The Story Thus Far...

ar has come to the Great Forest, and the sky has turned black as ash-laden clouds obscure the sun. The forest resounds to the sound of marching feet and clashing steel. The armies of Men, Dwarfs, and Greenskins seek the Nemesis Crown, and smaller hosts from many other races are drawn to the fighting, determined to affect the outcome of the conflict.

The Nemesis Crown has been discovered, yet it was almost immediately lost. First a Dwarf Miner and then a Night Goblin claimed the crown before disappearing, having slaughtered their compatriots. None knows exactly who holds it now, or the terrible powers at work upon its bearer.

The armies of the Empire are mustered while the expert woodsmen of Talebecland are scouring the forest in search of the Goblin who escaped with the crown. The Emperor himself is encamped nearby and leads daily forays against the enemies invading his realm. Karl Franz harbours a desire to return to Altdorf with the crown, to enshrine it within the temple of Sigmar as an artefact as revered as any of the Runefangs.

The Dwarfs are encamped along the Old Dwarf road and have erected mighty fortifications around their camp. Thorgrim himself leads the hunt for the crown, yet a tension is building between Dwarf and Man. Whether or not the old allies will come to blows remains to be seen, though no one is in doubt that a time of great strife is fast approaching, and this oldest of alliances will be tested as never before.

Grimgor leads his vast greenskin horde from his lair in the Middle Mountains. Entire tribes of Forest Goblins crawl through the dark woods at Grimgor's command, seeking out the crown. A network of runners brings news of the hunt to Grimgor; yet few volunteer for the task, for bearers of bad tidings seldom survive Grimgor's wrath.

These are the factions active in the forest in the greatest numbers and with the most hope of gaining the crown. Yet, others are drawn to the conflict, whether through the desire to aid an ally, stymie a rival, or perhaps even to claim the crown for themselves.

The Beastmen have been driven from their ancient lairs in the deepest woods by the conflict, yet now they rally to the fell creature known as Morghur. The Wood Elves have responded to the intrusion of the other races into the deepest glades of the Great Forest by despatching parties to expel any and all invaders. The High Elves lend their aid to the forces of light, while their opportunistic dark kin sow fear and confusion in the name of the Witch King. The forces of the Undead are abroad too - the Vampire Rahtep leading the aristocracy of the night, taking advantage of the bloodshed to swell his shambling legions. Outrageous tales of bone-clad Khemrian ships traversing the Reik by moonlight have been discounted as hysterical rumour.

Whatever their agenda, every race in the world has a stake in the events unfolding in the Great Forest. Whether they seek to use the crown for their own ends or to hide it away so that others may not, to aid allies or simply to profit from the mayhem and bloodshed - the dark earth of the Great Forest shall soon be fed by the blood of those who would claim for themselves the Nemesis Crown!

Tomb Kings Initial Despatch

My esteemed compatriots of the Colleges of Magic,

Dire tidings from the Lands of the Dead reach my astounded ears, and I fear we must take action lest the work of centuries be undone! With the appearance of the Nemesis Crown in our own lands, dead and dry things stir in their dusty tombs far to the south. Terrible reports have reached me, stating that the inhabitants of the tombs that our agents have plundered have now risen. It is as if they are awakened from the slumber by the Crown’s effect upon the Winds of Magic. I have discerned that these fearful creatures have awoken in large numbers to discover their most precious artefacts gone, their eternal treasuries empty. They now march north, out of the haze of the southern desert, through the Greenskins’ lands, to attack the settlements of Men wherever they may be found.

As if this news were not terrible enough, more fearful stories reach my ears! Ghostly barques have been seen plying the lower reaches of the Reik by moonlight. These tales are so outlandish I would dismiss them, but they keep coming from many ordinarily reliable sources.

What can all this mean? I harbour a fear I barely dare state, yet state it I must. I fear that Settra himself has been awoken by the reappearance of the Crown to find his land plundered by our actions. Those items lost to him are now to be found locked away in lonely wizards’ towers from Kislev to the Border Princes. Worse still, the greatest numbers of relics are to be found in the very Colleges of Magic! What if, my friends, the ghosts of long dead kings are set upon the recovery of all such items?

Surely, such a thing cannot be…

Can it?

Your servant,

Cyrston von Danling

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