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!

Vampire Counts Initial Despatch

Deep beneath the Howling Hills, the Vampire Waldikir Rahtep sits upon his dusty, gem-clad throne and chuckles with the insane glee only one of his kind may know. For he sees that his plans are now set in motion, and the dead shall walk again in the lands of Men!

Being an ancient of his line, Rahtep has imposed his will upon many of his inferiors. Even as the Great Forest erupts in conflict, Rahtep has issued his orders. The Vampire Counts of Sylvania march upon their foes, seeking to exploit the chaos to expand their holdings and settle ancient debts of honour. Furthermore, Rahtep knows that as his armies fight, so the ranks of the Undead swell. Recently slain enemies are reanimated through blasphemous necromantic magic to fight their erstwhile brothers.

As all this takes place, Rahtep believes that his lair beneath the Howling Hills remains safe from troublesome Witch Hunters and other intruders. No matter the outcome of his plans and of the greater conflict, his resting place shall remain undisturbed.

Waldikir Rahtep's laughter grows all the more evil as he considers the possible outcomes of his actions. For, even should the Undead armies be defeated, he knows his interests will prevail, for his rivals too, even those at present bending to his will, will fall. Should he succeed, then from his throne he will rule an empire of the dead that will rival Khemri itself.

As the moon rises, so too do the dead, and Rahtep's cackling is audible even over the keening winds of the Howling Hills.

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