Ulthuan

Ulthuan, Home of the Asur
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 15, 2015 6:09 pm 
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Hell ELgi

My gaming group are rightfully unhappy about how the end times went down therefore some of us are writing are own versions of the ET instead here is the start of mine

Introduction
The first part is the same as the introduction in ET Nagash but the faction introductions are slightly different.
Prologue

In Nagaroth the Northmen spilled across the Ironfrost glacier and into the bleak lands below, led by Valkia the Bloodied Horde swept through the Dark rider patrols and sent them fleeing back to Volroth. Incredibly however, the Naggarothi were caught unawares for the tower of prophecy lay unusually silent in the mists. Without the sorceresses of Grond to alert them the Naggarothi outposts were singled out and destroyed one by one, as the Chaos horde sped onwards to the beats of many war drums its savagery grew for there was no strategy but to claim skulls in Khornes name.
Nevertheless messengers got out and Ebnir Soulflayer rode to Volroth with a large host of Naggarothi from Naggaeond. However, this glimmer of hope was soon eradicated when they arrived just as the proud obsidian walls were torn down by demon fire and the garrison could be seen being slaughtered in the distance. Soulflsyer set his army to slaughter the invaders and with crossbow and spear drove the Northmen away but in a storm of blood Valkia descended on the army and the bloodied set to work on glorious slaughter and a large tribute if skulls to the skull throne. Ebnir was one of the last to fall being been apart by the Gorequeen’s (Valkia) blades.
No sooner had the spires of Volroth been shattered and the defenders skulls been piled up, the bloodied horde rampaged on further. Like the winds it came crashing down destroyed city’s and army’s as Valkia’s horde descended on Naggarond. Other portions of the horde travelled east to assail Har Ganeth, whilst some headed south to besiege Hag Greaf where they were overcome the army of Malus Darkblade in a tide of death as the cold hearted regiments fought with the fever of Khiane. Although in truth Darkblade did not care weather Naggarond fell as long as Malekith fell with it, but of Malekith there was no sign.
Meanwhile Kouran Darkland master of the Black guard of Naggarond led the defence, twice had the bloodied horde threatened to overwhelm the defenders until Kouran had met Valkia in combat and driven her off, although Kouran could not break the siege himself for he lacked the tactical mind to do so. Finally after several months the witch king returned and drove the Northmen away from Naggaronds wall. However, none dared to ask what
had kept him so long and the battle for Naggaroth continued in a bitter stalemate. This ugly new turn of events caused Malekith to Grudgingly order all force bound for the invasion of Ulthuan to return for defend the kingdom. Ancient enmity would have to wait, for now.



On Ulthuan the absence of Naggarothi attacks was not unnoticed although the ten kingdoms had little chance to revel in the unusual calm, for the rising power of Chaos threatened to engulf Ulthuan once again. Suddenly on a night riven by crimson lighting clouds descended down from the Annulii Mountains, fuelled by Tzeench, anything this mist of change touched was reformed, trees and plants were twisted into vile shapes and creatures residing there were slain or warped into twisted new forms. Of the creatures of Ulthuan only the high elves were unaffected. Wherever the cloud floated the walls of reality weekend and soon Ulthuan was overrun by Daemons, the waters of Cothiqe and Ellryion become bloated with slime and noxious emissions which brewed by Nurgle, the forests if Chrace were set ablaze by howling warpfire of Tzeench. Furthermore, Bloodletters rampaged through Ulthuan burning cities and stacking skulls as they went, Corthqie and Yvresse were overrun by hordes of Khornes chosen and soon the great cities of Athel Tamarha and Tor Alin were overrun and put to the sword, the daemons of Khorne claiming the skulls of the population and garrison for their dark master. All around Ulthuan army’s lay slain and towns and city’s sacked. Here and there the armies were formed to attempt to drive off the daemons whilst mages attempted to stem the corruption.
With all these new threats the elves sought the guidance of the phoenix more than ever but Finubar was nowhere to be seen. As mutterings began at court it was revealed that the phoenix king had locked himself in a tower to attempt to find a source to relive Ulthuan however, many other nobles jumped at the opportunity and whilst the armies of Ulthan battled the demonic hosts nobles schemed and dissent arose around the nobility of the realm.
With Finubar presumed missing or isolated the task of leadership fell to the heroes of the realm. Unfortunately many of these were in the process of returning home from a disastrous rescue attempt. Manfred Von Carstein had captured the Everqueens daughter Aliathra and so far the vampire had made sure that no attempt to relive the ever child was successful. Therefore whilst the survivors of the rescue mission were returning home others were defending Ulthuan. Imrik of Caledor fought tirelessly to rid the lands of daemons and where he stepped the tide was turned however, despite Imrik holding the realm together hope was fading for the high were slowly but surely losing control of their home land. Chrace was almost all but overrun and what was once a land covered in tall forests was now a barren waste land, whilst Avelorn and Ellyrion were in similar situations and seems sure to follow suit. Not only was the phoenix king missing but Alarielle the Everqueen had seemingly abandoned her beloved Averlorn and had retreated into the world roots on some unknown journey of her own.
Finally Imrik of Caledor spoke the words which now lay as a heavy burden on manys minds, the Phoenix king had clearly abandoned his realm and so another should take his place. Although many knew that Imrik sought the crown for himself in a crisis such as this many lords and nobles rightfully believed that a hero such as him would be needed if Ulthuan was to survive, and as the days and nights passed more voices were raised in support of Imrik.
Soon though Tyrion and Teclis returned in failure and the greatest heroes of Ulthuan found themselves in a war torn land divided by intrigues at court. Teclis was appalled and although knew Imriks motives to be honourable he himself also noticed the division among the council and knew that Ulthuan must stand united. Deeming that there was no other choice available Teclis resolved to breach the phoenix kings tower, such a task was difficult even for a mage of his calibre and it took the mage 3 days to break the enchants and another which would enact the spell to open wards which controlled the door. As Teclis hurried in to the tower he left it even paler than normal as the enchantments took hold again and locked the tower to the outside world leaving the mage outside to dwell on what he had seen.
Meanwhile Tyrion was spending his time in Ulthuan preparing another expedition to rescue Aliathra and therefore, had spared little attention to the destruction of Ulthuan and the growing dissent at court. Thus did Teclis beg his brother to take command of Ulthuans defences the prince felt the suggestion with growing resentment. Not knowing what to do Tyrion sought the creator’s guidance and travelled to the shrine of Asuryan. As the prince approached the serried lines of the phoenix guard were found blocking his entrance. However, no sooner had Tyrion displayed his identity the phoenix guard bowed. They would follow him. Therefore grudgingly Tyrion decided to take up the defence of Ulthuan and despite Eltharions counsel Tyrion bid him to remain home and defend his native Yvresse. Suddenly Eltharions younger brother Argalen intervened and proposed that he and Eldyra (Princess of Tiranoc) would resolve to rescue Aliathara from Manfreds clutches or die trying.
Tyrion returned to the Phoenix council at the height of one of Imriks speeches, the prince entered the room clad in full plate and with Sunfang in hand; raising the sword high he challenged every lord in the chamber to put aside their differences or to be slain on Sunfangs edge. All present shamed or cowed by Tyrions words save Imrik who questioned under what authority had Tyrion been able to speak in such manner, Anarions air simply smiled and declared he was the herald of Asuryan and under his authority Imrik had no choice but to step down, the Caledorian’s heart froze with rage and he swept out of the chamber abandoning forever his dreams of claiming the phoenix crown. Soon after a great host marched out of Lothern with Tyrion at its head, meanwhile a second smaller army set sail east a few days after with Argalena and Eldyra at its head. The loremaster of Hoeth Belannaer travelled with the fleet and picked up the Everchilds voice upon the wind and discovered she was held captive in the region known to men as Sylvania, and was plain that her capture was part of some larger plot. Hence why Belannaer advised that Argalen seek help from other nations. The prince loathed that they should seek aid from men and dwarfs but could see it as the only resort of success. Swallowing his pride Argalen ordered the fleet to head east to the empire of Sigmar



In the Empire times were bleak and growing steadily bleaker
The portents had not gone unnoticed in the land of Sigmar thought few actually realised the ominous times that would proceed in their wake, for many looked upon the twin tallied comet and saw hope, perhaps even the return of their ancestral warrior god Sigmar. However, priests of Sigmar reminded the populace of how Sigmar had been born and risen to adult hood in the time of mankind’s darkest hour and those times could well be nigh once. And do it proved.
As the comet grew brighter the Drakwald forest became alive with rumours of a beastman shaman named Malagor, the old stories of him had long proved to be superstitious but now Gregor Martak head of the amber collage claimed to have spotted the beastman amidst the ruins of a small village near Middenheim. Soon beastman activity continued this time more aggressive and soon many villagers prayed to Taal that he would preserve them from the howling beats beyond the palisade.
On the comet sped past Morslieb and dissent began to grow in the empire as the lure of Chaos drew many to madness or defection. Furthermore, disease began to spread which the sisters of Shallaya were powerless to stop. In response to the sickness of the mind and body many unscrupulous merchants amassed fortunes selling medicines and elixirs that would shield one against the stigmata of Chaos. Many of these were fake and were fact a mixture of poisons or even coloured waters, although this seldom mattered to the buyers. Not all of the merchants got away with those heinous acts, for in Middenheim Elector count Boris Todbringer had a merchant strung from the city walls after h lost a nephew to a fatal infusion of hagbane and docksnare. After that the elixir trade in Middenheim noticeable stalled but flourished elsewhere in the lands of the empire.
Merchants were not the only ones to profit from the doom laden times, for Flagellants and doomsayers found themselves swamped by followers, and as the number of Flagellants grow so did their aggressiveness. As the twin tallied comet sped past Mannslieb, many state troops were mobilised to defend cities in containing the crowds and in Nuln even this proved to be insufficient as the city was overwhelmed by howling doomsayers who would have sent the countess to the bonfires had a retired captain not rescued the countess from the clutches of the flagellants and with the help of a band of state troops and militia barricaded themselves into an old building until the knights griffin could ride in from Reikland to quell the riots.
As the twin tallied comet sped past the constellation of Kerr, the vampire Manfred von Carstein grew ever more cunning and finally revealed himself once again and declared Sylvania was at war with the empire once again, and cloaked the province in an unnatural darkness. Spurred by righteous outrage Grand Theoganist Volkmar plunged headlong into the darkness to confront the vampire, and although the fiend had been defeated for now at least. Upon his return to Altdorf Volkmar though bloodied the old man was still unmoved declared that Sylvanias border was fortified with towering ramparts of bone. Worse still those witch hunters who had the courage to travel in range of the wall had reported that even the most potent of their holy weapons were useless. The only glimmer of hope in the darkness was the fact that Balthasar Gelt supreme patriarch of the collages of magic had succeeded in crafting a wall of faith around Sylvania which no undead creature could cross. All things being equal though not even the staunchest of traditionalists would have objected to the loss of Sylvania for it had always been a burdensome and blighted province.
However, many feared that this would be a precursor to a new campaign therefore, Karl Franz ordered the armies of the empire to march to Sylvania determined to destroy what was left of its vile inhabitants.
Unfortunately the campaign was cut short when the riders of Kislev arrived at Altdorfs gates, a mere two days before the emperor’s Sylvania campaign. The Kislevites and ridden so hard that many of their steeds were almost dead on their feet, even worse they carried dire news – The Northlanders were on the march again and Kislev had already fallen. The only glimmer of hope however, was that the ice queen Tsarina still lived and was fighting a brutal guerrilla war near Erengrad. No sooner than the message been received Karl Franz had set his heralds to the task of redirecting the imperial army’s to the Kislev border to stop his realm from suffering the same fate as Kislev.
For the next few weeks the fate of the empire hung in the balance for it seemed that the hordes of Northmen were the sand in in an hour glass waiting to flood the Empire and tear it apart. In an attempt to reach the border before the Northmen armys were forced march almost to exhaustion and lone regiments were preyed upon by Greenskins and Beastmen hungry for slaughter. Furthermore many regiments were decimated by plague and famine which spread through their ranks, all in all for every ten men that began the journey only seven reached their destination. For most the men the fighting began as soon as they reached their destination for the Northlanders had flooded into the empire in many places and armies of Ostland, Hochland, Talabecland and Ostermark were hard pressed to hold all the borders at once. The most threatening Chaos host marched under the ragged turquoise banners of Vilitch the Curseling, and whilst other hordes shattered like water on a rock against the Empires entrenched fortifications the Curselings host bypassed these and assaulted castle von Rauken. Thus was castle von Rauken besieged and only a series of genius counterattacks by Aldebrand Ludenhof Elector count of Hochland saw the fortress preserved, yet the horde was too large to be broken from petty skirmishes.
Finally when army’s from Altdorf and Reikland arrived Ludenhof had the strength to drive of the followers of Chaos in the battle of Lubrecht where he placed a bullet in one of Vilitch’s skulls forcing the sorcerer to withdraw allowing his host to be routed and destroyed by the blades of the Hochlanders and Ostlanders.
Whilst the heroic effects of the Elector counts Valmir von Raukov, Alebrand Ludenhof, and Wolfram Hertwig bring the empire hope on the northern border, Karl Franz was ever in the search of allies; for he knew that the empire would require aid from other realms in the struggle to come, otherwise it would require a miracle.


As the Empire battled for survival the influence of Chaos began to creep through the shadows leaving no trace but corruption in its wake.
With every orbit since the coming of the comet shadowy Morslieb became in home in on the world, and beneath those shadows alters of the Dark gods emerged from the ground. Soon each of the herd stones were emitting the tainting energies of Chaos in the surroundings.
And from the woods around the idols came the beastmen.
The children of Chaos found the new scent new and unheard of, but primal needs drove them as if it was an offering from the dark gods themselves. As braying howls filled the air the idols foretold the children of Chaos in their glory, in Athel Loren the herd stones prophesied to Morghor the final demise of the wood elves, whilst in the Drakwald Kazrak one eyed witnessed the death of his hated nemesis (Graf Boris Todbringer). Furthermore the stones all said the same thing…

The time of the beast was coming.



For the folk of Athel Loren the resurgence of the beastmen could not have come at a worse time. The battle of Quenelles had ended in defeat and as Ariel stepped foot into the forest once again the forest was dying.
As far as any knew, the mage queen had left the battle unscathed but the moment she stepped foot in the forests bounds she had felt a terrible calamity drawing closer which would consume the entire world. Ariel felt little comfort at for Oak of ages for rot and sickness had begun on the tree, and even Ariel could come not come up with any explanation for this sudden change.
With many of the glades being consumed by the growing taint of Chaos beastman were drawn in numbers not seen in centuries, glade by glade the wood elves were losing control of their ancestral home. All around the frost the Asrai despaired as the balance of the weave shifted so did the wood elves resolve, and it was only the wild hunt of Orion which kept the few surviving glades secure, but even now the forest was dying from inside out and was tacking the wood elves with it. Denied council by their king and queen the wood elf defence was far less coordinated and more Asrai perished day by day as the beastman closed in.
“Ariel was solemnly sitting at the foot of the Oak of age’s its once beautiful and pure timbers were splitting and falling apart, the forest was also getting darker by day. As Ariel solemnly placed her hands on the Oak of ages tears began to flow from her tender cheeks, although she was very much in full health her power seemed to have drained to the point to where her control of the weave had completely ground to a sudden halt; above her the booming laughter of the Chaos gods could be herd faintly above.”

Several months after the plight of the Oak of ages had begun a new intruder entered the forest. She had travelled through the world roots, but had come alone despite the perils and so the wood elves of Athel Loren greeted Alarielle Everqueen of Ulthuan. Although Alarielle was taken with distrust at first, she was none the less granted an audience with the council and spoke of Aliathra’s capture by Manfred von Carstein and the many attempts to rescue her. For she feared the damge it would wreck on Ulthuan and the larger effect on her as the mother. However the Everqueens fears went deeper than this for she could sense the shifting balance of the weave and one which upset the balance between life and death. She told them of Argalen’s mission to rescue her, and begged that the wood elves would assist her in some way.
The council disused Alarielle’s request inside out, for few wished to weaken Athel Lorens defences against the rampaging beastmen, but nor did any want the weave to sustain further damage. Hence why the matter was settled by an unexpected source. Durthu eldest of ancients and seldom addressed the council in decades for his mind had often been too far afield, but he spoke calmly and without wrath. The ancient tree man declared how the cycle of the world was beginning anew and the forest would indeed aid Ulthuan once again but there would be a price.
Alarielle accepted without hesitation, and the council agreed for a host to be assembled to pierce the borders of Sylvania. The host would be led by Araloth for it was well known that he had the favour of the goddess Lileath which would be much needed in the land of the vampires
“Alarielle arrived at clearing ripe with decay and the taint of Chaos, under the gaze of the moon she descended into the clearing were she noticed another women with her hands pressed against the Oak of ages trying desperately to halt the corruption which was slowly engulfing the forest. As Alarielle pressed her hands against the Oak of ages Ariel felt some streangth restored and once again she could just faintly harness the winds of magic
“Mother you must get rest” Arahan replied desperately
Ariel nodded slowly, as with her knew strenagh seeping into her body she felt hope renewed and took one last look at Alarielle
“Thank you” Ariel whispered”


When the folk of Bretonnia common born and noble alike recalled the horrors recant years they concluded that their kingdom was surly dammed.
First had come the year of woe when daemons had ravaged the four corners of the realm. Then had followed the uprising of Mallobaude B-----d son of the king, who had long been gathering an army in Mousillon, and on the eve of Winter he loosed it to seize control of his father’s throne. Disgraced knights from across the realm flocked to Mallobaude’s serpent banner as king Louen Royach of Bretonnia gathered his own scattered armies. The situation steadily worsened; as after the battle of Chalons and the calamitous disappearance of Morgiana le Fey, the Dukes of Carcassonne, Lyonesse, and Artois declared themselves for mallobaude and the rebellion blossomed into civil war.
At first Louen’s forces had the upper hand defeating Mallobaudes followers with victory after victory. Yet a year into the campaign when it seemed that Mallobaude would finally be defeated the serpents true evil was revealed; for he had made a pact with the ancient liche Arkhan the black, and the serpent’s ranks were soon filled with mindless dead.
By the time that Louen faced his B-----d son at the battle of Quenelles Mallobaude’s horde was far larger than the kings; in fact the situation had become so dire that wood elves of Athel Loren had lent their strength to the king’s cause. In the end the battle ended in a disastrous defeat for the Bretonnians when Mallobaude cast his father’s broken body into the mud and scattered the enemy. Now with no resistance left Mallobaude Marched to Couronne. However, here the dukes of Bretonnia were united against him once again, this mattered not to Mallobaude and once again he sent out a challenge to any who dare face him. But this time it was no mortal duke or baron who challenged him, but the Sacremor – The legendary green knight, who had returned to his people in the hour of their need. It was then when Mallobaude recognised his doom, and just as the prince was about to flee the green knight charged the serpent and struck his head form his shoulders. With its master slain Mallobaudes army was soon routed but of Arkhan the black, there was no sign.
In the battles aftermath Mallobaudes body was burnt and its ashes scattered to the wind, but with victory at last achieved the surviving dukes each sought to take the throne for himself. Civil war would have been renewed again had the green knight not removed his helm and revealed himself as Gilles Le Breton the founder of the realm. Awestruck the dukes quickly ceded the throne and the folk of Bretonnia had reason to celebrate at last. They were soon to learn that they were wrong.
Just scant days after Gilles’s coronation, plague broke out in the southern provinces laying waste to what remained of Quenelles and Carcassonne. Then came the warp stone meteors crashing down to the surface spreading corruption, and in their wake came beastman ransacking entire villages, Shrines, and even towns. Nevertheless, Gilles despite saddened by this turn of events decided to muster the largest errantry he could and drive the creatures into the ocean for he would not have his kingdom destroyed just as hope was rekindled like a fireplace roaring once more.
Bretonnia would ride out once more: For honor, For the king, and FOR THE LADY!


Far to the east of Bretonnia High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer brooded, he could sense that the world was changing and not for the better.
From atop his throne of gold nestled in the great hall of the Everpeak he silently poured over reports, which kept coming every hour. All of these were tidings of ill fortune and portent, which caused a scowl to slowly appear underneath his magnificent beard.
The Dwarfs have ever been a dour race and their grim character is further fuelled by their habit of pointing out the decline in everything. However even for a race you likes to find fault with everything were shocked at just how ominous the signs seemed. From top their sturdy lookout towers carved form stone in the peaks of the world’s edge mountains, they marked this rising tide of gloom and darkness. The badlands were sprawling with Greenskins, countless Ogre tribes were migrating towards the old world from the north east and something sinister was at work in Sylvania for its borders were now fortified by battlements of bone. The most menacing signs came from the north however, for reports from Kraka Draka – the most distant of strongholds, reported that hordes of Northmen were marching towards the empire’s northern border and daemons scouring the land, as well as strange arcane lights in the sky’s above.
These grim tidings were the course of Thorgrims brooding, for although his people had waned in power since the once glorious golden age, they still remained a strong power in the world. For countless emeries broke on their matchless mountain fortress and time and time again the armies of the dwarfs would sally forth to sweep away and destroy invading armies. The prospect of facing all these threats again and at the same time was daunting even for the high king. Some of the clans including the influential Runesmiths guild pointed to the swelling number of adversity’s and declared that it was time for the dwarfs to seal their mountain fortresses form the outside world and wait out the storm.
Thorgrim however, took these ideas with a sour expression for it did not bode well with him to simply hide in their mountains and let the world crumble around them, and espite being oath bound to aid the Empire Thorgim knew that many kings would oppose a great muster and meeting these new foes head on. For king Kazador had already sealed the entrance of Karak Azul, such was the counsel of one of the greatest living Runesmith’s Thorek Ironbrow. Furthermore, (And far more to the high kings licking) Thorek petitioned the high king to put forward all efforts in recovering lost artefacts, for it was his hope that the dwarfs would be able to uncover some mighty heirlooms of the ancestor gods themselves. For Thorek was adamant that he had almost uncovered the hidden whereabouts of the lost portal stone of Valaya and believed that this allow the ancestor gods to enter the world once more heralding a knew golden age.
Of course though there were others who more readily accepted the high kings bidding for king Alrik of Karak Hirn and Ungrim Ironfist the slayer of Karak Kadrin were always looking for battle. Even king Belegar under siege as he was vowed to assist the high king in any way possible. For if the signs were being read correctly, a time of great calamity was fast approaching.
Although the throne seemed heavy as he watched the sun set over his mountain realm, Thorgim had vowed to strike out every entry in the book of grudges, or die trying; and Thorgrim was a dwarf of his word.


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