriels, 
  these staunch warriors are honored and dedicated in 
  somber ritual to the defense of not just their chieftains and 
  shamans, but also the old and infirm, the young and weak, 
  the kith and kin least able defend themselves. Warders 
  share a bond of purpose and will leave no comrade behind: 
  to injure one of their number is to invoke the rage of the 
  entire band.
  Craving valor as they do, not all champions possess the 
  restraint necessary to become warders. Those who see 
  a greater honor in holding fast against a charging enemy 
  embrace the role with enthusiasm and vehemence. 
  Likeminded warriors band together in a great ceremony, 
  swearing oaths both to those they would defend and to one 
  another as they share their minds and souls in the ancient 
  bond of kulgat.
  Death in battle brings honor, but it is an even greater privilege to give your life  
  defending kith and kin.
  —Warder Jorn Felledtree
   4 
  7 
  7 
  4 
  12 17 
  9
  LEADER & GRUNTS
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BATTLE WEAPON
   
  3 
  10
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  DAMAGE 
  8 EACh 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  lEADER & 2 GRuNTS 
  5 
  lEADER & 4 GRuNTS 
  8 
  MEDiuM bASE
  trollkin Warders
  trollblood unit
  When warders take up defensive arms, they do so with 
  zealous fervor. Shouting the words of their oath and the 
  battle cries of their kriels, they challenge any who would 
  dare harm the more vulnerable kin, their honored patron, 
  or their brothers in arms.
  
  60
   Tough
  sorCerer 
  adjunct [Trollkin unit] –  
  Before the start of the 
  game, choose one friendly 
  Trollkin unit to be this 
  model’s client. This model 
  cannot have the same 
  client as another Adjunct. 
  If this model’s client unit 
  has Advance Deployment, 
  this model gains Advance Deployment 
  . 
  Battle Wizard – Once per turn, when this model destroys one or 
  more enemy models with a melee attack during its activation, 
  immediately after the attack is resolved it can make one Magic 
  Ability special attack or special action. 
  Magic ability [6]
  • arcane antidote (Haction) – RNG 5. Target this 
  model or this model’s client model/unit. If 
  the target is in range, enemy upkeep spells 
  on the target immediately expire.  
  • Ice Bolt (Hattack) – Ice Bolt is a RNG 10 
  magic attack. A model hit suffers a 
  POW 12 cold damage roll 
  . On 
  a critical hit, the model hit becomes 
  stationary for one round unless it has 
  Immunity: Cold 
  . 
  • Winter Storm (Haction) – Enemy models that 
  begin their activation in this model’s command 
  range lose Eyeless Sight, Flight, and Pathfinder 
  during their activations. Winter Storm lasts for 
  one round. 
  rune axe 
   Magical Weapon
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  aDjuncT – All models in the unit must be Trollkin models. 
  Magic abiliTy – Performing a Magic Ability special action or 
  special attack counts as casting a spell. 
  The sorcerers of the trollkin are not timid 
  lore-masters but determined and lethal 
  combatants as fearless as any warriors among 
  the kin. Roused to battle, they assist their 
  brothers by wielding their prodigious arcane 
  abilities with deadly skill. They march forth 
  alongside many military bands, protecting 
  them from the curses of enemy arcanists and 
  prepared to fight other occultists spell-for-
  spell with their own elemental powers. 
  Most trollkin sorcerers are recognized as 
  such at birth, born as they typically are with the 
  white skin and red eyes of albinos. Shamans of 
  the kin believe Dhunia herself marks sorcerers 
  with these traits that their people might raise 
  them with the strength of character necessary 
  Dhunia blesses some of us with strength of body, some of us with strength of mind, and blesses all 
  when we set those strengths together.
  —Grissel Bloodsong, Marshal of the Kriels
   5 
  6 
  5 
  4 
  12 14 
  8
  SORCERER
   
  POW 
  P+S
  RUNE AxE
   
  4 
  10
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2
  POiNT COST 
  1
  MEDiuM bASE
  trollkin sorcerer 
  trollblood solo
  to wield such fearsome power responsibly. Though 
  most trollkin sorcerers enjoy some instruction from 
  their elders, the powers at their command are ultimately 
  derived from within and are typically associated with 
  elements prevalent in the region of their birth. Many 
  find themselves commanding the cold winds of winter, 
  a powerful weapon that can be used to attack or defend, 
  just as the storms of winter may kill or confound.
  
  61
  kithkar 
   commander
   Tough
  Hard – This model does 
  not suffer damage or effects 
  from impact attacks or 
  collateral damage. 
  Righteous Vengeance – 
  If one or more friendly 
  Faction warrior models 
  were destroyed or removed 
  from play by enemy 
  attacks while within 5˝ of 
  this model during your opponent’s last turn, after resolving 
  continuous effects during your Maintenance Phase, this model 
  can make a full advance followed by one normal melee attack. 
  Tactician [Fennblade] – While in this model’s command range, 
  friendly Fennblade models ignore other friendly Fennblade 
  models when determining LOS. Friendly Fennblade models 
  can advance through other friendly Fennblade models in this 
  model’s command range without effect if they have enough 
  movement to move completely past them. 
  Unyielding – While engaging an enemy model, this model 
  gains +2 ARM. 
  battle weapons 
   Reach
  TacTIcaL TIP
  TacTician – This includes this model.
  Veterans of countless battles, Fennblade kithkar are warriors 
  of renown. Each has led his brothers in arms time and 
  again against any who would infringe upon trollkin lands 
  or harass their people. More than heroes or champions, 
  these vaunted leaders are brilliant battlefield commanders 
  There is no joy left for me in battle, just the balance of lives lost and those yet unavenged.
  —Fennblade Hurik Strongarm
   6 
  8 
  7 
  4 
  12 15 
  9
  KITHKAR
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BATTLE WEAPONS
   
  5 
  13
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  capable of coordinating the maneuvers of their 
  fellow Fennblades with great precision. A band of 
  Fennblades commanded by such a kithkar fights with the 
  discipline and coordination of thoroughly trained soldiers 
  and with the heart and spirit of legendary warriors. 
  Even with his remarkable leadership abilities, it is the 
  kithkar’s bond with those he leads that is his most 
  powerful weapon. Most veteran kithkar have fought with 
  the same warriors for many years. He knows each warrior 
  of his band as well as he does his own family members—
  sometimes even better. After facing the elements and 
  enemies together in skirmishes, battles, and raids, the 
  kithkar can anticipate the actions of his warriors and 
  understands he can trust them with both his life and his 
  reputation at arms. In turn, the Fennblades follow their 
  kithkar’s commands without question, trusting him to 
  lead them to victory without needlessly endangering 
  their lives. Moreover, they know that should one of their 
  number fall, nothing will stand between their kithkar and 
  bloody vengeance.
  DAMAGE 
  8
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2
  POiNT COST 
  2
  MEDiuM bASE
  Fennblade kitHkar 
  trollblood trollkin solo
  
  62
  
  63
  When the last of the great marker stones was carved and 
  set, the time of destruction ended. No more would Torn 
  from Peak shatter our villages. No more would Scarred 
  Eye Sees Straight devour the forest. No more would the 
  fury of the mountain kings draw their brethren into its 
  relentless maelstrom.
  From the Wurm himself they had risen, the beating heart 
  of the mountain, with the fire of the earth burning in their 
  bellies. Too much a part of the world to see the creatures in 
  it, the mountain kings did not recognize the trollkin as kin, 
  for they were blinded to all but their hunger and the hunt.
  Our chiefs were proud and saw the kin indomitable within 
  the forests and spreading across the land. We had prospered, 
  multiplied, carved hollows into the mountains for our kriels. 
  With each generation we ventured deeper into the once-
  forbidden places, ignoring the dangers the oldest among us 
  had heard sung of at village fires in our youth.
  The chiefs looked upon the ruins of their people and 
  knew their own folly. The mountain kings were not kith 
  to the trollkin. Their Devourer’s blood could not be 
  cooled by the gentle breath of Dhunia. To venture into 
  their territory had been madness. 
  The shamans that had spent themselves to bind the walking 
  hunger prayed. They looked to the stones they had set 
  and asked Dhunia to hold fast the kings that were not her 
  children, to soothe their slumber and strengthen the chains 
  that bound them. The ground trembled still, even as the 
  stomachs of the mountain kings shouted to be filled. 
  Until the end of days the mountain kings will hunger. 
  They dream of the feasting they once did and will do 
  again. They would devour all—even Caen, the flesh of 
  Dhunia. Like their hunger, they will not end. 
  We must not forget. To awaken them once more would be 
  disaster. Let our kriels settle far from their mountain beds 
  and no more disturb their slumber. Let them rest as they 
  can in Dhunia’s care, deep within the earth.
  mountain kinG
  an exCerpt froM the 
  final segMents of the 
  trollblood Myth-CyCle 
  of the Mountain kings
  
  64
  h
  Mountain king 
   Terror
  Kill Shot – Once per 
  activation, when a living 
  enemy model is destroyed 
  or removed from play as 
  a result of a melee attack 
  made by this model during 
  its activation, immediately 
  after that attack is resolved 
  this model can make one 
  normal ranged attack 
  ignoring ROF. 
  Snacking – When this 
  model boxes a living model 
  with a melee attack, this 
  model can heal d3 damage 
  points. If this model 
  heals, the boxed model is 
  removed from play. 
  Whelp Shedding – When this model suffers damage from an 
  enemy attack anytime except during its activation, immediately 
  after the attack has been resolved you can place a Troll Whelp 
  model into play B2B with this model if there is enough room for 
  the Whelp’s base.  
  big Meaty fist 
   Open Fist
  plenty for the trollkin throughout the forests and plains of 
  Caen. Those trollkin respected and feared their full-blood 
  troll cousins and kept their distance from the greatest 
  among them, the mountain kings, already ancient in those 
  nearly forgotten days. 
  The stories say the destructive and terrible mountain kings 
  were the first trolls to emerge from the stony ground, given 
  life by the harsh joining of Dhunia and the Devourer Wurm. 
  They kept largely to the remote mountain ranges, far from 
  where the trollkin communities first appeared. In time, 
  however, trollkin populations began to spread and intrude 
  upon the territory they had claimed.
  The encroaching trollkin enraged the mountain kings 
  beyond all consideration. The primal brutes incited one 
  another with furious howls that echoed across the mountain 
  chains, and even those in remote regions came forth to 
  slaughter. Like emissaries of the Wurm, the mountain kings 
  smashed and devoured all in their path, their blinding 
  hunger overcoming any sense of kinship with other 
  trollblood species. Trollkin myth suggests the Gnarls and 
  the Thornwood were part of a single, uninterrupted forest 
  until mountain kings stripped the region between them 
  bare of every animal, stone, and tree.
  As the terror they had unwittingly provoked continued, 
  the trollkin saw that in time the great trolls would devour 
  not only their people but also the entirety of the world 
  itself. An ancient epic describes a gathering of great 
  trollkin chieftains, warriors, and shamans who sought to 
  subdue the mountain kings. They ultimately succeeded, 
  though the specific means they employed are poorly 
  recorded and even less understood. What is known is that 
  somehow the shamans of the kin discovered a way to forge 
  chains infused with spiritual energies that could restrain 
  the great beasts, and the trollkin entombed their enormous 
  To look upon a mountain king is to see the primal 
  essence of the troll: hunger, rage, and the strength of 
  nature. Set loose upon the world, these great beasts 
  shake the ground with their tread and sunder granite 
  with their roars. Mountain kings, which seek to satisfy 
  an incomprehensible appetite, walk Caen again after 
  millennia of quiescence.
  Trollkin legend describes mountain kings with fearful 
  reverence. Such tales, which originated long before the age 
  of the Molgur and the mastery of runes, speak of a time of 
  mountain kinG 
  trollblood gargantuan
  Our legends hunger.
  —Hoarluk Doomshaper
   5 15 
  5 
  5 
  9 
  19 
  4
  MOUNTAIN KING
  DEATHLy ROAR
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   SP 10 1 
  — 
  16
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BIG MEATy FIST
   
  4 
  19
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  5 
  ThREShOlD 
  6 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  POiNT COST 
  20 
  huGE bASE
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  aMuck – This includes power attacks. Amuck does not boost 
  the attack rolls of chain attacks that duplicate the effects of 
  special attacks. 
  snacking – Because the boxed model is removed from play before 
  being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token. 
  whelP sheDDing – You do not pay points for these Troll Whelps. 
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off 
  aMuCk 
  1 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  When target friendly warbeast makes a special attack, its attack 
  rolls are boosted. Amuck lasts for one turn.  
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  3
  4
  1
  2
  l
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BIG MEATy FIST
   
  4 
  19
  R
  
  65
  cousins within the mountain peaks from which they had 
  come. Many trollkin died to bring the mountain kings to 
  those rage-filled barrows, which were marked with great 
  rune-inscribed stones warning against future disturbance.
  At first, the mountain kings stormed beneath the earth, 
  consuming stones in their hunger and causing the earth to 
  quake as they strove to snap the chains that bound them. 
  They eventually fell into a restless torpor, their turbulent 
  dreams filled with images of hunting and feeding. When 
  they stirred in their sleep, avalanches and mudslides 
  plagued the slopes above them. For these ageless beings, 
  sleep was the only escape from the gnawing emptiness of 
  their hollow stomachs.
  As ages passed, the mountain kings slowly faded into 
  the mists of myth; few trollkin even dreamed they 
  still lay in chains underground. The existence of the 
  great beasts wasn’t proven until Madrak Ironhide and 
  Hoarluk Doomshaper, pressed to desperation, set out 
  to harness their tremendous might. At no small cost, 
  the two succeeded in their unbelievable—and perhaps 
  unthinkable—quest to bring the first reawakened 
  mountain kings down from the Wyrmwall Mountains, 
  eager to satisfy their undiminished hunger for the first 
  time in thousands of years. 
  While Doomshaper speaks of other mountain kings still to 
  be freed, the trollkin strive to control those they have already 
  awakened. The ravenous beasts make little distinction 
  between friend and foe, and even the greatest shamans 
  must take care in their presence, using the enchanted chains 
  that still dangle from their hulking bodies to forestall their 
  hunger between battles. They are truly primeval creatures, 
  so closely connected to the essence of creation that their 
  very tissue continually spawns small whelps, which they 
  ignore until hunger calls.
  A mountain king evokes terror in all who behold it. It lopes 
  forward to fill its fathomless belly—an urge that grows 
  even stronger when the creature becomes injured. Uneasy 
  trollkin watching such staggering rampages must wonder 
  at the price paid to ensure the survival of their people.
  
  66
  CirCle orboros
  The Thornwood, Near Deep Gulch
  dragon’s iMperative
  “They will reach Deep Gulch within the hour,” Krueger 
  said after hearing from the wayfarers he had sent to find 
  the enemy. They had isolated the forward column of the 
  forces of the Legion of Everblight that were advancing 
  even now to intercept the Cryxians led by Lich Lord 
  Venethrax, hungry for the athanc he had recovered. As 
  promised, Krueger had taken charge of the Circle army 
  they had rushed into the region, taking advantage of the 
  nearest major node in the ley line network to bring as many 
  forces as they could muster. Those were only a fraction of 
  their combined might, though, particularly with Kromac 
  and his Tharn absent.
  Krueger had gathered Morvahna, Grayle, and the leaders 
  of his forces, including his blackclad overseers and Lord 
  Morraig together with his wolf chieftains, to give them their 
  orders. Morvahna’s skirovik mountain goat still seemed 
  wary amid the numerous wolves, so she had situated 
  herself on the opposite side of the group. They were within 
  the Thornwood, southeast of where the enemy advanced 
  and some twenty miles north of the diminished Cryxian 
  column. “I will lead the main force from the south and 
  attack first. Morvahna, your forces will converge on them 
  from behind. Grayle, support Morvahna and prioritize 
  eliminating enemy leaders.”
  Standing next to her mount, the Dawnshadow listened 
  with narrowed eyes. When the creature shook its head 
  and stepped to the left, she realized her mood had 
  affected it and reached out to calm it. While she had 
  sworn to leave command to the Stormlord, she found 
  it difficult to restrain her instinct to take charge. The 
  ley lines in this region had been severely drained by 
  Baldur’s ritual to drive Cryx from their tunnels and 
  could not be used to send Krueger’s entire army into 
  the region. Reinforcements would arrive as quickly as 
  the overworked stone keepers could expedite them. She 
  said, “The Legion forces are stretched out, but more will 
  reinforce from the north. We should wait until we are 
  stronger and attack closer to Lich Lord Venethrax.” 
  “No,” Krueger said vehemently. “We can’t risk drawing 
  Cryx into the conflict. Besides, this is the only accessible 
  passage through this part of the forest. We can nullify their 
  numerical advantage utilizing the terrain.”
  Morvahna retained apprehensions. “What will it serve us 
  to expend our strength now if Legion reinforcements strike 
  when we are depleted?”
  Krueger faced her more squarely, his features stern. She 
  knew recent events were fresh in his mind. He said, “We 
  must hit this advance force hard and make them turn back. 
  This will give us time to gather additional numbers. There 
  is no better time or place. You enlisted me to this fight, now 
  heed me. Get your people ready.”
  While she had to restrain herself from being goaded by his 
  tone, Morvahna could see his point. It was true they had to 
  prevent the Legion from reaching Venethrax; whatever their 
  numbers, they had to make the attempt. Strangely, they 
  were best served by protecting Cryx—for now. Perhaps 
  later they would discover a way to deprive both dragon 
  armies of the athanc. 
  The Circle had learned in their recent struggles how difficult 
  it was to ambush the Legion of Everblight. The Nyss had 
  been superlative hunters even before the blighting, which 
  had only augmented those abilities. The dragonspawn were 
  an even greater problem. Though eyeless, they possessed 
  unusual senses that enabled them to perceive living things 
  behind trees and undergrowth. Accordingly, Morvahna 
  had her people move along the top of the gorge, careful 
  not to betray their presence. One of Grayle’s griffons flew 
  high overhead, giving them a vantage from above, where 
  the thick canopy of the Thornwood allowed. Her mounted 
  Tharn and Wolves were skilled at remaining unseen and 
  unheard, communicating through gestured signals. The 
  Tharn were capably led by Nuala the Huntress, with whom 
  Morvahna had a longstanding alliance. 
  
  67
  They maintained their position above the gorge as a long 
  line of Legion warriors stretched past below. The breeze 
  carried no noise to betray either the hunted or their hunters, 
  creating an eerie suspense, and Morvahna’s group was 
  tense. Grayle was alert beside her, his head lifted as his 
  mind focused on the griffon above. He whispered, “Most 
  are past. Only the stragglers remain. Strike?”
  “Not yet,” Morvahna said. The wayfarers said the Legion 
  forces were spread out as they travelled overland, which 
  was consistent with what she had observed. Still there 
  was something peculiar about the composition of this 
  vanguard that made her think she had not yet seen the 
  entire advance force. 
  Her awareness extended into the forest around them, 
  through the trees and other living things within this 
  ancient forest. Communing with them was more difficult 
  than it had once been, as the Thornwood had seen much 
  bloodshed and horror, scarring all living things here. 
  The blight left a distinct imprint, and those who led 
  Everblight’s Legion were beacons of malevolent energy. 
  She sensed that one of these warlocks had gone by, but 
  another approached from the north.
  Grayle’s posture stiffened as they heard the faint sound 
  of battle. Just south of their position, Krueger’s army had 
  clearly met the Legion forces at the head of the line. The 
  clash of weapons and the shouts of the embattled were 
  muffled and barely disrupted the solitude where she and 
  Grayle lay in wait. Long minutes passed.
  The Farstrider stared at Morvahna intensely, awaiting her 
  order, but she did not speak. Few druids had senses like 
  hers, so attuned to the forces of life and death—trying to 
  explain would have been akin to describing sight to the 
  blind. She saw him blink and look up again, as his griffon 
  finally spotted additional enemies.
  “More are coming,” she said to him, even as he opened his 
  mouth to tell her. She smiled knowingly. Morvahna’s pulse 
  quickened with a familiar blend of excitement and dread 
  as conflict loomed. “After they move past, then we strike.”
  Krueger’s forces had been assigned the unenviable task 
  of feigning a frontal assault to distract the Legion from 
  Morvahna’s ambush. He still intended to spend the lives of 
  his soldiers as frugally as possible. This was a battle not of 
  his choosing and he had plans for this army. Above all else, 
  he must end this battle strong, still a power the omnipotents 
  could not ignore.
  He had spread his Wolves in staggered lines with 
  instructions to fall back toward the others after briefly 
  engaging the enemy. If executed properly this would 
  give the appearance of a rout, and if the Nyss pursued, it 
  would further stretch them out. The Legion had shown a 
  preference for reckless aggression. 
  As soon as the Legion neared, the forward lines of Wolves 
  sprang into action in scattered groups, engaging fiercely 
  and then withdrawing. They suffered as expert swordsmen 
  closed with deadly strikes. Krueger watched Morraig on his 
  wolf shouting orders before engaging personally. The great 
  mount tore out a Nyss throat while Morraig’s blade cut 
  down those nearest him. Others closed and he leapt away as 
  reeves fired crossbows into the midst of the Nyss before also 
  falling back. It looked as though they were giving ground, 
  yet it was all according to plan.
  The bottom of the gorge was less forested but was 
  choked with undergrowth and broken up by fallen rocks 
  and stones along a shallow stream. The Wolves used 
  the terrain, forcing the blighted swordsmen to stumble 
  across uneven ground as reeves behind them placed their 
  shots. There was a steady thrum as crossbows withered 
  the enemy’s advance.
  Krueger could see the blighted Nyss were masterful with 
  their long blades. Each swordsman fought as though every 
  swing of the blade was a pleasure he would not be denied. 
  When they closed, their blades cut straight through spear 
  shafts, bronze armor, and thick leathers to bite flesh and 
  draw blood. The groans of the injured and dying sounded 
  all along the battle line. Those slain were left behind.
  At the vanguard of the Legion army he caught sight of the 
  woman who led them. She wore nothing to signify rank, but 
  a cordon of dragonspawn betrayed her importance. Ahead of 
  her was one of the hulking carniveans, bringing destruction 
  by claw, fang, and the blaze of incendiary breath. Flanking 
  it were a number of nephilim, the nearest wielding heavy 
  halberds and adorned in plated metal armor. Others were 
  armed with great swords or bolt throwers. Small shredders 
  ran amid the blighted Nyss, leaping upon enemies to tear 
  them apart with voracious jaws. 
  The Stormlord took to the air, the winds sweeping him 
  upward. He flew toward the enemy with his weapon 
  Wurmtongue in hand, directing lightning to strike 
  amid the Nyss. Storm winds howled around him and 
  by his will electricity erupted to confound the enemy, 
  eaCh swordsMan fought 
  as though every swing of 
  the blade was a pleasure he 
  would not be denied . 
  
  68
  consuming them with thunderous eruptions before they 
  could charge his Wolves. Those of his wolds he had 
  been willing to commit advanced. Subordinate druids 
  just behind the Wolves summoned their power. At their 
  command, the earth opened to swallow entire ranks of 
  swordsmen and chunks of stone rose from the ground 
  to shatter skulls and crush ribs. He let himself savor the 
  destruction of the foe.
  Even as he joined the fray he could hear Morvahna’s force 
  converging on the enemy’s rear so they were beset on both 
  sides. Krueger’s blood froze as he felt a strange familiar 
  sensation, a wavering in the natural flows of energy 
  through which he drew his power. It was akin to ripples 
  caused by the proximity of Everblight’s generals but came 
  from behind. Thinking he was being flanked he turned 
  and peered in that direction and at last noticed a familiar 
  figure atop the edge of the gorge, attired in flowing robes, 
  his rotted hands clasping a long, slender staff of wood. 
  It was Blighterghast’s emissary. “Not now,” he said. He 
  should have known the dragon would choose the most 
  inconvenient time to interfere. The figure raised one hand 
  and pointed imperiously behind him. 
  Krueger darted to the left to evade an incoming bolt from 
  a nephilim’s crossbow and directed one of his wolds to 
  engage the beast. When he looked back the emissary 
  was gone. He snarled in frustration—he knew he could 
  not ignore the summons, even to conclude this battle. 
  The mind of the dragon was impossible to predict, and 
  he could not afford to have Blighterghast think he was 
  reneging on their agreement. All the Stormlord’s plans 
  hinged on that pact.
  After unleashing one last blast of lightning to sear the hide of 
  the nearest nephilim, he turned and flew back from the main 
  battle line. He summoned his senior officers, including the 
  blood-drenched Morraig, and gave them their orders. They 
  would remain to continue the fight, answering to Morvahna. 
  Krueger would return if he could, but they would likely need 
  to conclude the battle without him. Their faces expressed 
  doubts, but none they were willing to risk voicing, and 
  Krueger had no intention of elaborating. He took to the air 
  once more, flying in the direction indicated by the emissary, 
  wondering what his promises to the dragon would cost him.
  Morvahna did not need the report from the wayfarer. She 
  had watched from afar as the Stormlord joined battle. She 
  had detected the blighted figure standing on the fringes, 
  and shortly thereafter Krueger had sped away. “He left,” she 
  said. Rage simmered, but she did not betray it outwardly.
  “He bid me bring word that he has been called away on 
  an unavoidable matter,” the cowled wayfarer said, his 
  tone strained by relaying unwelcome news. “He said the 
  authority over those who remain is passed to you. Before he 
  left, he identified the leader of the Legion vanguard. I can 
  guide you to her.”
  She called to Grayle, who had just finished off the nearest 
  nephilim, and said, “Go with the wayfarer. Strike down the 
  Legion warlock he reveals to you. I will deal with the one 
  leading the rearguard. Move swiftly.” She knew that without 
  Everblight’s leading agents, the remaining rank and file 
  would lack the conviction to press on and engage Cryx.
  Grayle nodded curtly and sprang into motion. His 
  warpwolves were as eager for battle as he, and one growled 
  in its throat as they followed him into the deeper trees along 
  the side of the gorge. They would work their way around 
  the enemy column to strike at its head. 
  Morvahna returned to the battle while she considered the 
  enormity of Krueger abandoning her in the middle of the 
  battle. His timing was suspicious, departing just as she 
  had committed her forces in full. Yet it seemed impossible 
  he would have chosen to do this without some external 
  compulsion; he had too much to gain by leading them to 
  victory here and too much to lose by abandoning the field. 
  His followers would see this as weakness. She considered 
  the blighted figure that had precipitated his vanishing. 
  She thought back to his trial, in which his loyalty had been 
  questioned after he had disobeyed the omnipotents and 
  spoken with Blighterghast. It could be no coincidence. 
  She was forced to conclude that the figure she had seen 
  was sent by the dragon and Krueger pulled away to do its 
  bidding. Toward what end, she could not imagine. Clearly 
  the Stormlord was at the creature’s beck and call. How the 
  mighty had fallen.
  She unleashed her simmering rage on the enemy around 
  her through her spells, causing tremendous eruptions of 
  rending power to blast apart several of the nearest archers 
  and grotesques. She turned to see several Tharn wolf riders 
  brought down by concentrated arrow fire. The Legion 
  rearguard included a dizzying array of flying creatures, 
  both dragonspawn and grotesques, affording them 
  tremendous mobility. She took a moment to summon a veil 
  of fog to enshroud her nearest allies, making them difficult 
  he should have known the 
  dragon would Choose the 
  Most inConvenient tiMe to 
  interfere .
  
  69
  to see and providing obfuscation from the hail of arrows. 
  Her mount pawed the ground impatiently, eager to charge 
  into the fray, but she kept it restrained, having no intention 
  of risking herself prematurely.
  Her pureblood let loose an ear-rending howl and sent 
  a shockwave of unnatural energies to rend a number of 
  blighted archers and grotesques while others were pierced 
  by hurled javelins. Morvahna closed her eyes and let her 
  power flow outward. Great bleeding gashes appeared along 
  her body and she allowed the blood to flow, drawing on her 
  own life energy to unsettle the scales of fate. Javelins that 
  might have gone astray found their mark, a spear strike that 
  might have been a shallow wound became a killing thrust. 
  Even as these wounds began to sap her strength, several of 
  her warriors fell to enemy arrows. She gathered the vitality 
  spilling from them to close her wounds. It was a cycle of 
  living energy that was intuitive for her to direct, requiring 
  little more thought than breathing.
  Morvahna extended her senses through the trees, trying to 
  gain a larger perspective on the ever-changing disposition 
  of both allied and enemy forces. Several of her gallows trees 
  shifted at the limits of her mental reach to serve as extensions 
  for her power. She observed the Legion moving as if of one 
  mind and guided their reactions as though flowing outward 
  from a central point like ripples in a pond. At the center she 
  spotted a female Nyss in dark leathers with a short dagger 
  in each hand. Here was one of the two primary sources of 
  blighted energy. Across the distance their eyes locked. The 
  Nyss reacted by directing a host of flying dragonspawn to 
  peel off and fly toward Morvahna’s position.
  Even as Morvahna sent her beasts and wolds to meet the 
  incoming dragonspawn, Grayle was directed to his target 
  by the wayfarer. The Farstrider had made his way through 
  the intervening trees to take his foe unaware. A number 
  of blighted swordsmen advanced alongside her, fighting 
  well despite being engaged from all sides. More corpses 
  of Wolves littered the leaves than those of the blighted. A 
  group of more heavily armored legionnaires followed the 
  warlock, their long blades ready, expertly striking down 
  any Wolves that closed.
  He ignored them to focus on the woman singled out by the 
  wayfarer. He took in every motion of her sword, knowing 
  its edge would soon be directed at him. Grayle could tell 
  she was the sort who fought by fueling herself with blood 
  lust. Her skill was formidable, and he felt his anger rise as 
  she cut through one Wolf after another. None who fought 
  under Lord Morraig today were his immediate kinsmen, 
  but they were his brothers and sisters nonetheless. 
  Grayle and his warpwolves emerged from the trees and sped 
  toward the warlock. The ferals crashed into the warlock’s 
  nephilim protectors, tearing deep gashes through armor and 
  dragon hide, while his stalkers hacked into the carnivean 
  with their long blades. Feeling the thrill of the hunt he 
  slipped between several intervening Nyss swordsmen, his 
  blades a blur as he thrust and cut, stepping around them as 
  they fell. He drew on the preternatural senses of his griffon 
  to give him the heightened reflexes to parry other strikes 
  directed at him as he went past. The Nyss warlock turned 
  to meet him when he was only a few yards away, just as he 
  entertained the notion that he might dispatch her before she 
  was aware of him. He called on the power of storm to fill his 
  limbs to lend himself both speed and strength. 
  Everblight did not choose his generals haphazardly. 
  Against Grayle’s hopes the Nyss warlock turned smoothly 
  to block his first strike, her eyes calm and steady. Her face 
  was partially obscured behind a dark veil that covered both 
  her mouth and nose. She stepped to the side of his second 
  thrust and delivered a blindingly fast retaliation. 
  Grayle narrowly evaded the strike and plunged inward 
  to stab at her exposed side. Once more she deflected his 
  blow, but his two blades gave him the advantage and his 
  off-handed strike slashed her, forcing her to send the injury 
  to one of her nephilim. Both their strikes were so swift 
  he could only react instinctively, falling into a familiar 
  dance. Yet after that first brief exchange he felt a surge of 
  confidence knowing he had the edge. He moved faster and 
  managed to stay inside her reach. His griffon flew down 
  like an avenging spirit to intercept a nephilim closing on 
  him from the rear. 
  For the moment each of the combatants stood isolated 
  even as the forces around them clashed. Grayle had 
  skillfully deployed the forces with him to tie up the 
  nearest Legion beasts, and the Wolves of Orboros left by 
  Krueger saw his attack and rallied at Morraig’s call to 
  lend him aid. The wolf lord charged alongside several 
  war wolves to tie up the legionnaires who otherwise 
  would have surrounded Grayle.
  His foe vaulted backward from him, deftly evading his 
  thrusts. As soon as she was out of his grasp he felt the hairs 
  along the back of his neck stand as runes surrounded her 
  form and blighted energies launched from her. He had seen 
  no evidence of her working magic, and yet he staggered 
  and gasped as his lungs seized. His breathing was labored 
  and it entirely threw off his fighting rhythm. He fell back 
  shakily as he saw a gleam of triumph in her eyes and she 
  leapt toward him with renewed conviction.
  This time he moved too slowly to block the tremendous 
  overhead blow she delivered with her razor-sharpened 
  blade. Even as Grayle felt the shock of impact he desperately 
  
  70
  sent the wound to his nearest warpwolf stalker. The beast 
  howled in pain and staggered, collapsing as his torso was 
  rent in half to spill organs onto the forest floor. Grayle could 
  still feel blood dripping from a painful slash across his chest 
  and felt a momentary surge of awed amazement that the 
  blow had been so strong. He could not afford to let her hit 
  him again, and he tumbled to the side, his lungs on fire from 
  whatever blighted magic afflicted him. 
  Morvahna was kept occupied as her forces were beset by 
  flying menaces. The spearmen defending her were battered 
  back by the heavy grotesques that descended from above. 
  With a shout she unleashed a surge of her power fueled 
  by the creatures’ own life forces to tear them limb from 
  limb, albeit too late to save several spearmen. She sent her 
  goraxes and argus to intercept a closing swarm of harriers 
  and directed her pureblood to neutralize a seraph whose 
  breath blazed amid the soldiers on her left flank, lighting 
  several of the nearest trees on fire. 
  A roiling burst of blighted power exploded from the Nyss 
  warlock as she unleashed her sorcery in several directions. 
  Morvahna’s eyes widened in admiration to see a harrier 
  surrounded by Wolves of Orboros erupt with destructive 
  energies before she had to look away, her eyes burning 
  from the warped energies. The six nearest Wolves shrieked 
  in pain as their flesh was torn from their bodies. They fell 
  to the forest floor, their exposed organs shriveling from the 
  onslaught of unnatural radiance. 
  Even more remarkable was the bond Morvahna sensed 
  between the two Legion warlocks despite the distance 
  between them. This nearest sorceress sent her power through 
  the one fighting Grayle. The flow of energies reminded 
  Morvahna of how she was able to evoke her magic through 
  a gallows grove. She remembered having seen something 
  similar to this exchange of energies once before, in the battle 
  at the Castle of the Keys when they had failed to prevent the 
  Legion from destroying Pyromalfic. She recalled two female 
  warlocks who had contributed to that battle and realized 
  she faced them again. 
  The idea had come to her then, and she felt certain now, 
  that the two possessed some occult sympathy. At the 
  time they had seemed to her eyes almost the same person 
  divided into two bodies, and she realized that they must 
  be sisters—but more, twins. It was an intuitive leap, but 
  one she felt certain was right. She had seen the wilding 
  shared between twins before and knew the strange bonds 
  shared power created. As Morvahna watched, the nearest 
  sorceress sent additional blighted energy through her 
  sister to afflict Grayle’s allies, evoking blighted explosions 
  around several nephilim. Morvahna could see she would 
  have to separate the two if Grayle were to survive. She 
  began to consider how she could turn the battle.
  Morvahna signaled for Nuala to send her reserves to 
  commit to the fight. Several Tharn blood packs advanced 
  at their leader’s call and fired their great bows into the 
  nearest dragonspawn. She had intended to preserve them 
  to help cover their retreat. Morvahna knew they had lost the 
  initiative, with losses mounting and Grayle so far unable to 
  finish the Nyss swordswoman. She signaled the reserves to 
  attack that sorceress, shouting, “Drive her back!” 
  The Tharn advanced while firing arrows and flinging 
  javelins, together with bloodtrackers and wolf riders. 
  Facing their sudden onslaught, the Nyss warlock was 
  forced to retreat up the rocky gorge to a more defensible 
  position. Her blighted archers followed, firing on the Tharn 
  that harried them.
  Pleased she had forced them to take the defensive, 
  Morvahna ignored them and impelled her mount to a full 
  gallop toward the Farstrider. It raced across the forest soil, 
  and she was quickly able to get close enough to Grayle 
  for her magic to reach him—she held her sword aloft as 
  runes circled her body and spiraled outward, unraveling 
  the blighted choking tendrils that filled Grayle’s lungs. 
  He took a deep and ragged breath and shot Morvahna a 
  grateful look before his adversary was upon him. No longer 
  hindered by her magic, he skillfully evaded her blows and 
  retaliated in kind. 
  Through a gallows grove Morvahna empowered one of 
  Grayle’s remaining stalkers. It had been injured, but now 
  its inherent regenerative powers were amplified with each 
  strike it made, and it quickly healed. Morvahna’s own 
  wounds closed as she stole vitality from several Wolves 
  who fell to dragonspawn and blighted Nyss. 
  She looked back to Grayle’s battle and saw his advantage 
  had been restored now that his breathing was back to 
  normal. He had pushed back the Nyss woman with a flurry 
  of blows. Thanks to Wolf Lord Morraig, who had focused 
  on taking down her dragonspawn, she was running out of 
  places to shunt her wounds. The exchange had been bloody 
  on both sides, though, and few of Grayle’s host remained. 
  The Circle had suffered badly, and their numbers were 
  greatly reduced. The Legion still had untapped reserves 
  in those who had been stretched out along the gorge and 
  had yet to engage. If they joined the battle, her failure was 
  practically guaranteed. She had to force the entire army 
  to retreat, yet she knew that even without a numerical 
  advantage the Legion would never flee due to fear. They 
  followed their masters to the death. Breaking them hinged 
  on defeating the twins.
  
  71
  Morvahna knew the warlock hunkered down amid the 
  rocks could see the fight between Grayle and her sister and 
  how circumstances had reversed. The Nyss was clearly on 
  the defensive, falling back as Grayle hacked skillfully at 
  her. As predicted, the sorceress came out from her sheltered 
  position, fighting to get closer to her twin. She risked enemy 
  fire, relying on agility as she rolled forward and rushed 
  ahead, invoking her magic as she went to light several 
  nearby wolf riders afire with bursts akin to dragon flame. 
  Those beasts that were left once more became fulcrums of 
  blighted energy, obliterating more of Morvahna’s soldiers. 
  As she got close enough, she was able to invoke her magic 
  through her sister once again, afflicting Grayle with a burst 
  of fire that made him stagger back.
  As the woman charged into the open, Morvahna shouted 
  orders to her remaining wolf riders to hunt her down and 
  manipulated fate to guide the arrows of the blood packs, 
  changing near-misses to direct hits. Her archers attacked the 
  nearest dragonspawn to interfere with the Nyss warlock’s 
  ability to transfer her injuries, sending several blighted 
  horrors falling from the sky. Despite the Nyss’ agility, 
  several blood pack arrows struck true, spilling her blood. 
  This distracted the swordswoman from her clash with 
  Grayle, as she saw her sister exposed and vulnerable. Both 
  were threatened with destruction, and both instinctively 
  sought to protect the other. 
  Suddenly the swordswoman sacrificed one of her nearest 
  spawn, a creature like a serpentine cat, sending it leaping 
  onto Grayle to occupy him just long enough for her to break 
  away and race toward her sister. She cut down several Tharn 
  in her way, and those blighted swordsmen and archers 
  that were left closed ranks around the wounded twins to 
  shield them from additional fire. Morvahna contemplated 
  intercepting on her mount but knew it would be fruitless. 
  A foolish charge would not convince the twins they should 
  retreat—but something else might. 
  She braced herself and then drew on her own life energy to 
  significantly augment her power, unleashing a tremendous 
  surge of natural energies even as her body erupted in 
  wounds. She ignored the agonizing pain to manifest a 
  torrent of vitality outward through the bloodied grasses 
  to reinvigorate the fallen. Many Tharn and Wolves who 
  had been bleeding out their last suddenly found the 
  strength to stand, their injuries knitted, weapons in hand 
  and ready to fight. Grayle had dispatched the barbed-
  tailed dragonspawn that had beset him and turned to face 
  the Nyss swordswoman once more. Here amid the trees 
  closest to the edge of the gorge, it suddenly appeared as 
  though the Circle army was restored and fresh, ready 
  for battle once again. In part this was an illusion, as only 
  those closest to Morvahna stood, yet amid the trees it was 
  difficult to ascertain how many had seemingly arisen from 
  the dead. Morvahna sat regally astride her mount and let 
  her power flow outward from her fingertips to obliterate 
  more blighted warriors. 
  The two Nyss warlocks were clearly unnerved. They 
  shared a look and then turned to flee north, sending their 
  remaining dragonspawn to cover their retreat. Many of the 
  Nyss soldiers were thrown into confusion. Some sought 
  to engage the arisen Circle warriors, but more turned to 
  follow their masters. It was clear this was not a part of their 
  battle plan. Grayle and Wolf Lord Morraig held the Circle 
  line. Morvahna sent her own power out to help guide their 
  attacks, feeling dizzy and weak from the blood she had 
  shed to restore so much of her army. As additional warriors 
  fell, her health slowly returned, but rarely had she risked 
  walking the knife’s edge so closely to death. The gamble 
  paid off as the front lines of the Legion collapsed. The Circle 
  was left battered but victorious, looking north toward 
  where a far larger force withdrew in defeat. 
  Ordinarily Morvahna might have encouraged the Tharn 
  to give chase and kill as many of the foe as possible before 
  they could make their escape, but her force was in tatters. 
  Grayle was badly injured and his beasts spent. It had 
  been a narrow victory, and she knew it might not last. The 
  Legion would continue its advance in the days ahead, but 
  the rest of Krueger’s army would arrive in due time and 
  stand ready to face them. Hopefully their window to reach 
  Venethrax was closed.
  Meanwhile, she intended to find Krueger himself and ask 
  a few pointed questions about his willingness to heed his 
  promises. 
  a foolish Charge would 
  not ConvinCe the twins 
  they should retreat—but 
  soMething else Might . 
  
  72
  feat: blood 
  saCrifiCe 
  To the Dawnshadow, the 
  power of life is in the blood, 
  and by her power this 
  vitality can be freely loaned 
  or borrowed. As Morvahna 
  cuts her own flesh and makes 
  an offering of her blood, her 
  fallen warriors become whole 
  to fight again. 
  Morvahna immediately 
  suffers 1 or more damage 
  points. This damage cannot 
  be transferred. For each 
  damage point she suffers, 
  return one destroyed 
  non-character living friendly Faction warrior model to play 
  completely within her control area. Place returned trooper 
  models in formation with their original units. Units cannot 
  exceed the number of models they had at the start of the game 
  as a result of Blood Sacrifice. Returned models forfeit their 
  actions the turn they return to play. 
  Morvahna 
   Pathfinder
  Imperishable conviction – When a friendly Faction model 
  in its control area is destroyed by an enemy attack, this model 
  heals 1 damage point. 
  Scales of Fate – When a friendly Faction model makes an 
  attack or damage roll during its activation while in this model’s 
  control area, this model can suffer d3 damage points to cause 
  that model to reroll that roll. Each roll can be rerolled only once 
  due to Scales of Fate. 
  equinox 
   Magical Weapon
   Reach
  Life Trader – When an attack with this weapon hits, this 
  model can suffer 1 damage point to gain an additional die on 
  the damage roll against the model hit. Life Trader can be used 
  once per attack. 
  Mount 
  Ram – When an enemy model is hit by this weapon, it is 
  knocked down and can be pushed 1˝ directly away from this 
  model. If it is pushed, this model can immediately advance 
  directly toward the pushed model up to the distance that 
  model was moved.
  Nature’s cycles are inherently contradictory, with night 
  turning to day and life to death in moments. Morvahna 
  balances upon the sharp divide between light and dark, life 
  and death, strength and weakness. She draws her strength 
  from the rhythms of the natural world and yet invokes 
  her power to cull enemies of the Circle Orboros, cutting 
  the strands of fate tying them to Caen. More than most, 
  she possesses a keen understanding of the power of blood 
  and sacrifice and can harness the most primal energies to 
  advance her agenda.
  Morvahna is counted among the most politically shrewd 
  of the Circle’s leaders, a woman who has accumulated 
  tremendous influence and power while navigating the 
  sometimes treacherous upper echelons of the organization. 
  While some of her rivals cannot see past her ambition and 
  facility at manipulation, she has bent all her considerable 
  powers and ability toward the destruction of the order’s 
  enemies, foremost among them the Legion of Everblight. 
  Her political machinations suffered a slight setback after a 
  failed attempt to eliminate her greatest rival, Krueger the 
  Stormlord, but this has only forced her to adapt and change 
  her tactics. She has seen how infighting divided the ranks 
  and only created further division and has shifted her goals 
  to restore her power base through subtler means, all while 
  coordinating strikes against an enemy that has become an 
  ever-escalating threat. While her ambition is undiminished, 
  Morvahna has felt compelled to enter into alliances she 
  might once have deemed unthinkable. 
  The Dawnshadow joins the battles of her order with renewed 
  purpose and wielding all the tremendous powers at her 
  disposal. Astride her Skirovik mountain goat, the power of 
  life in blood is hers to command, and those who follow her 
  entrust their lives to her discretion. The ebb and flow of the 
  natural order rests within Morvahna’s fingertips, and those 
  rhythms guide her toward her destiny.
  Carnivore 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yes no 
  Target friendly model/unit gains +2 to melee attack rolls against living 
  models. When an affected model boxes a living model with a melee attack, 
  the boxed model is removed from play and this model heals d3 damage 
  points. 
  death knell 
  4 
  8 
  4 
  10 
  no yes 
  Before dealing damage, count the number of models in the AOE. Add the 
  result to each Death Knell damage roll. 
  fog of war 
  3 
  self Ctrl 
  – 
  yes no 
  Models gain concealment while in this model’s control area. 
  purifiCation 
  3 
  self Ctrl 
  – 
  no no 
  Continuous effects, animi, and upkeep spells in this model’s control area 
  immediately expire. 
  sunder spirit 
  2 
  10 
  – 
  12 
  no yes 
  An enemy warbeast damaged by Sunder Spirit loses its animus for 
  one round. 
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  Morvahna the DawnshaDow 
  CirCle light Cavalry epiC warloCk
  All things move toward their end, both brightest day and darkest night.
  —Morvahna the Dawnshadow
   8 
  5 
  6 
  4 
  15 15 
  9
  MORVAHNA
   
  POW 
  P+S
  EqUINOx
   
  7 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
   
  POW
  MOUNT
   
  12
  FuRy 
  7 
  DAMAGE 
  16 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  WARbEAST POiNTS 
  +5 
  lARGE bASE
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  blooD sacrifice – Remove all damage from returned models. If all 
  models in a trooper’s unit have been destroyed, it cannot be placed 
  within 3˝ of a model in its unit and therefore cannot return to play. 
  carnivore – Because the boxed model is removed from play 
  before being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token. 
  This model, not the target model, is healed when the target model 
  boxes another model. 
  
  73
  
  Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen. There was a blur and then a dozen men cut down in a row. I thought it 
  was a cannon shot until I saw that thing circling back for another pass.
  —Steelhead Sergeant Rowf Herren
  razorwing griffon 
  CirCle light warbeast
  74
  Razorwing griffons plunge into battle with the piercing 
  shrieks of birds of prey, diving into enemy formations as 
  part of their brutal assaults. Flying just a few feet above 
  the ground, they move like threshers across a crop 
  of wheat. The griffons use their sharp-edged blades 
  to slash through ranks of infantry, leaving a bloody 
  trail of the dead and dying to mark their passage. 
  The master beast handlers of the Circle Orboros 
  spend years training these griffons before ever arming 
  them with blades. Griffons are naturally intractable 
  creatures, and those druids who train them must possess 
  the forbearance of falconers and the grit of warriors; 
  more than a few trainers bear the scars of a quarrel with 
  their beasts. Once a handler is certain of a griffon’s training, 
  he arms it with lightweight but resilient metal blades on its 
  leading feathers and gauntlets over its natural claws. The 
  final lessons are difficult, as the trainer must fight the griffon’s 
  deeply ingrained hunting instincts. The griffons naturally 
  razorwing 
  griffon 
  Blade Rush – While 
  making a trample power 
  attack, this model ignores 
  free strikes and does not 
  stop when it contacts a 
  model with a medium or 
  larger base, an obstacle, or 
  an obstruction. This model 
  makes trample attacks 
  against models regardless 
  of their base size. 
  Flight – This model can 
  advance through terrain 
  and obstacles without 
  penalty and can advance 
  through obstructions 
  and other models if it 
  has enough movement 
  to move completely past 
  them. This model ignores 
  intervening models when 
  declaring its charge target. 
  Power attack Trample –  
  This model can make 
  trample power attacks. 
  Claw blades 
   Open Fist
   
  wing blades 
  Threshing Blades – This model can add this weapon’s 
  POW to its trample power attack damage rolls.
   6 
  8 
  6 
  1 
  14 15 
  6
  RAzORWING GRIFFON
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  3
  ThREShOlD 
  8 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  5 
  MEDiuM bASE
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  1
  2
  3
  4
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  aMuck – This includes power attacks. Amuck does not boost 
  the attack rolls of chain attacks that duplicate the effects of 
  special attacks.
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  aMuCk 
  1 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  When target friendly warbeast makes a special attack, its attack 
  rolls are boosted. Amuck lasts for one turn.
  want to dive upon their prey and lift it aloft—not sweep low 
  along the ground scything with their wings before ascending 
  to begin a new attack. As part of their training, razorwings 
  come to expect a freshly killed reward after each battle: the 
  more foes they cut down, the better they will feed from the 
  hands of their masters.
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WING BLADES
   
  4 
  12
   
  POW 
  P+S
  CLAW BLADES
   
  4 
  12
  l
   
  POW 
  P+S
  CLAW BLADES
   
  4 
  12
  R
  
  h
  Rip horn satyrs are intimidating beasts with a vicious 
  temperament. They show more cunning than other satyrs but 
  are every bit as fierce, smashing into their enemies, pushing 
  them back, and breaking their lines and formations. The 
  distance closed, the satyrs slash brutally with their bladed 
  It’s bad enough when goats try to butt you off the side of a mountain—these damn things  
  will pick you up and throw you.
  —Alten Ashley
   6 12 
  6 
  3 
  12 19 
  7
  SATyR
   
  POW 
  P+S
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BLADED GAUNTLET
  HORNS
   
  4 
  16
   
  4 
  16
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  gauntlets at any foe still standing, heaving aside 
  any that somehow survived their punishing 
  initial assault.
  Relatively few herds of rip horns roam the 
  wilds compared to the other breeds of satyr 
  the druids of the Circle Orboros maintain. 
  Wild rip horns are notable for being one 
  of the few varieties to use simple tools and 
  build structures, however crude. The druids 
  consider rip horns highly intelligent by the 
  standards of the species, so it was only natural 
  they take a deep interest in the herds. 
  Rip horns selected to accompany druids in war 
  receive simple bladed gauntlets and are taught to 
  use them in lieu of the brute force that most of their kind 
  prefer. Even with their natural disposition to learning, the 
  stubborn and belligerent satyrs do not always take well to 
  training. The druids are careful not to breed out those traits 
  altogether, however, as they value beasts that are not only 
  cunning but also capable of being stirred to violence for 
  their cause.
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off 
  irresistible forCe 
  2 
  self 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  This model gains Bulldoze for one turn. (When a model with 
  Bulldoze advances into B2B contact with an enemy model 
  during its activation, it can push that model up to 2˝ directly 
  away from it. A model can be pushed by Bulldoze only once 
  per activation. Bulldoze has no effect when this model makes a 
  trample power attack.)
  FuRy 
  4
  ThREShOlD 
  9 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  9 
  lARGE bASE
  rip horn satyr
  CirCle heavy warbeast
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  1
  2
  3
  4
  l
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BLADED GAUNTLET
   
  4 
  16
  R
  75
  satyr 
  aggressive – This model 
  can run or charge without 
  spending focus or being 
  forced. 
  horns 
  Hard Head – This model 
  can add this weapon’s 
  POW to its head-butt 
  and slam power attack 
  damage rolls. 
  bladed gauntlet 
   Open Fist
  chain attack: Grab & 
  Smash – If this model hits 
  the same model with both 
  its initial attacks with this 
  weapon, after resolving the 
  attacks it can immediately 
  make a double-hand throw, 
  head-butt, headlock/
  weapon lock, push, or 
  throw power attack against 
  that target. 
  
  76
  leader & grunts 
   Fearless
   Pathfinder
  assault & Battery (Order) –  
  Before their normal 
  movement, affected models 
  can make one ranged 
  attack. During their normal 
  movement, affected models 
  must charge or run. The 
  ranged attack is made before 
  declaring a charge target. 
  Heart Eater – This model 
  gains a corpse token each 
  time it destroys a living 
  enemy model with a melee 
  attack. This model can 
  have up to three corpse tokens at a time. It can spend corpse 
  tokens during its activation to boost an attack or damage roll 
  or to make an additional melee attack at one token per boost or 
  additional attack. 
  Treewalker – This model ignores forests when determining LOS. 
  While in a forest, this model gains +2 DEF against melee attack 
  rolls and can advance through obstructions and other models if it 
  has enough movement to move completely past them. 
  Blood packs count among their number some of the cruelest 
  warriors of the Tharn. Ranging far ahead of a main body 
  of attackers, they move through the densest thickets with 
  speed and agility surprising for such hulking warriors. A 
  blood pack falls upon enemy sentries before taking aim 
  with bows too massive for any without the strength of 
  a Tharn to pull. Targets sighted, they loose arrows that 
  could be mistaken for small javelins—projectiles capable 
  of piercing even heavy armor. Blood packs choose their 
  victims with silent coordination, and as one of them fells 
  his mark, his brothers charge forward to take advantage of 
  new opportunities for slaughter.
  Like all Tharn, blood packs venerate the Devourer Wurm. 
  Their hunts are more than simple tests of strength and skill: 
  they are sacrifices in the name of the Beast of All Shapes. 
  Blood packs engage in ritual bloodshed among their own 
  before battle, chanting oaths that dedicate the blood they 
  will spill and the pain they will inflict to the Wurm’s honor. 
  Relishing the opportunity to evoke fear in their victims’ 
  eyes, they take sadistic pleasure in their bloody craft, 
  striding toward their prey like butchers choosing victims 
  from among frightened cattle.
  It matters not how the blood of prey is shed, so long as it runs in profusion.
  —Kromac the Ravenous
   6 
  8 
  7 
  6 
  13 14 
  8
  LEADER & GRUNTS
  THARN BOW
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   12 
  1 
  — 
  13
   
  POW 
  P+S
  HUNTER’S BLADE
   
  3 
  11
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  DAMAGE 
  8 EACh
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2
  lEADER & 3 GRuNTS 
  7 
  lEADER & 5 GRuNTS 
  10 
  MEDiuM bASE
  tharn blooD paCk
  CirCle unit
  
  77
  Attachment [Warpborn 
  Skinwalker] – This 
  attachment can be 
  added to a Warpborn 
  Skinwalker unit. 
  ALPHA 
   Combined Melee Attack
   Fearless
   Officer
   Pathfinder
   Terror
  Granted: Blood Drinker – While this model is in play, models 
  in its unit gain Blood Drinker. (Immediately after a model with 
  Blood Drinker resolves a melee attack in which it destroys 
  one or more living models, it can end its activation to heal d3 
  damage points.) 
  Relentless Advance – When a model in this unit is damaged by 
  an enemy attack, models in this unit gain +2 SPD for one round. 
  Retaliatory Strike – When this model is hit by a melee attack 
  made by an enemy model during your opponent’s turn, after 
  the attack is resolved this model can immediately make one 
  normal melee attack against that model. This model can make 
  one Retaliatory Strike per turn. 
  Tactics: Rapid Strike – Models in this unit gain Rapid Strike. (A 
  model with Rapid Strike can make one additional melee attack 
  each combat action.)  
  Unyielding – While engaging an enemy model, this model 
  gains +2 ARM.
  POLE AXE 
   Reach
  Ravenous and brutal, skinwalker alphas are fearsome 
  combatants, laying low their enemies before feasting upon 
  them as they die screaming. Those they lead follow without 
  hesitation, knowing that they will find either a glorious 
  death or a victory in the blood and viscera of those who 
  stand against them.
  Few skinwalkers live long enough to claim the right of 
  alpha, but those who do reign as veterans of years, perhaps 
  decades, of battle. They have killed in the name of the 
  Wurm across the wilderness of western Immoren, hunted 
  great and deadly beasts, and listened to songs praising 
  their scars and valor. Other skinwalkers would not deign to 
  follow a lesser hero, and alphas must stand ready to prove 
  their worth in honorable combat. He meets any challenge 
  to his authority with a primal howl—terrifying for lesser 
  We claim our tithe in death and glory.
  —Warpborn Alpha Hjal Norn
   5 
  8 
  7 
  3 
  12 16 
  9
  AlphA
   
  POW 
  P+S
  pole Axe
   
  5 
  13
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  creatures to hear—and the snapping of 
  jaws as he brutalizes the challenger into 
  submission. These constant tests ensure 
  not only that the pack respect its leader, 
  but also that he is strong and cunning 
  enough to be worthy of their loyalty.
  Incited to the edge of savage delirium, the alpha 
  and his pack wield their massive axes with shocking 
  speed, cutting down all who come near or dare to 
  return their attacks. They slake their blood thirst 
  upon the gore of their slaughtered foes, rejuvenating 
  themselves without need of respite. Even as their 
  targets fall into mangled ruin, the alpha has already 
  begun to formulate his pack’s next move.
  DAMAgE 
  8
  FiElD AllOWAnCE 
  1
  POinT COST 
  3
  MEDiuM BASE
  Warpborn alpha
  CirCLE Unit AttACHmEnt
  
  78
  
  near the greybranCh gap, 
  602 ar
  Captain Nytyrr looked over the carnage around her with 
  fatalistic detachment, feeling her powerlessness as she 
  lay bleeding.
  Her mind went back to when the Fourth Van had taken 
  this barren hill and its rune-etched stones, just a few weeks 
  earlier. She had expected heavier resistance in wresting 
  the site of arcane power from the druids. A few primitive 
  armored humans and a single druid had made an earnest 
  but futile defense, and it was only a matter of moments 
  before Nytyrr’s myrmidons had reduced them and their 
  stones to ruin. The company and the arcanists they 
  accompanied had set about constructing their installation 
  to harness the site’s power. After weeks without challenge, 
  they had concluded the druids were uninterested or 
  incapable of reclaiming their site.
  The storm had begun shortly before dusk, seemingly 
  from nowhere. She had been preparing to retire to her 
  tent when she had heard the first crack of thunder and 
  felt the first drops of rain. She had looked out at the tree 
  line only a few hundred yards from their camp to see 
  lightning strike the forest once, then again, then a third 
  time in rapid succession. She had barely thought of how 
  remarkable that was when the trees had bent aside and 
  a walking mountain had burst forth, the storm gathered 
  tightly above it.
  More massive than the stones her company had demolished 
  but covered in the same glowing runes, the mighty 
  construct was upon her houseguard before they could 
  form defensive lines. It was to their credit they did not 
  flee outright. Still, their armor provided little protection 
  from the thunderous lightning that arced from the glowing 
  body, roasting them alive. The stone creation rained blows 
  upon them that splintered her myrmidons like kindling, 
  and Nytyrr shouted for her forces to retreat and regroup. 
  Suddenly a flying piece of steel tore through her torso, 
  cutting her words short.
  Pierced through, she fell against a shattered stone bulwark. 
  In the darkness, only the blinding flashes of lightning 
  surrounding the looming construct allowed her to see. A 
  final flash illuminated one of its massive fists, seeming to 
  hover in perfect stillness above her. 
  Nytyrr closed her eyes as it began its descent.
  wolDwrath
  79
  
  —
  80
  woldwrath 
   construct
  Spell Ward – This model 
  cannot be targeted by spells. 
  lightning strike 
   Damage Type: Electricity
  Storm Generator – When 
  a model is directly hit with 
  this weapon, center a 3˝ 
  AOE on it. You can then 
  have lightning arc to the 
  nearest model within 4˝ of 
  the model hit, ignoring the 
  attacking model. The model 
  the lightning arcs to suffers 
  an unboostable POW 10 
  electrical damage roll 
  . 
  After this damage roll is 
  resolved, center a 3˝ AOE 
  on the model the lightning 
  arced to. The AOEs remain in play for one round. Models 
  entering or ending their activations in an AOE suffer a POW 10 
  electrical damage roll 
  . 
  stone fist 
   Open FIst
  Earth Shaker – When an enemy model is directly hit by an 
  attack made with this weapon, center a 4˝ AOE on the model 
  directly hit. Models in the AOE are knocked down. 
  ultimate fury of Orboros. Brought to life amid strenuous, 
  blood-fueled rituals conducted atop powerful conjunctions 
  of ley lines, a woldwrath channels the vast energies that 
  flow within the earth. Its tempestuous assaults are prefaced 
  by voltaic flickers that play along darkening clouds above 
  and the pulsing runes inscribed across its stone form. In 
  the aftermath of its summoned storm, all that remains of 
  its enemies are charred and smoldering husks scattered 
  upon the rain-drenched ground.
  Blackclads perfected the crafting of wolds millennia ago. 
  The first woldwraths, however, did not appear until after 
  the dragon Toruk was driven from the mainland and 
  descended upon the Scharde Isles. Before that time, the 
  Circle Orboros held vast territories amid the islands, which 
  formed a vital portion of its ley line network. The speed 
  with which the dragon destroyed the druidic guardians in 
  that region prompted the fabrication of new and mightier 
  weapons: the first great woldwraths.
  Senior druids knew the power at their disposal relied upon 
  the network of ley lines that stretched under their feet. The 
  woldwraths were built not simply to siphon that power to 
  drive their myriad functions but also to store it for later 
  use. Able to hold that energy in reserve and then direct it 
  at enemy forces, a handful of woldwraths were created to 
  stand against threats on the scale of dragons, which had 
  rapidly become a growing threat.
  When the Orgoth invaded western Immoren, the druids 
  of the Circle Orboros were scarcely more prepared than 
  the warring city-states. The Circle sought to avoid direct 
  contact with the invaders whenever possible, but the 
  Orgoth witches were drawn to the sites of power the 
  blackclads had erected, seeking to exploit them for their 
  own dark rites. The Orgoth launched many brutal raids 
  to that end, forcing the Circle to fight bitterly in a largely 
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  sPell warD – This model is shielded from friendly and enemy 
  spells alike. 
  sTorM generaTor – The lightning will still arc to a model with 
  Immunity: Electricity; it just cannot damage that model. Damage 
  from Storm Generator arcs is not considered to have been caused 
  by a hit or by a melee or ranged attack. 
  The Circle Orboros has entered the end times, when it must 
  launch the full force of plans centuries in the making and 
  unleash ancient arsenals. Among the greatest of its weapons 
  are the woldwraths, which must be brought forth to the 
  battle lines and pitted against the many forces that would 
  see the world plunged into darkness. 
  A woldwrath stands as a towering monument to 
  woldcrafting genius, meant to tap into and unbind the 
  There is a time for planning and a time for fury.
  —Krueger the Stormwrath
   5 16 
  6 
  5 
  7 
  20 
  —
  WOLDWRATH
  LIGHTNING STRIKE
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   14 
  1 
  — 
  15
   
  POW 
  P+S
  STONE FIST
   
  3 
  19
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  druid’s wrath 
  2 
  self 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  Friendly Faction models gain an additional die on magic attack 
  rolls targeting enemy models within 10˝ of this model. Druid’s 
  Wrath lasts for one turn.
  FuRy 
  4 
  ThREShOlD 
  - 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  POiNT COST 
  20 
  huGE bASE
  wolDwrath
  CirCle gargantuan
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  3
  4
  1
  2
  l
   
  POW 
  P+S
  STONE FIST
   
  3 
  19
  R
  
  81
  futile attempt to defend them. The woldwraths inflicted 
  a heavy toll upon the invaders in those battles, virtually 
  all of which went unrecorded. The most awesome of 
  these clashes occurred at the battle of Nine Stones, in 
  what would become western Cygnar, where the druids 
  sent five woldwraths against a host of Orgoth. Although 
  the blackclads were ultimately defeated and their wolds 
  crumbled to ruin, the battle set back the Orgoth conquest 
  of druidic sacred sites by decades. In time, as the Orgoth 
  began to lose their foothold in western Immoren, the 
  Circle again deployed woldwraths to expel the invaders 
  from places stolen from them. The Circle eventually 
  withdrew the surviving woldwraths into their most 
  remote fastnesses.
  In the present, escalating conflict has forced the omnipotents 
  of the Circle to unleash their great weapons again. Ancient, 
  weathered woldwraths have been drawn from their 
  resting places even as new ones are crafted. Like all wolds, 
  woldwraths must be crafted according to exacting rituals; 
  indeed, tremendous power is required to animate such 
  huge constructs. A woldwrath’s wood and stone frame 
  must be ceremonially imbued with the blood of life at a 
  nexus of ley lines during key astronomical conjunctions. 
  Fresh blood is harvested from battles and delivered unto 
  these productions alongside freshly quarried stone and 
  gathered timber.
  Once given the semblance of sentience, woldwraths aid 
  their druidic masters. Off the battlefield, they serve as 
  mobile replacements for the permanent standing stones 
  situated at sites of great power, facilitating members of the 
  Circle in tapping the energy of ley lines. It is in combat, 
  however, that the constructs fulfill their terrible promise. 
  As a woldwrath closes with the enemy, it discharges 
  destructive lightning—emanations so great that whole 
  thunderstorms gather about the construct and linger even 
  after battle ends. While nearby druids leverage its power 
  to augment their own natural magic, a woldwrath smashes 
  the Circle’s challengers into wreckage. Roused to battle, it 
  enacts the will of the blackclads and Orboros itself.
  
  82
  East of Mount Shyleth Breen
  unassailable
  Supreme Archdomina Makeda planted the Talon of 
  Murzoul in the rocky soil and leaned upon the renowned 
  blade. She was weary, but like that mighty sword of the 
  first archdominar, she would neither bend nor break. Below 
  her stretched a narrow valley cloaked in thin mist. Just 
  beyond, a rugged pass ascended steeply, finally terminating 
  at the gates of a fortress bristling with stone towers and 
  foreboding ramparts: the Twilight Gate. Within those walls 
  lay an ancient and formidable enemy.
  The grim edifice guarded a remote and difficult route into 
  Ios, home to the descendants of Lyoss, the ancient empire 
  whose collapse had opened the gaping wound in the desert 
  the skorne called the Abyss. The pass constituted the sole 
  entrance into Ios through the southern mountains, its 
  primary geographical barrier. To Makeda’s knowledge, the 
  vast gate had never been opened. No army had even dared 
  the arduous trek to reach it. 
  Through the exalted ancestor Hakaar the Destroyer, Makeda 
  had learned that a significant portion of the Iosans’ military 
  had been sent abroad, providing a singular opportunity for 
  conquest. She intended to establish a new skorne foothold 
  upon elven soil. Ios afforded no easy points of entry—each 
  path presented its own perils—but instincts honed over 
  decades of war told her this one offered her best chance. The 
  approach to the Gate of Mists to the northwest was more 
  open, with only the forest itself to stand in the way of a 
  looming enemy, but it was also the most heavily fortified 
  for that very reason.
  Even here, Ios was well defended. An invading army had 
  few places to establish a hold for a siege without subjecting 
  itself to the full fury of the gate’s defenses. A frontal assault, 
  even with a large army, was tantamount to suicide; her 
  scouts had reported the walls held strange cannons that 
  fired gouts of raw energy. Still, compared to the Gate of 
  Mists, the Twilight Gate did not seem insurmountable. The 
  Iosans did not expect an attack here, and although the gate 
  itself was a nigh-impregnable barrier, it lacked the support 
  of a large standing army. 
  Makeda had led her forces up the treacherous slopes near 
  Mount Shyleth Breen to reach this location, driving them by 
  the brutal ministrations of her paingivers and employing 
  mortitheurgy to push them beyond exhaustion. Some had 
  died, of course, but the massive army had arrived largely 
  intact. She had brought the mightiest weapons of the Skorne 
  Empire: legions of heavily armored Cataphracts; dozens of 
  warbeasts; and four mammoths, the gargantuan cousins of 
  the indomitable titans. Each mammoth fought as a mobile 
  siege engine unto itself, boasting a battery of cannons of 
  earthshaking power.
  A secondary skorne army led by Dominar Rasheth and Lord 
  Arbiter Hexeris would harass the Gate of Mists itself, while 
  Tyrant Xerxis’ small force would test the heavily fortified 
  northeastern bastion of the Aeryth Dawnguard. The lesser 
  skorne armies would attack those border garrisons and 
  keep them engaged, making it risky for them to redeploy 
  in a unified defense. Meanwhile, Makeda’s army could 
  penetrate the interior from an unexpected direction. 
  A piercing scream from the skorne camp behind Makeda 
  drew her attention. Her lord assassin was hard at work, 
  wringing information from Iosan captives. The enemy 
  could conceal no secrets from her.
  She turned toward the camp and saw the stone forms of 
  her two exalted guardians obediently waiting a few steps 
  behind her. Each of the mighty constructs had once been 
  a warrior of great renown from House Balaash. They 
  comprised part of her exalted court, gifts from the extoller 
  caste intended to embody her favor among the exalted 
  ancestors of her house.
  As Makeda set off toward the crimson tents, the exalted 
  guardians fell in behind her. She found Morghoul’s large, 
  unadorned tent near the center of camp. The screams were 
  reaching a shattering crescendo as she stepped into the 
  gloomy interior. 
  “Supreme Archdomina,” Morghoul said and bowed, 
  stepping away from the naked, bleeding Iosan tied to a 
  Skorne
  
  83
  stake in the center of the tent. The lord assassin held a short, 
  curved knife in his left hand, its blade stained crimson. The 
  tent housed only a wooden stool and a steel rack holding 
  an assortment of implements useful in interrogation: short 
  blades, iron rods, pincers, and a few more exotic spiked tools. 
  “Lord Assassin,” Makeda said. “Has this toksaa provided 
  any useful information?” She barely glanced at the slumped 
  and moaning Iosan but could see that Morghoul had flayed 
  most of the skin from his left arm. 
  Morghoul nodded. “He has, Supreme Archdomina. It 
  appears the Twilight Gate is not the only fortification in this 
  area. A small group of scouts occupies a watchtower with a 
  commanding view of the Twilight Gate and the valley. They 
  likely were the first to witness our approach and warned 
  the defenders.” 
  Makeda understood immediately. “From such a place we 
  could fire down upon on the walls,” she said. “Is the area 
  large enough to accommodate our mammoths?”
  “I believe so, although the path to reach it will be a challenge 
  for them. Nothing we cannot overcome, I think.” 
  “Good. You will leave after nightfall. Take whatever you 
  need,” Makeda ordered. 
  Morghoul bowed. “Yes, Supreme Archdomina.” 
  “You have done well,” Makeda said over her shoulder as 
  she turned to leave. Morghoul returned to the Iosan, knife 
  in hand. As the tent flap closed behind her, Makeda heard 
  one last desperate plea cut suddenly short. 
  Morghoul crept slowly up a thickly wooded mountain slope in 
  the pre-dawn darkness, his footsteps barely a whisper. A half-
  dozen bloodrunners moved silently behind him, jagged 
  daggers in hand. Behind them were the two basilisks he had 
  brought on this expedition: a drake and a krea. Ahead, the 
  trees gave way to a gigantic rock outcropping that supported a 
  square tower of ivory stone. The winding path there had been 
  cunningly concealed; the skorne scouts never would have 
  found it on their own. The lord assassin felt the press of time. 
  He had hoped to conclude this business under cover of night, 
  but reaching the tower had taken longer than anticipated.
  Morghoul had learned the watchtower held only a small 
  garrison. The clearing stood empty save for one of the smaller 
  Iosan myrmidons, encased in white armor dotted with softly 
  glowing nodes of energy and bearing long, curved blades 
  upon slender forearms. Its seemingly perfunctory presence 
  guarding the tower entrance told Morghoul the Iosans were 
  not expecting an attack here. He signaled to the paingivers to 
  wait. He intended to see to the machine personally.
  At one with the darkness, Morghoul approached within 
  twenty feet of the myrmidon before it turned its oddly 
  angled head to face him, suddenly alert. He gave up any 
  pretense of stealth and charged forward. A brightening 
  energy field went up around the machine, but Morghoul 
  was upon it before it could fire its enigmatic weapon. 
  Meeting only slight resistance, he plunged the point of 
  his blade, Mercy, through the barrier and into the glowing 
  node on the machine’s left shoulder. Sparks erupted as 
  he shattered internal mechanisms, and the limb seized. A 
  subsequent swipe of his mystical Fan of Shadows rendered 
  the construct blind and unable to follow his movements. 
  He yanked Mercy free and struck several times in rapid 
  succession, each time at another glowing nexus. The 
  myrmidon could not retaliate before its light faded and it 
  toppled, broken and inert. 
  His bloodrunners rushed into the clearing to join him, 
  immediately launching grappling hooks into the tower’s 
  upper battlements. Once they had begun to climb, still 
  unseen, Morghoul turned his attention to the structure’s 
  single sealed entrance. 
  Quickly considering his options, the lord assassin 
  commanded his drake to apply its withering gaze against 
  the stone. Waves of rippling, unnatural power shimmered 
  in the air between basilisk and tower; soon, the stone door 
  began to pucker and warp like skin exposed to flame. 
  Morghoul mentally urged the creature to repeat its assault, 
  and the door gave way just as the bloodrunners began 
  to reach the top, climbing nimbly into open apertures to 
  murder those within. Morghoul could hear Iosans raising 
  the alarm as he stepped into the lower level, weapons in 
  hand. He siphoned energy from the krea to create a dense 
  energy field that would slow incoming projectiles.
  The few Iosan guards in the bare, circular chamber fired 
  rifles in his direction, but their shots were ineffective. Alarm 
  washed over their faces. Morghoul waved his bladed fan 
  in a precise flourish and vanished as they fired again, and 
  bullets passed through the space where he had been. He 
  emerged from the shadows several yards closer to them 
  and sped across the remaining space before they gathered 
  their wits. He wove a lethal path through the group, his 
  jagged blade and razor-edged fan cutting them down with 
  each twist of his body. He rushed up the winding stairs to 
  he wove a lethal path through 
  the group, his jagged blade and 
  razor-edged fan Cutting theM 
  down with eaCh twist of his body .
  
  84
  find that his subordinates had efficiently subdued the rest 
  of the small garrison without any losses. He gave a single 
  approving nod to their ranking tormentor.
  After ensuring the tower was secure, Morghoul walked to 
  the eastern edge of the rocky outcropping and looked down 
  upon the Twilight Gate. The dawn’s first light showed gun 
  emplacements festooning its walls and soldiers swarming 
  its battlements like ants. He turned and surveyed the 
  rest of the area. While it would be tight, he could see a 
  way to fit a pair of mammoths and perhaps a half-dozen 
  titan cannoneers here. He could even position a couple of 
  Venator catapults farther back and then rain down fire upon 
  the Iosan fortress with impunity. 
  Morghoul retreated from the precipice to check on the 
  mammoths and the beast handlers negotiating the cliffside 
  trail. He knew Makeda’s assault would begin soon, and he 
  had little time to prepare. Many skorne would die in the 
  hours ahead, but the imminent conquest held the potential 
  for exaltation—and for that, they would die gladly. 
  The bloodrunner was somewhat out of breath when he was 
  brought before Makeda, having run several miles across 
  difficult terrain to bring her Morghoul’s message. The 
  supreme archdomina sat on a wooden stool in front of her 
  tent buckling her armor. “Report,” she said as she began 
  fastening her greaves. Around the camp, she saw many of 
  her commanders letting slaves aid them in donning their 
  armor. She wanted all to see their leader preparing for war. 
  “Lord Morghoul bid me tell you he is in position, Supreme 
  Archdomina,” the bloodrunner said. 
  “Good,” she replied as she slipped her floating pauldrons 
  over her head and fastened each under one arm. She stood 
  and began securing tassets to her breastplate; the long, 
  segmented armor protected her legs from waist to knee. 
  “Signal him he is to begin his assault the moment the Iosans 
  open fire.” The bloodrunner bowed and set off to do as bid.
  Armor in place, Makeda picked up her massive blade and 
  propped it on one shoulder. It was said the blade may have 
  been forged in ancient Lyoss, the great empire of the toksaa, 
  who now called themselves Iosans. She found it fitting her 
  enemy would fall before a weapon crafted by their ancestors.
  Her exalted guardians following, Makeda moved through 
  the camp. The majority of her troops and warbeasts awaited 
  their tyrants in a wide swath of cleared forest. In the center 
  of the camp, Makeda found a dozen armored tyrants plus a 
  handful of lord tyrants and two dominars, all handpicked 
  from important noble houses and given command of a 
  portion of the army. The skorne leaders each made obeisance 
  based on their standing. Tyrant Rhadeim, commander of 
  the prestigious Praetorian ferox legions, simply bowed 
  his head, while Tyrant Xarus, who led the lowly ranks of 
  Venator reivers, dropped to one knee. 
  She moved among the towering, armored tyrants and 
  approached a much smaller figure attired in the crimson 
  robes of his office.
  “Aptimus Marketh,” she said. “Have you made the 
  necessary preparations?”
  The stooped skorne extoller bowed low. “I have, Supreme 
  Archdomina,” he said. “The ancestors will communicate 
  your message to the lord arbiter and Tyrant Xerxis when 
  the time is right. Perhaps we should consult the supreme 
  aptimus—” 
  “No.” Makeda cut him off. “This task is yours. You will not 
  require Zaal’s assistance.” 
  “I understand,” Marketh said and withdrew. 
  Makeda turned to the assembled tyrants. “Prepare for 
  battle. We march within the hour.” 
  Scyir Nyla Ferryl drew a deep breath and placed her hands 
  on the crenellation before her. She stood on the eastern 
  forward battlements—those closest to the outer wall—of 
  the Twilight Gate, looking out at the gigantic skorne army 
  approaching up the pass. Her shock at the situation was 
  somewhat muted by its absurdity. The folly of attack should 
  have been clear to the enemy: the steep angle of the valley 
  rendered a protracted siege impossible, and the defenders’ 
  vantage would allow their artillery to shred the invaders 
  before they could even close to attack.
  That these savages had managed to negotiate the approach 
  with thousands of troops and a multitude of cumbersome 
  beasts was surprising. It was well known the eastern 
  savages had been attacking Cygnar to the south, but she 
  was certain none among the hallytyr had any idea they had 
  been planning to shift their aggression to the Iosan border. 
  She shook her head. Did these barbarians actually 
  believe they could successfully invade Ios? Their fighting 
  prowess might have advanced over the centuries, but 
  their weaponry remained primitive. The massive cannons 
  mounted on the backs of the largest beasts, however, 
  did give her pause. There might be some danger if those 
  creatures reached the wall.
  Nyla turned to the houseguard captain standing at attention 
  behind her. “I want Stormfall archers on the forward 
  battlements, riflemen on the secondary battlements, and all 
  cannons manned and ready.”
  “Yes, Scyir,” he said and set off to enact her orders.
  
  85
  Iosans to shoot from various angles and left approaching 
  armies no sanctuary from their guns. It was a vexing design. 
  Normally she would need weeks and a well-supplied siege 
  force to crack open the walls before her. She had neither, 
  however, and the risks she had taken just to bring her army 
  to this point might prove her undoing. She immediately 
  hardened her resolve. The ancestors would not have set her 
  on this path to see her fail.
  One section of the outer battlements appeared more scorched 
  and pitted than the rest. Here sat the largest battery of Iosan 
  cannons, and neither she nor Morghoul had been able to 
  remove it. The position was partially shielded from direct 
  fire by a thick, sloped deflective cowling. As she watched, 
  the heavy battery unleashed a massive blast of energy up 
  at Morghoul’s forces. The destructive energy struck one 
  of the mammoths, whose bellow of pain was audible even 
  hundreds of feet below.
  The sight of the wounded beast spurred the first feelings 
  of true doubt within Makeda. Despite the size of her army 
  and all the firepower she had brought against the Twilight 
  Gate, the Iosans simply might be too strong. If she failed 
  here after receiving the ancestors’ guidance, after diverting 
  so much of the Army of the Western Reaches to this place, 
  her recently established rule might be severely damaged. 
  She watched as the injured mammoth staggered back against 
  the second mammoth on the ledge. That beast, furious at 
  this interference, turned and slammed into its wounded 
  compatriot, who lurched to the edge of the precipice. It 
  stood there for a moment, swaying with confusion and 
  blood loss, before trying to take a step. It wobbled, lost its 
  footing, and plunged over the side with a keening bellow. 
  The mammoth turned end-over-end as it fell through the 
  air, its six limbs flailing wildly. The battle suddenly seemed 
  to slow as eyes turned to stare at the impossible sight of 
  sixty tons of beast, leather, and steel plunging from the sky.
  As if guided by the will of the ancestors, the falling mammoth 
  broke through the cowling to strike the main Iosan gun battery 
  and the charged mechanisms empowering it. The subsequent 
  explosions—combining the ordnance on the mammoth with 
  the Iosan machinery—created an enormous, brilliant ball 
  of orange and blue fire whose heat and intensity competed 
  with the sun above. The sound was unlike anything Makeda 
  had ever experienced, a low, reverberating rumble that 
  hammered her ears and shook her bones.
  the battle suddenly seeMed to slow as 
  eyes turned to stare at the iMpossible 
  sight of sixty tons of beast, leather, 
  and steel plunging froM the sky .
  Let these foreigners come, she thought. Let them be smashed 
  against our walls, and let their bones serve as a warning to any 
  who would challenge Ios’ strength.
  She let her consciousness slip into the cortex of the Hyperion 
  stationed inside the main gate. The mighty myrmidon 
  emerged fully from its dormancy, and she bathed in the 
  pleasant sensation of its immense destructive potential. 
  Nyla smiled thinly. Yes. Let them come. 
  Makeda gritted her teeth as the mammoth’s siege battery 
  cannons discharged with a deafening blast above her. The 
  munitions smashed into the top of the wall and detonated; 
  the explosion destroyed an Iosan cannon and hurled its 
  operators into the air, limbs flailing in death. 
  Around her was a cacophony of cannon fire, thunderous 
  explosions, and the desperate cries of the dead and dying. The 
  Iosan artillery had been devastatingly effective, and they had 
  begun bombarding her army long before their walls were in 
  range of her own guns. The fortress’ weapons released bursts 
  of energy that tore apart warriors or fired heavy metallic bolts 
  that pierced their heaviest armor. The battlements swarmed 
  with archers and riflemen. The gunmen picked off her reivers 
  and other lightly armored troops while the archers fired 
  arrows fitted with explosive tips. 
  The battle had begun a few hours ago, and Makeda was 
  certain she had lost almost a quarter of her army. Positioning 
  herself in the center of the skorne legion, she stood between 
  two mammoths as the behemoths fired their cannons at the 
  Iosan walls. Four titan cannoneers stood close by, adding 
  their firepower to the fusillade. She actively controlled each 
  of the beasts, fueling their rage and directing their attacks to 
  inflict the most damage. 
  In front of her stood rank upon rank of Cataphract cetrati, 
  shields locked, providing a bulwark of steel and flesh 
  designed to protect her from the worst of the Iosan assault. 
  On the army’s flanks, legions of Venator reivers and 
  batteries of flayer cannons rained steel death upon the Iosan 
  walls. Ferox riders, bloodrunners, nihilators, and several 
  warbeasts waited out of range of the Iosan artillery. They 
  would get their chance when the walls were breached. 
  Makeda knew her army was being cut to pieces, but the 
  offensive had not been completely ineffective. Morghoul 
  had positioned his mammoths and cannoneers above 
  the fortress, and his beasts fired down at a severe angle, 
  destroying both enemy cannons and troops. 
  She surveyed the walls, looking for any sign of weakness. 
  The fortress was a series of staggered battlements, each one 
  rising higher than the last—a configuration that allowed the 
  
  86
  Seconds after the fire and thunder died away, a huge chunk 
  of stone fell from the Iosan wall beneath the obliterated 
  gun battery, and a crack as wide as a titan’s arm appeared 
  below that. Makeda immediately commanded both her 
  mammoths and all her cannoneers to concentrate fire on the 
  broken section of wall. Discharged almost simultaneously, 
  more than a dozen blasts thundered across the weakened 
  section a heartbeat later.
  She could not have hoped for a better result. A section of 
  wall hundreds of feet across vanished in a cloud of white 
  dust, tumbling defenders to their deaths. The dust cleared 
  quickly, revealing a gaping hole large enough for an army 
  to exploit, and the supreme archdomina urged her forces 
  forward. Banners flashed across the ranks, conveying a 
  single command: Charge! 
  Every remaining Iosan gun turned toward them. Eruptions 
  of concussive energy and armor-piercing bolts slammed 
  into one of her mammoths. Loosing a trumpeting wail, the 
  creature began to crumple. Makeda narrowly avoided being 
  struck by the falling wall of gray flesh, which impacted the 
  ground with a tremendous crash. 
  Moving past it, Makeda impelled the remaining mammoth 
  and the nearby titans into a run, sending them at the gap in 
  the wall. She followed closely with her exalted guardians, 
  shouting commands to her troops. She saw Tyrant Rhadeim 
  and his ferox riders advancing swiftly behind her, and she 
  knew the rest of her reserve troops would quickly follow. 
  Beyond, roughly a hundred yards of open space stood 
  between the outer wall and the first interior wall. Archers 
  manning the battlement atop the interior wall immediately 
  began to rain arrows down on the Cataphracts, but three 
  squads of Venator reivers behind the cetrati returned fire, 
  keeping the archers from picking off the heavily armored 
  warriors at will. A large contingent of houseguard armed 
  with shields and poleaxes stood between the skorne 
  and the first interior gate. Three towering myrmidons, 
  each brandishing two curved blades, supported the 
  houseguard. 
  The Cataphracts charged forward and slammed into the 
  first rank of houseguard with a tumultuous clash of steel 
  on steel. Makeda focused her efforts on the myrmidons, 
  urging her mammoth forward into one of them while her 
  four titan cannoneers opened fire on the remaining two. 
  The mammoth quickly smashed the first myrmidon to scrap 
  with its enormous fists, and the others were dispatched by 
  thunderous cannon blasts. 
  More skorne troops poured through the breach in the outer 
  wall behind Makeda, and she summoned her mortitheurgy 
  to ease their passage. Targeting the archers atop the 
  secondary battlements, she detonated dark energy in their 
  midst and hurled their broken bodies from the wall. 
  The Cataphracts had made short work of the houseguard and 
  were now pushing toward the inner gate, a thirty-foot–tall 
  barrier of stone and steel. Before they reached it, however, 
  it opened, and a vast shadow fell across them. Through the 
  aperture stepped a towering myrmidon easily the size of a 
  mammoth, its pristine, white-enameled armor broken only by 
  softly glowing nodes of energy. Its gigantic fists bore glinting 
  blades, and strange mechanisms clustered on its torso.
  A strange, buzzing whine suddenly filled the area between 
  the walls as swirling blue energy began to coalesce in the 
  open space above the myrmidon’s head. The Cataphracts 
  continued to surge forward, eager to engage the host of 
  houseguard behind the Iosan machine. Then the weapon 
  discharged, but instead of an explosion, all the sounds of 
  the battlefield were suddenly swallowed, leaving an eerie, 
  unnatural silence, Barely a breath later, a brilliant wash of 
  energy erupted from the myrmidon to engulf the Cataphracts 
  in mute annihilation. A dozen of them all but vanished, 
  leaving behind only the imprint of their bodies in layers of 
  ash left like shadows where they had stood. 
  More houseguard flowed around the looming construct and 
  slammed into the stunned line of cetrati, driving them back. 
  Leading the charge was an Iosan female who moved with 
  speed and agility belying her heavy white and gray armor. 
  She carried an enormous blade in both hands, and Makeda 
  watched her cut down two Cataphracts and knock aside 
  two more with a burst of arcane force. 
  This could only be the Iosan warcaster who commanded 
  the Twilight Gate and controlled the myrmidon. Galvanized 
  by such a worthy foe, Makeda sent her mammoth at the 
  myrmidon while she charged the onrushing line of Iosan 
  troops. She held the Talon of Murzoul aloft and then brought 
  it down to fell the nearest armored Iosan. As his life spilled 
  forth the sword shivered with power, and Makeda released 
  a rippling burst of dire energy that obliterated two lines 
  of halberdiers in front of her. She pressed on, her flashing 
  blade a sliver of inescapable death. Her exalted guardians 
  followed close behind, twin blades threshing armor and 
  flesh in obsidian blurs. 
  Ahead, the mammoth had engaged the huge myrmidon, and 
  Makeda compelled it to strike harder and faster. She could 
  feel its rage straining at the edge of her control, filling her 
  with both exhilaration and anxiety. She could not risk losing 
  her exalted guardians 
  followed Close behind, twin 
  blades threshing arMor  
  and flesh in obsidian blurs . 
  
  87
  control of the massive beast. Fortunately, the resources to 
  avoid such a calamity—the warriors that fell beneath her 
  blade and those of her exalted guardians—were all around 
  her. Letting the lethal flow of combat focus her mind, she 
  channeled mortitheurgical energy through all three blades. 
  Now their weapons reaped more than just flesh. With each 
  Iosan life the trio extinguished, Makeda’s arcane might grew. 
  She drew upon this wellspring of mortitheurgical strength 
  and shunted it to the mammoth, driving the creature into a 
  brutal frenzy of hammering fists and gouging tusks. 
  The myrmidon’s armor crumpled beneath the mammoth’s 
  magic-fueled onslaught, but its blades continued to slash 
  the beast’s flesh, opening up grievous wounds. The ground 
  shook as the two battered at one another. 
  Makeda and her exalted guardians had cut a swath through 
  the houseguard and were within striking distance of the 
  Iosan leader. The warcaster saw her approaching and—to 
  Makeda’s satisfaction—did not shrink from the challenge. 
  They came together in a clash of enchanted steel, their blades 
  ringing against one another in a quick series of attacks and 
  ripostes. Makeda’s sword behaved like a living thing in her 
  hands as she slashed, parried, and slashed again. 
  A tremendous crash of stone on steel suddenly drowned out 
  the din of battle. Makeda looked away from her opponent 
  for a fraction of a second to see the tremendous myrmidon 
  on its back, her mammoth pummeling it with unrestrained 
  bloodlust. She turned her attention immediately back to the 
  warcaster, who pressed forward in a series of lightning-fast 
  thrusts and slashes.
  Makeda deflected these attacks with disappointing ease. 
  The Iosan was beginning to tire, but her stoic features held 
  no trace of desperation. The supreme archdomina parried a 
  clumsy overhand slash and then struck out with an armored 
  foot, catching her opponent in the stomach. The Iosan 
  stumbled back, tripped over a corpse, and fell backward. 
  Makeda took a single step back and waited for her to rise. 
  She wanted to kill her on her feet. From the corner of her 
  eye, Makeda saw her exalted guardians cutting down a pair 
  of Iosan warriors coming to their leader’s aid. 
  The enemy warcaster stood slowly and glanced around. 
  She was cut off from her troops and surrounded by a ring 
  of cetrati. Makeda thought this would break her, but instead 
  the woman held up her sword and waited for her opponent 
  to advance.
  In Iosan, Makeda asked, “What is your name, warrior?”
  “I am Scyir Nyla Ferryl,” came the answer. “Do you lead 
  these savages?” 
  Makeda smiled. “You will die well today, Scyir Nyla 
  Ferryl, for I am Supreme Archdomina Makeda, ruler of the 
  Skorne Empire.” 
  The Iosan’s eyes widened but then narrowed again as 
  she set her sword in a high guard and charged. Makeda 
  followed suit. She batted aside the Iosan blade with 
  her own and whirled the Talon of Murzoul in a vicious 
  counterattack. The sword flashed beneath the enemy’s 
  guard, and Makeda felt it bite armor and flesh. The mortal 
  cut sent the Iosan to her knees, blood streaming from a 
  wound beneath her left arm. 
  The supreme archdomina wrenched the blade free and let 
  the Iosan sag to the ground. She collapsed on her back, 
  staring up at the skorne leader. Her mouth moved, and 
  Makeda bent to hear her last words. 
  “You will fail,” the Iosan whispered. Blood leaked from the 
  corner of her mouth. Her lips moved again, and Makeda 
  thought she heard a single word—a name, perhaps—but 
  death stole it, along with anything that might have followed. 
  The sounds of battle had quieted. Makeda looked up to 
  see the Iosans retreating toward the inner gate, cetrati 
  hounding their footsteps. The death of their leader and 
  the destruction of their shining war machine had reduced 
  their thirst for battle, but their withdrawal was orderly. 
  They were not yet broken. 
  At Makeda’s command, the Cataphracts abandoned the 
  retreating houseguard. She doubted there were more than a 
  few hundred remaining, and she possessed better tools for 
  finishing them. Looking around, she saw that the forward 
  ferox riders had made it through the breach, including 
  Tyrant Rhadeim. 
  She halted him before he could dismount. “Tyrant Rhadeim,” 
  she said, “the toksaa flee into their fortress. Remove them. 
  Use any resources you require.”
  The tyrant nodded. “Of course, Supreme Archdomina. We 
  shall hunt them down and offer them swift death.”
  Makeda nodded and watched Rhadeim, a dozen Praetorian 
  ferox, and squad after squad of Praetorian swordsmen and 
  Venator reivers disappear through the interior gate. She was 
  confident no enemy would escape the relentless tyrant.
  Once she returned to the outside wall, she was pleased to 
  see tyrants and dominars organizing for the next stage of 
  her conquest. Morghoul had led his force down from the 
  watchtower to join the bulk of her army. He approached 
  and bowed low. 
  “The 
  ancestors 
  have 
  shown 
  their 
  favor, 
  Supreme 
  Archdomina,” Morghoul said. “We are victorious.”
  She turned to look back through the breached outer wall of 
  the Twilight Gate and nodded. “We shall strike deep into 
  the heart of our enemy unhindered by stone, steel, or flesh. 
  This is only the beginning.”
  
  88
  feat: danCe of 
  death 
  Few can compare with 
  Makeda’s peerless and 
  deadly grace in combat. 
  At the crescendo of battle 
  she fills her blade and the 
  weapons of her warbeasts 
  with mortitheurgical energies. 
  With every foe she slays, her 
  mystical might grows, fueling 
  her own strikes while granting 
  her absolute command of the 
  warbeasts that fight beside her. 
  When a model in Makeda’s 
  battlegroup destroys one or more enemy models in her control 
  area with an attack, either Makeda can gain 1 fury point or 1 
  fury point can be removed from a model in her battlegroup that 
  is in her control area. Dance of Death lasts for one turn. 
  Makeda 
   Officer
  Battle-Driven – When a model in this unit is damaged by an 
  enemy attack, after the attack is resolved models in this unit 
  gain +2 STR and ARM and Pathfinder 
   for one round. 
  Inspiration [Skorne] – Friendly Skorne models/units in this 
  model’s command range never flee and immediately rally. 
  Warlock Unit – This unit is made up of Makeda and 2 Exalted 
  Guardians. 
  talon of Murzoul 
   Magical Weapon
   Reach
  Blood Boon – Once per activation, immediately after resolving 
  an attack in which it destroyed a living enemy model with this 
  weapon, this model can cast a spell with COST 3 or less without 
  spending fury.
  a divided people. Makeda knew she must demonstrate that 
  the role of supreme archdomina was an extension of ancient 
  skorne traditions and a lasting office in the new empire. To 
  signify she was now far more than the leader of a single 
  house, Makeda ceremonially set aside the weapons of her 
  house, the swords of Balaash. Only a weapon of superlative 
  power and significance could stand in their place. In all of 
  the empire only one could possibly qualify. She commanded 
  that the Talon of Murzoul be brought to her, to be wielded 
  during the conquests to come in the west. 
  This fearsome artifact is the most ancient weapon of the 
  skorne, connected with the first to call himself archdominar, 
  over four thousand years ago. That was the exalted warrior 
  Murzoul, who brought the skorne together in their first 
  great city, Malphas, beneath the cliffs of the Shroudfall 
  Mountains. The sword of Murzoul was even then a relic of 
  great significance and fearsome power, as its blade had been 
  retrieved from Lyossan ruins near the yawning Abyss and 
  surpassed in quality and refinement any the skorne could 
  forge. When the revered Murzoul received exaltation upon 
  his death, his sacral stone was placed in the pommel of his 
  sword to empower it with his ancestral spirit. Over time 
  the weapon was passed down to the greatest archdominars 
  of Malphas and has thus ever been close to the origins of 
  skorne civilization. In the intervening centuries the sword 
  drank deeply of the blood of lesser skorne houses. 
  The ruler of Malphas responded instantly to Makeda’s 
  summons and alongside the other great leaders vowed 
  obedience to Makeda as she formalized her new role. He 
  surrendered to her the Talon of Murzoul, the greatest 
  treasure of his house. It is a hungry weapon of power 
  and embodies for many skorne their conquest of eastern 
  eliMinator 
  3 
  8 
  3 
  13 
  no yes 
  Immediately after this attack is resolved, this model can advance up to 2˝ 
  for each enemy model destroyed by the attack. 
  ground zero 
  3 
  self 
  5 
  13 
  no no 
  Center a 5˝ AOE on this model. Each other model in the AOE is hit and 
  suffers a POW 13 damage roll. Each enemy model damaged by Ground 
  Zero is pushed d6˝ directly away from this model in the order you choose. 
  sunhaMMer 
  3 
  self Ctrl 
  – 
  yes no 
  Enemy warbeasts/warjacks that advance more than 1˝ and end their 
  normal movement in this model’s control area suffer d3 damage points. 
  vortex of destruCtion 2 
  self 
  – 
  – 
  yes no 
  Damage rolls against enemy models in this model’s melee range are 
  automatically boosted. 
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  Makeda leads the Skorne Empire into a new era and in 
  doing so embodies all the strength, pride, and martial 
  prowess of her people. She is not merely supreme 
  archdomina, but one of the greatest military minds and 
  combatants ever forged in the harsh and unforgiving 
  crucible that is eastern Immoren. Marching at the fore 
  of her army, she is positioned to lead this empire on a 
  campaign of unprecedented conquest that will change the 
  shape of Immoren and create a new balance of power. 
  After seizing the mantle of leadership for the empire and 
  ensuring that any who might defy her understand the dire 
  consequences of treachery, Makeda formalized her rule 
  at the Abyssal Fortress amid the Stormlands. There, she 
  summoned the greatest leaders of the empire to attend 
  her and prostrate themselves before her, making it clear to 
  them she would not allow the skorne to become once more 
  Makeda & the exalted Court
  skorne epiC warloCk unit
  Her passage will scour the world and engrave her name upon the stones for all time. As the fires from 
  her conquest sweep the west they will unleash an ashen wind that will carry her name to all those 
  who must bow before her, or perish.  
  —Hakaar the Destroyer
   6 
  7 
  8 
  4 
  15 17 
  10
  MAKEDA
   
  POW 
  P+S
  TALON OF MURzOUL
   
  8 
  15
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  6 
  DAMAGE 
  16 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  MAKEDA & 2 ExAlTED GuARDiANS 
  WARbEAST POiNTS 
  +2 
  SMAll bASE
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  grounD Zero – Roll separately for each model pushed. 
  
  89
  
  90
  exalted guardian 
   construct
  Battle-Driven – When 
  a model in this unit is 
  damaged by an enemy 
  attack, after the attack is 
  resolved models in this 
  unit gain +2 STR and 
  ARM and Pathfinder 
   
  for one round. 
  Shield Guard – Once per 
  round, when a friendly 
  model is directly hit by a ranged attack during your opponent’s 
  turn while within 2˝ of this model, you can choose to have this 
  model directly hit instead. This model is automatically hit and 
  suffers all damage and effects. This model cannot use Shield 
  Guard if it is incorporeal, knocked down, or stationary. 
  sword 
   Magical Weapon
   6 
  7 
  8 
  3 
  12 18 
  10
  ExALTED GUARDIAN
   
  POW 
  P+S
  SWORD
   
  5 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  DAMAGE 
  5 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  SMAll bASE 
  Immoren, where their buildings now loom over the ruins 
  of the older empire they replaced and surpassed. Makeda 
  sees the Talon as the perfect weapon to represent her rule, 
  a connection to antiquity that will now be sent forth into 
  lands ripe for conquest. 
  The dominars and tyrants attending Makeda’s formal 
  investiture 
  witnessed 
  their 
  supreme 
  archdomina escorted by several exalted 
  guardians brought into her service as 
  a clear sign of deep ancestral favor. 
  Once more she had managed to 
  exceed anything done by her tarnished 
  predecessor, calling on the extoller 
  caste to bring honor to her rule while 
  also honoring the legacy of her peerless 
  house and its vaunted bloodline. The extollers 
  reviewed the great sacral stones of House 
  Balaash and selected from among them the greatest 
  heroes of the past, who were then given new life in stone 
  to stand beside her and serve as her inner guard. They are 
  tireless and infinitely loyal warriors and protectors sent 
  in pairs to accompany her in battle. Their presence is a 
  tangible sign of approval from some of the greatest warriors 
  and leaders in her house’s history. The impression they have 
  made on the soldiers of the Army of the Western Reaches has 
  only deepened the respect and awe the supreme archdomina’s 
  forces feel for her. It is said that some of these exalted spoke to 
  the extollers for the first time when given the opportunity to 
  join this court, showing an unusual interest in current events. 
  There is no question that in these conquests Makeda embodies 
  not simply all the living skorne but the dead as well. 
  
  91
  Makeda marched from the Abyssal Fortress alongside 
  her exalted court with the Army of the Western Reaches 
  to commit to new and grander battles in the west, looking 
  beyond the petty goals of the former Conqueror. The sight of 
  her wielding the ancient blade at the forefront together with 
  the greatest heroes of her house has inspired all who battle 
  in her name. Already Makeda was a living legend, but now 
  her eventual immortality as an exalted is assured. Her great 
  deeds are daily witnessed by those who see her invoking her 
  powers and standing peerless against her foes. She embodies 
  skorne history, the hoksune code, the pride of an entire 
  people, and their unquenchable desire for conquest. Many 
  now hope she will join the immortals and continue to rule 
  the empire in perpetuity. 
  Upon her return, Makeda turned her army upon the most 
  ancient enemies of the skorne: the elves of Ios. Advised by 
  the most prophetic and discerning of the ancestors, Makeda 
  knows Ios’ borders are presently weaker than they have 
  been in centuries, as its military forces are scattered and 
  divided abroad. This opportunity is an omen of historical 
  significance—destiny invites the skorne to subjugate those 
  who once thought themselves their superiors. Supreme 
  Archdomina Makeda has readied the Army of the Western 
  Reaches and gathered together the greatest minds, artifacts, 
  and soldiers for this great task. She will use all the powers at 
  her disposal to see the fortifications of Ios and the western 
  nations reduced to dust and their people enslaved to serve 
  the empire.
  
  92
  reptile hound 
  Flank [another Reptile 
  Hound] – When this model 
  makes a melee attack 
  against an enemy model 
  within the melee range of a 
  friendly model of the type 
  indicated, this model gains 
  +2 to attack rolls and gains 
  an additional damage die. 
  Lesser Warbeast – This 
  model cannot make power 
  attacks.
  TacTIcaL TIP
  slaughTerhouse – Because a boxed model is removed from play 
  before being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token.
  Since the skorne arrived 
  in 
  western 
  Immoren, 
  countless warriors and 
  slaves have met their 
  ends in the slavering 
  jaws of reptile hounds, 
  vicious 
  pack 
  hunters 
  the 
  skorne 
  enjoy 
  setting upon lone 
  warbeasts and enemy champions. Many foes have 
  been demoralized after seeing their mightiest 
  heroes or greatest beasts torn to pieces by a 
  pack of these scaled predators. Even the most 
  resilient creatures often find their natural 
  powers of regeneration no match for the 
  crushing strength of a reptile hound’s 
  jaws; a pack of them working in concert 
  can swiftly reduce even a hulking satyr 
  to a pile of bloody bones.
  The wastes of the Bloodstone Marches 
  breed fearsome creatures, and even the 
  smallest of its denizens are savage and 
  tenacious. Packs of wild reptile hounds 
  commonly appear in the trackless desert, 
  their numbers a testament to their vile 
  temperament and ability to prey upon the 
  other feral creatures with whom they share 
  their range. The hounds’ ferocity undoubtedly 
  explains their popularity among skorne rulers, 
  who keep them as pets and for blood sport. 
  Many tyrants serving in the Army of the 
  Western Reaches bring along reptile 
  hounds bred by the beast handlers of 
  their houses to serve as both symbols of 
  status and deadly tools of war.
  I’ve heard it said you can judge a people by how they treat their pets, but in the case of the skorne, 
  some consideration should be given to their choice of pets!
  —Professor Viktor Pendrake
   7 
  6 
  5 
  1 
  13 13 
  6
  REPTILE HOUND
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BITE
   
  2 
  8
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  slaughterhouse 
  1 
  self 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  This model gains Take Down. Slaughterhouse lasts for one turn. 
  (Models disabled by a melee attack made by a model with Take 
  Down cannot make a Tough roll. Models boxed by a melee 
  attack made by this model are removed from play.) 
  FuRy 
  2 
  ThREShOlD 
  8 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  2 
  SMAll bASE 
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  1
  2
  3
  4
  reptile hound
  skorne lesser warbeast
  
  93
  Despoiler
   Eyeless Sight
  Affinity [Mordikaar] – 
  While this model is in 
  Mordikaar’s control area, 
  it gains Dark Shroud. 
  (While in the melee range 
  of a model with Dark 
  Shroud, enemy models 
  suffer –2 ARM.) 
  Black Arts – A friendly 
  faction warlock with this 
  model in its control area can 
  upkeep one spell without 
  spending fury.
  Death Gate – Once per 
  round when a living enemy 
  warrior model is boxed 
  while within 2˝ of this 
  model, remove the boxed 
  model from play and replace 
  it with a Void Spirit model. 
  Inscrutable – Opponents 
  cannot take control of this 
  model. 
  Special Issue [Mordikaar] –  
  This model can be included 
  in Mordikaar’s theme 
  forces. It can also be bonded 
  to Mordikaar. 
  Claw 
   Open Fist
  Tail 
   Reach
  Critical Brutal Damage – On a critical hit, gain an additional die 
  on this weapon’s damage roll against the model directly hit. 
  Rear Attack – When declaring and resolving attacks with this 
  weapon, this model’s front arc extends to 360˚.
  TacTical Tip
  Special iSSue – This only gives the warlock the potential to bond to 
  the warbeast. It does not automatically add a bond. 
  ReaR attack – This does not enable this model to target models in 
  its back arc with charges. 
  The pulsing vitality of its heart is the engine by which the Void is made manifest.
  —Void Seer Mordikaar
   
   5 10 
  6 
  3 
  11 18 
  7
  Despoiler
   
  POW 
  P+S
  Claw
   
  POW 
  P+S
  Tail
   
  4 
  14
   
  3 
  13
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  A walking testament to the power of mortitheurgy, Despoiler 
  is as much a beast as it is an arcane implement through which 
  the Void howls. The product of unorthodox experimentation, 
  the beast is driven mad by the shrieking of damned souls. 
  Consequently it fights in a near-frenzy, smashing victims 
  to a pulp, though their deaths serve only to further fuel the 
  aNiMUs 
  CosT rNG aoe pow Up oFF
  arCaNe sUppressioN 2 
  selF 
  – 
  – 
  No No 
  While within 10˝ of this model, enemy models must pay 
  double fury and focus points to cast or upkeep spells. Arcane 
  Suppression lasts for one round. 
  FuRy 
  4 
  ThREShOlD 
  10 
  FiElD AllOWAnCE 
  C 
  POinT COST 
  10 
  lARgE BASE 
  Despoiler
  skorNe CharaCTer heavy warbeasT
  din in its mind. The abandon with which Despoiler 
  throws itself into combat might be taken to indicate 
  it wishes for its own end, but the creature is dimly 
  aware it would experience no release in oblivion 
  and relishes the violence of battle for its own sake.
  The enigmatic mortitheurge Mordikaar has twisted this beast 
  into a nefarious occult weapon. It is the focus and canvas 
  of a thousand twisted rites, rituals in which it becomes the 
  gateway to the Void, its living flesh a conduit for the profane 
  energies its master wishes to study and manipulate. Within 
  Despoiler dwell the tensions between life and death as the 
  beast is torn between Caen and the Void; woe to those who 
  approach this living precipice of annihilation.
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  B
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  n
  D
  6
  5
  1
  2
  3
  4
   
  POW 
  P+S
  Claw
   
  3 
  13
  l
  R
  
  94
  leader & grunts
   combined Ranged attack 
   Fearless 
  inCindus
   continuous Effect: Fire 
   Damage Type: Fire
  The soul of the warrior must be anointed in blood and cleansed with fire.
  —The Hoksune Code
   
   5 
  7 
  7 
  6 
  12 15 
  9
  LEADER & GRUNTS
  INCINDUS
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   10 
  1 
  3 
  12
   
  POW 
  P+S
  INCINDUS BLADE
   
  4 
  11
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  DAMAGE 
  8 EACh 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  lEADER & 3 GRuNTS 
  6 
  lEADER & 5 GRuNTS 
  9 
  MEDiuM bASE 
  CataphraCt inCindiarii
  skorne unit
  The armies of the Skorne 
  Empire 
  have 
  brought 
  naught but blood and fire 
  to western Immoren, and 
  the 
  mighty 
  incindiarii 
  specialize in those deadly 
  gifts. Marching at the 
  fore of the assault, they weather incoming enemy fire that 
  would shred more poorly armored soldiers. 
  These specialized Cataphracts take aim at their targets 
  with steely nerve and peerless discipline, opening fire 
  only when their commanding dakar knows the time is 
  right to inflict maximum devastation. With dull thuds, 
  their incindi discharge chymical rockets that roast alive 
  men and beast alike in a terrible conflagration. Any who 
  survive this onslaught and attempt to countercharge find 
  themselves no match for the skillfully wielded blades of the 
  incindiarii, who exult in the opportunity to demonstrate 
  their understanding of the hoksune warrior code.
  The incindiarii are a recently founded martial discipline. 
  Refusing to allow hoary tradition to limit her victories, 
  Supreme Archdomina Makeda recognized the need 
  for her armies to adapt for the broadening war in the 
  west. She ordered certain houses to contribute skilled 
  Cataphracts to form the ranks of the incindiarii. Their 
  weapon, the incindus, is the creation of skorne chymists 
  who were instructed to create a new weapon that both 
  used their lethal compounds and was worthy of the 
  proud Cataphracts. Even so, many incindiarii still prefer 
  to engage in the honor of close combat after firing their 
  deadly new devices.
  
  95
  Mortitheurge 
   commander
  Beast Master – This model 
  can force friendly Faction 
  warbeasts in its command 
  range as if it were their 
  controlling warlock. 
  Magic ability [7]
  • ancillary attack 
  (Haction) – RNG 5. Target friendly Faction warbeast. If the 
  warbeast is in range, it immediately makes one normal melee 
  or ranged attack. A warbeast can make an Ancillary Attack 
  special action only once per turn. 
  • Influence (Hattack) – Influence is a RNG 10 magic attack. 
  Take control of target enemy non-warcaster, non-warlock 
  warrior model hit. The model immediately makes one normal 
  melee attack, then Influence expires. 
  • Puppet Master (Haction or attack) – Puppet Master is a 
  RNG 10 spell. When it targets an enemy model/unit, it is a 
  magic attack. You can have one affected model reroll one or 
  more dice of your choice rolled for a command check, attack, 
  or damage roll, then Puppet Master expires. Puppet Master 
  lasts for one round.
  TacTIcaL TIP
  Magic abiliTy – Performing a Magic Ability special action or 
  special attack counts as casting a spell.
  Bearing the arrogant demeanor of those who have enslaved 
  the power of death, the mortitheurges known as willbreakers 
  are masters of torture and meditation. That they control the 
  great beasts of the skorne war host is perhaps the least of 
  their fearsome abilities, when compared to their influence 
  over the minds of others. 
  Through the long study of agony and death, willbreakers 
  learn to finely manipulate the transient energies released 
  by a body in pain and fear. Accordingly, they can reach 
  into the minds of others and reduce them to pawns. A 
  soldier who faces a willbreaker knows the roiling fear of 
  A mind open to pain is closed to weakness. A mind closed to pain is open to suggestion. 
  —Master Ascetic Naaresh
   6 
  5 
  5 
  4 
  13 13 
  9
  MORTITHEURGE 
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  uncertainty, that his own weapons might be turned 
  against his friends and allies or he might be forced 
  to lay down arms and placidly accept the blows 
  of the enemy. Few things can terrify a warrior 
  more than the stark realization that his fate is 
  not his own.
  Mortitheurgy, the occult mingling of the 
  energies of death upon the flesh, is one of the 
  most powerful weapons of the Skorne Empire. 
  Those skilled in its craft can wield tremendous 
  influence over the minds and flesh of others as 
  well as over their own bodies. Only the most 
  insidious practitioners of this art earn the right 
  to be named willbreakers. 
  It is a simple thing for these individuals to 
  manipulate the dull minds of beasts that 
  handlers have already roused in battle 
  through goads and pain hooks, however. 
  Their highest achievement lies in their 
  power to compel the minds of others 
  through meditation on agony. In battle they 
  hunt for soldiers intently focused on combat, 
  those who have weakened their minds by their narrow 
  focus, leaving them vulnerable to mental predations. With 
  a wave of agony empowered by the energies of death, 
  the willbreaker snatches control of his victim’s mind and 
  ruthlessly imposes his own imperatives upon it.
  DAMAGE 
  5
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2
  POiNT COST 
  2
  SMAll bASE
  Mortitheurge Willbreaker
  skorne solo
  
  96
  
  In the fourth day of the hunt we left behind the 
  scrublands of the desert’s eastern arm and entered the 
  tall grasses of the northern plains. Our titans hesitated at 
  this border, bellowing their refusal, and no goad or hook 
  could encourage them further. Leaving them with beast 
  handlers, I moved north with the remainder of my force, 
  including the pair of basilisks we had captured while 
  crossing the desert.
  Another day brought us closer to the looming northern 
  mountains, their peaks shrouded by dark clouds and plumes 
  of ash. Where the tall grass thinned, we found spoor and 
  tracks of prodigious size. The apprentices were unnerved, 
  and the mask-blind basilisks hissed and clawed at their 
  handlers, slashing one’s throat. We encamped nearby and 
  let the basilisks feed on the careless man’s flesh.
  The tracks continued north to a low rise. We crept forward, 
  and suddenly we heard a great din and sighted a cloud 
  of dust beyond. There I beheld a scene that will remain 
  with me all my days: a great hydra locked in battle with 
  a beast like a titan but of a size that would dwarf even 
  the proudest bronzeback. The creature plunged its tusks, 
  each the length of six skorne laid head to foot, through 
  the hydra’s armored scales, piercing it repeatedly as the 
  hydra hissed and chewed back, each vicious head striking 
  from a different angle. Both creatures were bathed in 
  blood. Even from hundreds of yards away we felt the 
  ground shake beneath us as these enormous adversaries 
  tore at one another. 
  The hydra seemed sure to prevail, as its flesh quickly 
  mended itself, but the mammoth beast pierced one of its 
  heads with a tusk and tore the throat completely open. 
  The creature then ripped every head from the hydra’s 
  body, one by one. With a great bellow, it pierced the body 
  a final time before feasting upon its vanquished foe.
  I watched in awe, knowing the greatest challenge of my 
  life lay ahead. To harness this beast would bring singular 
  honor to House Kursorik and ensure my exaltation.
  MaMMoth
  froM the annals of 
  Master beast handler 
  xel of house kursorik, 
  4098 eM (231 ar)
  97
  
  —
  98
  MaMMoth 
  assault – As part of a 
  charge, after moving but 
  before making its charge 
  attack, this model can make 
  one ranged attack targeting 
  the model charged unless 
  they were in melee with 
  each other at the start of this 
  model’s activation. When 
  resolving an Assault ranged 
  attack, the attacking model 
  does not suffer the target 
  in melee penalty. If the 
  target is not in melee range 
  after moving, this model 
  must still make the Assault 
  ranged attack before its 
  activation ends.  
  Bulldoze – When this 
  model advances into B2B 
  contact with an enemy 
  model during its activation, 
  it can push that model up 
  to 2˝ directly away from it. A model can be pushed by Bulldoze 
  only once per activation. Bulldoze has no effect when this model 
  makes a trample power attack. 
  tusks 
  critical Pitch – On a critical hit, instead of rolling damage 
  normally you can choose to have this model throw the model 
  hit. Treat the throw as if this model had hit with and passed the 
  STR check of a throw power attack. The thrown model suffers a 
  damage roll with POW equal to this model’s STR plus the POW 
  of this weapon. The POW of collateral damage is equal to this 
  model’s STR. 
  war gauntlet 
   Open Fist
  Never truly tamed, mammoths reign as one of the most 
  destructive forces known to the skorne. Even experienced 
  beast handlers consider their capture among the greatest 
  challenges they can confront. Besides raw strength and an 
  ornery temperament, the immense beasts possess natural 
  weaponry capable of goring to death any wild threat. 
  Armed and armored, these living siege engines can wreak 
  unparalleled destruction.
  The vast Valley of Kornash in the Northern Tor of the 
  Skorne Empire is bordered by foreboding mountains to 
  the north and the Blasted Desert to the west. A relatively 
  lush area, it remains largely unexploited by the skorne 
  because of the tremendous and lethal creatures, including 
  mammoths, that thrive in its uncharted expanses. 
  Although distant cousins to the smaller titans found to 
  the south, mammoths differ from titans in many ways 
  beyond mere size, most obviously the massive armored 
  crests growing from their resilient skulls. Experienced 
  beast handlers conjecture the two species share a 
  common ancestry, but the mammoth’s fiercely aggressive 
  disposition and omnivorous diet indicate its lineage is 
  separate. Small mammoth herds range over territory 
  that overlaps with that of the vicious hydra, and the two 
  species clash brutally where they encounter one another. 
  It is often difficult to determine which is the predator and 
  which is the prey.
  Mammoths have been known to the skorne for more than a 
  dozen generations, but the risks and expense of capturing 
  and housing them have kept them out of reach of all but 
  the most powerful houses. Besides the staggering cost of 
  feed there regularly is also the price paid in the structural 
  damage they inflict and in slain handlers. Mammoths are 
  almost impossible to breed in captivity, so they must be 
  seized in the wild and transported across hundreds of 
  miles. In order to restrain them, teams of beast handlers 
  add powerful soporifics to their feed and insert harnesses 
  for pain hooks and controlling blades into the drugged 
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  assaulT – The assaulting model ignores the target in melee penalty 
  even if is not in melee range of its charge target after moving.
  With its appetite for destruction, one might think it could thrive on carnage alone.
  —Dominar Rasheth
   4 15 
  6 
  3 
  8 
  20 
  6
  MAMMOTH
  SIEGE BATTERy
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   10 
  3 
  4 
  15
   
  POW 
  P+S
  TUSKS
   
  3 
  18
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WAR GAUNTLET
   
  4 
  19
  aniMus 
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  Counterblast 
  2 
  self 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  When an enemy model advances and ends its movement in this 
  model’s command range, this model can make one normal melee 
  or ranged attack targeting that model, then Counterblast expires. 
  Counterblast lasts for one round.  
  FuRy 
  5 
  ThREShOlD 
  9 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  POiNT COST 
  20 
  huGE bASE 
  MaMMoth
  skorne gargantuan
  h
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WAR GAUNTLET
   
  4 
  19
  l
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  P
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  D
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  4
  1
  2
  
  99
  beasts’ hides. When even these precautions fail, as they 
  often do, the mammoths may awaken prematurely, 
  inevitably to erupt in a frenzy of motion and decimate 
  any nearby.
  When Vinter Raelthorne IV led the Army of the Western 
  Reaches against Cygnar, he forbade the skorne from 
  bringing their mammoths with them, citing the strength 
  of the bridges that traverse the Abyss as insufficient to 
  bear the beasts’ weight. After deposing Vinter, Supreme 
  Archdomina Makeda discovered this to be false. Clearly, 
  the Conqueror had feared that mammoths among the 
  Army of the Western Reaches might have allowed the 
  skorne to advance too quickly into the west and gain an 
  advantage he was not prepared to allow. Since learning of 
  this deception, Makeda has authorized the empire’s beast 
  handlers to send mammoths west to join the vanguard of 
  her army.
  At the direction of Dominar Rasheth, House Telarr has 
  led the way in heeding Makeda’s directive. Retaining the 
  most skilled paingivers and beast handlers available, the 
  house has begun to develop and employ new chymical 
  admixtures and excruciation techniques. Rasheth knows 
  better than most the great profit and influence to be had by 
  exploiting these beasts for war, well worth the risks and cost 
  of securing them. 
  The skorne have long considered mammoths to be the 
  perfect platforms upon which to haul their great cannons 
  to war. Training mammoths to aim and fire the weapons 
  proved considerably more difficult than with titans, but 
  their size and strength enable them to carry even larger 
  ordnance, allowing skorne military engineers to push the 
  limits of possibility. Under the supreme archdomina’s 
  direction, empire-funded weaponsmiths invented a 
  multibarreled, self-reloading mechanism that represents 
  an unprecedented level of sophistication in skorne 
  armament.
  Such weapons possess a rate of fire that exceeds the limits 
  of a mammoth’s natural coordination. When commanded 
  by a skorne warlock, however, the beasts can lay down an 
  earth-shattering fusillade capable of annihilating enemy 
  formations and fortifications. Left to its own inclinations, 
  a mammoth prefers either to close on the nearest enemy 
  and smash him with its war gauntlets or to gore nearby foes 
  with its tusks and hurl their broken bodies through the air.
  
  100
  The Silvertip Peaks of Rhul
  flight of angels
  Vayl stood regally in a central position at the edge of 
  the wide basin where the largest of her great spawning 
  cauldrons had been embedded. She endeavored to achieve 
  the proper mental state to oversee the powerful blighted 
  energies that would soon be manifested by their combined 
  efforts but directed by her will. Some resentment lingered 
  in her mind regarding the necessity of this rite, mostly 
  from her lack of involvement to this point. She pushed that 
  thought away, focusing on the fact that ultimately she was 
  responsible for what would transpire. Her frustrations she 
  channeled into determination to prove her unique mastery 
  at overseeing the efforts of the gathered Nyss sorcerers.
  Occasionally she was reminded that she had joined her 
  mind with an entity possessed of a vast intelligence and 
  boundless creativity. There was no question Everblight 
  was a visionary. She had not entirely understood that 
  several years ago when she had bound her fate to his. 
  Then, spurred by her visions, she had seen him primarily 
  as a font of power, an ally that would facilitate her grand 
  ambitions. There had since been moments when she was 
  reminded how small she was and how brief her lifespan in 
  comparison to the dragon.
  It had begun after Kallus had brought her the teeth of 
  Pyromalfic he had recovered in his mission to the south. 
  She had thought the task she had set him to be impossible; 
  deep down she had even hoped for his destruction. But 
  though he had returned with less of Pyromalfic’s remains 
  than instructed, the mission was deemed a success. In the 
  process Kallus had accidentally stumbled upon the ritual 
  chambers of an Iosan dragon cult. Vayl could sense the 
  tome recovered from this site fascinated Everblight and 
  longed to pore over its secrets, but she did not dare risk 
  the dragon’s ire by asking him of it. 
  Instead she had welcomed Kallus, congratulated him, 
  and taken the collection of Pyromalfic’s teeth. Each was 
  as long as her forearm, though they had been taken from 
  the lesser, inside, row of that tremendous creature’s jaws. 
  Any of its primary fangs would have dwarfed these. 
  While she would have preferred to have the greater fangs 
  along with the skull itself, she had immediately begun 
  crafting the scrying implement she had foreseen, one 
  intended to allow them to better track the movements 
  of the other dragons as well as of the most blighted of 
  Toruk’s undead generals.
  She had just begun work on the spherical metal lattice 
  when plans had changed. Without warning, Everblight 
  had occupied her mind and peered through her eyes. She 
  could hardly breathe, so overpowering was the sensation 
  of the dragon filling her and holding her body still,  his 
  attention focused on the teeth she held. She could not resist 
  as he applied pressure in her mind to places she did not 
  consciously know, forcing her to enter the trance-like state 
  she preferred when working arcane rituals, particularly 
  oracular portents. 
  Focusing on this sight she had watched the play of residual 
  blighted energies that permeated and continually flowed 
  through the teeth. They were far less intense than similar 
  energies found in blood enriched by an athanc, and at first 
  Vayl could not understand Everblight’s intent. She felt 
  as though she were plunging into the complex, rippling 
  patterns of subtle energies and soon could see the way they 
  had first been layered, imprinting a transformation from 
  energy to substance as the dragon’s body came into being 
  with bones that were relatively light and yet impossibly 
  durable. It was as though she was taken back to the first 
  forming of the dragon’s flesh and blood and bones from 
  the raw athanc. She had sensed how badly Everblight felt 
  the urge to allow this process to happen with his own flesh, 
  torn from him centuries ago. But it was not for this reason 
  he had come to her. Some chain of thoughts had cascaded 
  within the labyrinthine vault of Everblight’s mind, keyed 
  to these bones, and he had been too occupied with them 
  to explain to her, almost too much to allow her to breathe. 
  Paralyzed, she had begun to panic.
  Legion of eveRbLight
  
  101
  At last the sense of presence dispersed and left her in 
  control of her body again. She had just regained her 
  composure after several deep breaths when Thagrosh 
  strode impatiently into her chambers, his eyes blazing with 
  intensity. He had seemed to loom before her in his bulk, 
  his wings partially extended. He had held out his larger 
  clawed hand and demanded, “Pyromalfic’s remains.”
  She had known he spoke with Everblight’s voice, not that 
  she would have been in a position to deny him either 
  way. She had done as bid and watched him scoop up the 
  blighted teeth. Resentment had stirred within her at the 
  thought that her own project was not to be. She had said, 
  “I was about to complete the vital work I described. You 
  saw its worth.”
  He had already turned to leave but paused. “That can 
  come about at some future moment. Now I have better 
  use for these. Come with me, and I shall show you. A new 
  spawn is about to arise.”
  Despite Vayl’s sense of loss she had soon been swept up 
  in the vision of Everblight’s newest creation, a creature 
  closer in nature and size to the dragons than anything 
  ever attempted, even in the times of Morrdh. Dragon 
  bones were the key, a catalyst allowing a transformation 
  less reliant on the blood of warlocks. She had to believe 
  this idea had long been brewing in Everblight’s mind. 
  Why else had he indulged Thagrosh’s recent desire for 
  slaughter amid the Rhulic mountains? 
  The corpses gathered during his last rampage were piled 
  onto wagons, hauled to the spawning site by blighted 
  Nyss swordsmen and nephilim, then poured into the 
  great cauldron. The stench of blood and rotting flesh was 
  redolent as Thagrosh signaled her to begin the rite. She 
  stood at the southern end of the charnel pit, with him to 
  the north. He opened the veins of his forearm to spill the 
  dragon’s blood and let it mingle with the tissues of lesser 
  creatures, recently slain.
  Kallus stood between them on the western edge, Absylonia 
  opposite on the east. Vayl raised her arms and began the 
  invocations, then opened a wrist so her blood joined his. 
  The blackish-red liquid steamed in the cold air and began 
  to react with the baser materials. At Thagrosh’s nod, Kallus 
  and Absylonia joined in the rite, contributing their blood. 
  Soon their voices were raised in chanting intonations, 
  while Vayl and her sorcerers channeled the blighted 
  energies and activated the silver-inlaid runes of the great 
  cauldron. The flesh within the basin began to churn and 
  smoke, to settle and flow as if possessed of a life of its own. 
  Then Thagrosh took one of Pyromalfic’s teeth and hurled 
  it into the depths of the undulating liquid. 
  The thick, incarnadine fluid trembled and quivered as 
  ripples spread from the dragon bone. Vayl could feel the 
  blighted energies focusing along mystical lines defined by 
  the runes set into the cauldron, each of them igniting with 
  a white fire below the churning mass. She could not take 
  her eyes from Thagrosh. He stood opposite, frozen in a 
  posture of anticipation, with the light of Everblight burning 
  in his eyes. The dragon was within all four of them, and 
  then it seemed as if they were swept aside as their master 
  controlled the shape of the flesh taking form below them. 
  With a high-pitched, ear-rending shriek the first archangel 
  launched into the sky, trailing gore and casting residual 
  blighted energies behind it as its wings stroked the air. Its 
  size and grace were beyond her imagining, and it was not 
  only Everblight’s presence behind her eyes that kept her 
  breath at bay. It seemed a dragon in miniature, albeit like 
  all spawn lacking a true dragon’s piercing eyes and relying 
  instead on other senses to perceive the world.
  Nor was Everblight finished, as Thagrosh shouted orders 
  to the nearest deacons and additional corpses were 
  tumbled into the basin and its cauldron. The process 
  began once more as the first archangel circled above. 
  Three more times one of Pyromalfic’s teeth was hurled 
  into the churning depths, three more times the warlocks 
  bled, until Vayl began to feel faint. Long work at other 
  occult rites had conditioned her to the strain, though, and 
  she held firm, knowing her subordinate sorcerers must 
  see her as implacable. She was not immune to a sense of 
  wonder and awe as she looked up at the quartet of peerless 
  dragonspawn. They shrieked with Everblight’s voice and 
  stretched their wings, then came down to feast upon what 
  remained of the charnel piles gathered for their birthing. 
  Vayl knew Kallus had recovered more than four teeth from 
  Pyromalfic. Certainly even now Everblight was calculating 
  and scheming, deciding whether he could divide those 
  remaining fragments and repeat this spawning with less 
  material, determining how best to strengthen his army. 
  The cauldron’s runes had blazed with such intensity that 
  the metal walls began to buckle. As they distended, the 
  blighted energies they directed were likewise disrupted. 
  Vayl knew her subordinates would need to repair and 
  improve the spawning basin and could already see ways 
  this might be accomplished.
  with a high-pitChed,    
  ear-rending shriek the first 
  arChangel launChed  
  into the sky, trailing gore .
  
  102
  She became aware of the approach of another bearing 
  Everblight’s essence. She looked up to see that Lylyth had 
  entered the southern end of the mountainous valley where 
  they made their temporary fastness. Above Lylyth flew 
  five seraphim and a trio of angelii, while behind her came 
  nephilim and her complement of striders and archers, 
  stretched out in a long line. 
  Vayl saw approvingly that those she had sent to hasten 
  Lylyth’s arrival had delivered to her the custom-built war 
  sleigh. Lylyth now drove across the ice standing atop a 
  platform set atop long sharp blades, while the blighted 
  ulk pulling it raced forward with augmented strength 
  and endurance, churning frost beneath their hooves. 
  Such sleighs had once been a traditional asset of the 
  greatest Nyss tribes. This one had been augmented with 
  Vayl’s sorcery to expedite the passage of the Reckoning 
  of Everblight.
  This too had been according to Everblight’s commands; 
  he intended for Lylyth to take the new spawn and 
  hasten south toward the impending confrontation 
  against the Cryxians over the athanc they sought to 
  bring to Toruk. There was little formality to Lylyth’s 
  arrival, as all present knew the urgency of her mission. 
  She swept forward upon her sleigh and then leapt off 
  to approach the archangels still feasting on the last 
  corpses. Already they had added to their mass, and 
  their muscles thickened with an alacrity no natural 
  thing could replicate. This growth was fast even by the 
  standards of Everblight’s spawn, thanks to the qualities 
  of Absylonia’s exceptionally mutagenic blood.
  As Lylyth approached them it became even clearer how 
  greatly these spawn towered over any others. She reached 
  out with one hand, and one by one the four archangels 
  obeyed the inborn imperative to heed a warlock bearing 
  a fragment of Everblight. They clustered around her, their 
  jaws dripping bloody gore, and then inclined their great 
  heads, wings spread for balance. Lylyth touched each in 
  turn, as if accepting their homage, and thereby swiftly 
  completed the bonding ceremony. Vayl felt a small twinge 
  of envy that she would not be taking charge of one of these 
  first spawned creatures, but she knew more would spawn 
  soon enough. Lylyth’s mission had priority.
  Saeryn and Rhyas had been sent to make the initial 
  strike against the Cryxian column, but it was expected 
  they would be insufficient to recover the prize without 
  additional support. All Everblight’s warlocks felt the 
  desire to go forth conflicting with the need to avoid the 
  peril of keeping too many shards of his athanc in one 
  place. Even this gathering felt dangerous, and Vayl knew 
  they would soon scatter again. The need for caution was 
  reinforced by the knowledge that Blighterghast’s alliance 
  of dragons might move against them at any time.
  Vayl felt a shock through her body and a sickening dread. 
  The tendons in her neck went rigid, and she spun her head 
  to look to the southeast. The athanc shard in her breast 
  seemed for a moment to become like ice, and she gasped 
  and clutched a hand to her chest against the sudden pain. 
  She became aware of a distant shape on the horizon, 
  above the mountains and swiftly growing larger. She had 
  the sudden fear that her thoughts about the dragons had 
  somehow summoned it. 
  There was an unearthly roar in the distance that echoed 
  across the peaks. Everblight recognized the creature 
  that flew toward them, and the sight stirred fury and 
  fear in equal measure. The sense of identity along with 
  Everblight’s reaction spread through his warlocks like a 
  thunderclap. “Charsaug, twin of ashnephos, both onCe 
  erdross.” Instantly they shared the knowledge of the 
  dragons of eastern Immoren, never before seen by mortal 
  eyes in the west, summoned from his distant lair by the 
  call of Blighterghast. Everblight knew Charsaug had seen 
  the spawning of the archangels and had felt compelled to 
  investigate. The possibility of their destruction was at hand.
  Lylyth had only just completed her bonding rite with the 
  archangels when she heard the roar and felt Everblight’s 
  searing reaction through her athanc shard. She leapt 
  immediately onto her sleigh, taking her bow from where it 
  was strapped. She gave a shout to the ulks to impel them 
  forward, and soon they were galloping. As an expert rider 
  and warlock, she needed no reins to direct the creatures. 
  Charsaug had seen the long column of blighted Nyss along 
  the valley entrance and banked to veer down and sweep 
  through the air above them, flying low with his great 
  wings spread out to either side. The oncoming draconic 
  presence seemed to press down upon the valley, darkening 
  the air and giving it a leaden quality. It was difficult to 
  gain a proper appreciation for the scale of the dragon until 
  he opened his massive maw and unleashed a roiling cloud 
  of liquid fire that flowed along the snow-covered valley 
  like lava disgorged from a volcano. 
  he opened his Massive Maw and 
  unleashed a roiling Cloud of 
  liquid fire that flowed along 
  the snow-Covered valley .
  
  103
  Where the fire blazed, ice and snow became scalding steam 
  and the frozen ground ignited. An entire swath of blighted 
  archers were annihilated in the superheated flames. Those 
  at the perimeter were lit afire and perished more slowly, 
  screaming in pain. A tremendous volley of arrows were 
  launched against the dragon from those remaining, both 
  archers and the striders that had swiftly raced toward the 
  perimeter. A hundred sharp projectiles flew up to meet the 
  great creature, but most deflected harmlessly off its scales. 
  Others flew astray, caught in the winds generated by the 
  massive wings. 
  Lylyth raced toward the Nyss on her sleigh, feeling a 
  rush of combined rage and fear. Her spawn had launched 
  aloft again when first she had taken to the sleigh. They, 
  at least, were immune to fear, being too pure of essence 
  to know the folly of loosing their bestial rage against an 
  infinitely greater creature. At the fore sped the lightest 
  seraphs in a diamond formation, with the angelii behind 
  them. Following with tremendous beats of wings came 
  the gargantuan archangels, flying low and closer to the 
  warlock to whom they were bound. 
  She sped toward certain death. Whereas another might 
  have been cowed or frozen by this thought, to her it held 
  a certain manic joy, a challenge and defiance she could not 
  have put in words. It was the same feeling she felt waging 
  battle while outnumbered against the humans who had 
  killed her father, the same she had felt when Thagrosh 
  had brought her so close to death before piercing her heart 
  with Everblight’s athanc shard.
  She nocked not one but three arrows and allowed her 
  mind and spirit to enter the flying spawn as they swept 
  the cold air. She hastened toward the screaming dragon 
  with the exhilaration of one who had fallen off a cliff and 
  knew the bliss of flight for several long seconds before 
  being crushed against the rocks below.
  There had been an immediate burst of wordless 
  communication across the athanc shards of the other 
  warlocks. Thagrosh had initially started to advance, 
  Rapture in hand, filled with the desire to do battle. It was 
  his nature to embody Everblight’s rage and pride. It was 
  Vayl who embodied the dragon’s more calculating side 
  and who called to him to stop. Seeing the other dragon had 
  awakened an ancient fighting instinct in him, one Everblight 
  had to extinguish in the name of survival. Kallus, a brash 
  mirror to his father, also burned to join the blighted Nyss 
  and hurl himself against this ancient sibling, but he too was 
  frozen by Vayl’s voice of command. Absylonia had moved 
  closer to Thagrosh protectively, her spawn gathering. Never 
  before had Lylyth been so aware of the fragmented but 
  indivisible mind of Everblight, how each of them was an 
  incomplete reflection of a greater whole.
  Vayl coordinated with Kallus and Absylonia to ensure 
  Thagrosh’s safety. They could not expose so great a portion 
  of Everblight’s essence to this dragon. Despite Thagrosh’s 
  turmoil he acquiesced to hasten away from Charsaug 
  toward the narrower mountain valleys to the north. The 
  time would come for him to take part in the looming battles 
  to the south, but not yet. There were caves nearby large 
  enough to accommodate the three warlocks, their spawn, 
  and the soldiers of his honor guard. The dragon would 
  find it difficult to follow into those narrow passages. Vayl 
  stood unmoving and focused her concentrated power 
  toward Lylyth, clearly choosing not to close on the dragon 
  personally. She had opted to assist with her power from 
  a distance, giving Everblight another viewpoint, another 
  channel for his blight.
  With the security of most of his athanc shards assured, 
  Lylyth was cast forth like one of her own arrows. They 
  all shared a simultaneous awareness that she was being 
  expended: a necessary sacrifice. She could not hope to stand 
  against Charsaug except to distract him momentarily from 
  the others. Everblight had no wish of giving the dragon 
  even the slightest taste of his athanc, but they knew she 
  would likely not return. 
  Everblight was suddenly with her in full, joined to her as 
  one, not preventing her from acting but augmenting her 
  every motion with his power. Her limbs blazed with an 
  aura of blackened fire. Her mind could stretch out far past 
  her normal limits to control her spawn, and she allowed 
  them to surge ahead. The seraphim and angelii were her 
  talons, the archangels her teeth.
  Charsaug banked and was coming in for another pass as 
  Lylyth raced her war sleigh through the ranks of archers 
  and striders, many of whom turned and rallied behind her, 
  readying bows as they witnessed her reckless advance. She 
  shouted orders to them, directing them to focus their fire. 
  She felt freshly invigorated by Everblight’s presence. It had 
  been too long since he had walked in her skin like this. 
  A hundred bows stretched back with arrows nocked even 
  as Lylyth raised her own and her ulk raced along the snow-
  packed ground, the sleigh slicing through the landscape. 
  The dragon glided past again to deliver another blazing 
  gout, and Lylyth and her ulks veered to the right, narrowly 
  evading destruction. The dragon was surrounded by a 
  never before had lylyth  
  been so aware of the 
  fragMented but indivisible 
  Mind of everblight .
  
  104
  shrieking wind, and the air roared as it turned forge-hot  
  against Charsaug’s scales, which themselves pulsed with 
  inner heat. 
  The dragon banked and veered off as it focused on the 
  dragonspawn soaring toward it. It unleashed another 
  warlike bellow as if daring the lesser creatures to fly 
  against it. Everblight radiated keen anticipation at the 
  thought of observing his newest and greatest spawn battle 
  the dragon. This was why they had been created. No other 
  dragon had seen spawn like this, not in all the millennia 
  of their existence.
  Lylyth knew battle at a distance would be fruitless and so 
  sent her spawn directly at Charsaug, hoping most might 
  survive to latch onto the dragon where they could lash 
  and claw at its nearly impervious hide. The archangels 
  she held back slightly, reserving them to follow as the 
  seraphim closed. The angelii she sent higher into the sky, 
  their wings churning. 
  As they neared, the seraphim let loose great bursts of 
  heated fire, striking Charsaug as he flew toward them, 
  his eyes gleaming hungrily. The blasts of blighted energy 
  scintillated off scales in waterfalls of sparks, fire, and 
  smoke. Yet in several places small patches of flames stuck 
  and continued to blaze. Each dragon’s blight was different, 
  its fire unique, and none was entirely immune to the fury 
  of its siblings. Charsaug could bathe in the molten lava of 
  a volcano unharmed, yet the fire of Everblight brought an 
  unfamiliar sting. 
  The dragon had changed its course but was still just low 
  enough in the sky for the next gathered volley of Lylyth 
  and her soldiers to soar upward and intersect its flight. 
  Lylyth continued to fire arrows at blinding speed from her 
  bow, each barbed point expertly lofted to pierce sections of 
  flesh where the scales were thin. She sought to penetrate 
  muscles and tendons attached to the wings. Empowered 
  by Everblight, more of the arrows struck home. 
  Charsaug did not react to the needling of dozens of 
  arrows, nor to the patches of fire, but swept his wings 
  down and to bring his massive saurian  body upward 
  and swat with his great claws at the closing seraphim. 
  Great talons raked through dragonspawn and left 
  gaping rents from nose to tail. Wings were shorn off, 
  throats torn open, and entrails left to spill across the 
  snowy landscape as the beasts were sent plummeting 
  to the ground. Nevertheless, several others managed 
  to latch on to the dragon. They clawed and bit, forcing 
  Charsaug to contort himself and stalling his forward 
  momentum, before another was scraped free to tumble 
  to its doom. 
  Lylyth’s angelii fell upon the dragon from on high like 
  falcons descending on a massive eagle. She urged the 
  archangels up as well, now that the dragon’s attention 
  was diverted. Their wings scooped the air and they hurled 
  themselves skyward, creating a wind that swept through 
  the archers and striders. Lylyth rode forward beneath 
  them, nocking more arrows and firing repeatedly, her 
  hands a blur.
  More seraphim were raked apart, and Charsaug let loose 
  a great bellow and sent fire down once again. It struck a 
  burning swath across one of the largest clusters of blighted 
  Nyss, bathing one of the seraphs as well. The fire consumed 
  and destroyed everything it touched. 
  The dragon flew higher in quick sweeps of his wings, 
  either tiring of the pricks of arrows or seeking a better 
  vantage. In doing so he looked up to see the angelii on 
  their descent, with razor-sharpened tails thrust down 
  before them. Charsaug lunged his head to catch one 
  whole between his jaws. Its razored tail pierced through 
  his lower jaw, but the spawn was obliterated in a frenzy 
  of gnashing teeth. The other two angelii adjusted on 
  multiple wings to pierce the dragon near the base of 
  his neck, where the wings joined, thrusting deeply into 
  the muscles and tissues. Lylyth thought of the attack 
  on Pyromalfic but knew these strikes to be insufficient 
  to bring down the dragon. Charsaug’s flesh had been 
  pierced—brackish blood poured forth—but his wings 
  were still strong. There was no sign he would soon 
  tumble to the earth.
  The dragon twisted in midair, spinning so gracefully it 
  seemed impossible, sending the angelii tumbling away, 
  one nearly shorn in half. The other managed to recover 
  by spreading its wings, but Charsaug opened his mouth 
  and spat an enormous flaming ball that exploded into the 
  angelius to blast a gaping hole through its center, and soon 
  the spawn’s body was consumed. 
  The falling and burning remains of the second angelius 
  hit one of the archangels in a glancing blow, unbalancing 
  it, but it quickly resumed its rise. Four of Everblight’s 
  greatest spawn, the group roared a challenge and closed on 
  Charsaug. Fire blazed from their mouths as Lylyth urged 
  them closer. She could feel Everblight delighting in the 
  display of draconic carnage. Borrowed ancient memories 
  stirred in her mind. Connected to his rage was the memory 
  no other dragon had seen 
  spawn like this, not in all the 
  Millennia of their existenCe .
  
  105
  of the armies of Ios and their focused firepower upon 
  his wings. Through Lylyth, he sought to inflict a similar 
  punishment on Charsaug.
  The dragon had gained enough altitude that Lylyth’s 
  arrows could no longer reach his armored hide. Only 
  Everblight’s spawn could match him. She ordered the 
  archers and striders to flee toward Thagrosh and safety as 
  quickly as they could run. 
  The first archangel reached Charsaug and set upon him, 
  biting onto the upper thigh of his left rear leg and then 
  raking with its claws. The others flew upward, trying to 
  reach the wings. Charsaug let loose a terrible roar that 
  echoed from one end of the valley to the other as he clawed 
  and raked, battering the gargantuan spawn even as they 
  sought to evade. Lylyth lost herself in the minds of the 
  beasts even as she called on the power of Everblight to 
  strengthen their attacks, Blighted fire burned her skin as 
  she accepted more power than she could contain. She saw 
  scales ripped loose from Charsaug, spilling his blood, but 
  knew these injuries were superficial. 
  Three of the archangels pulled away as Charsaug lashed 
  out and tore into the one that had latched onto his rear 
  leg, raking great wounds along its back and ripping one of 
  its wings loose. As he climbed higher, Charsaug reached 
  down and bit through its neck, savaging it with a rough 
  shake. The archangel fell loose and tumbled to strike 
  heavily amid the hills east of Lylyth, who was turning her 
  ulk around. Arrows nocked and ready, she was hoping the 
  spawn might drive the dragon lower. This would be the 
  moment, she knew. Her blood ran cold at the swiftness 
  with which the dragon had killed one of her great spawn. 
  As mighty as they were, four would not suffice to bring 
  down a creature of such power. It would annihilate in turn, 
  and then it would come for Lylyth on swift wings. 
  She knew the dragon’s strength through Everblight’s 
  mind. His cold assessment was indisputable. They could 
  injure Charsaug, yes, but not defeat him. Yet as she 
  watched, the dragon suddenly gave a great sweep of his 
  wings and launched himself away from the surviving 
  archangels. He folded his wings to plunge toward the 
  earth to gather speed and then unfurled them and swept 
  them in several great beats to propel himself rapidly away 
  from the valley. His speed was well beyond that of any of 
  the dragonspawn, and Everblight did not urge her to give 
  chase. Lylyth wheeled her sleigh around and summoned 
  her remaining dragonspawn back to her, watching the 
  dragon disappear quickly into the distance. A sense of 
  startled triumph began to fill her.
  Through her bond, Lylyth felt understanding dawn. 
  Charsaug had tasted mortality at the claws and teeth of 
  Everblight’s spawn and would not risk even the smallest 
  possibility of defeat. Such was the way with dragons. 
  Confronted by an unknown enemy he had opted to preserve 
  himself rather than fight. The sense of glory in Everblight’s 
  mind filled his warlocks. They knew, as did Everblight, the 
  injured dragon would speak of them to the others of the 
  great alliance—those gathered by Blighterghast. Whatever 
  plans the dragon alliance was hatching, they would be 
  accelerated. Of that there was no doubt.
  For now, their greatest spawn had turned away a dragon. 
  Lylyth felt drained, utterly spent as if all emotion had 
  been siphoned away. Everblight’s will filled her mind. 
  She was to hasten south with the surviving archangels 
  and all her remaining forces. There was still a loose athanc 
  to claim, and the stakes were now higher than ever. This 
  imperative stirred her blood once more and she prepared 
  to do as bid.
  Charsaug let loose a terrible 
  roar that eChoed froM one end 
  of the valley to the other as he 
  Clawed and raked, battering the 
  gargantuan spawn .
  
  —
  l
  R
  106
  feat: the reaping 
  Lylyth can harness the 
  blighted energies of Everblight 
  to leech the warmth from 
  her enemies and replace 
  it with the cold touch of 
  imminent death. Guided by 
  the attacks of her allies, this 
  power renders her enemies 
  helpless before the Legion’s 
  slaughterous advance. 
  When an enemy model is 
  directly hit by a ranged 
  attack made by a friendly 
  Faction model while the 
  friendly Faction model is 
  in Lylyth’s control area, 
  the enemy model suffers 
  Death Chill. The Reaping 
  lasts for one turn. (A 
  model suffering Death 
  Chill must forfeit either its 
  movement or action on its 
  next activation.) 
  lylyth 
   Eyeless Sight
  Battle Engine – This model is a battle engine and is not a 
  warrior model. 
  Power attack Trample – This model can make trample power 
  attacks. 
  Weapon Platform – This model can make melee and ranged 
  attacks in the same activation. When this model makes its initial 
  melee attacks or a power attack, it can also make its initial 
  ranged attacks. This model can make ranged attacks even while 
  in melee. 
  whisper 
   Magical Weapon
  Blood Boon – Once per activation, immediately after resolving 
  an attack in which it destroyed a living enemy model with this 
  weapon, this model can cast a spell with COST 3 or less without 
  spending fury. 
  auto Fire [3] – Make 3 ranged attacks targeting a primary 
  target and any number of secondary targets within 2˝ of the first 
  target. Ignore intervening models when declaring secondary 
  targets. A secondary target cannot be targeted by more attacks 
  than the primary target. Auto Fire counts as one attack for ROF.  
  Rear attack – When declaring and resolving attacks with this 
  weapon, this model’s front arc extends to 360˚. 
  sCything blades 
  Threshing Blades – This model can add this weapon’s POW to 
  its trample power attack damage rolls. 
  Those who would oppose Everblight’s will must stand 
  ready to pay a heavy cost, and it is Lylyth, the dragon’s 
  Reckoning, who will exact that price. Those few who 
  have survived Lylyth’s raids speak of the susurration 
  of runners on frozen ground and the ominous keening 
  noise in the air. As the first arrows strike, that sound is 
  revealed to be wind whistling along the cruelly barbed 
  blades and across the overlapping metal scales protecting 
  the carriage of her war sleigh as it is swiftly pulled across 
  the snow by powerful ulks, their horns lowered to smash 
  through anything in their path.
  Since her second rebirth in the dragon’s service, Lylyth has 
  lived without the slightest fear of death. She ranges far from 
  the main body of the Legion, preferring to command the 
  swiftest hunters and dragonspawn so she can exploit the 
  speed of her war sleigh. Traditional to Nyss hunters, such 
  sleighs were once used to terrorize the mountain villages of 
  the northern Khadorans. Lylyth has adopted its use within 
  the Legion to represent her place as the pre-eminent tracker 
  and killer among a people famed for such skills.
  Lylyth’s focused dedication to Everblight lets her put aside 
  all thoughts of the future beyond the immediate task at 
  hand, and in this blank space she has found an unwavering 
  strength. This calm focus has allowed her to hone her skills 
  to a razor’s edge. Even as the Reckoning brings death with 
  each arrow launched from her bow, she is herself a weapon 
  hurled by Everblight against his enemies.
  esCort 
  2 
  self Ctrl 
  – 
  yes no 
  Warbeasts in this model’s battlegroup beginning their activations in its 
  control area gain +2˝ movement. This model gains +2 ARM while one or 
  more warbeasts in its battlegroup are within 3˝ of it. 
  frost haMMer 
  2 
  sp 8 
  – 
  12 
  no yes 
  Frost Hammer causes cold damage 
  . On a critical hit, a model becomes 
  stationary for one round unless it has Immunity: Cold 
  . 
  wind wall 
  3 
  self 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  This model cannot make ranged attacks, and non-magical ranged attacks 
  targeting it automatically miss. While completely within 3˝ of this model, 
  models cannot make ranged attacks and non-magical ranged attacks 
  targeting them automatically miss. Wind Wall lasts for one round. 
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  LyLyth, Reckoning of eveRbLight
  legion epiC blighted nyss Cavalry warloCk
  What is there beyond devotion, beyond strength, beyond even fear? Only swift death brought by silent 
  blades and falling arrows.
  —Rhyas, Sigil of Everblight
   9 
  8 
  6 
  8 
  14 16 
  8
  LyLyTH
  WHISPER
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   12 
  1 
  — 
  12
   
  POW 
  P+S
   
  POW 
  P+S
  SCyTHING BLADE
  SCyTHING BLADE
   
  4 
  12
   
  4 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
   
  POW
  MOUNT
   
  12
  FuRy 
  5 
  DAMAGE 
  18 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  WARbEAST POiNTS 
  +5 
  huGE bASE 
  TacTIcaL TIPS 
  auTo fire – These attacks are simultaneous. Attacks against targets 
  beyond this weapon’s range will automatically miss.  
  rear aTTack – This does not enable this model to target models in 
  its back arc with charges. 
  escorT – Modifiers to movement apply only to a model’s normal 
  movement.  
  
  107
  
  108
  —
  affliCtor 
   Eyeless Sight
  Blood creation – This model 
  never attacks friendly Faction 
  warlocks and cannot choose 
  them as its frenzy target. 
  Flight – This model can 
  advance through terrain 
  and obstacles without 
  penalty and can advance 
  through obstructions and 
  other models if it has 
  enough movement to move 
  completely past them. This 
  model ignores intervening 
  models when declaring its 
  charge target. 
  Inscrutable – Opponents cannot take control of this model. 
  Soulless – This model does not generate a soul token when 
  it is destroyed. 
  ovipositor 
   Reach
  Infection – Once per activation, when this model 
  boxes a living enemy warrior model with an attack 
  with this weapon, remove the boxed model from 
  play and replace it with an Incubus model. 
  TacTIcaL TIP
  infecTion – Because a boxed model is removed from play before 
  being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token.
  Among the myriad powers at Everblight’s disposal, the most 
  terrifying is the dragon’s capacity to infect his enemies in 
  body and mind. The blight is not only a means to create 
  his servants and spawn but also a weapon to be wielded 
  against lesser creatures. The afflictor was birthed to 
  serve this very purpose, born in blight to spread the 
  blight. Its body is a vessel for delivering the seed of 
  all-consuming, destructive life. Struck by the beast’s 
  wicked tail, a victim is pumped full of seething, 
  caustic corruption, his flesh made a vessel for a 
  new child of the dragon.
  Afflictors arise from the Legion’s ranks like 
  nightmarish wasps made to hunt on the battlefield. 
  Each unfortunate impaled upon an afflictor’s barbed 
  tail experiences a few seconds of indescribable agony 
  and fear as a ravening incubus erupts from his ruined 
  flesh. As the dying man’s vision dims, his last sight is 
  of his killer taking wing with a piercing shriek, already 
  hunting its next victim.
  Our language has a word for such an unclean death, but it is forbidden to be spoken aloud.
  —Aigyr Sillvyl, Priest of Nyssor
   6 
  7 
  6 
  4 
  13 15 
  7
  AFFLICTOR
   
  POW 
  P+S
  OVIPOSITOR
   
  5 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  CoerCed proteCtor 1 
  self 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  This model gains Sacrificial Pawn [Soulless Warrior] for one 
  round. (When a model with Sacrificial Pawn [Soulless Warrior] 
  is directly hit by an enemy ranged attack, you can choose to 
  have one friendly, non-incorporeal soulless warrior model 
  within 3˝ of the model directly hit instead. That model is 
  automatically hit and suffers all damage and effects.)
  FuRy 
  3 
  ThREShOlD 
  9 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  4 
  MEDiuM bASE
  S
  P
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  1
  2
  3
  4
  AffLictoR
  legion light warbeast
  
  109
  —
  nephiliM 
   Eyeless Sight
  Flight – This model can 
  advance through terrain 
  and obstacles without 
  penalty and can advance 
  through obstructions 
  and other models if it has 
  enough movement to move 
  completely past them. This 
  model ignores intervening 
  models when declaring its 
  charge target. 
  Primal Magic – This model 
  can use the animus of 
  any friendly Faction non-
  character warbeast in its 
  command range as if the 
  animus were its own. 
  Telemetry – Other friendly 
  Faction models gain +2 to 
  magic attack rolls against 
  enemy models within 5˝ of 
  this model. 
  gaff 
   Reach
  Brutal charge – This model gains +2 to charge 
  attack damage rolls with this weapon. 
  The nephilim are among the dragon’s favored children, 
  in no small part due to the speed with which they have 
  diverged into useful strains. The bloodseers are a potent 
  breed of nephilim, perfectly attuned to the dragon’s blight. 
  The power of the dragon emanates and surrounds these 
  creatures, who wield it with frightening ease. They glide 
  among the Legion’s armies, calling forth the blighted favors 
  of the dragon’s will from their fellow spawn, striking down 
  their enemies, and bolstering their brethren as necessary. As 
  ravenous and bloodthirsty as any nephilim, the bloodseers 
  feast upon the raw flesh of their enemies after laying them 
  low with their profane gifts.
  The idea of dragonspawn gifted with the abilities of sorcerers is terrifying. Consider what this 
  suggests of the future envisioned by Ethrunbal.
  —Cylena Raefyll
   6 
  8 
  5 
  3 
  12 18 
  8
  NEPHILIM
   
  POW 
  P+S
  GAFF
   
  4 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  The birth of the first bloodseers 
  ushered in a new age in the evolution 
  of 
  Everblight’s 
  spawn. 
  Other 
  nephilim have been observed to act 
  as subordinates to the bloodseers in 
  what appears to be the rudiments of a 
  culture developing among this hybrid 
  species. Previously only his warlocks 
  and the sorceresses of the blighted Nyss 
  could effectively and consciously wield the 
  latent mystical potential within the spawn. 
  Those Nyss who witness bloodseers casting 
  their spells wonder how much longer their species 
  will be necessary to the dragon’s plans.
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  witCh blight 
  2 
  self 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  When an enemy model casts a spell while within 5˝ of this 
  model, increase the COST by 1. Enemy models cannot upkeep 
  spells on models within 5˝ of this model. Witch Blight lasts for 
  one round. 
  FuRy 
  3 
  ThREShOlD 
  10 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  5 
  MEDiuM bASE
  nephiLim bLoodseeR
  legion light warbeast
  S
  P
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  1
  2
  3
  4
  
  110
  attachment [Blighted Ogrun 
  Warspear] – This attachment 
  can be added to a Blighted 
  Ogrun Warspear unit. 
  Chieftain 
   Fearless
   Officer
   Terror
  Huntsman – After 
  deployment but before the 
  first player’s turn, choose 
  an enemy model/unit to 
  be this unit’s prey. While 
  this model is in play, each 
  model in its unit beginning 
  its activation within 10˝ of the prey gains +2˝ movement that 
  activation. While this model is in play, models in its unit gain 
  +2 to attack and damage rolls against the prey. When the prey 
  is destroyed or removed from play, choose another model/unit 
  as the prey. 
  Tactics: Relentless charge – Models in this unit gain Relentless 
  Charge. (Models with Relentless Charge gain Pathfinder 
   
  during activations they charge.) 
  thrown spear 
  Thrown – Add this model’s STR to the POW of this ranged 
  attack. 
  war spear 
   Reach
  Set Defense – A model in this model’s front arc 
  suffers –2 on charge, slam power attack, and 
  impact attack rolls against this model.
  to the position of chieftain among the warspears requires 
  an ogrun to prove he possesses strength and savagery 
  remarkable even among a race of brutal warriors who 
  prize viciousness in slaughter.
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  hunTsMan – Modifiers to movement apply only to a model’s 
  normal movement. 
  officer – Remember this model can issue the Assault Order. 
  Because this model is an Officer, when it is destroyed it does not 
  replace a grunt in its unit. Instead the unit leader becomes the unit 
  commander.
  Chieftains among the blighted ogrun are 
  possessed of tremendous ferocity.  Before 
  the blight, these ogrun might have been great 
  stalkers of prey dedicated to keeping their 
  people fed and supplied, but the dragon’s 
  corruption has turned them from noble 
  hunters to cold, ruthless warriors. Their 
  skills having been honed in countless 
  conflicts, they are consummate killers that 
  exult in the slaughter they bring with the 
  points of their massive spears.
  On the battlefield the chieftain directs his 
  forces against the most dangerous of their 
  enemies, offering every kill as a sacrament to 
  the dragon. He incites his warspears to violence 
  and leads them into the fray. Even the most rugged 
  terrain poses no obstacle to these frenzied warriors. Rising 
  Fall upon them and visit swift death in our master’s name.
  —Ronag, Warspear Chieftain
   5 
  9 
  8 
  6 
  12 16 
  9
  CHIEFTAIN
  THROWN SPEAR
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   8 
  1 
  — 
  4
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WAR SPEAR
   
  4 
  13
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  DAMAGE 
  8
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2
  POiNT COST 
  2
  MEDiuM bASE
  WARspeAR chieftAin
  legion blighted ogrun unit attaChMent
  
  111
  beast Mistress 
   Fearless
   Pathfinder
  Draconic consort – This 
  model is not a warlock 
  but has the following 
  warlock special rules: 
  Battlegroup Commander, 
  Control Area, Damage 
  Transference, Forcing, Fury 
  Manipulation, Healing, and 
  Spellcaster. This model can 
  have only non-character 
  Faction lesser warbeasts in 
  its battlegroup. 
  Field Marshal [aggressive] – Models in this model’s 
  battlegroup gain Aggressive. (A model with Aggressive can run 
  or charge without spending focus or being forced.) 
  Flank [lesser warbeast] – When this model makes a melee 
  attack against an enemy model within the melee range of a 
  friendly model of the type indicated, this model gains +2 to 
  attack rolls and gains an additional damage die.
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  Draconic consorT – This model’s type is solo, not warlock. 
  No greater miracle could Everblight have gifted his people than his blight, and with it, his children.
  —Beast Mistress Syllia Shyvyss 
   6 
  5 
  5 
  4 
  14 13 
  9
  BEAST MISTRESS
   
  POW 
  P+S
  NySS CLAyMORE
   
  4 
  9
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  able to commune and command dragonspawn 
  on a level almost on par with that of the 
  dragon’s warlocks. Though the beast 
  mistresses do not enjoy the privilege 
  of being host to athanc shards, they 
  are still markedly lethal and potent 
  wielders of the blight. 
  Beast mistresses have been thoroughly 
  inculcated in the radiance of the dragon’s 
  glories. Their minds have been carefully 
  attuned to the whispering, almost razor-
  sharp thoughts of the spawn, and through 
  the spawn they sense the dragon’s own 
  will. From the moment they first feel his 
  presence within their awareness, they live 
  only to bask in the presence of the dragon 
  and his children.
  As the Legion’s armies grow, the beast 
  mistresses are increasingly filling the role 
  of commanders subordinate to Everblight’s 
  warlocks but more than capable of leading 
  dragonspawn far afield when directed. In 
  battle they command the spawn with an innate 
  understanding of each beast’s capabilities and 
  methods of slaughter. They fight alongside 
  the spawn with ease, their blighted bond to the 
  creatures allowing them to anticipate their attacks 
  and take best advantage of injured or distracted foes. 
  FuRy 
  4
  DAMAGE 
  5
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2
  POiNT COST 
  3
  SMAll bASE
  beAst mistRess
  legion blighted nyss solo
  blood rain 
  3 
  8 
  3 
  12 
  no yes 
  Blood Rain causes corrosion damage 
  . Models hit suffer the Corrosion 
  continuous effect 
  . 
  energizer 
  * 
  self Ctrl 
  – 
  no no 
  This model spends up to 3 fury points to cast Energizer. Models in its 
  battlegroup that are currently in its control area can immediately advance 
  up to 1˝ for each fury point spent. Energizer can be cast only once per turn.
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  As the blighted Nyss adapt to their new way of life, 
  some among them have shown a special affinity for the 
  dragon’s blight. These rare sorceresses, each blessed with 
  a direct channel to the font of the dragon’s power, are 
  
  112
  
  113
  How the familiar cowled figure had found him again 
  was a mystery, one Krueger the Stormlord knew would 
  not be answered. The mere appearance of this messenger 
  conveyed that Blighterghast was now heeding matters 
  beyond his eternal vigil, a fact for which Krueger was 
  ultimately responsible. As before, the heavily robed 
  figure leaned upon a long, slender staff of white wood, 
  and the leprous body stank of putrid decay. Extended 
  exposure to the concentrated blight had transformed the 
  flesh, and it persisted in an unstable state between life 
  and death.
  “The time has come.” The male voice came from the 
  dragon’s emissary, its tone flat but ominous. “The 
  foe we share has advanced. We demand more active 
  intervention.”
  Krueger’s eyes widened, but he maintained his regal 
  posture and held his spear Wurmtongue idly, careful to 
  betray no apprehension. “We are readying even now for 
  battle with Everblight’s minions, risking our lives. What 
  greater intervention could there be?”
  “You forget your place!” Even at some unknown distance 
  and veiled through its rotting intermediary, the voice 
  conveyed ageless power and menace. There was a flare 
  of disquieting blighted energy within the cowl where the 
  figure’s eyes should be.
  Krueger reminded himself that whatever the guise of the 
  creature before him, it spoke for a far greater being—one 
  that could, on the smallest whim, unravel all his plans 
  and destroy them utterly. The appearance of this emissary 
  here, now, spoke volumes. Finally, he had confirmation 
  that the dangerous course he had set in motion by first 
  visiting Blighterghast had moved forward. More carefully, 
  he asked, “What has changed that disturbs you?”
  “The renegade has created something new: spawn beyond 
  the scope of any seen before. Their shape is blasphemy—
  too closely do they mirror our form. Find these spawn, 
  eliminate them, and pave the way for us to end Everblight. 
  If you fail, ash and ruin shall consume the lands beneath 
  our wings.” The figure turned and strode into trees, the 
  stench of death wafting behind it.
  ARchAngeL
  a teMporary 
  enCaMpMent 
  near thornfall 
  
  h
  h
  l
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  114
  arChangel 
   Eyeless SIght
  Blood creation – This 
  model never attacks 
  friendly Faction warlocks 
  and cannot choose them as 
  its frenzy target. 
  Flight – This model can 
  advance through terrain 
  and obstacles without 
  penalty and can advance 
  through obstructions 
  and other models if it 
  has enough movement 
  to move completely past 
  them. This model ignores 
  intervening models when 
  declaring its charge target. 
  Ride-by attack – This model 
  can make ride-by attacks. 
  Soulless – This model does 
  not generate a soul token 
  when it is destroyed. 
  dragon breath 
   critical Fire
   Damage Type: Fire
  Strafe [d3+1] (Hattack) – Make d3+1 ranged attacks targeting 
  a primary target and any number of secondary targets within 
  2˝ of the first target. Ignore intervening models when declaring 
  secondary targets. A secondary target cannot be targeted by 
  more attacks than the primary target. Strafe counts as one attack 
  for ROF. 
  bite 
  consume – If the attack hit a small-based non-warlock/
  warcaster model the model hit is removed from play. 
  Claws 
   Open Fist
  Everblight still dreams of the time when he took to wing 
  and spread death like a god; now his longing has been 
  made manifest in the archangel. His most perfect spawn, 
  the archangel courses through the sky and unleashes 
  gouts of flame to spread across the earth. It scorches the 
  enemies of its master, coming to ground only to feast 
  upon those who would defy him. Where the archangel 
  goes, so goes Everblight’s legion—and with it, the future 
  Everblight envisions.
  In just a few short years, Everblight has learned more about 
  the crafting of flesh through blight than any dragon on Caen. 
  With each new spawn he has wrought, he has refined both 
  his vision for his blighted creations and his understanding 
  of their unique physiology. Beasts like the angelius and 
  seraph informed his knowledge of flight and flame even as 
  their sinuous bodies echo the glory he knew in his draconic 
  form. Devouring the athanc of Pyromalfic multiplied his 
  strength as well as his mastery of blight and his desire to 
  spawn creations worthy of his great legacy. 
  The dragon first conceived of the archangel while working 
  to consume that essence. But even with the power of his 
  sibling’s athanc added to his own, Everblight lacked the 
  essential matter necessary to realize his vision. It was not 
  until his warlock Kallus procured bones of the defeated 
  Pyromalfic that Everblight saw the means to create his 
  ultimate work.
  Though the bone pieces were few, each served as a powerful 
  reagent in the bloody genesis Everblight intended. The 
  dragon called his consul to him and had her prepare for 
  the spawning. Vayl and her most skilled sorceresses 
  modified her greatest spawning pool and saw that the 
  wide, deep metal cauldron was set within a stone basin 
  before the Legion’s temporary mountain stronghold. Vayl 
  herself spent days filling each sigil set into its surface with 
  a mixture containing her own blood, empowered from the 
  athanc shard she bore. 
  TacTIcaL TIP 
  sTrafe – These attacks are simultaneous. Attacks against targets 
  beyond this weapon’s range will automatically miss. 
  Their shrieks herald a new age, a new flesh.
  —Vayl, Consul of Everblight
   6 14 
  6 
  5 
  11 18 
  7
  ARCHANGEL
  DRAGON BREATH
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   10 
  1 
  3 
  14
   
  POW 
  P+S
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BITE
  CLAWS
   
  5 
  19
   
  3 
  17
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  draConiC aura 
  2 
  self 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  This model gains Righteous Flames. Draconic Aura lasts for one 
  round. (An enemy model that ends its activation within 2˝ of a 
  model with Righteous Flames suffers the Fire continuous effect 
  .) 
  FuRy 
  4 
  ThREShOlD 
  9 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  POiNT COST 
  20 
  huGE bASE
  ARchAngeL
  legion gargantuan
   
  POW 
  P+S
  CLAWS
   
  3 
  17
  R
  
  115
  The sorceresses next set about filling the occult basin to 
  its brim with the blood and carcasses of their victims, 
  placing in the center three fragments of Pyromalfic’s 
  skeleton. When all was ready, Everblight called his avatar 
  and messiah, Thagrosh, to the pool along with Kallus and 
  Absylonia to perform the ritual that would push them 
  to new limits in the service of their master. The dragon 
  spoke through Thagrosh in the language of Morrdh. As 
  his intonation reached its climax, the three warlocks drew 
  their own blood and added the concentrated essence of 
  Everblight into the churning pit.
  A geyser of blood and gore marked the birth of the first 
  archangels. The air rippled with a black sheen, like the 
  lights of the northern sky tainted with unwholesome 
  energy. The beasts hurtled skyward, gouts of raw blight 
  trailing behind them as a dark radiance. They shrieked in 
  exultation—an echo of the savage joy Everblight felt as he 
  watched them emerge. 
  The archangels are not merely products of the dragon’s 
  vanity. He expects others of Toruk’s progeny to rise 
  against him in the imminent future, fearful of his glory; the 
  archangels are among the greatest of the weapons by which 
  he will confront and defeat them. The forms of these new 
  creations possess speed, size, and unquestionable lethality. 
  When enough have been spawned, Everblight will need no 
  longer fear the machinations of his jealous siblings. In fact, 
  he plans to one day fly alongside his spawn and devour the 
  heart of Lord Toruk himself.
  For now, the archangels hunt at the vanguard of the 
  dragon’s legion, unnaturally predatory and fearsomely 
  quick. Like all the dragon’s spawn, they see without eyes 
  and sightlessly scour the earth before dropping from the 
  sky to roast their stunned prey alive. The appearance of the 
  archangels marks a new zenith of Everblight’s rise—and a 
  conflict among the dragons the likes of which has not been 
  seen before on Caen.
  
  116
  Bloodstone Marches, East of Caerly’s Craig, 608 A.R.
  Corpses aMid the bloodstone
  Minions
  Despite the blazing desert sun that beat mercilessly upon 
  the sands, the stench that permeated the area was even 
  more oppressive. The carcass of the giant beast had lain 
  there quite some time. Red and gold armor plating sagged 
  from the creature’s rotting body. Flies buzzed busily about, 
  landing briefly upon decaying flesh before returning to 
  the air. Whatever had led to the enormous tortoise-like 
  creature’s demise, countless carrion followers had seen fit 
  to feast upon it—until the farrow arrived.
  Midas snorted as he plunged his hands into the soft, 
  putrid flesh of the creature’s abdomen. Around him 
  several subordinate bone grinders also set to their grisly 
  tasks, bone saws and butcher’s cleavers stripping the 
  carcass of any unspoiled parts. Pushing and tearing away 
  chunks of rancid meat, Midas finally came upon a thin 
  membrane of gray tissue. In a smooth, practiced motion, 
  he whipped a sharp skinning knife from his belt and sliced 
  carefully through the membrane to reveal the animal’s 
  massive liver. Surprisingly, it appeared untouched by 
  decay. Licking his snout, Midas gently pulled the prize 
  from the remains. 
  The warlock grunted in excitement as he thought of what 
  could be done with a liver of this size; of the soft organs, 
  the liver usually contained the greatest concentration 
  of vital energy in a being’s body. As he examined it, 
  however, his hopes plunged: the structure was rife with 
  decay, and several areas squirmed with white maggots. 
  Trying to salvage what he could, Midas began butchering 
  the liver, his hands a blur of motion as he cut away the 
  most spoiled meat. In minutes the mighty organ had been 
  reduced to two piles of flesh, one much larger than the 
  other. Midas grabbed one of the better cuts and popped 
  it into his mouth, scowling as he chewed the slightly 
  spoiled meat. He should have felt the sharp crackle of 
  energy as he gnawed it, even in its imperfect condition. 
  Instead only the faintest hint of residual power traced 
  his tongue. He swallowed, then whistled and stood as 
  another farrow scurried over to collect the smaller pile of 
  choice cuts into a large jar.
  Absentmindedly wiping his hands on the apron that 
  covered his thick frame, Midas took a moment to survey 
  the work. Much to his consternation, they had discovered 
  the creature far too late to collect many useful components. 
  He had run into this issue with skorne beasts before. The 
  race’s strange mortitheurgy greatly hastened the departure 
  of life force after death. Only immediate harvesting could 
  preserve the primal energies within them. 
  A farrow named Klerg instructed several slaughterhousers 
  to sever the creature’s head. As they struggled to move 
  the massive cranium into one of the wagons from Midas’ 
  caravan, the farrow warlock caught sight of a pair of familiar 
  figures approaching from the north. The smaller of the two, 
  Rorsh, casually carried a pig iron rifle at his side. Next to 
  him strode the massive porcine warbeast Brine. Rorsh had 
  left to scout the sands ahead while Midas and his farrow 
  had set about their gruesome work. 
  Midas held up a thick hand in greeting as the pair 
  approached and asked, “Did you find anything?”
  Rorsh grunted gruffly. “Just refuge from the wretched 
  smell.” As if interrupted by an unspoken statement he 
  turned his goggled eyes to Brine, who was snuffling toward 
  the pile of discarded liver pieces. “How could you want to 
  eat that?” He smacked the massive war boar on the snout 
  before turning back to Midas. “These worthless scraps are a 
  waste of time. If you need butchering practice, hit a human 
  caravan; at least the meat will be fresh.” 
  Rorsh spit disgustedly as a slaughterhouser passed. The 
  errant glob struck the butcher square on the arm, causing 
  him to look up murderously toward its source. Rorsh’s 
  blistering stare quickly sent the slaughterhouser’s gaze 
  elsewhere. With a snort of satisfaction, Rorsh reached into 
  his great coat and pulled out a thick cigar. 
  “There is no such thing as worthless scraps,” Midas said 
  as he motioned to his assistants’ industry. “Even here we 
  can find all we need amid the refuse of the other races. I 
  only wish that we could have come across this wondrous 
  carcass sooner.”
  
  117
  “Probably would’ve helped the stench,” Rorsh said. Midas 
  opened his mouth to respond, but Rorsh cut him off. “I saw 
  several of these things during my stay around the Rotterhorn. 
  The skorne have been bringing them over the Bloodstone to 
  help wage their wars up north. They call ’em animantaraxes.” 
  Rorsh struggled with the strange skorne word.
  Midas’ eyes gleamed. “Do you know where we might find 
  more of them? The mystical power these creatures could 
  offer would be substantial. Harvesting one immediately 
  upon death. . . .” Midas began salivating at the thought, 
  remembering the hint of energy he had tasted earlier. 
  He had encountered many intriguing creatures in his 
  wanderings, but those brought by the skorne offered a 
  glimpse into the untapped wealth beyond the Bloodstone 
  Marches. Capturing the energies of such creatures fresh, 
  however, had proven frustrating. 
  “It’s easy enough to track them,” Rorsh said as his lips 
  curled into a wicked smile. “Besides, I’ve got an outstanding 
  account to settle with the skorne.”
  They had tracked the skorne column for two days. Rorsh 
  had been right when he had said the skorne feared little 
  among the sands; their obvious trail had allowed Rorsh to 
  get Midas’ forces ahead of the caravan. The pace had been 
  arduous, but Midas’ host was used to the grueling rigors of 
  life within the Marches. They now waited in the shadow of 
  Caerly’s Craig, having established a temporary camp in a 
  rough-hewn pass through towering basalt columns. 
  Midas had spread his farrow around the entrance to the 
  pass, hoping to hide their presence from any forward 
  skorne scouts. Sensing the minds of the pack of razor boars 
  and the two heavier gun boars lounging lazily in the sun, 
  he let their simple animal contentment wash over him for 
  a few moments. Suddenly, Klerg’s voice ended his reverie.
  “The preparations are ready, Midas. The bones await your call.”
  Surveying the work, Midas saw two piles of bones constructed 
  from the decaying beast. The warlock could feel power 
  emanating from them, even in their despoiled condition. 
  Turning his attention to a steel cauldron carved with crude 
  farrow runes, Midas began combining the proper components 
  for the impending ritual: dried sinew, powdered intestine, and 
  several eyeballs with irises glazed milky white. He could sense 
  each ingredient’s unique mystical energy being released as he 
  ground them into paste with an elaborately carved mortar. 
  Finally he held out his hand for the jar containing the rest of 
  the liver he had collected from the animantarax. One by one, 
  Midas threw the pieces into the pot. As he finished crushing 
  the last of the liver into the mixture, he withdrew a small 
  fraction of the paste onto his finger and tasted it. Midas felt 
  a surge of primal power spark within his mouth. He grinned. 
  “This creature was most powerful indeed,” he said to Klerg. 
  “I can only imagine what energies fresh pieces might offer.”
  Midas took the cauldron to the piles of bones and pulled 
  out a heaping handful of the concoction. The bone grinders 
  behind him began a low chant, led by Klerg. As the rhythmic 
  intonations filled the air, Midas spread the mixture across the 
  bones and began mentally weaving the mystical connections in 
  runic formulae that would act as his creations’ sinew, muscle, 
  and eyes. Using his skinning knife, Midas sliced across his 
  palm. As he intoned the final words of the ritual, he shook his 
  bleeding hand hard toward the piles of bone, splattering them 
  with bright red beads of his blood. A hiss arose and grew into 
  a keening wail, and the boneswarms sprang to life
  Midas reached out to connect his will with the cold, alien 
  minds of the boneswarms. The sensation was unsettling 
  compared to the natural connection he experienced with 
  his living warbeasts, but he knew these macabre constructs 
  would serve him well in the coming battle. 
  The gruff voice of Scorge, the captain of Midas’ 
  slaughterhousers, broke the stillness of the assembled bone 
  grinders. “Midas,” the burly farrow said, bowing as he 
  approached and motioning to a lean brigand behind him. 
  “A messenger from Lord Carver has arrived.” 
  Midas snorted. What could the self-proclaimed “lord” of the 
  farrow want? He turned his piercing gaze to the newcomer. 
  “What is it?”
  Carver’s messenger looked about with shifty eyes, clearly 
  uncomfortable in front of the powerful warlock. Midas 
  growled, his patience wearing thin. “Divination is not one 
  of my talents, messenger. Speak your news or be gone. I 
  have many matters to attend to.” 
  Scorge shoved the messenger roughly from behind, 
  finally prompting him to break his silence. “I bring orders 
  from Lord Carver, Bringer of Most Massive Destruction, 
  Lord of the Thornfall Alliance, Master of the . . . ” 
  Midas had begun tapping his hoof impatiently, his hand 
  moving toward the massive bone saw on his belt, and the 
  messenger’s voice wavered.
  “I know who Carver is! Get on with it!” Midas shouted. 
  Responding to the warlock’s annoyance, the boneswarms 
  began clacking behind him.
  as the rhythMiC intonations 
  filled the air, Midas spread the 
  Mixture aCross the bones .
  
  118
  The messenger nervously cleared his throat and jumped 
  ahead. “His Excellence, Lord Carver, demands you return 
  to his hold at once to join his glorious war host. Lord Carver 
  prepares to assault and capture a skorne fortress that 
  occupies a vital location in Caerly’s Craig. From there Lord 
  Carver will expand his domain.”
  Midas pounded his fists against his thighs to stop from 
  backhanding the poor farrow. Though Carver had 
  bested him in personal combat and was therefore owed 
  subservience, Midas was not inclined to be dictated to like 
  a common farrow. That the orders came from the mouth of 
  this weakling made his inner fury burn even hotter. 
  Midas was about to respond when Rorsh interjected, “If we 
  leave now, you’ll miss the chance to add to your collection.”
  Scorge leveled a withering stare at Rorsh. “Your opinion 
  was not asked for, mercenary.”
  Rorsh smiled. “Yet I gave it.” He took a leisurely draw from 
  his cigar as Scorge bristled in anger.
  Midas’ mind turned as he debated what to do. Reaching 
  out to touch the cold intellects of the boneswarms, he felt 
  mystical power coursing through them. No, there was too 
  much at stake. He would not abandon his prize now. Carver 
  could wait until he was done with his task. It was best if 
  his new liege understood that not everyone would simply 
  jump at his command.
  “I will attend him as soon as it is convenient—for me.”
  Before the indignant messenger could reply, Rorsh stepped 
  toward him and placed a rough hand on his shoulder. 
  “Time for you to go.” Any protest the messenger was about 
  to make was cut short by a coughing fit brought on by a 
  large cloud of smoke from the farrow’s cigar. Rorsh gave a 
  harsh whistle; Brine, who never strayed far from his master, 
  ambled up. “Come, Brine, let’s show this little farrow the 
  way home.”
  Scorge 
  approached 
  Midas, 
  his 
  brow 
  furrowed 
  in 
  consternation, as he watched the trio leave. “You listen 
  to him too much. He does not understand what it is to be 
  farrow, nor does he understand loyalty to any but himself.”
  Klerg spoke next. “Is it wise to put off Lord Carver? Even 
  for a prize as great as this?”
  Midas locked eyes with his subordinates and stepped in 
  close, overshadowing even Scorge with his hulking form. 
  “My decision is my own. I will not abandon everything like 
  a common swine simply because Lord Carver whistles.” 
  He jabbed a finger at both of them. “And until either of 
  you wishes to challenge me for leadership, you will obey 
  my commands!”
  Midas watched in satisfaction as the two quickly bent their 
  heads low, cowed. There would be plenty of time to serve 
  Lord Carver after he had secured his trophy.
  An unforgiving sandstorm whipped around the enemy 
  column, severely limiting visibility. Midas watched as the 
  skorne emerged from the stinging gale and approached the 
  concealed farrow. Several rows of Praetorian swordsmen 
  marched with coordinated precision behind a large, golden 
  standard. They were flanked by four heavily armored 
  cyclops savages, massive falchions held ready. At the center 
  of the column rode a large skorne tyrant, his menacing 
  appearance bolstered by his long-fanged ferox mount. But 
  the end of the column interested Midas most. Towering 
  above the sands and skorne around them strode two of the 
  great animantaraxes. Midas licked his snout and tightened 
  his grip on his bone saw as he gazed at them. He could feel 
  their energy even from this distance.
  Midas reached out to the six razor boars concealed amid the 
  sand, ready to spring upon the skorne column along with the 
  slaughterhousers and the freshly constructed boneswarms. 
  The gun boars, however, required his immediate attention. 
  He allowed their vision to fill his mind, managing the two 
  different perspectives with practiced ease. As the skorne 
  warriors crossed the second marker hidden in the sand, 
  Midas broadcast a single mental command: Fire!
  A loud crack broke the air and explosions blossomed along 
  the skorne line as the gun boars unleashed their first salvo. 
  Midas heard the distinct report of Rorsh’s pig iron and then 
  a chain reaction of blasts that stitched its way through the 
  skorne column, sending red-and-gold–armored bodies 
  flying. Midas saw the skorne scan for their attackers beyond 
  the whipping sands of the storm as their lines fell into 
  disarray. Refusing to lose the initiative, he sent the razor 
  boars to harry the cyclops savages and the animantaraxes 
  before charging his chosen quarry. 
  The skorne line again erupted in fire from the gun boars’ 
  explosive shells. Snorts and squeals added to the discord as 
  the slaughterhousers rushed in from their own concealed 
  positions. In utter chaos, the skorne had no chance to 
  react to this new threat, and the slaughterhousers’ wicked 
  polearms cleaved through the line of warriors. 
  a loud CraCk broke the air 
  and explosions blossoMed 
  along the skorne line as  
  the gun boars unleashed 
  their first salvo . 
  
  119
  Midas saw Scorge and two of his companions charge into 
  one of the heavily armored cyclops savages. Avoiding a 
  blow from its falchion, the first slaughterhouser struck 
  the creature’s knee, taking its leg clean off. As it toppled 
  to the sand, the second cut off both its hands at the wrist, 
  while Scorge leveled a mighty overhand swing that 
  split the creature’s helm in an explosion of gore. As the 
  cyclops’ life force left it, Midas reached out and stole it 
  for his own purposes. 
  The farrow warlock urged his boneswarms to attack the 
  remaining Praetorians. The undead constructs consumed 
  skorne whole, sloughing off flesh and adding the revealed 
  bones to their own mass. 
  Closing on the first of the animantaraxes, Midas summoned 
  a powerful curse to make the creature’s flesh more 
  vulnerable to harm, encircling it in fell runes. Drawing 
  energy from his warbeasts, he then unleashed a mystical 
  strike into its bulk, punching through armor plating to tear 
  a great gash in the creature’s flesh. The warlock gave a sharp 
  whistle, and several more slaughterhousers emerged from 
  the sands. They rushed the wounded creature, heedless of 
  the razor-sharp needles being fired from the flayer cannon 
  upon its houdaa. 
  Midas drew strength from the connection with his 
  warbeasts and imbued the charging slaughterhousers with 
  a powerful enchantment that stoked their inherent lust for 
  carnage. The wounded animantarax thrashed its great tail, 
  crushing a razor boar to pulp before turning on one of the 
  charging slaughterhousers. With a dull thump of shattering 
  bones, the slaughterhouser went flying. Despite its efforts, 
  the animantarax was quickly butchered by the remaining 
  slaughterhousers as their weapons clove into its flesh. The 
  animantarax crashed to the ground with a low bellow, its 
  blood seeping into the dry sand. 
  There was no time for satisfaction, however, as the second 
  animantarax thundered forward, sowing death among the 
  farrow. Midas inflicted upon it the same curse that had 
  helped bring down the other. 
  The farrow was so focused on the final animantarax that 
  he did not notice the tyrant charging atop his ferox. Pain 
  exploded through his side as a wicked halberd sliced 
  through flesh and muscle. Instinctively, Midas sent the 
  wound to one of his razor boars and then grunted as the 
  beast collapsed dead, unable to take the full brunt of the 
  wound. He felt warm blood trickle down his side from 
  the remaining injury. The skorne commander shouted 
  something in his native tongue, and his mount roared to 
  expose razor-sharp fangs. 
  Without hesitation, Midas poured the energy he had 
  collected from his dying warbeasts into the runes that leapt 
  into existence around his hand before surging out with 
  explosive force to crash into the tyrant’s chest. As the tyrant 
  reeled from the impact, Midas sprang forward and brought 
  his bone saw up in a sweeping arc. The blade easily severed 
  the ferox’s head from its body. The big cat to toppled to pin 
  the smoking form of the skorne tyrant beneath it. Stepping 
  over the trapped warrior, Midas ruthlessly decapitated him 
  with one stroke.
  The sensation of his last razor boar being crushed beneath 
  the animantarax’s tail pulled Midas’ attention back to the 
  larger battle. The few remaining skorne had fallen back to 
  rally about the mighty creature’s body. 
  As he contemplated his next move, he saw the distinct 
  form of Brine charging toward the animantarax, kicking up 
  huge clods of blood-soaked sand from beneath his hooves. 
  A pair of skorne stepped into the mighty warbeast’s 
  path. In quick succession, two cracks of rifle fire rang out 
  and they both fell, gaping holes in their chests. His way 
  suddenly clear, Brine reached the beast and tore into it 
  with crazed bloodlust, goring its exposed neck with his 
  tusks and gouging its eyes with his fists as he vented his 
  fury upon the great creature. 
  With a snorting bellow and a straining of thick-corded 
  muscle, Brine ripped the animantarax’s head from its body. 
  The spell of the bloody spectacle broke, and Midas suddenly 
  realized the mighty war hog was ruining good flesh. He 
  was about to intervene when Rorsh’s voice stopped him.
  “I’d stay back. Best to let him just work it out.”
  Midas snorted and stalked toward Brine, fixing the 
  crazed warbeast with an unflinching stare. “This is 
  mine,” he said, pointing at the animantarax’s head. “Find 
  something else to eat.” 
  Brine’s muscles tensed, and he dragged a hoof through the 
  sand as if preparing to charge. Midas continued to move 
  toward the animantarax’s head, keeping his eyes locked on 
  the hog’s. “Get going,” Midas growled. “Now!” 
  With a sudden huff, Brine dropped Midas’ gaze and 
  tromped off like a petulant child. Rorsh grunted in surprise 
  and offered Midas a small nod of recognition.
  His prize safe, Midas took a moment to survey the situation. 
  His farrow had already begun scavenging everything of 
  value in the area and loading it into the wagons that had 
  been brought forward by the noncombatants of the group. 
  Klerg and his bone grinders oversaw the butchering 
  of the animantaraxes, showing Scorge and some of his 
  slaughterhousers what to cut with their powerful polearms. 
  Several other bone grinders were collecting parts from the 
  fallen cyclopes, while the remaining slaughterhousers 
  stripped the skorne corpses of weapons and armor as well 
  
  120
  as choice meat cuts. Skorne flesh was tough and nowhere 
  near as savory as human, but it was not the farrow way to 
  waste anything. 
  Even though the party moved quickly, spurred by the desire 
  to protect their bounty from the still-raging storm, the sheer 
  size of the animantaraxes meant the process was going to 
  take a while. Midas made his way over to the creatures, his 
  bone saw ready to begin the bloody work, but before he 
  could press the blade to flesh, Rorsh interrupted. 
  “Something seems wrong here.” He furrowed his brow as 
  he tried and failed to light his cigar in the howling wind.
  “You mean besides the fact that your pet beast savaged the 
  head of my animantarax?” Midas asked, amazed at Rorsh’s 
  stubborn refusal to give up on lighting the cigar.
  “Consider it part of my pay.” Rorsh looked toward Brine, 
  who was now munching on the decapitated ferox. “I’ve 
  seen plenty of caravans in my time. And while they’re all 
  different in their way, one thing is always the same.”
  Midas sighed, exasperated. “And that is?”
  “Supply carts. Even skorne need food and water. So where 
  are they?”
  Midas stopped cold. Rorsh was right. 
  Explosions suddenly ripped through the rear of the farrow. 
  Scanning that direction, Midas felt a mix of awe and 
  fascination as his eyes came to rest upon the largest warbeast 
  he had ever seen. Even the animantaraxes seemed small 
  compared to this hulking creature. It towered over everything 
  around it, great tusks jutting forward from its broad head. 
  The thing reminded Midas of the titans the skorne used, 
  but on an incredible scale. A broad bone plate swept out to 
  protect its neck, though Midas could not imagine what sort of 
  predator could threaten such a gigantic creature. Behind this 
  sat a huge battery of guns, a multibarreled apparatus secured 
  to its back by an array of thick cords. Thunder boomed across 
  the desert plain as it fired again. The shot fell short, but the 
  powerful detonation shook the earth beneath Midas’ feet. The 
  tremendous beast bellowed in rage as it shook its massive 
  head and crashed forward, impelled by its unseen master. 
  As it neared, Midas caught sight of more skorne warriors 
  and several carts being hauled by strange pack animals. 
  Apparently the defeated column had been only a small part 
  of the whole, likely separated by the intense sandstorm.
  “So there they are,” Rorsh said. His tone was nonchalant, 
  but he chewed hard on his cigar. 
  Midas could not help but be captivated by the titanic creature. 
  There was no way his force could stand against it and the 
  skorne forces behind it. He even found himself wishing he 
  had several war hogs now, his desire to live outweighing 
  his longstanding discomfort with the twisted experiments 
  of Dr. Arkadius. The human’s alterations imbued flesh with 
  an unpleasant flavor and similarly tainted its energy, but 
  the results were remarkably effective in war.
  Midas signaled Rorsh and began moving back toward the 
  bulk of his forces, which had paused their frantic scavenging 
  at the sight of the approaching beast.
  “We need to fall back,” Midas said directly to Klerg when 
  they reached where he and Scorge were directing the 
  farrow’s efforts. “You know what is most important. Get it 
  loaded before the rest of the skorne get here.” He turned to 
  Rorsh. “Take all the blasting powder we have and set it up in 
  the pass behind us. That should stop them from following.”
  Rorsh scowled. “That’s going to take a bit.”
  “It doesn’t have to be pretty—just fast.” They all looked at 
  him, unmoving. “What are you waiting for?” he bellowed. 
  “Get to it!”
  Rorsh nodded and whistled for Brine as he moved toward 
  the supply wagons nearest the pass. Klerg quickly followed 
  suit, shouting orders to the bone grinders, who immediately 
  began focusing their work on select bits of the animantaraxes. 
  Only Scorge and three of his slaughterhousers remained. 
  Midas looked at them quizzically.
  “I’m staying with you, like it or not,” Scorge said.
  A thin smile crossed Midas’ snout. He clapped the muscular 
  farrow on the arm and let out a short snort of appreciation.
  Blasts rocked the ground, and Midas felt intense heat wash 
  over him. With a mental command he sent his boneswarms 
  to engage the gigantic skorne warbeast, hoping to silence its 
  guns for a moment. He urged his gun boars to fire into the 
  quickly approaching skorne warriors. 
  The boneswarms had no sooner reached the gargantuan 
  than they were crushed like ants beneath its massive tread. 
  Scorge and his slaughterhousers were engaged with several 
  skorne Praetorians who had pushed their way toward 
  Midas despite the gun boars’ constant fire. 
  The farrow had fallen back to the opening of the mountain 
  pass in order to negate the enemy’s advantage in numbers, 
  but Midas knew they had little time before the might of the 
  new skorne beast alone overwhelmed them. As if in answer, 
  Midas heard the sharp report of Rorsh’s pig iron ring out 
  within the pass. It was time to go.
  Midas drew all the power he could from his warbeasts. His 
  body wreathed in intensely glowing runes, he tilted his 
  head back and outstretched both arms, sending the runes 
  
  121
  to converge around the corpses of his fallen beasts. The 
  bone grinder magic ignited the energy that lingered about 
  flesh and bone. As he drew back his arms, the reanimated 
  warbeasts returned to his side, runes whirling about 
  them. The gargantuan’s cannons boomed once more, and 
  Midas’ vision went white as the explosion hit him straight 
  on. Instinctively, he transferred the damage to one of the 
  revived razor boars before commanding all his warbeasts to 
  attack the skorne line. 
  Taking advantage of the distraction, Midas ran forward to 
  Scorge, who was leaning heavily on his pole arm, bleeding 
  from any number of cuts. Skorne corpses lay everywhere 
  about him. 
  “I think that’s enough killing for one day,” Midas said.
  Scorge scoffed, “Never enough killing in a day.” But 
  despite his bold words, Midas felt the slaughterhouser 
  lean heavily on him. 
  As they made their way into the pass, Midas took one last 
  look at the awesome sight of the gargantuan behind them. 
  He licked his snout. “The next time we meet, I will see what 
  your power tastes like,” he muttered.
  Midas could have sworn the beast looked up at him right 
  before the pass was engulfed in flame and the crumbling 
  mountainside obscured his view.
  Midas walked through the recently conquered skorne fort 
  on his way to meet with Lord Carver, tallying what this 
  particular victory had cost as he went. Clearly, the fort had 
  put up stiff resistance; piles of corpses, both of farrow and 
  of Dr. Arkadius’ perverse creations, lay strewn about the 
  area. Midas suspected that had he been there to fight, the 
  casualties might have been lighter—a fact Lord Carver was 
  unlikely to overlook.
  Carver had set up his throne room in the fortress’ former 
  mess hall. Pushing his way through the heavy wooden 
  doors, Midas saw Rorsh standing just behind and to the 
  right of the throne, a lit cigar hanging from his mouth. 
  The cagey farrow tipped his head as their eyes met. Midas 
  wondered if the sight was a good omen or an ill one. 
  Rising to his full height, Midas strode forward, refusing to 
  show the slightest hint of the apprehension churning inside 
  him. The farrow lord sat upon his ever-present throne, his 
  right hand resting on the pommel of Hand of God, its point 
  ground into the floor. His very being emanated menace and 
  imminent violence.
  Approaching the foot of the dais, Midas bowed his head 
  almost imperceptibly in a required sign of submission.
  “Lord Carver, I have arrived, as commanded.”
  Carver’s finger tapped on Hand of God. “Midas,” he finally 
  growled, “when you did not report in time for this battle, I 
  swore I would kill you for disobedience.” 
  Midas felt his blood go cold, and it took all his will not 
  to reach for the bone saw at his belt. The warlock forced 
  himself to be calm; he had prepared for this.
  Before he could offer his rehearsed explanation, however, 
  Carver spoke again. “But that was before I knew what you 
  had done.” Carver glanced at Rorsh briefly, but his face 
  was unreadable. “Destroying an entire skorne column and 
  blocking the most readily accessible pass to this place . . . .” 
  Carver gestured and raised an eyebrow. “I am impressed. 
  You showed remarkable talent in taking initiative in 
  fulfilling my wishes—if not my actual command.” He 
  leveled a disparaging stare at several other subordinates 
  waiting along the sides of the hall. “A lesson many of my 
  chiefs might put to good use were they not too stupid to 
  be trusted to think for themselves.” Several of the slighted 
  farrow shuffled and made noises, but none were willing to 
  challenge Carver’s appraisal.
  Midas blinked in surprise, his mind racing as he 
  contemplated the implications. Was Carver seeking only to 
  save face, or had Midas’ favor in his eyes truly increased? 
  He said slowly, “Thank you, Lord . . .” 
  Carver simply waved him off. “You may go. I will summon 
  you when I require you.” 
  Midas thought about the skorne gargantuan and his mouth 
  watered. Arkadius’ creations would be essential if he were 
  to take the beast’s power for himself. “My warbeasts were 
  killed fighting the skorne,” he ventured before departing. “I 
  need more if I am to be of use to you.”
  “Dr. Arkadius can see to it,” Carver growled. “Just be sure 
  your future initiatives bear my interests in mind.”
  Midas nodded. “Of course.” As he turned to leave, he 
  considered the benefits he could squeeze from Carver’s 
  regime once word had spread of this meeting. A clever 
  farrow could make much of this sort of opportunity—and 
  he was just such a farrow.
  as he drew baCk his arMs, 
  the reaniMated warbeasts 
  returned to his side, runes 
  whirling about theM .
  
  122
  feat: pet CeMetery
  Proving the bones of the 
  freshly slain have their own 
  power, the great bone grinder 
  Midas calls the dead to rise 
  and fight tirelessly in his stead. 
  Midas spends any number 
  of fury points when this 
  feat is used. Return each 
  destroyed warbeast from 
  Midas’ battlegroup to play 
  within 3˝ of him with one 
  unmarked damage box in 
  each aspect. For each fury 
  point spent, remove 1 damage point from each model in Midas’ 
  battlegroup that is in his control area. Returned warbeasts 
  gain Undead 
  . Returned warbeasts cannot be forced this 
  turn. Returned warbeasts that were destroyed this turn cannot 
  activate the turn they are returned. 
  Minion – This model will work for Circle, Legion, Skorne, and 
  Trollbloods. 
  Midas 
  Butchery – When a living warbeast is destroyed or removed 
  from play while within this model’s control area, place one 
  bone token on this model. Once per turn during this model’s 
  activation, you can remove up to three bone tokens from it. This 
  model gains 1 fury point for each bone token removed. 
  curse [Bone Grinder] – RNG CMD. Target enemy model/
  unit. If the model/unit is in range, it is cursed. A friendly Bone 
  Grinder model charging a cursed model gains +2˝ movement. 
  Friendly Bone Grinder models gain +2 to attack rolls against 
  cursed models. Curse can be used once per activation and lasts 
  for one turn. 
  Dismember – When this model hits a warbeast with a melee 
  attack, roll an additional damage die. 
  Farrow Warlock – This model can have only Minion Farrow 
  warbeasts in its battlegroup. 
  bone saw 
   Magical Weapon
  Soul Food – Immediately after resolving an attack in which it 
  destroyed an enemy warbeast with this weapon, this model can 
  cast a spell with COST 3 or less or cast the destroyed warbeast’s 
  animus as a spell without spending fury.
  learn from their primal essence and join it to his own. His 
  instincts drove him to take the path of the bone grinder, 
  creating totems of power from fresh kills. Those of this 
  discipline among his own tribe he found wanting—they 
  practiced their arts without true appetite and were blind 
  to the deeper roots of the latent power hidden within all 
  beasts. Such strength lay not only in the bones but in the 
  flesh and organs as well. 
  His understanding quickly outpaced that of all others, 
  and he went into the perilous wilds to educate himself. He 
  ventured ever deeper into the Bloodstone Marches, where 
  he subdued increasingly formidable creatures to taste their 
  flesh and seize their powers. He learned to savor the gory 
  physicality of this life, scoffing at methods used by others to 
  cleanse totems and remove bits of flesh. 
  Midas became a warlord using his powers to intimidate and 
  cajole warriors of his tribe into serving him. He has always 
  been more of an outsider, but his fearlessness, strength of 
  will, and battle prowess drew others to him and he gathered 
  a war band without even seeking the responsibilities of 
  leadership. Tatzylwurms, dire trolls, and other creatures 
  fell before his band, and he feasted on them and added their 
  bones to his totems. 
  When Lord Carver set about subjugating the other farrow, 
  Midas’ war band was one of the last to submit. Midas and 
  bad blood 
  2 
  10 
  – 
  – 
  yes yes 
  A warlock leaching from target warbeast suffers 1 damage point for 
  each fury point leached. The affected warbeast cannot be healed or have 
  damage transferred to it and loses Regenerate. 
  battle lust 
  3 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  Target friendly Faction warrior model/unit gains Fearless 
   and gains an 
  additional die on melee damage rolls for one round. 
  CalaMity 
  3 
  8 
  – 
  – 
  yes yes 
  Friendly models gain +2 to attack and damage rolls against target enemy 
  model/unit. 
  hex blast 
  3 
  10 
  3 
  13 
  no yes 
  Enemy upkeep spells and animi on the model/unit directly hit by Hex 
  Blast immediately expire.
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  Greed, ferocity, and cunning are virtues esteemed by farrow, 
  and Midas lacks for none of these. A potent bone grinder, 
  he is empowered by lives stolen and feasted upon. The 
  energies released in death are weapons and tools for Midas, 
  who consumes his foes to gain their powers and knowledge. 
  At his command, the bones of fallen beasts become animate 
  and dead flesh rises to fight again. 
  Midas’ ambition and interests fueled his quick ascent 
  among his people. As a youth, he observed that the stronger 
  beasts fed upon the weaker. He felt a fascination with and 
  affinity for the predatory brutes of the wild and sought to 
  Midas
  Minion farrow bone grinder warloCk
  You eat only to stay alive. I take in the essence of what I consume and make it my own. 
  —Midas
   5 
  7 
  6 
  4 
  14 16 
  8
  MIDAS
   
  POW 
  P+S
  BONE SAW
   
  6 
  13
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  6 
  DAMAGE 
  16 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  WARbEAST POiNTS 
  +5 
  SMAll bASE 
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  curse – This model also gains these benefits when charging or 
  attacking a cursed model. Modifiers to movement apply only to a 
  model’s normal movement. 
  hex blasT – Because they expire immediately, upkeep spells and 
  animi that had an effect when the model/unit was hit or damaged 
  will have no effect. 
  PeT ceMeTery – A warbeast returned to play is no longer 
  destroyed, so Farrow Bone Grinders cannot choose its animus for 
  Bone Magic until the warbeast is destroyed again.
  
  123
  Carver clashed in a battle that challenged the great chieftain 
  more than any that had come before. Though Midas was 
  defeated, after their clash Carver refrained from delivering 
  the killing blow. Impressed at the ferocity of the bone 
  grinders who held to the last, Carver offered Midas a place 
  in his alliance. The bone grinder begrudgingly accepted, 
  seeing this as the best chance to continue his work. He has 
  become a powerful asset to the Thornfall Alliance, but his 
  mind is on the next opportunity to devour the flesh and 
  souls of creatures he has not previously tasted and his 
  never-ending quest to improve his mastery of the bone 
  grinder arts. 
  
  124
  feat: dark waters
  When Rask calls upon the dark 
  powers he has mastered amid 
  the dank fens and marshes, 
  he summons into being a 
  thick and murky fog redolent 
  with the stench of the swamp, 
  blinding his enemies and 
  making the air itself almost too 
  thick to move through. 
  While in Rask’s control 
  area, friendly Faction 
  models cannot be targeted 
  by attacks or charges made 
  by models more than 5˝ 
  away from them. Dark 
  Waters lasts for one round. 
  Minion – This model will work for Circle, Legion, Skorne, and 
  Trollbloods. 
  rask 
  amphibious – This model ignores the effects of deep and 
  shallow water and can move through them without penalty. 
  While completely in deep water, it cannot be targeted by ranged 
  or magic attacks and can make attacks only against other 
  models in deep water. While completely in deep water, this 
  model does not block LOS. 
  Call to Sacrifice [Bog Trog] – If this model is disabled by an 
  enemy attack, you can choose a non-disabled trooper model 
  of the type indicated in its command range to be destroyed. If 
  another model is destroyed as a result of Call to Sacrifice, this 
  model heals 1 damage point. 
  Gatorman Warlock – This model can have only Minion 
  Gatorman warbeasts in its battlegroup. 
  trident Cannon 
   Magical Weapon
  ammo Type – Each time this weapon is used to make an attack, 
  choose one of the following abilities: 
  • arcane Interference – When this model hits another model 
  with an attack, upkeep spells and animi on the model hit 
  expire and it loses the focus points on it. When this model hits 
  a warjack with an attack, that warjack suffers Disruption. (A 
  warjack suffering Disruption loses its focus points and cannot 
  be allocated focus or channel spells for one round.) 
  • Energy Siphon – When this attack hits an enemy model with 
  1 or more focus or fury points on it, that model loses 1 focus 
  or fury point and this model gains 1 fury point. 
  • Paralysis – A living model hit by this weapon has its base 
  DEF reduced to 7 and cannot run or charge. Paralysis lasts for 
  one round. 
  saCral blade 
   Magical Weapon
  Of all bog trogs, only Rask has had the qualities to stand amid 
  the gatormen of the Blindwater Congregation as anything 
  akin to a peer. His treacherous methods would be reviled in 
  any other species, but among his cold-blooded kind he has 
  earned respect. Rask is a survivor, a quality prized above all 
  others by bog trogs. He has shown a willingness to betray his 
  kind to save himself, since his destruction could come at any 
  time within the jaws of the warlocks alleged to be his allies. 
  When Bloody Barnabas’ war of subjugation swept 
  through Blindwater, the battles against the bog trogs were 
  particularly fierce. Dozens of bog trog villages were utterly 
  consumed by gatormen. Rask, who had risen to prominence 
  among them, saw firsthand the scope of destruction and 
  knew instantly that his people could never halt the advance 
  of the gatormen. 
  Risking death if he failed, Rask went to Barnabas and 
  Calaban and made an unexpected offer: in exchange for 
  his life and the survival of his tribe, he would assist the 
  Blindwater Congregation in crushing any resistance. He 
  made good on this by turning on the rest of his kind, using 
  his powers to slaughter any who would not surrender. 
  Those who lived were cowed into submission and enslaved 
  to become the cannon-fodder troops of the Congregation. 
  Rask feels no shame, knowing that without him, no bog 
  trogs would have lived. The bog trogs he leads are aware 
  of the blood on his claws but fear his powers and the beasts 
  at his disposal. Many of them, in their cold-blooded way, 
  admire Rask for achieving a status they could not. 
  adMonition 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yes no 
  When an enemy model advances and ends its movement within 6˝ 
  of target model in this model’s battlegroup, the affected model can 
  immediately advance up to 3˝, then Admonition expires. The affected 
  model cannot be targeted by free strikes during this movement. 
  boundless Charge 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  no no 
  During its activation, target friendly model can charge without spending 
  focus or being forced and gains +2˝ movement and Pathfinder 
   when it 
  charges. Boundless Charge lasts for one turn. 
  fury 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yes no 
  Target friendly model/unit gains +3 to melee damage rolls but suffers  
  –1 DEF. 
  inhospitable ground 3 
  self Ctrl 
  – 
  no no 
  While in this model’s control area, enemy models treat open terrain as 
  rough terrain. Inhospitable Ground lasts for one round.
  spells 
  Cost 
  rng 
  aoe pow up off
  Rask
  Minion bog trog warloCk
  Rask is poison. 
  —Wrong Eye
   5 
  7 
  6 
  7 
  15 15 
  5
  RASK
  TRIDENT CANNON
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   10 
  1 
  — 
  12
   
  POW 
  P+S
  SACRAL BLADE
   
  4 
  11
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  6 
  DAMAGE 
  15 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  C 
  WARbEAST POiNTS 
  +6 
  SMAll bASE
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  aMPhibious – This model can attack other models that are in deep 
  water. 
  arcane inTerference – If the model hit is part of a unit, upkeep 
  spells and animi on that unit also expire. 
  bounDless charge – Modifiers to movement apply only to a 
  model’s normal movement. 
  
  125
  Those who understand the perilous deal he has entered 
  into either envy Rask for his limited freedom or watch and 
  wait for Barnabas to deem he has outlived his usefulness. 
  Meanwhile, he proves himself on the battlefield as among 
  the most skillful killers to arise from the bog trogs. With 
  an expert’s precision, he wields a mechanikal weapon 
  once raided from a human caravan and adapted to his 
  preferences. While its empowered bolts give him an edge, 
  his ruthlessness is by far his greatest weapon.
  
  S
  P
  i
  R
  i
  T
  b
  O
  D
  y
  M
  i
  N
  D
  6
  5
  1
  2
  3
  4
  126
  h
  razor boar 
  Bacon – When this model 
  is destroyed, each living 
  warbeast B2B with it heals 
  d3 damage points. 
  Lesser Warbeast – This 
  model cannot make power 
  attacks. 
  ripping tusks 
  Brutal charge – This model 
  gains +2 to charge attack 
  damage rolls with this 
  weapon
  For as long as the tribes of the farrow have 
  gone to war, they have been accompanied 
  by the vicious razor boars. As large 
  as wolves, razor boars are deadly, 
  untamed creatures that require little 
  incentive or training to join the farrow 
  in battle. When loosed upon an enemy, 
  razor boars charge in heedless of their 
  own wellbeing, intent only on goring 
  their prey and bringing them low to feast 
  upon their soft flesh. Survivors of farrow 
  raids grow pale when they recall the speed 
  with which a few razor boars reduced a well-
  armed soldier to a heap of rags and bloody bones.
  The farrow have spent generations breeding razor boars 
  with the sole intent of making them larger and more 
  dangerous. Only the biggest boars possessed of the most 
  savage dispositions are chosen to be mated, a primitive 
  breeding program that has resulted in beasts of war barely 
  controlled by their masters. Their “training” includes 
  feeding them fresh kills of diverse races so they develop 
  a strong taste for the flesh of humans, trollkin, skorne, 
  and farrow. The victims’ screams of pain and fear ring out 
  from the butchering complex before each feeding, and the 
  beasts learn to associate them with an impending meal. 
  Thus the sounds of suffering serve only to awaken the 
  beasts’ hunger, making the cacophony of battle sound like 
  a dinner bell to them.
  RazoR boaR
  Minion farrow lesser warbeast
  Don’t let their hunger fool you; my boars are well fed.
  —Lord Carver, BMMD, Esq. III
   6 
  6 
  5 
  3 
  13 14 
  5
  RAzOR BOAR
   
  POW 
  P+S
  RIPPING TUSKS
   
  4 
  10
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  FuRy 
  2 
  ThREShOlD 
  6 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  u 
  POiNT COST 
  2 
  SMAll bASE
  aniMus 
  Cost rng aoe pow up off
  viCious 
  2 
  6 
  - 
  - 
  no no 
  Target friendly Faction warbeast gains Hyper Aggressive for one 
  round. (When a model with Hyper Aggressive suffers damage 
  from an enemy attack anytime except while it is advancing, after 
  the attack is resolved it can immediately make a full advance 
  directly toward the attacking model.) 
  
  127
  Mercenary – This model 
  will work for Cygnar and 
  Khador. 
  Minion – This model will 
  work for Circle, Legion, 
  Skorne, and Trollbloods. 
  gobber tinker 
  Mechanikally adept – 
  This model can attempt to 
  repair friendly non-Faction 
  warjacks and battle engines.  
  Point Blank – During its 
  activation, this model can make melee attacks with its ranged 
  weapon, with a 1⁄2˝ melee range. Do not add this model’s STR 
  to damage rolls made with ranged weapons. Charge attacks 
  made with ranged weapons are not boosted. 
  Repair [8] (Haction) – This model can attempt repairs on any 
  damaged friendly Faction warjack. To attempt repairs, this 
  model must be B2B with the damaged warjack and make a 
  skill check. If successful, remove d6 damage points from the 
  warjack’s damage grid.
  TacTIcaL TIP
  rePair – A wreck marker cannot be repaired. 
  Gifted with an innate mechanikal aptitude, gobbers often 
  find themselves in high demand on the battlefields of 
  western Immoren. A diminutive figure struggling valiantly 
  to return a machine of war to working order amid incoming 
  fire has become an iconic image in tales of battle across the 
  continent. Almost every commanding officer can find a use 
  for a talented gobber tinker and his collection of tools. Many 
  gobbers lead successful mercenary careers as mechaniks for 
  hire, but more than one tinker has been pressed into service 
  by a potential client unwilling to pay his fees.
  Gobber culture places a high value on salvage and finding a 
  use for items that more wealthy races prematurely discard. 
  Gobbers frequently pack small carts with the tools of their 
  He does better work than half my apprentices and doesn’t mind being paid in salvage. The lads in the 
  workshop better take notice!
  —Cygnaran Chief Mechanik Oldo Torton
   6 
  4 
  4 
  4 
  14 12 
  7
  GOBBER TINKER
  PISTOL
   RNG ROF AOE POW
   8 
  1 
  — 
  10
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  trade and set out across the world in search of work and 
  opportunities to test their skill. Armed with their tools, 
  tents, and a trusty sidearm, tinkers can develop a 
  reputation for solid work in harsh conditions and 
  make considerable fortunes—if they survive the 
  rigors of war.
  Tinkers who find themselves wandering the 
  more remote regions of western Immoren often 
  take up with trollkin kriels. Many kriels make 
  extensive use of weapons and devices stolen or 
  bought as surplus from the Cygnaran Army, 
  and a skilled tinker can do well for himself 
  repairing their equipment and war wagons. 
  The standing armies of Cygnar and Khador 
  often employ gobber tinkers as full-time 
  auxiliaries, counting on them to keep their 
  military up and running under the most extreme 
  conditions. Tinkers are possessed of surprising 
  bravery and will not hesitate to gun down 
  enemies who would interfere with their 
  vital repairs.
  DAMAGE 
  5 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  2 
  POiNT COST 
  1 
  MEDiuM bASE
  GobbeR TinkeR
  MerCenary Minion solo
  
  128
  Minions – These models 
  will work for Circle, Legion, 
  Skorne, and Trollbloods. 
  bokor 
   Fearless
   Officer
  amphibious – This 
  model ignores the effects 
  of deep and shallow 
  water and can move 
  through them without 
  penalty. While completely 
  in deep water, it cannot 
  be targeted by ranged or 
  magic attacks and can 
  make attacks only against 
  other models in deep 
  water. While completely 
  in deep water, this model 
  does not block LOS. 
  Death Magic – This model 
  can remove friendly 
  Swamp Shambler in its 
  command range from play to make an additional attack or 
  to boost an attack or damage roll for each Swamp Shambler 
  model removed. When this model would suffer damage, 
  you can choose one or more models in this unit that are in 
  this model’s command range to suffer any number of those 
  damage points instead, divided as you choose. If you do, this 
  model does not suffer that damage. A model cannot suffer 
  more damage as a result of Death Magic than it has unmarked 
  damage boxes. 
  Magic ability [6]
  • Hand of Glory (Hattack) – Hand of Glory is a RNG 3 
  magic attack. Target enemy model hit becomes stationary 
  for one round. 
  Raise Dead – When a living model is destroyed in this model’s 
  command range, this model gains one corpse token. At the end 
  of your next Control Phase, remove all corpse tokens from this 
  model and add one Swamp Shambler Grunt to this unit for 
  each corpse token removed. Swamp Shambler Grunts must be 
  placed in formation. This unit cannot have more than 20 Swamp 
  Shambler Grunts in play at a time. 
  swaMp shaMbler 
   combined Melee attack
   Undead
  amphibious – See above. 
  Fearsome necromancers, gatorman bokors literally wield 
  the powers of life and death. Potent fetishes and occult 
  trinkets dangle from their crude leather clothing, further 
  empowering the bokors’ croaking death chants. Stalking 
  among the war parties of the gatormen, bokors command 
  the walking slave-corpses of bog trogs, using the cadavers 
  in death with the same ruthlessness that first cost them 
  their lives. Should any doubt the terrible power of the 
  gatormen, they need only look upon the bokors and their 
  undead minions.
  Necromancy is the birthright of the bokors, who learn its 
  secrets from the elders of their tribe in their final days. 
  Aging bokors are expected to pass on the secrets of the 
  grave both before and after their own deaths. Once a bokor 
  has transmitted all his knowledge to his protégé, he is 
  ritually murdered and devoured. Portions of his body are 
  fashioned into powerful charms, and he speaks in silent 
  tongues to the new bokor—teaching how, in a fashion, the 
  dead may be returned to the world of the living.
  Every bokor desires deathless slaves for both menial 
  tasks and to serve in times of war, and the tribes of bog 
  trogs that serve the gatormen make ideal candidates. 
  When gatormen congregations war upon one another, 
  they first look to the bog trogs to fill their undead ranks. 
  Even in peace, bog trogs may be preyed upon by the 
  gatormen who enslave them. Accordingly, few bokors 
  want for corpses upon which to work their dark rituals. 
  Individually, the undead bog trogs are easily dispatched, 
  but en masse they become as dangerous as they are 
  loathsome.
  GaToRMan bokoR & boG TRoG swaMp shaMbleRs 
  Minion unit
  For the bokor, life and death are two sides of the same blade.
  —Calaban the Gravewalker
   5 
  7 
  6 
  3 
  12 16 
  8
  BOKOR
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  bOKOR’S DAMAGE 
  8 
  FiElD AllOWANCE 
  1 
  bOKOR & 9 ShAMblERS 6 
  bOKOR: MEDiuM bASE
  ShAMblER: SMAll bASE
  TacTIcaL TIPS
  aMPhibious – This model can attack other models that are in 
  deep water. 
  DeaTh Magic – A model can make additional attacks only during 
  its combat action. 
  Magic abiliTy – Performing a Magic Ability special action or 
  special attack counts as casting a spell. 
  BITE
   
  5 
  12
   
  POW 
  P+S
  TAIL STRIKE 
   
  POW 
  P+S
   
  3 
  10
   5 
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  5 
  3 
  10 13 
  6
  SWAMP SHAMBLER
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  CLAWS 
   
  2 
  8
   
  POW 
  P+S
  
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  MAKEDA & ThE ExAlTED COurT
  Skorne Epic Warlock unit
  130
  Model gallery
  hunTErs GriM
  Trollblood Epic Warlock unit
  MOrvAhnA ThE DAWnshADOW
  Circle light Cavalry Epic Warlock
  
  131
  MiDAs
  Minion Farrow Warlock
  rAsK
  Minion bog Trog Warlock
  
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  MOunTAin KinG
  Trollblood Gargantuan
  
  WOlDWrATh
  Circle Gargantuan
  133
  
  134
  ArChAnGEl
  legion Gargantuan
  
  AffliCTOr
  legion light Warbeast
  135
  rAzOr BOArs
  Minion Farrow lesser Warbeast
  rAzOrWinG GriffOn
  Circle light Warbeast
  
  ThArn BlOOD PACK
  Circle unit
  CATAPhrACT inCinDiArii
  Skorne unit
  WArPBOrn AlPhA
  Circle unit Attachment
  136
  
  137
  MAMMOTh
  Skorne Gargantuan
  
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  painting gargantuans
   Gun corps Brown
   ’Jack Bone
   Umbral Umber
   Thamar Black
   Battledress Green
   Thronwood Green
   Brown Ink
   Beast Hide
  Mountain king: textured stone
  The towering Mountain King is guaranteed to look great 
  with even a basic paint job, but one way to make this beastly 
  centerpiece stand out is to give the mountain growing out 
  of his body some extra texture and character. 
  Step 1) Basecoat the stone with an opaque coating of Gun 
  Corps Brown. 
  Step 2) Using a large Formula P3 flat brush, spatter the 
  stone with ’Jack Bone.
  Step 3) Add additional spattering with a 50/50 mixture of 
  Umbral Umber and Thamar Black.
  Step 4) Apply shading using Battledress Green. Isolate each 
  face of the stone and apply shading separately to each one 
  that requires it.
  Step 5) Apply additional shading using a mixture of Brown 
  Ink and Thornwood Green. Remember that some faces of 
  the stone structure will not receive this and subsequent 
  shades, depending on the direction of the lighting you are 
  simulating.
  Step 6) Using a mixture of Brown Ink and Thamar Black, 
  apply extremely dark shading to rock faces that are 
  overhanging.
  Step 7) Highlight the edges and upward-slanting faces with 
  Beast Hide. Adding some mixing medium to the paint will 
  help the texture show through the layers.
  
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  The Archangel has an enormous amount of detail packed 
  onto a fantastic sculpt. These details are all themes that 
  appear on other Legion beasts, but with the size and detail 
  of the model we can achieve more striking results than on 
  smaller beasts.
  Step 1) In this image, the skin has been highlighted and 
  shaded except for the final Morrow White highlighting. The 
  bony armor plating has been basecoated with a mixture of 
  Battlefield Brown and Beast Hide. The gums and tongue 
  have been basecoated with Carnal Flesh, and the teeth have 
  been basecoated with Menoth White Base.
  Step 2) Use a glaze of Murderous Magenta mixed with 
  Sanguine Base to alter the color of the flesh and mouth. You 
  can also use this mixture to work some color into the wing 
  membranes.
  Step 3) Add Umbral Umber to the mixture from step 2 and 
  work the new mixture into the deeper crevices that separate the 
  folds of flesh. Also blend this mixture into the base of each tooth.
  Step 4) Blend a mixture of Umbral Umber and Exile Blue 
  into the base of the teeth and use it sparingly to separate the 
  various parts from one another.
  Step 5) Blend Frostbite into the back of the mouth and into 
  the gills on the side of the head.
  Step 6) Using a 3:1 mixture of Blue Ink and Turquoise Ink, 
  glaze the areas you painted Frostbite in step 5 to create a 
  glowing effect.
  Step 7) Using Hammerfall Khaki, highlight the armor plates 
  with a series of parallel lines that accentuate the texture of 
  the bony plates.
  Step 8) Shade the brown plates with Brown Ink mixed with 
  a small amount of Battlefield Brown.
  Step 9) Add Thamar Black to the mixture from step 8 and 
  blend the new mixture toward the points of the armor plates 
  and into the crevices as additional shading.
  arChangel: beastly details
   Morrow White
   Battlefield Brown
   Beast Hide
   carnal Flesh
   Menoth White Base
   Murderous Magenta
   Sanguine Base
   Umbral Umber
   Exile Blue
   Frostbite
   Blue Ink
   Hammerfall Khaki
   Brown Ink
   Thamar Black
  
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  painting gargantuans
  Starting with dark colors and working toward lighter ones 
  is a traditional method of painting that works well on a 
  wide variety of projects. For some projects, though, you 
  can achieve a more striking effect in less time by starting 
  with light colors and working your way through the darker 
  shades. We did just that for the bog trog warlock Rask, and 
  the translucent shading over lighter basecoats adds color 
  and definition to multiple parts of the miniature.
  Step 1) Give the flesh and scales an opaque basecoat 
  of Frostbite mixed with Wurm Green. Basecoat the 
  membranous fins with a mixture of Sulfuric Yellow and 
  Menoth White Highlight. Basecoat the bone armor with 
  ’Jack Bone.
  Step 2) Apply a mixture of Ember Orange and Wurm Green 
  to each of the three areas in a slightly different way. Paint the 
  scales with a wash; shade the bony areas; and apply a glaze 
  to the fins, concentrating the paint near the base of each fin.
  Step 3) Use a mixture of Battledress Green and Ordic Olive 
  to give the bony areas a second shading, give the scales a 
  wash that is concentrated in the crevices, and paint the fins 
  with a series of lines that enhance the texture of the sculpt.
  Step 4) Next, differentiate the areas. Shade the scales with 
  a mixture of Ordic Olive and Cygnar Blue Base. With a 
  mixture of Brown Ink and Yellow Ink, apply some thin 
  glazes on the fins. Shade the bone with Bastion Grey.
  Step 5) Apply line highlights to the scales using Thrall Flesh 
  mixed with a small amount of Wurm Green. Use a mixture 
  of Sulfuric Yellow and Menoth White Highlight to give 
  sparse highlights to the webbing. Finally, apply blended 
  highlights to the bony armor using a mixture of ’Jack Bone 
  and Menoth White Highlight. 
  rask: bog trog flesh
   Frostbite
   Wurm Green
   Sulfuric Yellow
   Menoth White Highlight
   ’Jack Bone
   Ember Orange
   Battledress Green
   Ordic Olive
   cygnar Blue Base
   Brown Ink
   Yellow Ink
   Bastion Grey
   Thrall Flesh
  
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  tharn: antler bows
  Step 1) After priming the entire model with Formula P3 
  Black Primer, basecoat the bows with a couple of layers of 
  thinned Hammerfall Khaki. Using paint that is too thick 
  will obscure the details on the bow. 
  Step 2) Using Cryx Bane Highlight, two-brush blend over 
  the broad areas of the bow. The streaks added to this darker 
  color later will create visual texture. 
  Step 3) Blend some Rucksack Tan over part of the Cryx 
  Bane Highlight to create color transition. Repeat using 
  Rucksack Tan mixed with a little Idrian Flesh. This is to 
  build a foundation for the next step. 
  Step 4) Use your smaller brush to paint thin striations of 
  ’Jack Bone and Menoth White Highlight over the antler.
  Step 5) Using Idrian Flesh, blend transitions around the 
  rings on the bow and where any antler joints occur. Keep 
  the paint a little translucent to allow the texture created in 
  step 4 to show through. Trace the runes carved into the bow 
  with Idrian Flesh. 
  Step 6) Blend Battlefield Brown into the Idrian Flesh to 
  create a darker brown. Clean up the transitions between the 
  browns, tans, and whites with two-brush blending. Touch 
  up any striations that have become muddied. 
  Step 7) Shade and line the breaks between two surfaces on 
  the bow with a mixture of Brown Ink and Thamar Black. 
  Highlight the edges of the runes with ’Jack Bone and 
  Menoth White Highlight. 
   Hammerfall Khaki
   cryx Bane Highlight
   Idrian Flesh
   ’Jack Bone
   Menoth White Highlight
   Thamar Black
   Brown Ink
   Rucksack Tan
  
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  painting gargantuans
  MaMMoth: flesh
  Step 1) Prime the model with Formula P3 Black Primer. 
  Using a 50/50 mixture of Midlund Flesh and Bastion Grey, 
  paint the belly, tail underside, inner arms, and palms. This 
  will serve as the basecoat for the belly. Basecoat the rest of 
  the model in Bastion Grey. 
  Step 2) This step is to create visual texture. Break a 
  packing peanut in half and use the broken face to apply 
  some Cryx Bane Base and Battlefield Brown on the head 
  and upper arms. Using your basecoat colors, blend the 
  horizon where the colors of the grey skin and the belly 
  meet. This doesn’t need to be perfect—just try to blend 
  the seam for a soft transition. 
  Step 3) Using Greatcoat Grey, apply the first layer of 
  shadows to the skin. Mix Greatcoat Grey and Sanguine Base 
  to get a dusky purple and shade the belly with it.
  Step 4) Apply the final shading to the skin with a mix of 
  Greatcoat Grey, Coal Black, and Umbral Umber.
  Step 5) Reclaim parts of the basecoat using Bastion Grey 
  as necessary. Highlight the belly with Midlund Flesh, then 
  highlight the grey skin with Cryx Bane Highlight. Pick out 
  some of the texture of the skin using a mixture of Cryx Bane 
  Highlight and Trollblood Highlight. 
  Step 6) Add a few drops of mixing medium to a 50/50 
  mixture of Beast Hide and Ironhull Grey. Use this to 
  highlight the dark grey skin, blending it over the lines 
  created in step 5. This will soften those lines but allow them 
  to show through. 
  Step 7) Mix Hammerfall Khaki and another drop or two of 
  mixing medium into the previous mixture. Apply this as a 
  highlight on the dark grey skin. Using Midlund Flesh, pick 
  out some of the wrinkles on the belly.  
  Step 8) Using Hammerfall Khaki, add the last highlights to 
  the hide. Mix some Hammerfall Khaki with Midlund Flesh 
  and apply final highlighting to the belly. Finally, use a mix 
  of Red Ink and Sanguine Base to apply a red glaze over the 
  areas of skin with piercings and tears. 
   Midlund Flesh
   Bastion Grey
   cryx Bane Base
   Battlefield Brown
   Greatcoat Grey
   Sanguine Base
   coal Black
   Umbral Umber
   cryx Bane Highlight
   Trollblood Highlight
   Ironhull Grey
   Hammerfall Khaki
   Red Ink
  
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  skorne gold arMor
  Basecoating models that are heavily armored can be 
  challenging. Metallic paints tend to be thicker than non-
  metallic paints and can distort details on the model if 
  applied too thick, and trying to basecoat in thin layers of 
  metallic paint can mean spending a lot of time on the first 
  step. In order to save yourself headache and a lot of time, 
  use drybrushing to apply the basecoat, as we did on the 
  Mammoth. Drybrushing can get messy, which is why it 
  is best as a first step on heavily armored models such as 
  Skorne. Once the basecoat is applied, move on to another 
  area of the model and come back to finish the armor later.
   Solid Gold
  
  144
  western Cygnar in the gnarls
  Once again Madrak Ironhide witnessed the destruction 
  of the Gnarls. Kriel villages were set ablaze and the kin 
  fought desperately against an invading army. This did not 
  seem a dream, but a reality in which he was imprisoned 
  and powerless to do aught but watch from a distance as kin 
  were cut down. They fought bravely, fiercely, yet what he 
  saw was utter ruin.
  This vision was set in the same location but was different 
  in several respects from the one that had been haunting 
  him. The landscape had always been blurred and distorted 
  and the violence almost formless, with a fog obscuring the 
  enemy. While he had repeatedly watched kin suffer and die, 
  he always awoke without knowing who assailed them. Was 
  it Cygnar’s army retaliating for the strike on Ceryl? Or some 
  other enemy? Each time he awoke confounded, certain only 
  that something terrible awaited in the near future. 
  This time the war-torn landscape around him was vibrant, 
  and he could clearly see the enemy. Wolves of Orboros with 
  spears charged while others fired crossbows, and amid 
  them were male Tharn transfigured for battle and fighting 
  alongside other bestial figures in heavier armor. Slavering 
  warpwolves and satyrs rampaged alongside them. 
  Blackclads directed these forces from behind the front lines, 
  wielding powers over storm and earth. 
  There was an air-sundering howl as gigantic creatures 
  stepped from between the trees. Stooped and muscular, 
  with crusted rock formations along their backs and arms, 
  they resembled ancient dire trolls on an unfathomable scale, 
  looming as large over those brutes as a dire troll stood over 
  a warrior of the kriels. Their heavy jaws looked carved from 
  stone, with craggy teeth extending upward several feet. 
  A mist shrouded the scene as they entered the fray. Suddenly 
  he had difficulty making sense of what he was seeing. First 
  the giant creatures fought alongside the blackclads—he 
  saw them hurling kin into their mouths. They shattered 
  buildings, knocked aside full-blood trolls with sweeps of 
  their arms, and crushed others underfoot. Then the scene 
  changed and the walking mountains fought in defense of 
  the kriels, assaulting the Tharn and blackclads.
  Even as his mind grappled with this contradiction the 
  landscape shifted and he stood before a strangely rotted and 
  decrepit tree festooned with dangling bones. In the hollows 
  between its roots lay countless yellowed skulls. Its leafless 
  branches and rune-scarred trunk unsettled him in a way 
  he could not explain, and he sensed a watchful presence. 
  He became aware of a hooded figure standing to his right, 
  arms wrapped in vines. The man’s legs seemed rooted to 
  the earth. He spoke in a droning monotone. “The curse will 
  bring destruction and ruin wherever you are. You cannot 
  escape your fate. I alone know how to end it.”
  Madrak felt a jolt through his being at these words. “How?”
  “There are two ways. One is death, which I can grant you. 
  The other is to surrender to its will. The choice will be upon 
  you soon. Come to me in the mountains.”
  A howling wind swept the cowled figure away. Ironhide 
  felt as though he were falling into a knot of the great tree. 
  Through that aperture he saw the fighting in the Gnarls 
  between the warriors of the United Kriels and the blackclads 
  and their bestial allies. He saw himself alongside the rest of 
  the kin, Rathrok in hand, overcome with blood lust. Once 
  more his vision wavered and it was not himself he saw 
  wielding Rathrok, but a Tharn of singular size and ferocity. 
  His kin were cut down by its edge. 
  Seeing the weapon in someone else’s hands startled him 
  deeply. He had a feeling he had not been meant to see 
  this. The wind increased and the entire scene was scoured 
  away by dust and smoke. Madrak awoke in his chamber 
  in the village of the Gnarls once more, aching as though he 
  had fought a battle. He looked at Rathrok where it leaned 
  against the wall. Its runes gleamed and began to fade. 
  He realized there was a pounding on the closed wooden 
  door. “Chief Ironhide! Hoarluk Doomshaper calls for 
  you.” Madrak felt a splitting headache from the visions 
  swirling in his mind. He quickly dressed, and the familiar 
  weight of Rathrok was in his hand before he even thought 
  to reach for it.
  Ironhide had an apprehension of something momentous 
  brewing as he followed the warrior sent for him. The 
  atmosphere of a war camp in a state of preparation had 
  been replaced by that of an army preparing to march. The 
  warriors who a day before had been carousing were now 
  arming themselves and stocking supplies for the road. He 
  felt rising anger, as the decision to march should have been 
  his to make. There were still kin who had yet to recover 
  from the previous skirmish.
  Doomshaper was at the edge of the village, away from the 
  bulk of the mustering forces. He stood speaking earnestly 
  with Grim Angus, whose leathers showed recent tears 
  among spatters of mud and dried blood. 
  Madrak had been wondering about Grim. He had been 
  surprised when the hunter had vanished without so much 
  as joining them for a meal. The Shaman of the Gnarls had 
  seemed unnaturally high spirited in the following days, with 
  the air of someone savoring a secret. Madrak had refused to 
  question him about it. Despite having joined Doomshaper 
  Mountains that walk
  part two
  
  145
  in exile from his kinsmen, their 
  differences were like a vast chasm.
  Now Grim was back, with the 
  posture of having completed a 
  mission. Madrak narrowed his eyes 
  suspiciously, certain Doomshaper 
  had sent the hunter on some 
  business without letting him know. 
  This troubled him, though he knew 
  Grim was free to do as he saw fit.
  Doomshaper turned toward him 
  with a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes 
  when he approached. “Ironhide. 
  Good. We have important matters 
  to discuss.”
  “Why is the army preparing to 
  march?” he asked bluntly. 
  “A matter of utmost urgency 
  has 
  come 
  to 
  my 
  attention,” 
  Doomshaper said. “Should things 
  go well, you may be free of your 
  obligations to me. You could return 
  to Grissel. To Kargess.”
  Madrak 
  scowled. 
  “What 
  are 
  you talking about?” Part of his 
  frustration came from the secret 
  that it was much more than his 
  obligation to Doomshaper that kept 
  him away from his kin. It was the 
  curse of Rathrok that had driven 
  him away. So long as that remained, 
  he could not in good conscience 
  return. “Is this about Ceryl?”
  Doomshaper shook his head. “No. 
  Perhaps you were correct before, 
  Ironhide. We were too hastily 
  preparing for that battle. The kriels 
  have need of mightier weapons. I 
  intend to correct that.”
  Madrak knew Doomshaper would never easily give up 
  a course to which he had set his mind. “What will the 
  recovery of these weapons require?” He was strongly 
  reminded of his decision to take up Rathrok to fight those 
  menacing the Thornwood.
  “I have worked long years to unravel something I hoped 
  would lead us to the greatest of Dhunia’s children. Those 
  labors have borne fruit, thanks to Grim Angus.” He waved 
  his staff in the direction of the hunter, who was listening 
  to them with an air of indifference. “In his travels here, 
  Grim discovered evidence I have long sought. Armed with 
  this lore, I was able to send him to a location described in 
  the old runes. There he confirmed the resting place of the 
  Mountains That Walk, also known as the mountain kings. 
  We can awaken them! None of our enemies will be able to 
  stand against such creatures.”
  “The mountain kings . . .” Madrak said in an awed whisper. 
  “An old legend. A myth.” 
  “They are real! Buried, chained, below the mountains ages 
  ago. They did not die but are imprisoned, shaking the earth 
  in their slumber, awaiting freedom. We can enlist them to 
  our cause. I have devised the means of freeing them. Stones 
  were set to mark their tombs, as a warning, but it has been 
  
  Mountains that walk, part two
  146
  so long even those are now hard to find. Thanks to Grim, 
  I know one such resting place. This cannot wait. We must 
  march to secure them.”
  Madrak’s thoughts went to his dream, to the giant trolls 
  he had seen in the Gnarls. He felt chilled. This could be no 
  coincidence. “The legends say our ancestors sealed them 
  away for good reasons. That they nearly destroyed the 
  kriels.” He was still reeling at the notion that such creatures 
  really existed. How deeply did their hate run after thousands 
  of years under the mountains? “They are not described as 
  children of Dhunia, but as creatures of the Wurm.”
  Doomshaper seemed unfazed. He drew himself up and 
  said, “Our ancestors did not understand the ties of blood 
  that bind us. Not long ago dire trolls were also thought to be 
  irreconcilable. The imprisoned kings will heed me.”
  The old shaman’s confidence was persuasive, but Madrak 
  was troubled. The creatures in his dreams had stood three 
  times the height of a dire troll, and he had seen them 
  devouring kith and kin with an insatiable appetite. He 
  asked, “Secure them from whom? Why the haste?”
  Grim spoke for the first time. “The place I found 
  Doomshaper’s marker is crawling with blackclads, wolds, 
  and Tharn. Never seen so many in one place. I even saw 
  woldwraths there. That’s not normal.”
  Doomshaper nodded, his eyes bright. “The blackclads know 
  the mountain kings are there and seek to reach them. That 
  cannot happen. Clearly they intend to deprive us of them by 
  destroying them while they are bound. I expect they will find 
  this difficult, but we cannot give them the opportunity.”
  Madrak’s eyes widened as he considered the dream figure 
  that had spoken to him by the decrepit tree. Rathrok had 
  never shown him anything like that before. It seemed this 
  vision must come from somewhere else. 
  His face must have betrayed him. Doomshaper peered at 
  him closely and asked, “What is it, Ironhide? If you know 
  something, speak up!”
  Madrak glared at the shaman, considering his hypocrisy. 
  Still, part of him wanted to speak of what he had seen. 
  He had the growing feeling that his mind was not his 
  own. That this latest vision tied into Doomshaper’s plans 
  suggested some other agency at play. He admitted, “I have 
  seen things, in my dreams.” He spoke of the Gnarls on 
  fire, of the mountain kings, of the two different battles he 
  had seen. He did not speak of seeing Rathrok wielded by 
  a Tharn chieftain or the hooded figure that had mentioned 
  breaking its curse.
  Doomshaper listened, nodding. Then he asked, “You have 
  not had such visions before?”
  Madrak considered the other dreams and visions Rathrok had 
  inflicted upon him. “I have never seen images of the future, 
  no.” He felt this was truthful enough. “Perhaps just a dream.”
  “No ordinary dream.” Doomshaper shook his head sagely. 
  “That you should see such things, even as Grim brings us 
  this news? It is a warning, a guiding hand.” He paused 
  with furrowed brow, considering. When he continued, his 
  voice was steely. “The blackclads do not seek to destroy the 
  mountain kings. They seek to control them.” The shaman 
  clenched his fist. 
  “Is that even possible?” Grim asked, startled.
  Doomshaper’s expression became thoughtful. He said, 
  “Our ancestors were not wrong to say the mountain kings 
  are children of the Father; it is from him they get their 
  hunger. The blackclads can manipulate anything tied to the 
  Wurm, even those of our blood. We cannot allow them to do 
  whatever they plan.”
  Madrak sighed, knowing he had given Doomshaper 
  ammunition. He asked Grim, “Where did you find this marker?”
  Grim pointed east and said, “Up in the Helmsreach of 
  the Wyrmwall, past Haltshire Lake. But as I warned, the 
  blackclads are there in force, and they’ll know we’re coming.”
  Madrak heard the echo of the hooded figure’s invitation to 
  the mountains and felt a strange chill. To Doomshaper he 
  finally said, “Very well. We march at once.”
  helMsreaCh in the wyrMwall Mountains
  Kromac leapt down the rock face using a series of narrow 
  stony platforms where the waterfall tumbled from the 
  cliff face. He carried the corpse of a large boar over his 
  shoulder, and its blood streaked down his torso. The 
  stones were slippery from the cold water but he landed in 
  perfect control, not waiting to see how the white manes and 
  chieftains behind him fared. None managed the descent 
  with any grace, although they reached the broader plateau 
  at the base without serious injury. 
  Most of the rest of Kromac’s Tharn followers were also on 
  the way, although they had not risked the more direct but 
  far more dangerous route chosen by the warlock. All had 
  felt the tree’s summons and knew where they must go. 
  The feeling had come upon them shortly after their battle 
  with the skorne near Lake Scarleforth, after Kromac had 
  recovered his axe from the trollkin who had defiled it. The 
  stone keepers awaited them and sent them hence without a 
  word. All ways opened when called by Wurmwood. 
  Kromac walked in the form of a shaman of the Wurm, 
  leaving his bestial side locked away. He had eyes only for 
  the ancient tree, ignoring the activity elsewhere along the 
  plateau, where wolds and skinwalkers labored to clear 
  chunks of stone from a sheer cliff face. As he neared he 
  
  147
  before. “It might keep the bog trogs away,” he noted, 
  prompting Muggs and Krump to begin retelling the tale of 
  their encounter with Rask again. Even for the hardy trollkin, 
  though, it was unnerving to hear the wind howling through 
  Demonhead Pass. 
  They had food ample enough for the trollkin, but the trolls 
  were another matter. Grim and his band of skinners and 
  scouts did what they could, venturing into the nearby hills 
  and valleys after game. The size of the force was enough 
  to keep every hunter busy, and several times they returned 
  with horses Madrak was certain had been pulling human 
  wagons they had passed.
  Wary, they prepared for conflict as they departed the 
  main road and passed the shores of Haltshire Lake. If bog 
  trogs were nearby this time, they saw nothing to gain in 
  attacking, for the trollkin passed unassailed. They next 
  entered a valley where the mountains rose on either side 
  of them like teeth, their tops obscured by brooding clouds. 
  Grim led them along a winding path into the heights, and 
  Madrak began to eye every grotto and grove of trees as 
  possible ambush points. 
  The first attack came that evening as their long, loose 
  column had almost reached a spot Grim thought suitable 
  to encamp. Heading toward a sheltered area amid a copse 
  of trees, the front of the line had passed several loose rock 
  formations at the opening of a defile. The stones suddenly 
  shook into motion and transformed into rune-carved wold 
  constructs that struck without hesitation, swinging massive 
  stony fists at the nearest warriors. Those behind heard the 
  meaty crunches of bones snapping as several kin were 
  crushed before most apprehended anything was amiss. 
  Simultaneously, a number of smaller rune-carved stone 
  creatures floated into view from along a ridgeline to their 
  left. The woldstalkers fired searing bolts of mystical energy 
  down into the trollkin ranks. Completing the ambush, a 
  dozen twig-like creatures clambered out from the trees to 
  beset those at the fore. Several of these attackers sprayed 
  splintering wood that tore through the warriors, piercing 
  skin and vital organs. Behind them, tapering stone spires 
  pulsed with green energy as they mystically gathered wood 
  to assemble more manikins.
  Mulg loosed a rage-filled bellow and leapt at the tallest 
  woldwarden, bringing his tree-sized club around for a blow 
  that forced it to stagger back. Doomshaper’s other dire 
  trolls leapt to join him, roaring. Madrak unleashed his trolls 
  to join the fray. His axer Bron charged one of the nearer, 
  smaller wolds. Warriors had drawn axes, blades, and clubs 
  as their shamans chanted prayers to Dhunia. Borka and his 
  dire troll Rök were already in motion, charging another 
  of the woldwardens. Several of the nearest champions 
  sounded their war cries and raced to follow. 
  hefted the boar’s body down to the venerable tree’s roots, 
  offering a blood sacrifice as was the tradition. He knelt and 
  bowed his head. He said the words of greeting and praise in 
  Molgur, suppressing his apprehension. The sacrifice should 
  have been greater, with the hearts of men, but the urgency 
  of the summons had not permitted him to find a settlement. 
  He heard footsteps and turned to face the approaching 
  figure of Cassius the Oathkeeper, who gestured for him to 
  rise. The other Tharn who had followed him had arrayed 
  themselves respectfully in a semicircle before Wurmwood 
  and kept their heads bowed. All had brought their own 
  lesser kills as offerings.
  “You arrived swiftly,” Cassius said, his eyes below his hood 
  distant, as though his mind were far away. “You are sworn 
  to the Stormlord. Yet you will do as bid?”
  Kromac considered this, folding his bloodied arms across 
  his chest. All interactions with the Oathkeeper might be 
  tests from Wurmwood, one of the oldest and most primal 
  of powers, a conduit to the Wurm. He said, “My vows to 
  the Tree of Fate are deeply rooted.” He did not feel this 
  was a betrayal—Krueger was merely a mortal ally, whereas 
  Wurmwood was an agent of the Beast of All Shapes.
  Something in Cassius’ bearing changed as he suddenly 
  stared out beyond Kromac, his eyes unfocused. His voice 
  deepened and became resonant as he said, “The Stormlord is 
  to be the oracle of the apocalypse. You will be its champion. 
  It falls to you to reclaim the axe of Horfar Grimmr, stolen 
  ages ago by the Crone. You will wield World Ender.”
  Kromac did not understand the meaning behind the words, 
  but comprehension was not required. The words had a 
  weight like heavy chains. He said solemnly, “As the Tree of 
  Fate requires, Oathkeeper.”
  The army marched east into the mountains, and Madrak felt 
  relief he had forestalled the anticipated strike against Ceryl. 
  Borka was of another mood entirely; though he had been 
  disappointed at first, after hearing Grim tell of the scope of the 
  Circle forces awaiting them he became more enthusiastic. He 
  seemed to enjoy the prospect of venturing into the mountains 
  as winter loomed, as if returning to his frozen homeland. Rök 
  and the winter trolls were heartened as well.
  They made their way along what the humans called Twelve 
  Day Road, past Demonhead Pass, and up into the Wyrmwall 
  Mountains. Several times they frightened away travelers. 
  Madrak ensured the trolls were kept under close watch and 
  not allowed to chase after caravans. 
  The air cooled as they ascended. Grim confirmed it was 
  considerably colder than when he had passed through 
  
  Mountains that walk, part two
  148
  Madrak shouted orders to the nearest of the sluggers that 
  served as his personal escort, pointing along the ridge 
  where woldstalkers were firing down. They lifted their 
  heavy weapons to shoot at the floating stones, although 
  the elevation and the rocky ridge that partially shielded 
  the constructs worked against them. Several of their targets 
  chipped apart, but most were untouched. Madrak loaned 
  his will to his impalers Jor and Holg, strengthening their 
  arms as they hurled their spears upward. 
  He heard the distinct boom of Grim’s rifle and saw a 
  blackclad tumble down the rock face from his hiding spot. 
  “Kill the druids to weaken the stalkers!” Grim shouted as he 
  reloaded Headhunter. Madrak spotted another black-robed 
  figure, easily overlooked in the twilight, directing wolds. 
  Rathrok became hot to his touch and its runes gleamed as 
  rage filled him. With a great cry he charged up the steep 
  incline. He drew on Jor’s essence to empower his arm and 
  then hurled the axe upward. It was a difficult throw but the 
  axe flew true, tumbling end over end before sinking deep 
  into the chest of the blackclad. Madrak felt stings along 
  his flesh as stalkers fired on him but ignored them. When 
  he reached the stalkers, Rathrok once again in hand, he 
  shattered each to rubble. 
  He relished hunting down the few blackclads that had 
  controlled them. When the last of those fell, he came back 
  to himself. As the red haze faded he could feel the pain of 
  multiple burns along his chest, arms, and legs, although the 
  damage seemed superficial. He saw that the nimbler scouts 
  and skinners had taken to the ridge to join him. 
  Madrak felt a strange sensation, as of eyes upon him, and he 
  looked upward to the higher reaches of the nearest mountain. 
  His breath caught as he saw the distant silhouette of a 
  strange and ominous tree. He squinted against the setting 
  sun and wished he had Grim’s rifle with its magnifying 
  scope. It was too far to be sure, but something told him this 
  was the tree from his dream. He had the distinct impression 
  it was weighing him.
  His attention returned to the battle below, and he saw the 
  brief clash was already over. Between Borka, Doomshaper, 
  and the dire trolls, the wolds had been reduced to battered 
  chunks of stone and wood. The rune-carved pillars had 
  been shattered as well. Scouts and warriors ranged out to 
  ensure nothing else lay in wait. 
  Madrak looked back up the mountain but could not find the 
  tree. He clambered down the hillside with his kin, finding 
  the route more treacherous than it had seemed when he 
  had ascended. Doomshaper awaited him, eyes appraising. 
  Madrak was in no mood to hear the shaman’s advice, so he 
  walked past his full-blood trolls to find his own stretch of 
  ground for a few hours’ sleep. He hoped not to dream.
  At daybreak the gathered army set out to continue the climb 
  into the mountains, spirits high from the decisive outcome 
  of the previous day’s clash. The ease with which they 
  had overwhelmed the ambushing forces had the warriors 
  excited. Some of this talk was necessary to get them in the 
  proper frame of mind for the next fight, but to Madrak’s 
  ear they seemed overconfident. There had been only a few 
  blackclads; the rest had been dispensable wood and stone. 
  They would face worse threats soon enough. 
  The fell callers’ voices boomed out to urge on the warriors 
  and champions, while chroniclers entertained with tales of 
  previous victories. The pipers likewise encouraged them 
  onward as they climbed into the cold mountains. 
  “Can we make more of a racket?” Grim asked Madrak and 
  Doomshaper, annoyed.
  Borka, nearby, laughed. “I think they know we’re coming!” 
  Madrak was inclined to agree. Their army was too large for 
  stealth. The enemy would be prepared.
  Madrak surveyed their force critically. It was a massive war 
  band gathered from the Gnarls, and thanks to Doomshaper 
  they boasted a sizable complement of trolls, with Mulg and 
  other dire trolls the greatest of them. A pair of earthborns 
  strode on either side of Mulg like a pair of craggy 
  bodyguards. Relations among the dires was unpredictable 
  as their pecking order shifted, but Mulg always remained 
  comfortably at the top. 
  Aside from a few veteran fennblades, the rank and file 
  were loosely disciplined kriel warriors drawn from the 
  various Gnarls kith, many young and impulsive. They were 
  supported by a strong contingent of champions, including 
  those who had accompanied Borka south, such as Skaldi 
  Bonehammer. But more than experience or the lack thereof, 
  what worried Madrak was their lack of modern arms and 
  weaponry. Aside from a few sluggers and Grim’s small 
  escort of rifle-bearing pygs, they were relying on axe, 
  hammer, and blade. They lacked dire troll blitzers and 
  bombers, having left most with Grissel and Gunnbjorn. 
  Madrak would have given half his numbers to have better 
  equipped, more disciplined troops. 
  Madrak had brought his full-blood trolls, including his 
  faithful fighting companions Jor and Bron and the less 
  experienced impaler Holg. In the Gnarls he had picked up 
  a tough and protective bouncer named Gald. Madrak had 
  begun to think of the looming hulk of armored flesh as 
  his shadow. The hulking white-haired dire troll Rök was 
  never far from Borka, along with his winter trolls. So far 
  it seemed Rök preferred to keep his distance from Mulg, 
  which was for the best.
  
  149
  Grim was the least supported of the group, given the casualties 
  he had taken against the bog trogs. He was down to his last 
  two impalers, Thokk and Drogg, when one day during their 
  hike he disappeared for a time. Madrak assumed he was 
  simply scouting ahead as he often did, until he returned near 
  nightfall with three young slag trolls in tow. The new arrivals 
  were enthusiastically greeted, not least by Borka, who clapped 
  Grim hard on the shoulder in appreciation. 
  The hunter explained he had seen signs of a lair nearby on 
  his previous journey. Slag trolls were ornery and stupid, but 
  they were fond of eating stone and had developed an acidic 
  expectoration that would serve well against the weapons of 
  the blackclads. Borka, Grim, and Madrak each took charge 
  of one. Madrak introduced his to Bron, knowing the axer 
  would keep it in line. 
  They did not stop for the night, as Grim told them they were 
  close. It was eerily quiet as they marched. Madrak felt more 
  than slightly peculiar, as he had begun to experience the 
  waking visions. There was a sour feeling in his stomach and 
  he began to think Rathrok was the cause, as if the axe sensed 
  some momentous impending reunion.
  Drums began beating somewhere ahead, low and steady, 
  thrumming through the mountain passes. In response the 
  trollkin drummers and pipers increased their own tempo 
  and volume and the warriors readied weapons. A howling 
  rose above the din, large and disembodied, as of many 
  bestial voices. The sound made Madrak’s brow itch; he had 
  heard it before, deep in the Thornwood, where the Tharn 
  had once warred against his kriel.
  He was not far back from the front ranks of their advancing 
  force as they rounded the last bend to reach a broad 
  plateau—their destination. They turned inward toward the 
  tallest of the mountain peaks, a backdrop for a sheer cliff 
  face where a waterfall descended through a series of ledges 
  to the floor of an expansive clearing, with copses of trees 
  scattered along the outer edges. Just above the rock face 
  rose a distinctive pillar, worn smooth by time, which drew 
  Madrak’s eye. This was the marker left by the ancients to 
  warn of the Mountains That Walked imprisoned here, sunk 
  into the earth by prayers to Dhunia. 
  Large chunks of granite had been cleared away from the cliff 
  wall. This excavation extended into the floor of the plateau, 
  creating an amphitheater against the cliff. The entire region 
  was crawling with wold constructs, the smallest dwarfed 
  by the three tremendous woldwraths laboring to smash the 
  cliff face. Most of the wolds had turned toward where the 
  trollkin had begun to debouch, and it was eerie to see them 
  moving as one at some unseen imperative.
  Madrak saw a heavyset blackclad with them, a bald man 
  bearing a large sword of stone. He swallowed as he spotted 
  the familiar twisted tree at the edge of the amphitheater. 
  Beside it stood a robed figure with a sword, wrapped in 
  vines, who looked serenely across the valley.
  All of this was absorbed in an instant before he turned his 
  attention to survey the immediate situation. The ground 
  ahead had been broken by a rough area of shattered earth, 
  with stones at odd angles alongside loose rock. The forward 
  warriors could gather no momentum, as they had to clamber 
  around these, but they were encouraged onward by their 
  shamans and pipers. Several near the fore labored to carry 
  long stone cabers, eager to hurl them at approaching enemies.
  Ahead of the towering wolds, more Tharn than Madrak 
  had ever seen in one place rushed toward battle. They 
  had transformed into hulking brutes, the ones at the 
  fore carrying axes, while behind them were others with 
  long, powerful bows that sent heavy arrows into the front 
  ranks of the trollkin. Not just Tharn, Madrak realized. 
  Among those were creatures even more bestial: massive 
  warpwolves and warpborn skinwalkers, whose furred 
  manes and wolf-like heads suggested an affinity with 
  them. Woldstalkers had lined up along an elevated section 
  of rock to the left of their entrance and began to fire in 
  concentrated bursts. The first ranks of warriors entering 
  the area quickly fell, impaled by arrows and struck by the 
  focused energy of the woldstalkers.
  “Forward! Quickly!” Madrak shouted as he pushed ahead, 
  raising Rathrok to signal those behind. “Koltor, move your 
  warriors up!” This order was directed at one of the nearest 
  senior Gnarls heroes, who fought alongside a number 
  of grizzled champions. Madrak led them forward while 
  invoking runes of sorcery to surround him and spread 
  outward to strengthen the legs of the closest warriors. Their 
  steps became sure as they crossed the jagged ground, no 
  longer slowed. Borka also raced forward to join Madrak, 
  bringing a rushing wind that swept aside all incoming fire. 
  The two warlocks’ trolls pushed lesser warriors aside in 
  their haste to join their masters, frustrated at the chokepoint. 
  They served as a wall of flesh to intercept projectiles heading 
  toward kin behind them. Gald raised his thick shield to block 
  an arrow that would have skewered the nearest shaman, 
  who invoked prayers to stir all who listened to fighting 
  readiness. So, too, the chroniclers with their scrolls invoked 
  the power of legends, and by their efforts a mist arose to 
  veil the area where the trollkin emerged. Behind them came 
  the krielstone bearers, their burdens conveying additional 
  the first ranks of warriors 
  entering the area quiCkly 
  fell, iMpaled by arrows 
  and struCk by the foCused 
  energy of the woldstalkers .
  
  Mountains that walk, part two
  150
  blessings of hardiness. Thus bolstered, more warriors made 
  it through the hail of fire to crash into the wall of howling 
  Tharn and skinwalkers. 
  Not far ahead, Borka waded into the thick of it, his heavy 
  mace hammering through ravagers with an ease no other 
  kin could match, sending them flying with shattered ribs 
  and fractured skulls. Rök fought nearby, and he seized a 
  Tharn and hurled him over the edge of the nearby cliff. 
  Madrak remained focused on pressing toward the main 
  floor of the plateau. The urgency with which the woldwraths 
  hammered on that wall seemed ominous. 
  The red battle haze overtook him amid the carnage. The 
  stones near the entrance to the plateau were soon slick with 
  blood. His anger rising with every kin who fell, he sent 
  Rathrok to strike down any enemy he could reach. He drew 
  on the power of Jor and Holg to extend their throws, while 
  Gald and Bron fought alongside him. They pushed on to 
  widen a wedge of death onto the plateau, gaining ground for 
  other trolls to join the warriors, who also pressed forward. 
  One of the groups of fennblades assisted by Madrak’s magic 
  had charged up the slope to drive away the woldstalkers 
  and their controller. The sluggers followed and from the 
  elevated position began to fire on the Tharn farther back, 
  retaliating against the blood pack archers. Grim’s force 
  moved past the sluggers to climb to the higher ridges of the 
  more accessible portion of the ridge to their left where they 
  could gain a good vantage. Scouts with axes in hand joined 
  him in clearing a path.
  Doomshaper was farther back, amid the second group of 
  warriors trying to reach the plateau. His dire trolls had just 
  pushed through the chokepoint and rushed ahead. Madrak 
  could hear the great shaman’s voice raised as he spoke 
  prayers to strengthen his beasts. At a shout from Borka, 
  Madrak ducked below a Tharn axe, responded with a strike 
  to the ravager’s chest, then kicked him free and turned to 
  find Bron had killed another that had been about to attack 
  from the left. He was anxious to clear room for the dires 
  to join the fray and pointed for Borka to join him as they 
  pressed ahead. The constructs were still approaching across 
  the plateau behind the Tharn, and Madrak knew he would 
  need Mulg and the others to meet them.
  A double howl rose above the din and Madrak raised his 
  gaze to see an enormous Tharn advancing alongside a 
  second wave of ravagers. This leader gripped a blood-
  spattered axe in each hand, by which he carved through an 
  interposing force of trollkin fennblades with appalling ease. 
  His blows seemed as strong as a troll axer’s. 
  At his side and bearing a mighty axe was a tattooed 
  warpwolf crowned with a carved bone headdress like 
  those preferred by the Tharn chieftains. Several other 
  beasts rushed forward at the Tharn’s command, including 
  a thick-coated argus breathing frost, a gorax, and a satyr 
  with bladed forearms. This Tharn and his beasts carved a 
  path of destruction that prompted even the bravest kin to 
  panic and fall back. Madrak had never seen this creature 
  in person, but in his mind arose the name Kromac the 
  Ravenous, a living terror that had plagued the kriels of the 
  Thornwood for decades.
  Madrak felt the Tharn king’s eyes boring into his own and 
  felt another shock of recognition: this was the Tharn from his 
  dream, the one he had seen wielding Rathrok. He intuited 
  at once the creature had come to claim the weapon by 
  murdering him, bringing the death the tree had promised. 
  As the Tharn moved through the intervening trollkin, he 
  demonstrated a joy in carnage that made Madrak feel sick 
  knowing it was the same blood frenzy that had dominated 
  him in recent battles. Die to this brute, or become him—
  were those the only options?
  The bone-crowned warpwolf barreled into Bron and sent 
  the axer flying back through several kriel warriors. It 
  turned on Madrak and raised its axe over its head, opening 
  its slavering jaws even as Ironhide raised Rathrok to block. 
  Before the warpwolf’s blow descended, Gald was there, 
  shield upraised to take the hit. The axe cleaved through 
  the shield, nearly slicing it in half and cutting deeply into 
  the bouncer’s arm. 
  Madrak drew on the defensive strength of the troll to 
  manifest a mystical force that pushed the warpwolf back 
  before it could do additional harm. It howled in frustration 
  as Gald whirled his heavy ball and chain to send the 
  weapon spinning toward the enraged creature, but it nimbly 
  stepped aside, then closed again. Bron got back to his feet 
  and rushed to the bouncer’s defense. Madrak pulled back 
  his axe to strike the warpwolf but was distracted by the 
  fearsome sight of Kromac charging, his eyes gleaming red. 
  The chieftain turned to hurl Rathrok straight at Kromac. 
  Movement out of the corner of his eye checked his motion 
  and resolved itself as Borka running at a full tilt from 
  where he had been fighting to collide with the onrushing 
  Tharn, crashing into him with his spiked shoulder lowered. 
  His expression was fierce and Madrak felt a surge of 
  grateful camaraderie for the northern warlock coming to 
  his defense. His appreciation became shock as Borka and 
  Kromac tumbled together across the blood-slicked floor of 
  the plateau toward the edge of the cliff. 
  die to this brute, or  
  beCoMe hiM—were those  
  the only options?
  
  151
  The momentum of the impact combined with the downward 
  slope sufficed to send them both off the edge. The Tharn’s 
  warbeasts and Borka’s trolls momentarily separated and 
  hastened to the cliff edge. Failing to save their masters, they 
  unleashed their rage upon one another. Madrak had no time 
  to consider Borka’s fate, though, as more skinwalkers and 
  Tharn closed. Rathrok fed on his anger as he considered the 
  death of so many kin and the appalling loss of Borka. He 
  had no recourse but to unleash a tide of blood. The axe in 
  his hands responded to his will, flying from his fingers to 
  slay anything it touched.
  Kromac had been utterly focused on his intended prey 
  and consumed by the blood rage of his bestial form. He 
  had not heeded the mental warning from his argus before 
  the massive trollkin had barreled into him. He managed 
  to retain his hold on his axes as the two of them tumbled 
  into the yawning void. Instinctively he drew on the inner 
  nature of the winter argus to toughen his skin with a rime 
  of mystical frost that shattered as he impacted a wide 
  outcropping. The wind was knocked from his lungs and 
  his vision filled with spots. He could feel the crunching of 
  several ribs, but the battle rage had not left him and he felt 
  no pain, only disorientation. 
  He heard a thud as the trollkin landed nearby. There was 
  a howl of anger and frustration from Ghetorix above, who 
  was himself distracted as a ferocious white-haired dire troll 
  wielding an axe beset him. Kromac’s heart pounded and he 
  drew on his beast’s rage to fuel his own as he leapt back to 
  his feet, everything he saw tinged red with the blood haze 
  of murderous impulses. He gave a deep howl and closed 
  on the trollkin, feeling euphoric triumph as he brought his 
  right axe down for a killing strike. 
  The trollkin moved quickly, rolling closer to the cliff face 
  on the narrow ledge, and the axe blade chipped the stone 
  where he had been. Then he was on his feet, his expression 
  fierce and gleeful. Wielding a massive mace in one hand, 
  he grinned and beckoned to Kromac with the other, as if 
  relishing the chance to feel the wrath of Kromac’s axes. 
  The Tharn king jumped forward to attack, channeling the 
  Wurm to empower his limbs. Even as they clashed with 
  murderous intensity, runes surrounded the trollkin and his 
  skin darkened and developed a dull metallic sheen. Kromac 
  swept his axe Dusk sideways in a brutally swift swing to 
  cut the insolent trollkin in half, but his enemy flinched back 
  just enough to diminish the blow. Kromac’s axe cut through 
  thick hide and slid along the skin of the trollkin’s belly, but 
  there was no satisfying trail of blood. It was as if the trollkin 
  warlock’s flesh were impenetrable. 
  Growling deep in his throat and reacting as swift as 
  thought, Kromac reversed himself to bring Dawn around, 
  but the trollkin ducked beneath it. Kromac gave a bellow 
  and swung again, this time driving Dusk downward, 
  anticipating the trollkin’s step, as the width of the 
  outcropping upon which they fought limited his ability to 
  evade. The axe blade sank through his thick furs to cut into 
  his shoulder blade, yet it felt like hacking into a petrified 
  log, and the axe did not penetrate far. The trollkin stepped 
  inside Kromac’s reach, both hands gripping his mace as he 
  delivered a tremendous blow to the side of Kromac’s head 
  with a loud crack, sending him reeling. 
  Kromac’s vision blackened again and he saw bursts of 
  white light. His left ear was filled with a high-pitched 
  whine and blood dripped down his cheek. He huffed 
  with a plume of steamed breath and sent this injury to his 
  argus on the cliff above but was unprepared for the second 
  strike. The trollkin swiftly reversed the blow to send the 
  mace into his left shoulder, shattering his upper arm with 
  an explosion of pain so intense it reached Kromac even 
  through his rage. Dawn dropped from his fingers as his 
  arm fell uselessly at his side.
  All thought vanished as an enraged madness overtook him. 
  He lashed out with Dusk at the trollkin. The axe moved in 
  a flurry of blindingly fast strikes. He was overtaken by the 
  Wurm, and he gladly accepted it into his being. Wounds 
  opened along his body as he pushed himself beyond his 
  limits to hack again and again, carving savagely into the 
  trollkin’s arms, legs, and chest. The trollkin collapsed, 
  blood rushing from multiple gashes onto the cold stone of 
  the outcropping. 
  Kromac was too badly injured to relish the moment. He felt 
  near death; his head spun sickeningly and he still saw spots 
  from the impact to his skull. His battle rage quickly drained 
  away. His body shifted and changed as he became a Tharn 
  shaman again. 
  Above him several of his beasts had fallen. He looked up with 
  alarm to see the dire troll that had brawled with Ghetorix 
  clambering down the cliff, sliding as rocks tore loose. It 
  seemed likely the creature would fall and take him with 
  it. He urged Ghetorix back from the edge, simultaneously 
  pulling on the beast’s energies to knit his body. 
  Kromac made a mighty leap upward, away from the enraged 
  troll, to grab hold of the edge of the cliff and pull himself up. 
  He stumbled back from the main clash, knowing he would 
  need time to recover before hunting down the wielder of 
  World Ender. 
  
  Mountains that walk, part two
  152
  “We must get closer to the rock face!” Doomshaper shouted, 
  pointing with his staff. Mulg and the other dire trolls roared 
  in response and pushed against the wolds in their path. 
  The fight had gone worse than he had anticipated, and the 
  Shaman of the Gnarls had begun to feel a deep concern.
  Madrak objected, “We’re overextended! We need to fall 
  back!” 
  The trollkin had gotten the majority of their army onto 
  the plateau, but most still pushed against the Tharn and 
  skinwalkers close to the entrance. Grim was with this main 
  force lending them his skill and leadership. Madrak and 
  Doomshaper, along with their trolls, had driven deeper into 
  the enemy and now fought amid the stone constructs closer to 
  their goal. With them were only a small number of the fiercest 
  champions and warriors, including Skaldi and his band, 
  who were shouting Borka’s name and fighting to avenge 
  the lost hero of the north. The two groups were cut off from 
  one another, and clearly Madrak felt the need to reunite their 
  forces. Ordinarily this would be a good idea, but they could 
  not afford to turn back. “There is no choice!” Doomshaper 
  insisted. “No matter the losses, we must press on!”
  Madrak did not argue but simply nodded and turned back 
  to the fray. Doomshaper considered something was amiss 
  with the Thornwood chieftain, who had lately seemed 
  almost maddened in battle. He had at first thought it a 
  positive sign that Ironhide had entered into these clashes 
  with more enthusiasm, no longer holding back. But he had 
  begun to see there was more to the situation. There was an 
  emptiness in Madrak’s eyes, and he would stir from that 
  blank stare only at a battle’s end, as if awakening from a 
  dream. Nor was Doomshaper blind to the strange events 
  whereby Madrak would be imperiled and some nearby kin 
  would be wounded or killed instead. It was clear to him the 
  strands of fate bent around the chieftain. 
  He had no time to dwell on this thought. They were suffering 
  more severe casualties, and a number of champions and 
  several trolls had fallen. The slag trolls were proving their 
  worth—their acidic spittle was quite effective against the 
  constructs, and Doomshaper could draw on their essence to 
  lend strength to the blows of his dire trolls, which were doing 
  the heavy work of clearing the way, striking aside anything 
  that stood in their path. Guiding the constructs from behind 
  the wolds were several blackclads, including the stone-sword 
  wielding warlock he had identified as Baldur, who had once 
  feigned friendship with the kriels of the Gnarls. 
  
  153
  They neared the amphitheater against the rock wall, and 
  the forces clashed along its upper lip. Doomshaper saw 
  Baldur glow with inner power. The blackclad charged a 
  dire troll mauler with the heavy weapon he wielded like a 
  cudgel, and in a few swift blows he toppled the far larger 
  creature, battering its legs and then shattering its skull as it 
  fell forward. Distant but accurate rifle fire from Grim drove 
  him to seek cover, for which Doomshaper was grateful.
  The shaman accepted the loss of the trolls pragmatically, 
  sending another dire into the gap, but his attention was 
  elsewhere. He had begun to feel a gathering of mystical 
  energy centered on a cowled figure by a twisted tree near 
  their battle site, and the blood left his face as he recognized 
  the Tree of Fate, another entity from legend. With his 
  mystical sight Doomshaper saw the tree had extended root 
  tendrils outward along the plateau, stretching for hundreds 
  of yards in every direction. They feasted on the blood that 
  slicked the rocks. Even more sinister, its larger roots looked 
  to extend to the cliff face itself, beneath the pillar marking 
  the resting place of the mountain kings. The stone was 
  cracked where the tendrils descended.
  Doomshaper felt a rising apprehension. He had not told 
  Madrak all he knew, for his companion had somewhat 
  delicate sensibilities. From poring over old engravings, 
  piecing together clues and speculations of the ancients, 
  he had deduced that awakening the mountain kings 
  would require significant bloodshed. The chains that held 
  them, the Dhunian shackles, would require the touch of 
  the Wurm to weaken their hold—a sacrifice possible only 
  through blood magic. 
  On first hearing of the Circle forces gathered here 
  Doomshaper had been pleased, knowing this blood could 
  be harvested in battle. There was certainly enough shed 
  now for his purposes, and Doomshaper had begun to 
  prepare himself mentally for the ritual. But the sight of the 
  Tree of Fate told him circumstances were more complicated. 
  He apprehended that the immortal being was already in the 
  midst of some similar rite, its roots glutted with blood. He 
  must wrest back control of the situation. 
  He felt a deep thrumming beneath his feet, like a slowed 
  heartbeat. “I can feel them!” he shouted at Madrak. “We 
  are near enough! Buy me time!” He did not explain further 
  but began to invoke the ritual, calling out sonorous prayers 
  to Dhunia. He unrolled a long scroll that smoldered with 
  power in his grasp even as circles of runes extended 
  around him. 
  Madrak had fought in the familiar haze as the axe urged 
  him to kill with abandon. He had to struggle to rise up 
  from that mist to hear Doomshaper. The shaman’s chanting 
  became more resonant, almost tangible, and Madrak could 
  feel the ritual words resounding in his chest. 
  He nodded acknowledgement to Doomshaper and turned 
  to hurl Rathrok at the bald druid, but a woldwatcher 
  interposed itself to take the strike instead. The axe severed 
  its right arm, which fell heavily to the ground. Its other 
  stone hand pointed at Madrak, and he barely stepped aside 
  as a bolt of greenish lightning surged upward from the soil 
  near him. Bron charged the construct and ended it with two 
  decisive blows of his axe. 
  The ground below their feet trembled as the woldwraths 
  turned away from the wall as if just now aware of the 
  trollkin attackers. Moving with surprising speed, the 
  goliaths of stone and tree trunks charged across the plateau 
  toward the dire trolls in their way. Lightning poured from 
  them to strike among the kin. The nearest blackclads seemed 
  empowered by their presence and sent chunks of rock with 
  perfect accuracy into champions and trolls alike. 
  The towering constructs smashed into the nearest dire 
  trolls. One of them crashed an enormous granite hand into 
  an earthborn to send it tumbling through the air, knocking 
  aside several champions who did not leap out of the way 
  quickly enough. 
  Mulg roared in challenge, seemingly not intimidated by 
  the size of the stone giants, and charged the nearest to 
  hammer it repeatedly with his club, spreading fissures 
  along its rune-inscribed body. The woldwrath backhanded 
  him nearly to the cliff’s edge. Another brought mighty 
  blows raining down on a mauler, knocking it to the ground 
  and battering it lifeless. With each strike of its fists the 
  earth shook, knocking nearby warriors down and making 
  them easy prey for other wolds. As if obeying some other 
  imperative, more of the Tharn and skinwalkers had turned 
  away from the battle nearer the entrance to the plateau to 
  charge Madrak and Doomshaper’s forces. It was the tree, 
  Madrak felt certain, calling to them, commanding all the 
  Wurm-touched creatures to eliminate Doomshaper. 
  One of the earthborns landed several blows against the 
  leg of the nearest woldwrath, shattering it and sending 
  the construct toppling. It crushed several champions as it 
  came down, and Bron was nearly smashed beneath one of 
  its falling fists. Mulg regained his feet in time to help finish 
  it, but two other woldwraths still stood, and several of 
  the dire trolls were already down. The defenders around 
  Doomshaper were fewer and fewer.
  Madrak could feel his mind begin to splinter from a dark 
  pressure that gathered in him like a thunderstorm. He 
  threw himself against the nearest group of skinwalkers 
  and hacked through them wildly. Every downed troll, 
  
  Mountains that walk, part two
  154
  every killed trollkin—all of it fed an unyielding fury that 
  overcame all sense. Madrak looked at the carnage around 
  him as he clove through another foe and remembered the 
  words of his vision. Death or surrender, to rid himself of 
  the curse. All he had to do was give himself to it, to give 
  up his sanity, to become a creature of madness like the 
  warpwolves. He would be free, but at what price? Was 
  there enough power in the axe to prevent the destruction 
  around him? Or would he become the vehicle for the 
  slaughter of the those who were left? 
  Mulg staggered back at another blow from the second 
  woldwrath, his breath labored. Even his significant 
  regenerative abilities were challenged by the strength of the 
  foe. Lightning shot from a woldwrath closer to the ancient 
  tree to explode into a storm of destruction that enveloped 
  the nearest champions. 
  Madrak clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might 
  shatter. He saw Doomshaper chanting with furrowed brow, 
  his eyes clenched tight in focus, mystical runes swirling 
  around him. “I can’t get through to them,” the shaman said 
  hoarsely. “Blood of the Wurm. Bring me blood of the Wurm! 
  Strike with Rathrok, but only on my call.” 
  Madrak could barely comprehend what Doomshaper asked 
  for. Certainly the blood of the Wurm was all around them. 
  He had shed much of it with Rathrok. He saw a warpwolf 
  rushing Doomshaper, battering aside Skaldi Bonehammer 
  with almost casual disregard, sending him flying. The 
  beast’s flesh warped and rippled as his form changed 
  in response to some wild imperative. Surely this would 
  stand for the blood of the Wurm, a creature entirely taken 
  over by chaos. He moved to intercept, even as he felt an 
  overwhelming compulsion to strike. A besieged corner of 
  Madrak’s mind held him back, knowing he must await 
  Doomshaper’s signal. 
  He checked his axe in mid-swing as the warpwolf raked 
  wickedly sharp claws across his chest. Bron whirled and 
  readied to engage the beast, but Madrak clamped down his 
  will to keep him back even as the warpwolf struck again. 
  Madrak accepted the pain and felt his blood flow. The 
  warpwolf opened its eager jaws, ready to feast upon him, 
  when Doomshaper said, “Now!”
  Madrak felt an enormous physical release. His arms 
  glowed with power as he drew Rathrok back and then 
  swung fiercely down to cleave through the warpwolf’s 
  head and well into its chest even as Doomshaper’s prayers 
  reached a crescendo.
  A roaring sound erupted and the axe’s handle burned like 
  white fire, lighting the warpwolf’s corpse ablaze. He was 
  forced to release the weapon and stagger back even as a 
  churning wind as hot as a desert gale shrieked around 
  the fallen foe, whose calcine blood sent dark smoke into 
  the maelstrom. Madrak felt the madness fade, replaced 
  by terror at what he had unleashed. The shriek that filled 
  the air was beyond reckoning, echoing across the plateau 
  and freezing in place all the wolds that fought. Even the 
  enraged trolls staggered and turned. White light blazed 
  forth, so brilliant that Madrak had to avert his eyes. It felt 
  as though some greater presence came into the world amid 
  the heat before him, and he turned his face away, holding 
  his burned hand before it. It was as if the Beast of All 
  Shapes himself screamed through a hole in the world. The 
  howl echoed and rose until there was a loud crack of stone 
  sundering. Once more the earth shook, more violently, this 
  time in sustained tremors.
  It stopped as fast as it had started. The noise and wind were 
  suddenly gone, and the sense of heat and light faded. New 
  sounds arose behind them, a grinding and smashing noise 
  and a deep bellow that seemed in answer to the one that 
  had gone. Madrak felt hard ground beneath his hands and 
  realized he had been knocked to his back. He regained his 
  feet and stood to blink blearily toward the cliff face, which 
  had transformed. Huge holes gaped in stone that had been 
  solid, and striding through them were unbelievably huge 
  figures with formations of rock upon their backs, trailing 
  thick, ancient chains. The mountain kings. 
  Without meaning to, Ironhide took an unsteady step back. 
  Just as in his vision, creatures of legend emerged from 
  the side of the mountain, each at least forty feet tall. One 
  appeared, then another, then two more. 
  They came forth with a palpable fury and rage. When they 
  opened their stony jaws to let loose thunderous bellows, 
  each cry was an echo of the sound Rathrok had unleashed to 
  awaken them. Those howls rippled the air violently to send 
  Tharn flying, shatter eardrums, break bones, and fracture 
  the stone of wolds. 
  The mountain kings immediately began to smash and 
  destroy whatever they could reach. They were utterly 
  indiscriminate, catching up skinwalkers and kriel warriors 
  with equal alacrity to cram them into their stony maws. One 
  seized an entire woldwarden, tore it limb from limb, and 
  hurled the rocks and timbers into its mouth as readily as it 
  might a living thing. Madrak saw whelps beginning to push 
  forth from its skin, spontaneously birthing from its flesh.
  The mountain kings saw the woldwraths, which had 
  turned to face them, and huffed loudly. The gargantuan 
  beasts hurled themselves at one another in a clash that 
  shook the entire plateau. Having been beset by the dires, 
  the woldwraths were already battered and did not long 
  endure the attacks. The Mountains That Walk then turned 
  on anything else near them, rampaging. The forces of the 
  
  155
  blackclads erupted into chaos and did what they could to 
  flee. Every wold on the plateau turned to delay them. 
  Madrak could no longer see the tree, nor the figure that 
  had promised him release from his curse. The fury and 
  anger that had seized him was gone, leaving behind an 
  odd emptiness. He found it difficult to react emotionally 
  to the carnage, to the splendor, glory, and horror of the 
  mountain kings as they crushed Tharn, skinwalkers, and 
  trollkin underfoot and swept entire rows of them aside 
  with their fists.
  The runes around Doomshaper faded and he stared up at 
  the mountain kings as though enraptured. Then, with a 
  start, he turned to Madrak and said with vehemence, “We 
  must take control of them!” He set off, staff in hand.
  Hearing there was a chance they might bring the kings 
  under control brought life back to Madrak’s limbs. He 
  knew he must protect what kin he could. Doomshaper 
  demonstrated utter fearlessness, walking directly in front 
  of the nearest mountain king, who reared back and readied 
  a fist as large as a dire troll, clearly intending to flatten the 
  shaman. Mulg released a bellow and raised his club to swat 
  the mountain king’s knee, then shouted again. 
  The mountain king hesitated and for a moment seemed 
  confused. This gave Doomshaper the time to touch the foot 
  of the great beast and attempt to impress his mental bonding 
  upon it. Madrak watched apprehensively as the mountain 
  king reared back and made a startled noise, shaking its 
  great head. Doomshaper’s brow furrowed in concentration, 
  and after a tense moment the ancient troll settled slightly. 
  It shook its head as if to clear it, then looked expectantly 
  at Doomshaper, who simply pointed toward the enemy. It 
  nodded ponderously once and strode off toward the foe, 
  this time taking better care about where it placed its feet.
  Seeing such bonding was possible, Madrak found the next 
  mountain king and did the same. Soon the two of them had 
  the kings under marginal control, although their primordial 
  minds were raw and full of rage and controlling them was 
  not easy. Both full-blood trolls and kin eyed them with awe 
  and fear as they were sent to finish off the nearest Circle 
  forces, now scattered to small pockets. 
  A battered dire troll lumbered toward Madrak. Amid the 
  chaos it took him a moment to realize it was Rök, his mane of 
  white hair matted with blood. The creature had a mournful 
  look as he lowered a burden to the ground. Madrak sucked 
  in a breath to see the mangled form of Borka Kegslayer, his 
  skin pale and lifeless. His left arm had been hacked off, and 
  his right leg appeared to be connected only by a scrap of 
  skin. Several enormous cuts crossed his body, though there 
  was little blood. Madrak felt tremendous sorrow and knew 
  the same sensation was sweeping through the champions 
  that gathered. Borka’s pyg keg-carrier dropped the barrel of 
  strong spirits he bore, pushed through those gathered, and 
  slumped to his knees. Skaldi, limping from his earlier clash, 
  simply stared at the body.
  Madrak stepped forward uncertainly, trying to summon the 
  right words to mark the parting of such a hero. A hush fell. 
  He took a deep breath, then frowned as he thought he saw 
  the faintest stirring of Borka’s chest. His heart leapt, and he 
  leaned down to feel the war-shaman’s face, but it was cold 
  and clammy. He sighed. Suddenly Borka’s eyes opened, 
  entirely bloodshot. He gave a wet cough, spraying blood, 
  and said in a feeble whisper, “Ale . . .” 
  Despite himself Madrak laughed in surprise, and the 
  reaction spread among those nearest. Borka’s brows 
  furrowed weakly in anger. Ironhide waved to Skaldi, who 
  hastened to fill a stein and hand it across to be poured into 
  Borka’s mouth. He drank it down greedily, choking a little, 
  then closed his eyes, his breathing easing. Madrak turned to 
  the rest of them and said, “He’ll live.” Their cheers echoed 
  across the plateau, and Madrak stepped away.
  As he went to take stock of the rest of the survivors, Madrak 
  felt oddly naked and vulnerable. After a moment he realized 
  Rathrok was not in hand. He felt stunned to his core as he 
  considered that perhaps it was gone. Had he actually rid 
  himself of it? It was impossible to believe he could have done 
  such a thing without noticing. He felt a strange liberation, 
  a moment of wonder and hope. He could finally return to 
  Kargess, his mate. He could return to his people, his life. But 
  then he glanced behind him and saw the axe lying with its 
  point wedged into the stones, thrown from where he had 
  stood during the awakening of the mountain kings. With a 
  leaden heart he walked toward it and raised his hand. He 
  could see it shiver slightly, trying to pull free. He sighed and 
  gripped the handle, feeling its warmth. The curse was still 
  his. There would be no homecoming for him, not yet.
  He looked up at the mountain kings striding among the 
  army, lifting corpses from where they lay to stuff them in 
  their maws, and he shuddered. Across the mental bond 
  he had created with one of them he sensed a great gulf, 
  an emptiness, a hunger that might never be filled. There 
  was no warmth, no affection like other trolls felt, only 
  rage and hunger. He could not help but wonder what 
  Doomshaper and he had unleashed. As if aware of his 
  regard, the mountain king looked up and locked eyes 
  with him, its expression fierce and knowing. It turned to 
  continue its feast, and Madrak realized this was only the 
  first of many. With a growing sense of apprehension, he 
  wondered if the gullets of the ancients they had awoken 
  could ever be filled.
  
  156
  general
  inCorporeal advantage . 
  Replace the last line of Incorporeal with the following:
  When this model makes a melee or ranged attack, before the attack 
  roll is made it loses Incorporeal until its next activation.
   
  Cygnar
  Major viCtoria haley .  
  teMporal shift . 
  Replace the text of Temporal Shift with the following:
  Enemy models/units activating while in Haley’s control area forfeit 
  either their movement or their action during their activations, as 
  their controller chooses. At the start of your opponent’s turns, he 
  must declare which affected models/units he intends to activate 
  that turn. Those models activate first that turn in the order you 
  choose. Temporal Shift lasts for one round.
  CoMMander adept neMo . 
  superCharge . 
  Replace the text of Supercharge with the following:
  When this model allocates focus during your turn, it can allocate 
  up to 5 focus points to one warjack in its battlegroup that is in its 
  control area.
  ol’ rowdy .  
  Counter Charge . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  preCursor knights .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of their next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
   
  proteCtorate of Menoth
  grand sCrutator severius .  
  divine Might . 
  Replace the text of Divine Might with the following:
  Remove focus points from enemy models with the Focus 
  Manipulation ability that are currently in Severius’ control area. 
  Enemy models cannot cast spells and lose the Arc Node advantage 
  while in Severius’ control area. Divine Might lasts for one round.
  unbound rules appendix
  hierarCh severius .  
  fires of CoMMunion . 
  Add the following line to the end of Fires of Communion:
  These models do not count toward the limit of four solos you can 
  activate this turn.
  thyra, flaMe of sorrow .  
  elite Cadre [daughters of the 
  flaMe] . 
  Change the last line of Elite Cadre [Daughters of the Flame] 
  to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance was destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in that unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  sanCtifier .  
  Cenotaph . 
  Replace the last line of Cenotaph with the following:
  At the start of the turn this model’s battlegroup activates, you can 
  remove all soul tokens from this model to allocate it focus points, 
  1 for each token removed.
  fire of salvation .  
  righteous vengeanCe . 
  Replace the text of Righteous Vengeance with the following:
  If one or more friendly Faction warrior models was destroyed or 
  removed from play by enemy attacks while within 5˝ of this model 
  during your opponent’s last turn, at the beginning of your next 
  turn this model can make a full advance followed by one normal 
  melee attack.
  teMple flaMeguard .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  wraCk .  
  suffering’s prayer . 
  Replace the second line of Suffering’s Prayer with the 
  following:
  At the end of your Control Phase, this model receives 1 focus point 
  if it does not have any.
  
  157
  khador
  supreMe koMMandant irusk .  
  taCtiCal supreMaCy . 
  Replace the text of Tactical Supremacy with the following:
  During a turn it activated, target friendly model/unit can advance 
  up to 3˝ after all models have ended their activations that turn.
  koMMander orsus zoktavir .  
  arCane deMentia . 
  Replace the third line of Arcane Dementia with the 
  following:
  If he destroyed three or more enemy models with melee attacks 
  since the beginning of your last Maintenance Phase, do not roll to 
  determine his base FOCUS; it is automatically 7. 
  assault koMMandos .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  iron fang pikeMen .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  Man-o-war shoCktroopers .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  Man-o-war drakhun . Counter 
  Charge . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  war dog .  
  Counter Charge . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  Cryx
  liCh lord asphyxious .  
  speCtral legion . 
  Add the following line to the end of Spectral Legion:
  These models do not count toward the limit of four solos you can 
  activate this turn.
  pirate queen skarre .  
  ritual saCrifiCe . 
  Change the text of Ritual Sacrifice to the following:
  Remove target friendly warrior model from play. Skarre gains d6 
  additional focus points at the start of her next activation. Skarre 
  can gain the benefit of Ritual Sacrifice only once per round.
  deryliss .  
  arCane extension [Mortenebra] . 
  Replace the text of Arcane Extension with the following:
  At the start of a turn in which Mortenebra’s battlegroup activates, 
  if this model is in Mortenebra’s control area, Mortenebra can 
  allocate focus to warjacks in her battlegroup that are in this 
  model’s command range.
  voCiferon .  
  arCane extension [asphyxious, 
  Master of the thornwood] . 
  Replace the text of Arcane Extension with the following:
  At the start of a turn in which Asphyxious, Master of the 
  Thornwood’s battlegroup activates, if this model is in Asphyxious’ 
  control area, Asphyxious can allocate focus to warjacks in his 
  battlegroup that are in this model’s command range.
  bane knights .  
  vengeanCe . 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  MaChine wraith .  
  MaChine Meld . 
  Change the fifth line of Machine Meld to the following:
  You cannot activate the warjack this round.
   
  
  158
  retribution of sCyrah
  hydra .  
  granted: foCus battery . 
  Change the last line of Focus Battery to the following:
  Focus points remaining on this model count toward its focus 
  allocation limit.
  dawn guard sentinel offiCer & 
  standard .  
  granted: vengeanCe . 
  Change the last line of Granted: Vengeance to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  houseguard halberdiers .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
   
  MerCenaries
  Captain daMiano .  
  death MarCh . 
  Change the last line of Death March to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  haMMerfall high shield gun 
  Corps .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
   
  trollbloods
  jarl skuld, devil of the 
  thornwood .  
  taCtiCal supreMaCy . 
  Replace the text of Tactical Supremacy with the following:
  During a turn it activated, target friendly model/unit can advance 
  up to 3˝ after all models have ended their activations that turn.
  skaldi bonehaMMer . Counter 
  Charge . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  trollkin fennblades . 
  vengeanCe . 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  trollkin fennblade offiCer & 
  druMMer .  
  vengeanCe . 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
   
  CirCle orboros
  Mohsar the desertwalker . 
  disjunCtion . 
  Replace the text of Disjunction with the following:
  While in Mohsar’s control area this round, enemy models cannot 
  be used to channel spells. During your opponent’s next Control 
  Phase, his models cannot leach fury and cannot have fury leached 
  from them while in Mohsar’s control area.
  gnarlhorn satyr .  
  Counter slaM . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Slam with the following:
  This model can use Counter Slam only once per round.
  feral warpwolf .  
  baying of Chaos . 
  Replace the second line of Baying of Chaos with the 
  following:
  A warbeast can be affected by Baying of Chaos only once per 
  round.
   
  unbound rules appendix
  
  159
  skorne
  lord tyrant hexeris .  
  death MarCh . 
  Change the last line of Death March to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  supreMe arChdoMina Makeda .  
  elite Cadre [praetorian 
  swordsMen] . 
  Change the last line of Elite Cadre [Praetorian Swordsmen] 
  to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  bronzebaCk titan .  
  Counter Charge . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  CataphraCt Cetrati .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  iMMortals .  
  vengeanCe . 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  praetorian karax .  
  shield wall (order) . 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  hakaar the destroyer . 
  righteous vengeanCe . 
  Replace the text of Righteous Vengeance with the following:
  If one or more friendly Faction warrior models was destroyed or 
  removed from play by enemy attacks while within 5˝ of this model 
  during your opponent’s last turn, at the beginning of your next 
  turn this model can make a full advance followed by one normal 
  melee attack.
   
  legion of everblight
  blighted nyss legionnaires .  
  vengeanCe . 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  Captain farilor & standard .  
  vengeanCe . 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
   
  Minions
  bloody barnabas .  
  Counter Charge . 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  
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SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Warmachine/Gargantuans.pdf