CHAOS IN THE
WARHAMMER WORLD
By Alfred Nuñez Jr. and Anthony Ragan
We wrote
this article as a writing sample that accompanied our formal proposal to write
the Realms of Chaos sourcebook for Hogshead Publishing. This piece actually represents the entirety
of the History chapter. A good portion
of the text is a summary of the information contained in some of the 4th
and 5th edition WFB army books.
Games
Workshop wasn’t particularly pleased with the paragraph where we detailed the
time before the collapse of the warpgates.
In their view, the text was too definitive for a period in which the
events should be hazy at best. We
intended to answer GW’s concerns by presenting this legendary period of history
as some heretical theory put forth by two renegade Verenan scholars. In this manner, we hoped to stake out a
reasonable view without compromising anything GW was developing.
The
following text is based upon the ramblings of the late Brother Frederich
Schliemann, may Mórr protect his soul.
The unfortunate Verenan scholar had been plagued by nightmares over the
past few years which drove him mad. He
was taken to the Great Hospice in Frederheim where the Shallyans sisters did
what little they could for the former Professor Emeritus of Imperial History at
the University in Altdorf. Brother
Frederich did have moments of lucidity and the Verenan cult sent Brother
Joachim Weissburg to record everything Brother Frederich had to say in the hopes
of gaining some insight into the nature of his ailment before he succumbed to
his fate.
There are
some who claim that Brother Joachim fabricated the information in the hopes of
making a name for himself. The truth
will never been known as the good brother died violently at the hands of a suicidal
maniac several weeks before this work was published.
Fought to a
standstill after the First Incursion, the Lords of Chaos embarked on a
millennia-long plan to corrupt, weaken, and destroy the peoples of the
Warhammer World. Each proceeded in its own way, biding its time, sometimes
fighting each other, waiting for the moment when the Warp expands again.
The seeds
of the downfall of the Elves were sewn during the aftermath of the Great
Disaster. In the midst of the fighting, the grieving Phoenix King Aenarion
rescued the beautiful Lady Morathi of Nagarythe from a Slaaneshi warband. To
everyone’s surprise, he took the cool and proper noblewoman for his wife and settled
his court in her homeland in Ulthuan. It was here Morathi gave birth to their
son, Malekith.
Malekith
inherited his mother’s beauty and his father’s stature. and he came into his
own after the death of Aenarion. Though Aenarion’s first children were found
and his daughter became the new Everqueen, many wanted to see Malekith crowned
Phoenix King. The Ulthuan Princes decided differently and crowned Bel Shanaar
instead. Malekith was the first to bend his knee before the new Phoenix King in
homage. In return, Bel Shanaar named Malekith as his First Ambassador.
Malekith
travelled the world as the Phoenix King’s representative. When he returned to
Nagarythe, he found that the decadent Cult of Pleasure was prevalent throughout
the region. The cult had grown so bold it performed obscene rituals of living
sacrifice as a public entertainment. Malekith led a crusade to crush the vile
cult despite (or perhaps because of) the rumour his mother was a founder and
High Priestess. Fear gripped Ulthuan as rumours hinted the Cult had spread to
other parts of the ringed island and increasingly associated the name Slaanesh
with it.
In a war
council called to debate the threat of the Cult and Nagarythe, Malekith openly
accused the Phoenix King himself of being member. Overwhelmed by the
accusation, Bel Shanaar poisoned himself. Malekith took the crown from Bel
Shanaar’s head, proclaimed himself Phoenix King, and released hidden assassins
to murder every noble in council. Malekith was so certain of his destiny that
he entered the sacred flame of Asuryan as the first two Phoenix Kings had done
before him. Instead of emerging unscathed, the fire burned Malekith with an
intensity to match the presumptuous of his soul. Wracked with unbearable pain,
Malekith was rejected by the sacred flame. His followers took his broken body
to Nagarythe to heal.
Once
recovered, Malekith the Witch King made war on Ulthuan to regain his
birthright. Arrayed against him were the armies of the new Phoenix King,
Caledor the Conqueror. The war raged across Nagarythe with the followers of the
Witch King slowly losing ground. Malekith then tried a dangerous gambit,
attacking the Vortex itself in hopes of tapping into the Realm of Chaos
directly. The wizards caught within the vortex fought desperately against the
Witch King. The raw magic force unleashed was tremendous and the whole of
Ulthuan shook under its might. The ensuing tidal wave drowned much of Nagarythe
and Tiranoc, killing thousands of Elves. The Witch King and his followers
escaped in the disaster’s chaotic wake and fled overseas to a land they renamed
Naggaroth.
This event
has become known as “The Sundering” and forever fragmented and weakened the
Elven people. The Civil War has continued through the millennia to the present
day, ensuring the full might of the Elves would never again oppose Chaos and
its designs.
********************
“All right,
where were we?” Theophilus Hochmütig inquired on a sunny day in the middle of
Marktplatz in Nuln.
“We were
discussing how Chaos came into the world,” replied Lodovicus Buchbinder with
the hint of exasperation in his voice.
“I believe that you were going to explain your theories.”
“Ah,
right. Thank you, my good man,” said
the taller scholar. “With what was available to me in Nuln and Marienburg, I
have deduced that tens of thousands of years ago, long before Man walked
upright or the Elves were anything more than savages, the Old Slann (or Old
Ones, if you prefer) left a now-forgotten home world, much like this one, to
travel among the stars. Through their powerful magicks, they conquered the vast
distances between suns by learning to travel in the Warp, a realm of limitless
probability that lies beneath and behind all reality. Mastering the laws of
this other-realm, their voyages in the aethyr were reduced from centuries to
just a few days or weeks, thus allowing the Old Slann to build an empire that
spanned the Heavens. On each world they settled, they built great gates at the
north and south poles to ease their ships’ entries and exits from the Warp.
“Blinded by
hubris, the Old Slann never realised that among the infinite possibilities
inherent in the Warp was self-awareness – that the other-realm itself could
become sentient. Serene in their great ships, it never occurred to them that
the psychic patterns left behind by their mighty minds would merge and coalesce
with the mental echoes of millions of lesser beings in the eddies and currents
created by their passage. Nor that this growing intellect, the mind of the Warp
itself, would hate them.”
“I see,”
commented Lodovicus. “So, you theorise
that this ‘mind’ was a powerful deity?
What happened next in your estimation?”
Theophilus
pulled himself a little more erect before continuing, “The attack of the Dark
Entity, as I style him, was sudden and violent. Hundreds of ships were
destroyed in an instant, the psychic death screams of their crews adding to the
life force of this new-born god. But it played its hand too strong and too
soon, and weakened itself to the point that the magic of the Old Slann proved
superior. They obliterated the entity, scattering it into millions of psychic
shreds. Reassured of supremacy by their victory, the Old Slann were still blind
to the truth: the mind of the Warp could never be wholly destroyed, for a
portion of all living beings exists within it. Lesser eddies of these psychic
shards form the beings we know as gods, spirits, and daemons.”
“Isn’t
there a contradiction in your views?” countered Ludovicus. “If the Old Slann were so powerful that they
could defeat this ‘Dark Entity’, where are they now? Why do we have Chaos in the world?”
“I’m
getting to that,” replied Theophilus.
“That’s the problem with the world today. Too many of the younger people don’t have the patience of their
elders.”
“Elders, my
foot,” retorted Ludovicus. “You’re
bloody only 46 years old…”
“… and I’m
still a year and a half older than you,” completed Theophilus. “So I am your elder. Now allow me to continue. As I see it, the scattered fragments of the
Dark Entity flowed in the tides of the Warp until they encountered other
sympathetic remnants. These bits and pieces began to coalesce on their own,
forming new psyches. The first to gain awareness was the Blood God, Khorne, who
some argue (incorrectly, I might add) is the most powerful of all. He was followed quickly by Tzeentch and
Nurgle. The last of the Powers to gain awareness was Slaanesh. Other, smaller
beings gained consciousness during this time.”
“Right. And where do the other gods fit in?” snorted
Ludovicus impatiently.
“That’s a
tale for another day,” remarked Theophilus.
Where was I? Oh yes. The Four Great Powers retained enough of the
Dark Entity’s memories that they inherited its loathing of the Old Ones. Khorne
wished to strike immediately, but Tzeentch the Schemer urged him to delay.
Their power was rising while that of the Old Slann would surely decline in
time. The Four slowly created their daemonic followers, hiding them from the
Warp-travelling Old Slann, waiting for the day when they could tear reality
apart.
“Through
his cunning, Tzeentch slowly corrupted the mechanism of the Warpgates over the
polar regions. When the time was ripe, they failed suddenly and exploded in a
million colours, tearing great gashes in the heavens above and below our world.
Great winds from the Warp blew its dust across the world, corrupting and
twisting many of its inhabitants, making them slaves to the attackers. With
these newly formed allies as the vanguard, the forces of the Four poured
through the gates to destroy the Old Slann.”
“You
realise, of course, that such a view runs opposite of what the good cult of
Sigmar teaches its priests,” observed Ludovicus.
“No doubt,”
smiled Theophilus followed by a cough.
“Damn, the air’s getting a little thick hereabouts. At any rate, the forces of Chaos soon
encountered lesser beings who shared this world with the Old Slann. The
northern kingdom of the Giants was swept aside and their kind scattered. The
Elves of Ulthuan were battered by the initial attack, but did not break. To the
east, the Dwarfs marched from the safety of the mountains to take up the fight.
But, these battles were merely side-shows to the real war.”
“Kingdom of
the Giants? You’ve been reading those
inane Norscan sagas again, haven’t you?”
Ludovicus criticized.
“I’ve
always said that there’s some truth behind the old myths of the world,”
rejoined Theophilus. “My throat is
feeling a bit parched at the moment.
What I wouldn’t do for a pint of ale.
Oh well, allow me to continue.”
“By all
means, fellow scholar,” replied Ludovicus.
“We have little time.”
“Indeed,
friend, but I am almost done expounding upon my conclusions,” reassured
Theophilus. “The utter destruction of
the Old Slann was the only goal of the Four – all else meant nothing compared
to it. They themselves engaged their ancient enemies and their servants, the
First Spawn Slann, while Greater Daemons led the Chaos armies against the other
Slann and their Lizardman warriors. The war devastated the land which later
became Naggaroth as the titanic forces clashed for mastery. The Old Ones threw
all their resources into the fray, but they were tired and decadent: it would
not be enough to defeat the Lords of Chaos.
Yet, within
the infinite possibilities of Chaos are the seeds of its own destruction. One
of the Daemon Princes, Hashut, revolted against the Lords of Chaos. Khorne swatted Hashut away and sent other
Daemon Princes with their retinues to slay the defiant daemon. As the forces
arrayed against the failing Old Ones scattered, the divine Children of the
Earth Mother entered the battle against Chaos. They were soon joined by the Law
Gods, beings from the Void whose sole goal was the freezing of Chaos in one set
pattern – something that would mean the deaths of the Four. The forces of Chaos were pushed northward
until a stand-off was reached.”
“Yes, and
we know the rest, do we not. Allow me
to finish since your throat seems so parched,” stated Ludovicus, who then
cleared his own throat. “The Elves and
Dwarfs contributed to victory over Chaos. Many Elf sorcerers gave their lives
to create the vortex that drained away most of the Warp winds, while the Dwarf
Ancestor God Grimnir journeyed to the collapsed Warpgate to seal it with his
bare hands. Though denied outright conquest, Chaos had taken hold in the world
and its roots sank ever deeper.
“Now, allow
me to point out where I disagree with your views…”
“For the
love of merciful Verena, gentle sirs, please,” interrupted a pleading third
voice. “This is not the time to debate
your views on how Chaos came to the world.
We are being burned at the stake!”
“This is no
time for hysterics,” reprimanded Ludovicus.
“Bloody librarian…”
********************
Before the
Great Disaster, the region now known as the Dark Lands was a well-watered and
fertile region between the Worlds Edge Mountains and the Mountains of Mourn.
Nomadic tribes of Orcs, Hobgoblins, and Goblins roamed the land as hunters and
gatherers. They fought each other with weapons of stone and bone, each wanting
the land for itself.
The Goblins
were the more organised and numerous. They were the first to establish kingdoms
on the fertile plains and trade with the Dwarf clans that had migrated from the
Worlds Edge Mountains. The Hobgoblins, on the other hand, were cunning hunters,
skilled at ambush and setting traps. They were also more likely to cheat Goblin
traders than deal with them honestly. In contrast, the large and brutish Orcs
simply took whatever they wanted and killed anyone who stood in their way.
Their love of fighting one another kept their numbers low, a fact for which the
more civilised but physically weaker goblins were ever grateful.
The Chaos
Incursion ignored the Dark Lands until Hashut’s revolt against the Lords of
Chaos. Fleeing from the Daemon Princes sent by the Blood God to destroy him,
Hashut made his stand in the Dark Lands.
The savage battles they fought boiled away the rivers and left the land
a desiccated ruin. The servants of the Daemon Princes destroyed Goblin and
Hobgoblin villages to deny Hashut any possible allies. The Goblin kingdoms
crumbled under the onslaught and their people fled to the Orc villages for
safety. The Hobgoblins retreated into the Mountains of Mourn to save their own
skins. Only the Orcs fought back, gathering into larger tribes and joining the
battle with relish.
These new
(though unwitting) allies gave Hashut the opportunity to turn against his
pursuers. He killed many, but Khorne always sent more. Knowing they would
eventually overwhelm him, Hashut withdrew into the underground darkness to
rebuild his strength. Khorne’s slaves followed and finally cornered their
quarry in a large underground cavern. Suffering from their own wounds, the
followers of the Blood God imprisoned Hashut behind a great door of brass and
darkened iron to hold him till Khorne saw fit to exact his vengeance in person.
As the Warp
winds drained into the Elf-created vortex, Khorne’s minions in the Dark Lands
began to weaken. A huge Orc army descended upon the retreating Khornates and
the bloody battle further devastated the land. Both sides suffered horrible
losses, but the simple and brutish society of the Orcs survived the war against
Chaos. The more advanced Goblin culture was destroyed, forever leaving the
Goblins as slaves of the Orcs.
Unlike their western
brethren, the Dwarf clans of the Mountains of Mourn didn’t receive Grungni’s
warning before the Warpgates collapsed and Warpdust seeped into their
settlements. Yet, the eastern Dwarfs realised that something was amiss and
closed their doors. A surge of Warp matter obliterated the Dwarfs’ surface
entrances and entrapped them below. For hundreds of years, the Dark Lands
Dwarfs were trapped underground. No matter where they tunnelled, impenetrable
rock prevented them from reaching the surface. The Dwarfs burrowed ever-deeper,
always seeking a way past the rock that trapped them.
They eventually
tunnelled into a magnificent underground gallery with walls of obsidian.
Carefully exploring the cavern, the Dwarfs found a huge sealed door made of
brass and darkened iron with arcane writings inscribed on it. Rune Lord
Grimdalf the Grey took it upon himself to translate the glyph learn what was
beyond the door. After many years, Grimdalf successfully read the script and,
as he mouthed the last syllable, the resulting blast tore him apart. The sound
of it reverberated throughout the tunnels, as did the roar of whatever it was
Grimdalf had set free.
The thing from behind
the door was free and Dwarfs were dying. Even when they finally tunnelled out
of the earth, the killings continued during the night. In time, fewer died and
some Dwarfs were even allowed to return to their fellows with tales of a gigantic
creature from the Darkness. With their Dwarfking dead (one of the beast’s first
victims), the remaining clan leaders selected a delegation to approach the
creature in its lair to learn its intent. It told them that its name was
Hashut, Father of Darkness, and that he would grant them great power if they
worshipped him alone. Hashut told the Dark Lands Dwarfs that their Ancestor
Gods abandoned them to the onslaught of Chaos. Should they refuse, promised
Hashut, their lines would come to an end and their achievements would be
forgotten.
A heated argument broke
out between those who saw wisdom in Hashut’s words and those who saw forsaking
the Ancestor Gods as the first step to damnation. At the height of the debate,
weapons were drawn and Dwarf slew Dwarf. Seeing the fight from afar, Hashut
granted sorcerous power to those elders who favoured him, tipping the battle in
their favour. To honour their new god, the victors sacrificed many of their
brethren to Hashut, while they gave others to him as slaves. Some of these he
mutated into the beasts that serve him: the Great Taurus and Lammasu. Hashut
also took the most ferocious fighters for his cause and shaped them into the
Bull Centaurs, his distinguished servants. Lastly, the victorious clan elders
were permanently rewarded with powerful sorcerous abilities, which they used to
Hashut’s glory.
In a final desperate act
against their now debased rulers, the remaining Runesmiths revolted against
Hashut’s new order. But, the corruption of the Dark Lands Dwarfs had even affected
the power of the Runesmiths. The battle raged for months, but the
Sorcerer-Priests were too strong. The
Runesmiths were broken and enslaved, while the more powerful among them were
sacrificed to Hashut after several days of ritual torture. With the last
vestiges of their former culture removed, the corruption of the Dark Lands
Dwarfs was completed. Hashut rewarded them with tusks to mark them as his own,
while he granted the most devout cloven hoofs and horns.
Though they remained
unknown to the Dwarfs of the Old World for millennia, the Chaos Dwarfs proved
to be their nemesis. The campaigns of the Dark Land denizens forced the
greenskins’ western migrations that led to the ruin of several Dwarfholds and
the decline of the Dwarf Empire of Karaz Ankor. The Old World Dwarfs never
recovered from their loss.
Scholars
have written that one of the results of the magical vortex centred on the
Ulthuan’s Isle of the Dead was the formation of the moon Mórrslieb. Another was
the creation of isolated pools of Chaos matter spread across the world. One of
the larger pools was found in the underground caverns located beneath the
fertile plain between the Tilean Sea and the Irrana Mountains.
More than
two thousand years before Sigmar, several Human tribes forsook the worship of
the Earth Mother to follow other gods, including Solkan, Law God of
Retribution. They were forced to migrate to the plains north of the Tilean Sea
where they founded the city of Tylos. Theirs was the first civilisation in the
Old World. As the Tylean civilisation grew, the Chaos mass coalesced into a
single malevolent entity. It knew of the Human activity above and came to hate
the surface dwellers.
Dwarf clans
joined the Tyleans in their plan to build a mighty temple in honour of Solkan.
They sank the foundations deep into the earth, unknowingly breaching the domain
of the Chaos entity. Wallowing in its hate, it plotted and schemed as the
towers of the temple grew ever higher. When the Tyleans finished the temple
after a hundred years of construction, the thing struck. Warpstone rained down
from Mórrslieb and the ground buckled and ruptured as the Tyleans sought
shelter in their stone houses. Many died in the destruction, while those who
didn’t came to wish they had. At the height of the storm a tremendous explosion
from below tore Tylos’ centre – the birth of a god. Tall as a mountain, the
entity burst forth and took shape as the Horned Rat.
Some
Tyleans survived, but they could not resist the effects of the Warpstone about
them. There was no escape from the devastated land, which, within a year, had
sunk and become an abysmal, disease-ridden swamp. The city itself settled into
the marsh, its spires twisting into horrid shapes and swarms of giant rats
roaming the ruined boulevards where Tyleans once walked with pride.
But, the Horned Rat was not quite
finished. It wanted no less than to become one of the Lords of Chaos, but for
this it would need worshippers. It changed the giant rats into parodies of the
surface dwellers and blessed its creations with some of its own essence,
including its hatred for the chosen races of the Old Ones: Elves, Humans, Dwarfs, and even the Orcs and
Goblins. He the strongest of his new servants the power to wield the raw magic
of Chaos while resisting its mutating effects.
The Skaven burst upon the rest of
the world soon after. In the wake of the War of Vengeance between the Elves and
Dwarfs, earthquakes and volcanoes ravaged Karaz Ankor. The Dwarfs reeled from
the upheaval, and it was then the Skaven attacked from below, apparently
co-ordinating their actions with the above-ground attacks of the Orcs and
Goblins. Several Dwarfholds fell over the next thousand years before the Dwarfs
stabilised their defences across the Worlds Edge Mountains. By then, the Skaven
had begun their war against the Goblins, while searching far and wide for
Warpstone for their Grey Seers. Ever since, their lives have been dedicated to
conspiracy and secret war, all in the service of the Horned Rat
Humans were
few in number during the First Great Incursion of Chaos, mostly confined to the
south and east of the Old World. Though their involvement in the War was
minimal, Human development was greatly influenced by Chaos. Warpdust fell far
and wide when the Warpgates collapsed and no part of the world was spared. The
influence on Man was subtle. In place of the complacent subjects of Old One
experimentation, the Humans developed the ambition and drive that would enable
them to eclipse the declining older races.
Human
population exploded as they mastered the ability to make tools and
weapons, Some tribes migrated to the
Old World while others congregated elsewhere. In time, Human civilisations
first arose in Nehekhara, Cathay, and Ind, while the worship of the Earth
Mother spread throughout the tribes of the Old World, led by wise priests
called Druids.
The
religion of the Earth Mother, the “Old Faith,” was the common element binding
the first Old World tribes together. Inevitably, it attracted the attention of
Chaos. The fertility rites and symbolic sacrifices of the Old Faith were a lure
for Slaanesh’s corruption. In some isolated tribes, these expressions of
religious devotion devolved over time into wild orgies and Human sacrifices.
During the second century IC, the hierarchies of the dominant cults (Taal,
Ulric, and Sigmar among others) were appalled when they learned of these
practices. The cult leaders mistakenly assumed these sick rites were typical of
the entire Old Faith and declared a crusade against the Druids and their
religion. Those that escaped fled deeper into the remote areas of the forest
and borderlands where they survive today, deeply suspicious of the dominant
cults.
In the
first thousand years of its existence, the Empire of Sigmar became the richest
and most powerful realm in the Old World. But the quality of the later Emperors
never measured up to Sigmar and Sigismund II the Conqueror. With the hand of
Chaos shaping the decadent opulence of life in the Imperial court, the early
Empire reached its nadir during the reign of Emperor Boris Goldgatherer “the
Incompetent” in the twelfth century. Lusting for the
riches of the sorcerous orders, Boris conspired with the Grand Theogonist of
Sigmar and the other High Priests of the Imperial cults to arrest the wizards
and charge them with heresy. Many sorcerers died screaming in the flames of the
stake while Boris carefully counted their wealth and properties.
The Lords
of Chaos were smiling at the looming destruction of Sigmar’s legacy when the
Skaven unleashed the Black Plague in the Empire. The Horned Rat's play for
power almost ruined Chaos's game as their premature assault reunited the land
under Mandred Skavenslayer. The Skaven tried to salvage their victory by
assassinating Emperor Mandred , but Chaos had lost its great chance. Not all
their efforts were wasted, though. In the wake of Mandred’s death, the
arguments over the succession plunged Sigmar’s Empire into the Age of Wars.
Though
fragmented, the Empire remained a powerful bastion against Chaos. More time was
needed to let the corruption run deeper and the fissures widen so the road to
damnation would be inescapable. One great step was taken in the twentieth
century when many wizards were seduced by daemonic promises of power and
eternal life. The ranks of daemonologists and necromancers swelled as sorcerers
openly made pacts with Chaos. Merciless
Witch Hunters and Templars fell on these slaves of Chaos in what came to be
called “The Wizard's War,” but it was still a victory for Chaos: sorcery was
repressed once again and it’s practitioners banned. Many nobles and city-states
took this excuse to settle old grudges, ending any pretence of central
authority in the Empire.
While the
schemes of Nurgle, Slaanesh, and Tzeentch plotted to divide the enemies of
Chaos, bloodthirsty Khorne lashed out. Subtlety was not his way: direct and
violent action was the only plan.
The Dark
Elves of Naggaroth were the first to feel the Lord of Slaughter’s fury. Battles
along the border marches were fierce and bloody, but the Dark Elves won each
battle while all the time suffering terrible casualties. Khorne’s armies
suffered as well, but they kept the Dark Elves from exploring the lands
north-west of Naggaroth, which held several ancient and unexplored Old One
sites that might harbour secrets valuable to Chaos’ foes.
In time,
Khorne’s armies sought other targets. Bretonnia looked ripe for the picking and
the Khornates attacked it several times. They laid waste to the land and slaughtered
whole towns until a last great host of Bretonnian warriors appeared. Having
spent their strength in wanton bloodshed, they themselves were cut to ribbons
by Breton steel. Though they had saved their land, the Bretonnians had won but
a small victory. The real war was still in the future.
Anarchy
spread across what had once been the Empire during the Dark Ages. The great
provinces made war against each other and their own rebellious subordinates. It
seemed Sigmar’s dream had failed at last. Fear, despair, and suspicion fed the
power of Chaos. Across the land, dark prophets openly proclaimed the coming end
of the world.
In 2301 I.
C., the Chaos grew so strong that the Wastes quickly expanded out from the
polar regions. The Dwarfhold of Karak Vlag was overrun and vanished as if it
never existed while Praag and Karaz-a-Karak were besieged. Having allied
themselves with Chaos, the Dark Elves attacked the their ancient enemies in
Ulthuan. The millennia Chaos had spent dividing and weakening their enemies at
long last looked to be bearing the fruit of ultimate victory.
Alone
amidst the panic one voice sounded a cry of valour and hope. Magnus von
Bildhofen, known as “the Pious”, was a firm believer in Sigmar’s dream and a
gifted orator. He quickly united and energised the people of Nuln and the
Reikland, convincing them it was their sacred duty to help Kislev and fight
against the Chaotic invaders. Word quickly spread and people everywhere rose in
support. Opposition to this upstart son of a minor noble withered even in
Ulrican strongholds like Middenheim and Talabheim. The Dwarf High King of
Karaz-a-Karak swore allegiance when he learned of Magnus’ inspirational words.
The Dwarfs
of Karaz-a-Karak repulsed the invaders at their gates after two months of heavy
fighting and pursued them northward, but doomed Praag itself fell to the Chaos
invaders after holding out for months without reinforcements. A second Dwarf
army was sent to give aid to the Tsar of Kislev and they arrived before the
triumphant Chaotic armies moved south to lay siege to the city of Kislev. Dwarf
Engineers worked feverishly to strengthen its defences. They completed the task
as the gigantic Chaos host arrived. The fortifications held in spite of a
fierce initial assault. The Siege of Kislev had begun.
Magnus
gathered more troops in his Great Imperial Army while encamped near Middenheim.
Having learned of the siege of Praag, he split his forces in two. One, with most of the lancers, would march
towards Praag with the aim of relieving that city while the other Magnus would
lead to Kislev.
When Magnus
arrived, the Siege of Kislev was well underway. He knew time wasn’t on his side
so he launched an attack on Chaos’ western flank early the next morning. The
initial strength of the charge broke
the Chaos battle line, but the foul creatures rallied and
counterattacked. A breakout led by the
Dwarfs from Kislev’s gates also stalled after early success. The battle was
turning against Magnus when the force he had sent to Praag arrived from the
north and immediately attacked Chaos’ rear. Taken by surprise, the Chaos army
crumbled and scattered in panic. So great was the slaughter that the River
Urskoy ran thick with inhuman blood.
The same
swing of fortune repeated itself in Ulthuan. The Dark Elves and their Chaos
allies enjoyed early successes and forced the High Elves southward. The
atrocities the invaders committed solidified Elven resolve and their military
and magical might began to tell. With the borders of the Wastes contracting
again, the strength of the Chaos armies waned. The Dark Elves retreated to
Naggaroth as Chaos fell before the High Elves.
Chaos
failed even in the Dark Lands where Khorne sent a portion of his warriors to
exterminate the Chaos Dwarfs, followers of his immortal enemy Hashut. The
battles were fierce with neither side giving nor asking quarter. The Chaos
Dwarfs survived, but their race was decimated.
The Chaos
alliance was disintegrating on all fronts. Followers of Tzeentch battled the
servants of Nurgle while Khorne’s slaves attacked everyone, especially the
followers of Slaanesh. Elements of the Human, Elf, and Dwarf armies pursued the
vanquished Chaos forces in their quest for complete victory. The remnants of
the Chaos army rallied in a forested region known as Grovod Wood, north of the
River Lynsk and Erengrad. Here Chaos made its stand, for its generals knew what
fate awaited them in the Wastes for their failure.
The thick
woods prevented the massed formations preferred by the Imperials, forcing
instead the use of small armed bands to eliminate pockets of chaotic
resistance. The conditions so favoured Chaos and the battle progressed so
poorly, the Imperial commanders considered withdrawal. Demanding vengeance for
Karak Vlag, the Dwarfs refused to retreat and accused their Imperial allies of
cowardice. With the Alliance army about to fall apart, the situation was saved
by the arrival of the Norse Dwarfs and Kislevites from the Translynsk
territory. These fearsome warriors had their own axes to grind with Chaos and
were determined to avenge the loss of their lands and the destruction of their
families.
The
fighting continued for several months and, by the time winter’s first snowfall
arrived, only small elements of the once mighty Chaos host roamed the vast
forests of the Empire and Kislev. The devastation wrought by the Great Enemy
would take years to overcome, if at all.
**********
In the
latter part of the 23rd century, the Nuln cell of the Tzeentch cult of the
Rainbow Plume was worried. The date of retribution, as foretold in their sacred
book “Liber Dominicus,” was fast
approaching and there was much to do. The first task was to decipher accurately
the sometimes contradictory, often confusing clues and form a coherent plan of
action. Years of guesswork and study finally yielded a single event: a young
man steeped in the self-righteous babble of a false god would rise above his
decadent class and unite the fragmented Empire to oppose the Great Mutator’s
schemes.
That
narrowed the likely candidates to a few dozen individuals in Nuln alone.
Killing the right person at the prescribed time posed a bit of a problem,
however. Several members of the Rainbow Plume had different interpretations
about when the crucial event should take place. After much debate (and a bloody
nose or two), the cult settled on the earliest possible date. The leaders
assigned cultists to shadow the identified individuals in the hope that the
right one was among them. The great day was fast-approaching and time was of
the essence.
Magnus von
Bildhofen was a strong believer in Sigmar and the unity of the Empire. A gifted
orator, Magnus studied a wide range of subjects at the University of Nuln. He
excelled at History, Theology, and Tactics. His close friends included the
scions of other noble families such as Sigmund von Krieglitz, Lorenz
Haupt-Anderssen, and Anton von Liebewitz. Though their futures looked bright,
Magnus’ .thoughts were filled with foreboding for the future.
Not long
after, Magnus and his friends realised they were being followed. The stalkers
were hardly students, nor from well-to-do families. They also quickly
disappeared whenever they found themselves noticed. Wary but unsure of the
meaning behind it all, the friends continued their studies. Then, it happened.
The band of fanatics attacked Magnus and his companions. The assassins were
babbling gibberish, but Magnus clearly heard the name, “Tzeentch. ”
Failing to
kill the four, the cultists grew frantic. They still weren’t certain which of
the young nobles was the one foretold. They also hadn’t realised how formidable
these four dandies were with swords. The Rainbow Plume needed more men , but
there wasn’t any time. A decision had to be made quickly, the leader of the
cultists knew. With his faith in Tzeentch and risking all, the leader pointed
to one of the nobles and proclaimed, “he’s the one!” The cultists focussed all their effort on this one young prince
and overwhelmed him. The man fell dying on the street while his companions
wreaked their revenge on the cultists. Only one or two managed to escape into
the night.
Magnus
knelt down beside Anton von Liebewitz as von Krieglitz and Haupt-Anderssen made
short work of the remaining assassins. All he could do was cradle his friend’s
head as Anton bled to death. “Trust in your dream,” Anton whispered to Magnus,
“for you are surely Sigmar’s chosen and great things await you. ”
“Your
inspiration and Sigmar’s blessing will see an end to Chaos,” Magnus replied.
“In your honour and memory, I dedicate all my life to see that this is done.
Sleep now, my friend, and may Mórr protect you on your final journey. ” Anton gave Magnus one last squeeze of his
hand before the light in his eyes dimmed forever.
*****End Sidebar*****
The defeat
of Chaos by the Imperial army and its allies was far from decisive. Small bands
of Chaos Beastmen and Warriors still roamed the dark forests and mountains.
Country nobles hired mercenaries to dispatch these marauders and defend the
isolated villages and farmsteads in their lands.
In spite of
the occasional regional trouble, the Empire reunited under the firm and just
rule of Emperor Magnus the Pious. The provincial Electors recovered their power
and prominence, once again bringing stability to politics. In fact, the Empire
as a whole entered a new age of prosperity and security that hadn’t been seen
in over 1300 years.
This “New
Golden Age” has lasted over 200 years, but underneath its lustre lingers the
darkness that many hoped had been overcome. Unknown to the broad masses of the
Old World realms, the insidious tendrils of Chaos has began to grow again as
the Wastes in the north pulsate with renewed energy. Complaisant in their comfy
homes, the people are blind to the clues about them. Cults grow again despite
the warnings from a few that Chaos remains a threat to all. Even lands
untouched by the Second Great Incursion of Chaos are now vulnerable to the
Enemy Within.