Profile: The Great Skritt



Believed to have arrived in the Tallowlands from another realm, the rat-scientist known as the Great Skritt has long harboured plans to dominate the Underland. Having manipulated, bullied or outright murdered a sufficiently impressive number of lesser engineers, he formed the notorious Skryrenet in order to harvest resources and influence warlords across the realm. This culminated in the Skaven Dread Council putting military decisions into the claws of Skryrenet, whereupon Skritt instigated a series of simultaneous civil wars designed to eliminate all power structures across the Skaven-held Underland and deliver full control to him.

His plan was close to succeeding when, desperate, the Skaven of the Dar'Koath caverns forged an alliance with the surface clans. An army of overland warriors led by Yan of the Connaghi entered the Underland and eventually destroyed Skryrnet's defence grid, causing Skritt to flee.

An unintended consequence of this was that the Underland goblins, previously weakened by their own infighting, saw opportunities to expand and a significant amount of territory was lost to goblin factions. Yan Connaghi remains in the Underland to this day, aiding the Skaven clans in battle against the goblins.

The Great Skritt disappeared for a period of time but has recently reemerged and seeks to rebuild Skryrnet. He seeks caches of warp-emerald, a potent energy source which will allow him to power a time-travel device he has built. Once he has enough warp-emerald to generate thirteen kilo-ratts of power* he will send the being known as the Verminator back in time to prevent Yan Connaghi from being born.

He believes that the fall of the Sinian Empire has left vast troves of warp-emerald free for looting. In particular, it seems that areas home to many Undead beings ("Gribblians", as they are known in the Skaven tongue) are rich in warp-emerald. Indeed, he has identified a Gribblian Terrorgheist whose hoard is likely to contain all the warp-emerald he needs.

Skritt is always accompanied by his pet, a well-trained rat called Morty McFlea. He intends to use McFlea to conduct the test run of his device.

It has been rumoured that, while on the run from the Connaghi, Skritt stole an item of value from the Underland goblins. The nature of this item is as yet unknown.

*Author's note: this is the power required to propel the device at a speed of eighty-eight miles per hour.

Profile: Da Green Night Gobbo


Nominally second in command to the Questin' Grot, the Green Night Gobbo is something of a loose cannon even by Grotonnian standards. Rarely expected - or even wanted - within the halls of Grotonnia's king, he wanders the surrounding region looking for easy plunder and unsuspecting victims.

Although he is at best an occasional presence in the armies of Grotonnia, he has an almost supernatural ability to arrive on the battlefield, unlooked-for and unheralded, a hero emerging from the mist, just as the fight is going really well. This unearthly sense of timing has earned him many descriptions in the tongue of the Underland - "myffic"*, "effeereul"**, and "annanigma"*** to list but three.

He has a nose for loot and on many occasion the Questin' Grot - sick of having his boots stolen or his codpiece pilfered - will convince the king to feed him to the squigs, only for the Green Night Gobbo to show up at that very moment bearing a new shiny bauble as a gift and weasel his way back into royal favour. Such an uncanny talent for self-preservation means he is most often known as "git"****.











*tr: "Git"
**tr: "Git"
***tr: "Git" 
****tr: "One of questionable personal and moral qualities"

Profile: The Twins


The Twins - known to their handlers as Big and Bouncy - are two of the most gruesomely cheerful denizens of Grotonnia. When they were younger, the Grotonnians would use them as bait in a Djael, or ambush, when hunting loot-carrying quarry. Now they have reached full maturity, they are a prized asset on the battlefield where they will be prodded into place by means of the 'Wunda-bar', a large and rusty iron spike. They will be maneuvered into a position in which they are both impressive and intimidating to the enemy commander, whereupon they will be unleashed in all their manic glee while the rest of the Grotonnians sneak round the back of the distracted foe and stab 'em up.

The Adventures of Nathaniel Hultz: Part XVII

I played an awesome game of AOS with LordBloodTheHungry, subject of a previous blog post warmatale.  I am hoping LordBloodTheHungry writes one up from his perspective as well as this will be from my characters perspective, hence the title.  His previous story really inspired me to think of these games even more from a character perspective and really humanised his Khorne inspired force for me.


The Key 

The key wasn't much to look, a strange old thing that seemed to writhe and fade in his hands before coming back to reality with a pop. It seemed to go hand in hand with this creature he had captured, that 'goblin' that he had only become fully aware of after a particularly distasteful discussion with that d’Jons fellow. This creature smelled the same way that d'Jons did, a sort of sly magical greedy smell. 

He was sure that d'Jons was right though.  This one was some sort of demon of avarice.  The key?  Well that was interesting too as he finally learned how it worked.  Shanduko had been particularly helpful in the interrogation offering much and demanding little.  That itself was uncharacteristic and unnerving.  He made a mental note to investigate that later.

The creature could use the key innately but for Hultz a ritual would be required.  He could open a portal with the key.  

This portal was awesomely painted by our own Lucifer216

He wasn't quite sure where it would go but he did learn at least how to create it without killing himself and the single most important rule associated with it: It led to the object of your greatest affection at that moment but to use it you had to sacrifice your most treasured possession.  No wonder the creatures were so effective in using it, they were fickle spiteful things that cared only for the next rush of gold, perhaps never understanding that they sacrificed the last jewel they stole to their patron in pursuing their next one.

First he checked my Endless Spell of Protection*, it would be necessary due to the vulnerabilities created in the ritual.  Then he carefully placed the Nine Original planets stolen from the Hurricanum all those years ago.  Six of them started glowing purple and three blue.  Focus: What did he want, Focus: What  would he give up?.  Finally the ceremony had begun...

*See Part XVIII, this spell prevents any enemy of Hultz from striking while weak, unaware or vulnerable.  

The Mystic Key


Nathaniel Hultz looked around. He sniffed the air. It was here. It was here. He knew it, knew it without knowing how, but he knew it.

It had been close before, close enough to sense, but always whisked away – somehow – by unknown hands whenever he got near. This time was different. This time he had veiled his seeking and hidden his plans and now was in the presence of his reward.

The key. The unknown key; the infuriatingly, maddeningly unknowable key. A key to what? He could not even guess. But he had paid a steep price for the visions which guided him and he would not allow it to have been in vain.

Movement across the way brought him back from his thoughts and into the present. The barbarians were in position and ready to search. He wondered if he could trust them to surrender the prize if they found it first; probably not, by his reckoning. It did not matter – his own servants had been summoned and he would overwhelm the barbarians with cosmic fire once their usefulness expired. They were the hounds of a feral god and deserved no better.

He drew a deep breath and readied his mind. It seemed strange to think that he had expected to find the key in some deep dungeon or in an impenetrable fortress, such was its pull. And yet, here he stood, knee-deep in mist on the edge of some nameless, dreary town too close to the Tolerance to be called civil. Perhaps, when his life’s work was finished and songs sung of his deeds, the story would be changed to better suit its significance.

He saw the barbarians step forward to begin the search. With a thought, he commanded his own followers to do the same.

It was time. 



Torpal tried not to grin. He knew the pretence was almost over; battle was nigh, he could feel it. It had been too long coming and a reckoning was due.

For months now, Torpal and his priests had travelled across Rhô, spreading worship of the Warhound to the towns and villages they passed through. Mostly they were run out of town before they could sow more than a token scattering of war-fever among the populace, but Torpal was old enough and wise enough to know that a true inferno rises from many lesser fires and that he may well have perished before his life’s work truly bloomed to its full, raging glory.

A few settlements, however, had proved to be receptive to his exhortions and their – mostly impoverished and resentful – inhabitants had turned their streets and squares into cauldrons of fury. Peasants became gladiators and revelled in their brief moments as gore-soaked champions until they were cut down by their friends and neighbours. From these theatres of combat a mighty few emerged triumphant, worthy of their new place at Torpal’s side.

They had been diverted from their task by the appearance of the one called Hultz. He had offered them gold in exchange for their assistance in seeking a mysterious treasure, and in doing so had revealed his own foolishness. For it was clear that Hultz had identified Torpal’s men as followers of the Warhound, and further still it was clear that he was one of the myriad ‘civilised’ men who saw the Wild Gods as brutish loners whose sole occupation was jostling for supremacy with each other. But like any clansman, Torpal knew that the gods bartered and bargained with each other. Indeed, the one known as the Other Trickster had appeared to Torpal in a vision. He had offered Torpal information and, when Torpal asked what it would cost, had said that Torpal knowing was price enough. Torpal was certain that there would be a hidden cost, but had agreed and was granted knowledge of Hultz and his quest. So it was that when Hultz approached him for aid, Torpal held in check his desire to cleave the dandy’s head from his oh-so-finely-cloaked shoulders and accompanied him across many lands to this unremarkable field on the edge of this mean, measly town.

Torpal knew that Hultz was a wizard – he could almost smell the magic oozing out of the man’s pores – and he suspected him of being a lapdog of the Treacherous One. As such, it seemed to Torpal that despite being a fool and a braggart Hultz would be possessed of a measure of cunning and would have secret followers of his own to summon. It was to be expected that Hultz would betray Torpal’s men once he had found what he sought.

It was no surprise to Torpal therefore when the magic coalesced into a cohort of twisted beings. A powerful retinue emerged around Hultz, and Torpal was certain that Hultz was capable of more. They were on opposite sides of the field, ready to search for the mysterious item which Hultz sought. From across the field Torpal was sure that he could see Hultz smirking, secure in his superiority.

Torpal’s instinct was to pre-empt the inevitable betrayal and attack, but he was genuinely interested to know what it was that Hultz was seeking. In any case, Torpal had reason to believe that his men would be aided in battle from an unexpected quarter. In his arrogance Hultz had neglected to give any thought to the town on whose border they stood. He did not even know its name. But Torpal knew.

He had been there before. 



As Hultz and Torpal instructed their followers to begin the search a thin breeze blew some of the mist away. For a brief period the long grass and tall weeds of the field could be seen, bending a little in the wind. Then something else emerged. A number of curious and unexpected shapes – piles of things, floating rocks and other such items – could be seen among the greenery. Certainly they had no cause to be in a place such as this, and the watchers could not be sure if they had been there all along or whether they only appeared when observed.

Suddenly there was movement near the centre of the field. Something glanced over the tops of the weeds and shrieked when it saw the assembled searchers. A gust of wind – much stronger than before – burst over the field and blew down the vegetation. Visible to all was a strange goblin, clearly panicking as it shovelled pieces of gold and silverwork into a bizarre, living satchel-creature.

Torpal’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Lühtefiend!” he gasped, disbelieving. The goblin yelped once more and dashed into a patch of longer grass, vanishing from sight.


 I GM'd a game at the weekend between Father Torpal, priest of Rorralarach (Lord Blood the Hungry) and Nathaniel Hultz, alleged boss of Jethelech (Omricon). Mostly the intention was to start to familiarise ourselves with the Age of Sigmar rules, but everyone knows narrative games are the best so we took the opportunity to write in a cool setting and start to nudge the Tallowlands story along. While I'm not going to give you a blow-by-blow account of the game (although a few battle photos will hopefully appear in the near future...), some of the stand-out moments were:

- Torpal using an ability on the ground, in the hope of making the treasure goblin run towards him (this was one of those delightful moments you get as a GM, where one of the players does something you would never have come up with yourself).

- A unit of 5 Pink Horrors getting chopped up in melee and the unit managing to end the turn with 5 pink and 10 blue Horrors. Maffs.

- Torpal inciting the locals to fight with absolutely everybody, earning Lord Blood some victory points and Rorralarach a new town.

- Shanduko appeared!

- A Slaughterpriest went to investigate a floating, glowing rock and was really disappointed to discover that it was only a floating, glowing rock.

- Hultz grabbed the treasure goblin (and key) and then acted exactly as you'd expect by leaving his followers to get pummelled while he made a run for it.

All of these were great, but by far the best moment for me was seeing the look on Omricon's face when he realised that there was a treasure goblin to pilfer. Pure joy.

The Goretide

The Red Moon Rises part 2

Hjorvard woke. At least he felt like he'd just woken, but it was still dark? No, his eyes weren't open. He tried to open them, they wouldn't open. "Gods! I'm blind!" he thought. No, there's just something keeping them shut, he moved his arm to rub his eyes, and winced at the pain, oh it was sore, the wince caused more pain to shoot through his body. Everything hurt! As he moved his skin pulled and tugged, hairs tore out as something coating it cracked and clung and came apart as he moved. 
As he took off his helm and rubbed off the sticky crustiness caking his eyes shut he began to take in his situation. 

He was slumped against the wall of a cliff with a big rocky overhang blotting out the sun overhead. The ground was cold earth, and he appeared to be covered in a crusty substance that he realized must be dried blood, absolutely caked in it! 
Everything hurt! He was sore from head to toe with fatigue and exertion. He'd only just woken, but had he ever felt this exhausted before? 
On the plus side, apart from a lot of bruising, a few shallow cuts, and extreme ache in all his muscles, he did seem to be intact. There was a dent full of rock dust in his new helm and the back of his head was a little tender, but the helm seemed to have done its job, and was otherwise intact and still wearable. 
Oh! his legs hurt, and they wouldn't move. there was something pinning them down, he reached down and used the arrows sticking out of it to move the heavy body of the big hairy beastman aside, the source of the blood caking him, and squeeked as the returning circulation caused a 'pins and needles' sharp tingling sensation up and down his legs.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom he could make out more shapes in the dark area under the overhang. There were robed bodies everywhere. skinny gangly limbs poked out from under the robes, one was face up he looked into lifeless beady eyes, sharp teeth, pointy ears... goblins! 
a sudden cold sensation of fear of the unknown trickled down his spine, and he looked for a weapon. one of his knives was under the beastman's chest, the other was nowhere to be seen but there was a heavy, brutal looking, crude axe nearby, so he took that. Feeling more secure, and a lot braver now that he was armed, he got, painfully, to his feet and began to investigate. It was time to find out where the Goretide had left him.

Through the gloom he could make out more corpses...lots of grots and the occasional other, thankfully no one he recognized, it had been a massacre!
He vaguely remembered Father Torpal trying to drum home an important point about grot encampments in some of their navigation classes, but the dull throbbing from the blow to his head was making it difficult to recall any details.

The camp was inside some kind of hap-hazard fence he guessed was a crude goblin attempt at a palisade wall. the tents looked to be some kind of hide, as he closed on the nearest one he noticed the unusual texture and realized it was the skin from a huge mushroom, adorned with trinkets, presumably of value...
Treasure Goblins!!! Hjorvard almost shouted out in excitement as he remembered. That must be it, the point Father Torpal had been making, goblin camps were famous for Treasure Goblins, they were in all his favourite heroic legends of the Tallowlands. A magically enhanced goblin who carried all the tribe's wealth and plunder, and if you could find its horde, or catch the treasure goblin its self you were rich!! Rich! Treasure! Magic items! the fabled stuff of heroes, this was clearly his destiny unfolding. He began excitedly searching the tents and stalking shadows, looking for signs of movement and anything that looked like a stash of treasure. 

He was moving some grubby blankets aside to look behind them when something moved! it shrieked as he looked at it then raced out of the tent entrance. it was  quick! he gave chase and made a grab for it, it jinked left dodging his hand, but he still had the blanket in the other and flung it as he dove in the direction the creature was going. 
it was definitely under the blanket, he could see it wriggling for the top edge, and he moved his arm to trap it. when it realized it was trapped it stopped moving. he gathered himself. got ready, flung the blanket aside and grabbed the creature underneath. 
the little blighter bit him on the thumb. he recoiled then grabbed it tight. 
"A Ha!" he exclaimed. "now lets see your treasures!" 
it squeaked, gasped... he realized he was squeezing very tight, too tight. ashamed he relaxed his grip so it wasn't crushing but was still too secure for the creature to struggle free. it was a small green humanoid creature with big ears and a huge nose. It looked at him forlornly, sobbed, and he realized it had wet its self. its big eyes had weren't full of menace, it didn't look very bright at all. where was its treasure? come to think of it this wasn't much bigger than a cat, it couldn't carry much treasure. bits of lessons returned through the murk of his memories, "you're a snotling aren't you?" he said. there wasnt a glimmer of understanding from the creature, it just continued to look forlorn. "well, on your own you are hardly a threat." he set it down and released it, it stood quaking for a moment, then realized it wasn't going to be eaten, and scarpered.   

He continued to look through the camp for something useful, and possibly a treasure goblin.

All he found was a box of dangerous looking mushrooms and a small silver sickle.  
he sat down on a rock, his head was clearing, memories of the lesson were coming back... was sunny, the class was outside under the old tree. 
"...and what do we know about the Tallowland Grot...?" said Father Torpal. 
" treasure goblins!" blurted Hjorvard. 
the class laughed, he felt his cheeks redden. 
"that's just a fairy tale for children Hjorvard," Father Torpal tutted, "I honestly thought you were past that!" he shook his head. the mocking laughter increased,
Hjorvard wished the ground would swallow him up, some of his classmates were half his age!
"...but every fairy tale has a grain of truth in it somewhere." Father Torpal winked 
"I'll try again, if you'll let me finish..." he glanced at Hjorvard who hung his head. 
"What do we know about the Tallowland Grots, in reference to post goretide navigation?"
"they Follow the moon?" said someeon Hjorvard didn't see
"good!" said Father Torpal "many grot tribes throughout the realms are moon clan's, their religions believe they gain their power from a big bad moon. so they follow the moon hoping it will lead them to power and glory."
"which Moon?" Tova asked
"care to elabortate?" invited father Torpal
"which moon," she repeated"we have so many in the Tallowlands, there's, the Lady Lisu, Rorolorach, the Wyrdmoon, the Emerald beacon, Naethe's torch..."
"...And here we have the problem." interrupted Father Torpal. "some realms have just one moon, so the positioning of a moon clan grot encampment can be a useful navigation tool, if you are familiar with your almanac and know which phase of which season  you are in. but unfortuantely, in the tallowlands we had so many moons and they follow such a variety of bizarre paths that it it nigh on impossible to know which one, if any, the particular grot clan you have encountered was following. Indeed, some of the most zealous, or possibly daftest, moon clans chase them all! night after night they race back and forth, zigging and zagging across the Tallowlands, and sometimes spiralling if there are several moons waxing in conjunction. 
So, what we know about the Tallowland Grots in reference to post Goretide navigation and attainment of bearings is... that they are utterly useless!"

As the memory of the lesson finished playing back in his mind Hjorvard sighed and slumped despondently, alone on his rock.  



The Religions and Deities of the Tallowlands


The Tallowlands is very poorly connected to the other realms and is often overlooked having limited value or resources by by the main alliance forces be they benevolent or evil.

As a result or perhaps for other reasons, a pantheon of gods, religions and deities have sprung up bearing little resemblance to their original patrons but in many cases either transparently or with more obscure connections.

Some exceptions remain. Sigmar and Alarielle (some aelves have long memories) are recognised and worshipped but on the whole many connections are tenuous. Although that may be the case this does produce some oddities, like some cults which cannot quite be given a label of order or chaos because they seems to act in different ways in different circumstances given their connection to a deity they believe does not fully parcel itself into one alliance or another.

The below is a list of deities with some sort of worship in the Tallowlands. There are sometimes many cults and groups and temples which follow a single one of these some of which bicker or fight even with each other. There are too many to list here.

Examples include the Watcher of the Ninefold Pact which pay homage to or believe they control Jethelech and the Celestial Pact which claim to worship Fyrek

Currently Known Deities

Sigmar - the God King

Artha god of the high places.

Dairayon god of wind and storms.

Vishkene god of magic.

Mortaine god of the dead. The Crypt Haunter. Some see Mortaine as a facet or connected in some way to Nagash.

Khând a god from across the ocean.

Rorralarachgod of rage and war. Is there a connection to Khorne here?

Myrakos beast-god of the wilderness. There are Orruk tribes who claim to worship Myrakos, some people think their tribe has a speech impediment.

Tidh the Swift Hunter. God of the plains.

Hain’Amurthe Great Defender. Steward of Heaven’s Keep. The Armoured God. The Stormcasts of Heavens Keep do not see anything wrong with this homage, do they worship two gods or believe him to be a facet of Sigmar?

Jethelech god of trickery and scheming. Definitely no connection to Tzeentch here. Shut up I said definitely not.

Ystara god of mariners and fishermen.

Mithrest god of merchants and traders.

Fyrek the Astral Voyager. Benefactor of astronomers.

Caer-Nadhg god of the woods. The Oaken Man. A summer god.

Alarielle as above but for eleves and half elves. Facets of the same god.

Lystan god of justice and fairness.

Shala - god of fertility and harvest

Shalu - twin god of Shala, god of decay, disease and rebirth. Some speculate a connection to Nurgle.

Naethethe Shroud of Night. God of veiled intentions.

Ilùgod of the sun. Brother of Lisù. Some Lizardmen tribes venerate.

Lisùgod of the moon. Sister of Ilù.

Gnos - god of secrets, including secret pleasures but also according to some hidden altruism.

Eyes of the Five?

Eyes of the Nine and AOS

And so wearily Nathaniel began his journey North.  Although the council never implicated him for anything wrong they had their suspicions and he couldn't risk continuing to base his now hampered operations in Alba Mesa.  And so he trekked North, past the Tolerance of Crows and into Chrysalis, the haven in the Charred Lands that he would make.  He was soon joined by his band of misfits and the retained services of a Gaunt Summoner.  

Binding those small ones was beneath him, he would leave it to the Summoner, he needed all of his focus on his big project and on carefully assembled contracts and bindings with the clever ones.

I really like the idea of a Tzeentch force in AOS, it appeals to my sense of efficiency as the PCRC tend to vary in enthusiasm between 40k and everything else so I reckon this significantly increases the probability of playing my army in whatever system they are excited by.

Eyes of the Nine* increases that efficiency further as it will play in AOS Tzeentch and Warhammer Underworld (Shadespire) which means my one army now covers three different systems.

*Are 4/5 of them missing?

The Ghouls of Hollow Mountain

"It's understandable that you'd wish to know more of the Ghouls of Hollow Mountain. I've heard it said they were once men of the Sinian Empire, fallen to grief and insanity amongst the ruins of their benighted nation. Others tell that they are scions of the ancient Morgaunt courts and that they have been unhinged since madness was new. Still others say they are but monsters from far Nygorach, and monsters need no explanation.
But none of that truly matters. There are only three things you need to know about the Ghouls of Hollow Mountain; their countenance is terrifying, their hunger is insatiable, and they'll be at the town walls within the hour."
 - Herwig Stocker, delicious resident of Steepacre

This blog post marks an important milestone for my Flesh Eater Court of Hollow Mountain; I've finished the bulk of my infantry for my initial force. That's a total of 30 Ghouls and 3 Crypt Horrors. I'm sure I'll add more of both over the coming months, but I have at least reached a good starting point.

I deliberated for a very long time over what skin tones to use for this force. In the end I had a flash of inspiration and went for a blue-grey coupled with dirty white hair. This drew heavy influence from the Morlocks, as seen in the 1960 film version of H.G. Wells' 'The Time Machine'. I used to find this film and these creatures both fascinating and terrifying as a child, so it seemed like a good choice.

This force is my first proper adventure with Citadel Contrast paints and I must say that I'm very impressed! It made everything so quick to paint! The skin was simply Contrast Space Wolves Grey over a Grey Seer spray undercoat, with a little bit of Fenrisian Grey to do the very prominent highlights on the Crypt Horrors. The hair was Contrast Apothecary White with Corax White as a highlight. The bones were achieved with a single coat of Contrast Skeleton Horde.

With the basing I've gone for the same "underground" effect as on my Uncharnel. I also spent a lot of time thinking about what plants - if any - would go on the bases. In the end I settled for a mixture of light pink and violet moss (from Green Stuff World) to give the impression of strange underground cave plants eking out an existence in a lightless subterranean world.

That's it for today. More Flesh Eater Courts and Night Haunt to come again from me in the near future.

The Watchers of the Ninefold Pact

The Watchers of the Ninefold Pact

Within the South Eastern Borders of the charred lands is a region called Chrysalis.  In this region is many things that normal regions contain, towns, castles, wildlife and some day to day life.  None of it should be there though because this region is in the Charred Lands.

At the magical center of this region is a tower, whose exact location seems to change from time to time.  This glimmering tower and its surrounding land appear as a beautiful place surrounded by a verdant garden and a town.  It is the home of the watchers of the Nine fold pact*, a sect of Jethelech whose followers truly believe that they are draining him of power.  Their goal is to push back and reclaim the charred lands from the taint of death.

Is Chrysalis easy to access?  Some who seek to find it never do despite its location on the border.  Others, perhaps by intent, find it easily, almost accidently as it is possible to get to it somehow without seemingly crossing the Tolerance of Crows.  It is said to be a beautiful and seductive place and even a reasonable place to do business.

The Watchers are led by the enigmatic Nathaniel Hultz, a man who rejected the shackles and strictures of the governing wizards of Alba Mesa and some say from the celestial council itself.  A man who believes himself to be the saviour of the Charred Lands.  A man for whom the ends justify the means.

If you are unlucky enough to go looking for trouble here you might run into Shanduko, a Lord of Change who appears in many forms (battle form below).  He fights only as a last resort, he will first give you an offer that you cannot refuse.  Shankduko seems to be bound to Hultz although it is not known whether this is by force or through a deal.

*Rumour has it that the Sigmarian cult of the Celestial pact is somehow linked to them although no evidence has emerged that was not circumstantial.

Alternate Tallowlands Maps

Alternate Tallowlands Maps

I have really been enjoying playing around with the mapping software the PCRC used to create the Tallowlands and I thought I would have a go at creating a few alternate Tallowlands maps.  Specifically a political map and an Underland map.  We do not want to exclude our skaven and goblin players (and anyone else who uses the underland) after all!

Inkarnate remains pretty easy to use although by using at such a high scale we are pushing it a bit.  I decided therefore to do the underland map in a bit more of a stylish rather than realistic mode.  As with everything it exists as a first draft. hopefully members of the PCRC will amend it or get me to amend it over time as we develop the Tallowlands further and we have our battles and roleplaying adventures.

Drawing the political map illustrated to me how big and empty the Tallowlands was at the moment.  I cant decide if that's a good thing or if it would be good to fill it up a bit more over time

Underworld Map

Political Map

Map Making -The Tallowlands

Map Making -The Tallowlands

I will get straight to the point.

The PCRC wanted to make a cool map of the Tallowlands.  As none of us are professional digital artists we went looking for a map tool and we think we found a good one:

They have a big presence on social media where lots of really nice looking maps get shown off

There are a fair number of decent training videos and reviews on Inkarnate.  Here is one if you are just getting started:

The official tutorials are here:

I found it easy to use although we have a long way to go before we produce anything really nice looking.

In the meantime I will continue using it for Tallowlands work and I am sure it will get more interesting over time as we expand the content of our area of the realms.

We have built the map up from this:

into this:

The Adventures of Nathaniel Hultz: Part IX

The Ends Justify the Means

The battle had not gone well. To see a force of chaos this large so far South of the Charred Lands was unexpected - they may be here for a purpose.  Were we their purpose?  Or had we been opportunistically attacked?

The 'Emperor Karl Franz'*, the Cosmic Smite was badly damaged, lying on its side, on top of one of its mechanical horses.  The Lord of Change that had attacked them lay dead, finally dismembered by Holgars axe, Holgar, injured lying close by.  The rest of the battle continued to rage with the sounds of the copper cavalry clashing with distant horrors in and among the smoke of battle.

I had just finished despatching one of the bird mutants that had somehow got onto the carriage when suddenly from out of the smoke came another Lord of Change and I realised that I had run out of options.  It changed direction and came towards us, staff raised it started casting a spell.  I had about 30 seconds to turn the tide of battle.  Time for Plan B, a plan I had never intended on using.

I wiped the blood off my hands and then I wrenched globes off of the 'Cosmic Smite' until there were 9 left and then I stood in the middle, pulled out my tattered copy of the Doctrines of the Purple Hand' and said those 9 unholy words which caused the greater daemon to freeze.  I then uttered the 9 commanding words in the common tongue: 'Stop.  Go home, stay there until I summon you'.  The Jethelech Daemon melted away and I could feel the tide of battle turning, I was fizzing with blue and purple magic.

'What have you done...'.  coughed Holgar, spitting up blood.

Oh no, Holgar was conscious, he had seen it.  What was I to do?  'Holgar, old friend, I had no choice, please forgive me'.  '

'You always have a choice Nathaniel'.  Holgar coughed again. 'A noble death is better than this, remember whose side you are on'.

'I am truly sorry Holgar'

'If you are sorry then you will confess to the council as soon as we get back, there may be a way back'

'I can control it Holgar, I saved us, doesn't that matter?'

'Give me the book Nathaniel'

It was then that I made my fateful decision.  It wasn't meant to be this way, I was a force for good and giving this up now would not help anyone. It would not help my people or the Tallowlands.

'Give me the book Nathaniel'

I picked up one of the dismembered talons from the dead Lord of change and walked over to Holgar, I pulled him close to me and I wept as I plunged the talon into the wound in Holgars back, cradling him as he died, a look of shock and terror on his face.  I knew that his principles would trump our friendship and it could be no other way.  I would have to deal with the guilt later.

When the others arrived I explained what had happened.  Holgar had valiantly given his life and killed the Lord of Change, turning the tide of battle, Holgar would be a hero, celebrated in song.

That night and the next 8 nights I dreamed of nothing but the laughter and cackling of daemons.  The others would never know of the sacrifices I had to make to keep them safe but my plan would proceed unabated.  There was a way of cleansing at least a part of the Charred Lands and I would be its master.

*Some people mistakenly call this a Hurricanum but what do they know, Sigmar told us what it was called centuries ago and we definitely accurately recorded what he said.

Profile: The Unslumbering

For over three hundred years the folk of south-western Rhô have told legends of a lizard-warrior who stalks the land ceaselessly, never sleeping, searching for something hidden or lost in ages past. Some claim that it has appeared suddenly to aid them against bandit attacks on journeys through remote places. Others swear that it can be seen skulking around unremarkable hillside caves and inland gorges.

Records show that these stories began at the same time that a lizard-noble from a distant land arrived in Rhô. Its purpose was never revealed, but it carried many titles and honorifics - Watcher of the Sun and Moon, Star-sentinel and Unslumbering One to name but a few. When - or even if - it ever left Rhô is unknown.

To those in its homeland, it is known as Sleepless Insi'atl.

Regions of the Dar'Koath Highlands: Wō

Situated in the central Highlands, between the lands of the Connaghi and the Jarlings, Wō is a small, densely-wooded and unpopulated region. Deep in the heart of this place is a tree, ancient beyond reckoning and imbued with a terrible and mysterious power. Possibly it is home to an elder fey, or maybe it contains a trapped daemon - in any case, aspiring champions of the Dar'Koath clans will undertake the perilous voyage to the tree in order to seek the blessings of the Wild Gods.

Occasionally, a clan will earn the favour of the greater powers and a host of wild beings will march from the forest's boughs to aid the clan in warfare. This is heralded by a mighty storm which blows leaves of magical and unnatural colours across the lands. These are known to the clans as the Tears of Wō.

The Tree of Wō