Feed the Maw Intro

Korvus the Twisted listened to the din of battle echoing off the rocks as his vanguard column stood behind him. A marauder rode up beside him,

“Why do we wait? There is greater glory in the slaughter and the men need to hone their blades on Kislevite bones!”

Korvus turned his head to the marauder and with no hidden contempt replied, “Slaughter is not the way of Tzeentch. Shall I remove the blood clot from your skull so that you can remember?”

“Careful serpent-tongue, out here in the High Pass your bird god holds little power,” the marauder replied clenching his fist on his reins.

Crimson Fields Intro

For six weeks we’d sat within the rickety walls of Fort Straghov attempting to find warmth as the biting wind found its way through every crack in the fort wall, through gap in our blankets, and though every hole in our worn clothes. The cold was so piercing that most men lost a tooth or two to intense chattering. It was the dead of winter, and we, the 2nd company of the 1st battalion of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment, or should I say the only company of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment, were left to defend the northern frontier of Kislev. The other three companies never arrived, we know not of the fate of those seven hundred fifty men. Two hundred and seventeen able-bodied lads under my command as the first line of defense against the hordes of Chaos – Sigmar save us!

Turbulent Winds Intro

Fort Straghov… they tell our kin back in the Empire that we died defending this rotting fort at the foot of Norsca, no would will know where we died. It was here they sent my company of the Altdorf Volunteer’s Regiment. Here… Fort Straghov, a decrepit wooden outpost with walls as gaping as a farmer’s fence. Winter is setting in and my boys have to not only keep watch in that freezing cold, but come night we sleep with the sheer wind cutting through our tents and blankets. The fortress walls offer no protection against the wind, I dread to think what little use they’d offer if the hordes of Chaos came upon us.

Back in Norsca we faced the blood-crazed Norse savages who came at us as wild unstoppable beasts. A blow that would normally fell a man did little to sway them. No, with those savages we had to hack em to bits and let their blood drain into the soil before they stopped raving. In the defense of Gotland my superiors fell to the savages and I was was ‘promoted’ simply because I’d been around the longest. Been around the longest? Just means I ain’t died yet, I pity all the lads who ‘ave died. New noble whelp comes from Nuln to command the company – suits me fine, I don’t have to order my boys to die. Then we get our orders to march to this dreaded fort in the early days of winter. It’s one thing to march with the elements bearing down on you, it’s another to march knowing you not only head closer to the winds of Chaos, but you march into the heart of winter. It becomes a question of what’s going to get you first – the freezing cold or some foul beast of Chaos? Given the options, some men turn to the third option – their own blade…

And so the 2nd company of the 1st battalion of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment made way for Fort Straghov with the other three companies to follow behind several days, as to not strip the countryside of too much resources as we passed. One thousand soldiers of the Empire on the march, and we were the spearhead, heading towards a fort whose previous garrison was found naked and slaughtered in pools of blood and other bodily fluids. Our orders were simple – arrive at the fort, clear out all the bodies and kill anyone on sight who didn’t fly the banner of the Empire or of Kislev. Word amongst the men was that Slaanesh was at work, that’s why the Kislevite garrison was slaughtered by women. Rule of thumb was don’t trust the women in these parts. We did our duty, cleared the bodies and kept the fort safe. But then the problems began to come one after another…

First some noble looking woman came with four servants – all female. She claimed she was the regimental colonel’s wife. The captain being a young lad said we must let her in, was the gentleman’s thing to do. Me and the lads told him no one comes near the fort if they’re not displaying the Empire or Kislev’s colors, and no women! He rebuked our cries of common sense and said that he could not turn away the colonel’s wife. So the stupid lout let them in, and we eyed them like hawks day and night. A few days passed and the other companies did not show on schedule… we all began to grow worried. The lads grew anxious, their watch turned from the ladies to the horizon, constantly scanning for the other companies. Then one night it happened, the blasted women crept into the captains tent and massacred him and his guards before throwing themselves onto the rest of the company. Five crazed women, just five. A score of our lads slaughtered and two dozen more wounded. Cursed women of Slaanesh.

Now the command falls on my shoulders once again. Hold the fort through the winter until reinforcements arrive. I don’t suspect anyone would be mad enough to attack in the freezing winter, but then again I’d never seen five women slaughter twenty men. But strange things are afoot in this infernal land – the skies to the north in the mountains of Norsca glow with a warm purple hue and come cascading down into the steppes of Kislev. From the south icy blue winds soar north colliding into the purple winds of the north in a bright storm over our heads. Their warmth draws the men, but I tell my boys to not be lured by the wiles of Slaanesh. So here we are, holding our post in Fort Straghov as the winds clash above… I pray Sigmar watches over us as we weather the winter and the winds of Chaos.

~ Jurgen Kuper, Captain of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment

Savage Reprisal Intro

Sometimes I catch myself dazing off and dreaming of better days as an apprentice cooper in Altdorf. Then I have to snap back into reality – best not think of those days, drags the soul down to think of brighter times. The war came, Altdorf lay burning, the streets littered with corpses – there was no time to be an apprentice cooper. Lad had to make a quick coin somehow to feed his kin. Took to a life of thieving, was caught quickly, and sent off as a private in the Altdorf ‘volunteers’. No, can’t think of rosier days knowing what hell me and other lads went through.

They sent the newly formed Altdorf Volunteer Regiment, composed of all the vagabonds of the city, to defend the northern frontier of our ally Kislev, Praag. Then the blood-tide came from High Pass… the Bloody Summer of Praag they call it now, but they don’t know what it was like to live through that nightmare. No, can’t think of the past after living through that. ‘Go recuperate with lighter duties in Norsca’ they said. ‘Autumn in Norsca ain’t so bad, its the winter that’ll get yer bones’ they told us. From hell into hellfire they sent us. We thought we’d finished with Khorne back in Praag, but Khorne hadn’t forgotten our boys. That bastard of a false-god sent his zealots after us in Norsca and the bloodshed started all over again. You ask me about how it was before the war, I can’t tell you, those memories are washed away with the gore of Norse savages and my brothers-in-arms.

The boys ask me why I volunteered for this regiment, I say to them ‘Did you volunteer? Well I didn’t either.’ Then they say ‘Well if you didn’t volunteer how did you end up a lieutenant? That ranks for the noble folk.’ Then I tell the boys, ‘When the blood-crazed of Khorne come chargin’ at your regiment and all the officers die, and you’re the highest ranking lad, you get promoted.’ I didn’t want this job, who would want the rank that requires you to command others to fight to die? I spit upon Chaos for startin this whole damn war. Couldn’t those bastard gods stay up in the frigid Chaos Wastes and fight amongst themselves?

Now commands from on up tell us we’re to march to Fort Straghov at the foot of Black Blood Pass, hold it until the Kislevites come to relieve us. The last garrison I’m told was found slaughtered, though strangely enough they lay in a scene resembling a bloody orgy. Messenger told us apparently a band of the most beautiful women visited the garrison late one night, his greatest shame he had to leave and couldn’t stay with his company and the ladies. His loss was his luck. He left and lived, they stayed and died. The women? No sign. Stinks of Chaos I tell you. I ain’t gonna let my boys get gutted like pigs by some crazed Chaos women. Bloody war. You say there were better days before this war? All I can remember is blood… everywhere blood.

~ Jurgen Kuper, Lieutenant of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment

Norscan Fate Teaser

After the Bloody Summer defending Praag our commanders deemed our unit in need of lighter duties… to give our minds ease. The carnage that ensued in Praag after Khorne’s appetite was awaken was horrendous; the weak of mind went mad and wandered off into the Northern Wastes never to be seen again. We witnessed bloodshed on a scale unseen; however, we were still soldiers. So our unit followed the River Lynsk south to Erengrad and then commandeered a vessel to take us to the northern outpost of the realm of civilized men – Norsca. Our commander assured us that the struggle in these harsh lands would be easier on seasoned soldiers like ourselves. We were to keep an eye on the weak-willed Norse and make sure the Raven Host made no great inroads in this dreary region.

Our outpost was on the outskirts of some plague-stricken town by the name of Gotland. The villages were infested with savage Norse men and women seeking to join the Raven Host, and it was our job to suppress their foolish thoughts. Every now and then we would bring in a villager and interrogate him – some needed more coaxing than others. “Elements of the Raven Host in that village,” or, “My village elder is the vessel of Tzeentch,” – false reports not worthy of our time. That was until one night late into Autumn… that night changed everything.

Late one night a patrol came back with a savage bound by chains raving like a mad man. He’d bit one of the younger lads; the wound was festering and driving the lad into a feverish delirium. As the sergeant of the watch I called the officer on duty, some noble’s bastard spawn seeking honor, and we approached the man who closer resembled a rabid beast.

“And from where does this beast come?” asked the officer.
“We picked him up north by the river towards Thorshafn,” the sergeant of the patrol replied.
“What ails you man? Do the Chaos powers possess you? From what village do you come?” the officer spurted question after question, giving the name no time to reply.
The creature hung his head low rattling the chains that bound him.
The sergeant of the patrol landed a heavy blow on the creature’s head with his spear-staff sending the creature to his knees. “Answer the officer, foul spawn!”

The savage begun to laugh an unearthly laugh and looked up at the officer piercing the officer’s body with his bloodshot eyes. He then lunged at the officer knocking him to the ground and began to bite at him with a bestial ferocity unknown to civilized men. A dozen spears went into the man’s body; he rolled off the officer, revealing a sickening bloody smile and with his last breath said through those bloody teeth, “Khorne hasn’t forgotten, Blood for the Blood God.” With those words the blood left every man’s face leaving us specters in the Norscan night.

It was a bloody nightmare happening all over again…

~ Jurgen Kuper, Sergeant of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment

Bloodied Steppes Teaser

Praag… I pity anyone who dares call that city their home. A living nightmare it is! Shattered houses, the taint of Chaos hovering in the air over the city, and worst of all, those bloody cold winds from the north… they cut right through you like an icy blade! As if being stationed here wasn’t bad enough, things had to get worse…

First it was as if the sun had fallen onto the earth and seared the sky red, then the Lynsk River began to flow thick and red with blood… and then the howling and shrieking started. At first we thought it was those infernal winds rolling across the steppes; how wrong we were. A day after the shrieking had filled the air an Ungol horseman came riding towards our camp screaming with a look on his face as if death had chased him across the steppes. He rode up to General Kamiensky, our Kislevite allied commander, and collapsed at the general’s feet. Blood began to gush from the rider’s mouth as he gasped for life’s last breath. Suddenly the dying man’s eyes became  bloodshot and a daemonic cackle emerged from the rider’s mouth as he said ‘Blood for the Blood God’. With that the man lay dead, not a wound on his body. As if the damned city wasn’t bad enough, now ill omens come falling at our feet. No man deserves to die in this horrid place…

~ Jurgen Kuper, Private of the Altdorf Volunteer Regiment

——————————————————————————————————————————————————–

As some of you may have heard, I was invited to visit Mythic’s studio in Faifax two days ago. I just wanted to take a moment to thank Mythic for this opportunity. Getting to meet the Devs and have a two-way conversation was a true treat, and I know the decision to invite an openly critical blogger as myself was not made easily and for this I appreciate their gesture even more. Sharing the hot-seat with me were bloggers Werit, Mykiel, Gaarawarr, and via skype Bootae, Zizlak, and Erdknuffel. While I could write about what secrets Mythic shared with us, it is easier to redirect you to their sites since they’ve already done great jobs summing up what we can discuss.

Kai doesn’t know it yet, but he is ready to confirm that slated in the future changes are also – Shadow Warriors getting dual wield…. bows! (they have to draw the bow-strings back with their ears); Engineer mounts being changed into locomotives!; and DoKs having a new mechanic where they have a 10% chance to turn into a chicken upon using an ability (part of the class balance)!

Once again, my sincere thanks to the Mythic staff for being very kind and welcoming, and for the opportunity to bounce around ideas. P.S. Steven E. – we never got to spar.

Civil Unrest Teaser

Wave after wave of Chaos minions… Rubble litters the streets, corpses lay rotting in alleys, doors stay barred from within, windows are smashed and a black smoke fills the air. This is the proud mighty capital of the Empire? Fie upon Karl Franz and his councilors! It is their duty to protect the city and the Empire, yet when hard times fall upon the Empire it is we, the common-folk, who suffer for his decisions! This is no way to live! Now we’re told we have to pay a ‘Reconstruction Tax’ to help rebuild the once-glorious city! More stinkin’ taxes?! Martial law to protect us?! It’s hard enough to lead a normal life with all this warfare going on and now more taxes and our own neighbors breathin’ down our necks… Well if Karl Franz wants to tax me more then it looks like I’ve got to find another way to make a quick coin…

~ Jurgen Kuper, Citizen of Altdorf