Locations of the Tallowlands: Three Bridges

Formerly a southern town in the Sinian Empire, Three Bridges is now one of the northernmost settlements within the Tolerance of Crows. Its strategically useful position on a junction in the river Tarr meant that it has always been a significant trading post; with the coming of the Ghoul War it became a key bastion of resistance, and in the years subsequent it has begun to have use as a stable entry point to the Charred Lands for adventurers and treasure-seekers. While historically a human settlement, in common with all places of commerce the people of Three Bridges are used to seeing, and tolerant of, many other races.

Three Bridges has for the most part had a peaceful existence. Prior to the Ghoul War its only significant time of strife was a brief period of apostasy precipitated by Hanvard the Confectioner releasing the Everlasting Godstoppers from his gingerbread laboratory. All known copies of the recipe are believed to have been destroyed in the subsequent purge.

During the Ghoul War, Three Bridges was briefly overrun and abandoned before being reclaimed by an allied force of humans from the surrounding regions and dwarfs from further west. Thanks to the foresight of the then-Meister Turnagain Harrowfoot, the town's population had been evacuated to safety and many of the original inhabitants were able to return and repopulate the town.

The town sits across all three branches of the river - hence the name Three Bridges - and as a consequence connects the lands on all sides of the river. The northeastern third of the town was sacked during the war and remains mostly ruined, while the northwestern and southern thirds are effectively fully habitable. 

One outcome of the Ghoul War was that the Sinian Empire's southmost provinces - which today border the Tolerance - became either assimilated into existing foreign kingdoms or were claimed by refugees and petty warlords as independent realms. The lands of three such factions reach as far as Three Bridges, namely House Makazor, the Orderly Brotherhood of the Reclamation, and the Unbegotten Conclave. Were times more secure it is certain that lordship over Three Bridges would be the subject of extensive and probably violent dispute between these three factions. However, the precariousness of the entire region has forced all three into a compromise accord, whereby commitments have been given from all parties to not attack the town, which is left to operate independently. The Meister of the town is expected to provide a militia for the town's security - incursions by horrors from the north are a regular feature of life so close to the Charred Lands - and is bound by strict agreements to show no favour to any one of the town's neighbours. Truly equal treatment is in reality an impossible task and while it is unlikely that any of the bordering regions will overtly attempt to take over the town, there is a constant shadow war for influence. The current Meister is Reijard v'Embersburg.

The town is located near a major entrance to the Underland. Sitting high up in the Eagle's Claw Mountains (which become the Greyspire Mountains in the east), this entry point used to be controlled by goblin tribes. However, the Ghoul War devastated underlands and overlands alike and the goblins were driven out of the area. In recent times, along with wandering terrors, Skaven have started to infiltrate the locality and have found their way south to the town. The local branch of the Ratcatcher's Guild, as always closely aligned with the town's sewer engineers and a small group of dwarf miners who have remained in the town as part of a treaty, has to date been very successful in preventing the Skaven from being any more than a nuisance. It is, though, a matter of growing concern that Skaven activity appears to be increasing. Latterly, the underground workers have reported hearing strange sounds from deep below the sewers, though rumours that goblins - vastly preferable to the Skaven - have returned to the area are as yet unsubstantiated.

Closer still to the town is the Bleakwood, a dense forest which has always been a source of local fear and legend. In the days of the Sinian Empire it was merely a geographical bogeyman, mostly left alone by the townspeople and used as a source of tales to encourage small children to behave. Since the Ghoul War, adventurers who have escaped alive from the Charred Lands as well as townspeople who have had reason to travel within sight of the forest have brought back stories of disturbing creatures seen moving within the trees. It has not gone unnoticed that the forest was not killed off by the dark forces which powered the war and this fact has discouraged many from venturing near the place.

Another nearby place of note is Steepacre, which has for many years been something of a competitor to Three Bridges as it sits on the only truly reliable pass through the Eagle's Claw Mountains. Whilst its location high in the mountains undoubtedly saved Steepacre from the worst of the war's ravages, it seems that the surrounding desolation has hurt the town even more than it did Three Bridges.

Next to Steepacre is Hollow Mountain, home to the Ghoul King. There has been some confusion over whether the Ghoul King was responsible for the Ghoul War, but most reputable scholars agree that he had no involvement and was just as threatened by the tide of destruction has anyone else. However, bizarre and unnatural occurrences have been noted around Hollow Mountain of late, and one must inevitably conclude that the King has once again risen. His motivations are currently unknown. 

North of the Eagle's Claw Mountains lie the ruins of Borhalphiston, formerly a regional capital within the Sinian Empire. Known for its vast library and its graveyard district (the Valley of Inverse Pyramids), it is a magnet for adventurers although virtually none who venture there have ever returned.

Just beyond the Bleakwood, on a plateau in the mountains, sits Castell Davarill. Its origins are now unknown, as is the reason for it having been built in such a fiendishly inaccessible location - there is no indication of any adjacent settlement ever having been present - but stories remain of it possessing an enchanted rose garden of unearthly beauty. The castle was abandoned for many centuries, but it is known that at an unspecified point a secretive community of elves has taken up residency there. Their nature and purposes can only be guessed at. The fact that the castle itself is certainly not of elvish origin while elves as a rule do not care for other races' dwellings only adds to the mystery.

A number of notable groups or individuals have passed the town's orbit within living memory. These include:

- King Ormisruin and his knights from the fallen nation of Hilgoth passed the town in their search for a new home. Having made camp in fields to the town's south, the sad sight of the worn and faded banners moved many townsfolk to donate food and other supplies to the king's followers before they departed. The townspeoples' unexpected kindness is unlikely to have been forgotten by the sons of Ormisruin.

- Nathaniel Hultz has been sighted multiple times. It is believed that his plans to establish a colony within the Charred Lands may have come to fruition, although murmurs have begun to emerge that he has returned to the area seeking to recover an artefact which he was previously forced to abandon. 

- Father Torpal is known to be active in the area seeking converts to the worship of Rorralarach. 

Getting the band together

The band made history when they became the first non-Orcs to perform at the Waaaghken festival

It is all but guaranteed that any civilised settlement will possess within its boundaries at least one tavern, hostel or other such communal centre. These are places for locals and travellers to gather, drink and, of course, sing.

Many inns will allow - encourage, even - skilled bards and minstrels to entertain the patrons. Happy customers spend more freely and if the musician is even halfway competent then the least they can expect in return is food and lodgings for the night.

Of course, in an age in which news travels swiftly only for those with coin to tempt it, most folk rely on the accumulated knowledge of history to guide their decisions and give them hope in lean times. The "oral tradition" scholars call it, but this diminishes the spiritual depth of joining one's voice to a choir which stretches back generations and keeps fresh the wisdom earned by those who are long since departed.

On occasion, talented individuals will group together in performing troupes, roaming the lands seeking fame and, more than this, fortune.

Such a band emerged from the foothills of Jeldenburg and has since proven worthy of a mention in the chronicles of the Tallowlands...

 Founding members

Anbeth Willowbrook

A daughter of the Oakleafen, Willowbrook is an accompanist par excellence. Had she been born to human or dwarfen parents her talents would almost certainly have been lauded and nurtured. However, the wood elves are a more self-centred folk and respect only the virtuoso and the soloist. Therefore her sympathetic and collective approach was sneered at and considered somewhat inferior.

After a time, Willowbrook came to realise that she would never find musical fulfillment within the boughs of Oakhall and undertook to depart the forest, never to return until her music was considered fit for the halls of lords and nobles.

This happened within a week.

After leaving Oakhall, she travelled west towards Jeldenburg. On her first night in human lands she arrived at the town of Yuldpass where, purely by chance, she met Horst vander Jeld, royal minstrel to the Demiprince Arnhuus. He invited her to join him in performing at the tavern that evening; after the opening, unrehearsed song he insisted that she perform with his troupe at the palace the following evening.

Despite being a little suspicious she agreed and was stunned to discover how highly humans valued her skill at weaving rhythms for the other musicians to work with. She remained in residence at the palace for a number of weeks - unsure of whether she could really return return to Oakhall so soon, or if she even wanted to - until one day she met Helen Highwater and chose to join her in the wandering life.

It is unclear whether Anbeth is her true name or a pseudonym to help her avoid the stigma of association with the belligerent Oakleafen when in human lands.

 

Helen Highwater

A gnome from the near East, Highwater travelled the Jeldenburg circuit for some time before her meeting with Anbeth Willowbrook. Despite her stature she has a strong and charming voice which, coupled with her easy humour and excellent sense of timing, makes her an ideal frontwoman for the band.

She is not the most capable lyrist, but in truth she plays it only to help her stay in tune when the crowd gets rowdy.

 Tomlin Picc

Picc was only supposed to be passing through Jeldenburg when he heard that Willowbrook and Highwater were looking for musicians to join their group. He had seen Highwater performing two nights previously and been impressed, so sought them out.

 

His playstyle is heavier than the classical tradition would dictate, partly as a result of spending considerable time playing with a dwarfen troupe from the hold of Kanderbad - in order to keep up with the horns he learned to modulate his own volume and use the echoes inherent in dwarfhall acoustics to boost his sound when playing melody.

 

It is a point of some interest that he is one of the few humans to have had his playing recorded. Recording music, as everyone knows, requires vast magical resources (not only for the recording, but also the listening) and in practice is available only to a few extremely wealthy dwarfs.  During his time in Kanderbad he worked on a few sessions for the legendary Pol Makka when he was recording the groundbreaking Band on the Rune.

 

 

 

 

 Rei Barleysheaf

Last of the founding members to join, Barleysheaf was heard by Willowbrook playing flute while she waited for a stagecoach out of town. Her ethereal manner of playing provides a new dimension for the band and allows them to explore some less boisterous musical avenues.

Joining the band represented a significant upturn in her professional fortunes - the stagecoach she was waiting for was to take her home, having run out of money. This was partly due to her having adopted the stage name Rei Gunne, which left audiences and critics baffled. Since joining the band, however, she has flourished and her distinctive manner of playing is now recognisable across the lands.

Inexplicably popular with male crowds.

 

Later members

 

Rhuston Va

An ex-rogue, his thieving days came to an abrupt halt when he was struck by a runaway cart while crossing the road ("I used to be an adventurer, but then I took a barrow to the knee"). In need of alternative work, he discovered that dextrous fingers were well employed in playing the mandolin.

Confident by nature, he is an excellent sidekick to the egregious Helen Highwater and a well-matched foil for the more understated Anbeth Willowbrook.

His signature style is to play using the neck of a glass bottle or an appropriately-sized bone from a vanquished foe (or, more likely, last night's chicken dinner). This is a technique he first encountered during the band's brief but eventful stay with Clan Morris.

As an aside, this model was an early attempt at using the grisaille method of painting.

The Celestial Navigation of the Tallowlands

In common with many pocket planes, the Tallowlands are not bound to a particular realm. Occupying, as it does, a fold in realmspace, the world drifts on the ether-currents in the vast sky-ocean between the realms.

It is unknown how the world came to exist detached from the Great Spheres, but travellers through the realmgates occasionally bring rumours of other such worlds floating in their own autonomous pouch of existence.

Scholars have devoted years - lifetimes, even - of study to codifying the exact nature of the world's relationship with the surrounding cosmos. The most widely-accepted theory was first proposed by the great cosmochronologician von Marrison in his seminal treatise Astralle Weekes:

"That the realms are mighty cannot be questioned. But none sits so far above the rest that it can capture this world of ours for its own. Instead we travel an infinite circuit between the realms, sharing in the powers of each as we pass near.

Seasons hinge on our proximity and facing; indeed, as one side of the world turns away from a realm, another side shows itself to the sphere. Thus, as we face, say, Ghyran, do our forests bloom and our orchards blossom. Then, as our attention turns to Hysh we find our days stretch on in unbroken hours."

In short, it appears that the world's position between the realms directly causes its seasons and climates. This idea was expanded by the lizardman philosopher Tinkenhat in his sandstone carvings - now fully eroded but quoted at length by de Robilant in his Histories: 

"To us they seem so near as to be moons yet to them we are but a distant speck, a tiny fly in a barrel of ointment*"

The notion that the moons of the Tallowlands are in fact other realms is intriguing and explains why the normally-inert realmgates thrum with vitality when particular moons are in the ascendency and the magical forces fluctuate with the lunar tides.

As a side note, a small handful of goblin tribes are known to chase the various moons across the Tallowlands in the belief that, were they to catch one of them, they would achieve immeasurable power. This theory does suggest that these excessively insane greenskins are, rather disconcertingly, right.

*This last metaphor is likely de Robilant's own addition - flies in Tinkenhat's home jungle are rarely less than fist-sized, and lizardmen have no known concept of ointment.

The Religions and Deities of the Tallowlands

Introduction

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.

Rorralarach – god 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’Amur – the 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.  The number of letters in the name is a coincidence.

Arengee – god of luck and master of games, cursed and blessed in equal measure. Causer of lighter and less corrupt mischief than Jethelech

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.

Naethe – the Shroud of Night and least trusted of the moons of the Tallowlans. God of veiled intentions. Sometimes called Mother night.

Ilù – god of the sun. Brother of Lisù. Some Lizardmen tribes venerate. Sometimes called Morning Lord.

Lisù – god of the one of the Tallowlands briughter moons. 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?

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:

https://inkarnate.com/

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:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ww2TtTrvuLk

The official tutorials are here:

https://inkarnate.com/updates/

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 Emperor's Lost Mines - Introduction

The Emperor's Lost Mines - Introduction

Many centuries ago, when the age of Chaos was ended by Sigmar's intervention, the races of the Tallowlands, many of them simple ordinary folk, rose and took arms against the forces of Chaos.  They joined with Sigmar's Stormcast Eternals to retake their lands in the name of order*

They needed to start equipping armies and anyone willing to fight..  In the southern realms of the Tallowlands, they found what they needed.  Rare ore from the hills and mountains and the purest coals and fuels for which to make a Forge - the forge of spells.  It was from here that the finest weapons and armour would be made, both magical and non-magical to equip the forces of Order as they pushed back against the forces of chaos at the start of the Age of Sigmar.  

One of Lucifer216's beautifully painted Stormcast Eternals

It was a time of unity, a time of peace — but it could not last.  Soon the Sinian Empire formed in the North and the races of men, dawi and aelves faded back into their fiefs and squabbles.  They had pushed chaos almost fully out of the Tallowlands and they wanted to enjoy the peace.

The Mine though, and the Forge of Spells, was not forgotten.  The area became first an outpost of the Sinian Empire and later a vassal Fief ruled from Krag-maw Castle, all the while supplying now a small but still significant number of magical weapons to the heroes and generals of the Sinian Empire.  Some of these would be locked in vaults but many of these were put to active use in defending the Sinian Empire from threats both internal and external.

Eventually, complacency set in.  The mine itself was overcome.  There are conflicting reports.  Some say it was a local Necromancer, yet other a beastman raiding party. Perhaps they both raided it.  The result was inescapable.  The mine was looted and its glory and even its very location were lost.  The Sinian Empire was too busy with internal problems to try and recover its remote outpost and its location was lost to time.

*Although behind closed doors this was a simple desire to be freed of slavery and tithe brought by the complacent and ancient forces of Chaos.

The Red Moon

The Red Moon Rises: part 1

He deflected her attack and struck back. She turned it aside with her blade and shot past him...she smelt amazing...Pain erupted as Tova struck his elbow, ribs, and nape of neck with her "knives". She was quick!
"Point to me!" she smirked.
Hjorvard felt his face redden as they reset, he had to blot out the distractions! They were training, this was important, lose focus and it could cost you everything!
He longed to wield an axe, but more exotic weapons were scarce so you had to prove yourself as a warrior to earn the right to wield them. 
Training had been tough, but it felt good. Strength and skill had vastly improved since they'd started, but it was all coming together. Honing their fighting skills to instinctive reactions had taken a lot of work over years but they were almost there. 
The orange sky said the gentle gaze and protection of Lady Lisu was waning. They needed to be ready, the time was almost upon them. 

It was unusual sleeping in until mid morning, but tonight was going to be exhausting. Hjorvard still ached from yesterday's training, bruises were starting to show, but he did his morning stretches and went to help prepare the food.
As Father cut the meat he looked across the table. 
"When I came of age it was a time of mixed emotions." he announced "You know the words, you've seen the rites, you understand what is expected... get through the ritual. yes, its in front of everyone you know, but its just a ceremony. Its tonight you have to prove you are worthy. its tonight and every night the blood moon shines that we are all counting on you to do your part."
he went quiet and seemed to finish, then he caught his wife's gaze across the table.
"...but don't worry" he continued "your mother and I will be with you. now lets eat, then its off to the temple."

Father Torpal's sermon went on for quite a while. the theme was duty, loyalty, remembering your roots, and doing your part. It was just the two of them coming of age this season, and the eyes of the whole village were on them as they knelt at the altar, observed the rites, and the blessing was performed. It was nerve wracking, but the blessing was to give them strength for what lay ahead. 

Hjorvard stood outside the temple gazing at the horizon. No trace of Yellow, The Lady Lisu was gone from the sky, and it was clear. Was that a touch of red on the horizon? his stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation. 
The punch to his arm snapped him out of the daydream. "well, you didn't mess it up!" Tova said with a look of mock surprise. 
"you didn't either," he replied 'can't you think of something better to say?' he thought, he could have kicked himself! "Rorralarach will rise soon."he said
"it will" she nodded.
they gazed out at the hills on the horizon. She held his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. He froze and felt his face redden. The nervous butterflies in his stomach had turned into a bag of fighting ferrets...and one of them had escaped and was heading elsewhere!
"are you ready" he asked
"Almost" she replied
"what do you mean?" 
still holding his hand she stepped round to face him, gazed into his eyes for a moment, then kissed him. He paused, startled, then kissed back. he'd been imagining it for weeks, but it was better than that. Amazing! 
They parted. 
"what was that for?" he asked. 
she looked sheepish, then a little melancholic "just in case..."
The Bell rang.
They started, and looked towards the hills. a line of red had appeared on the horizon. 
"Its our first duty to make sure the children are safe in the temple vault." she said.       
he nodded "crazy to think we don't have to spend another night down there ever again!"

The vault was secure, The gate was barred and they stood with all the adults of the village by the wooden palisade that marked its edge. The sky was mauve above, fading through to magenta, and the red moon was visible above the horizon.              
"I can see them!" someone shouted
"steady yourself! his father flexed his brawny shoulders, "breathe and remember your training" he growled. 
"we'll see you in the morning, dear."  his mother said to reassure him. 
They could hear the noise of movement carried by the wind.
oh gods! he could see them! men, beastmen, other things? there were a LOT! and they looked crazed! He could feel the blood pumping in his veins, his heart thumping in his chest. he shuddered, he felt sick. fear? elation? nerves. His hand trembled so he gripped his knives tighter. They were almost here! He could see fifty..no a hundred... no, more! He lost count. Stopped trying to count. The terror, excitement, and anticipation mingled into one. 
They were two hundred yards away, and running. he glanced left, then right, seeing tensed warriors, steely determination, and set fighting stances. 
At a hundred and fifty yards, he felt his knee tremble and his stomach lurch. but he controlled it. 'remember your training' he growled at himself. 
a hundred yards. 
He could feel the ground pounding, and smell the approaching horde. Heart pounding, nerves singing, he tensed... then relaxed.           
he glanced above at the moon, so big, so red, a moment of calm. 
Then the Red orb of Rorralarach glared back, deep into his soul! he felt its power course through him. 
The last thing he remembered was roaring "Blood...!" as the frenzy took hold and he joined the harvest. 

Charting the Nogthrong

Of Kazad Nogthrong, City-state of the Gorm Range Dawi 

Eorlcyng Nialon the Disapproving, and Snorri Spilaf, Thegn of Nog

Deep in the Gorm Ranges – known to the dwarfs as Migdahlgorm – sits the great city-state of Kazad Nogthrong. This is the ancestral seat of the Dawi Cyng Nog, to whom most of the western dwarfs of Rhô pay allegiance. 

The greatest, though not the highest, peak is threaded through with the Seat of First; a mighty fortress occupied by the first dwarfish settlers of the region long ago in the Age of Myth. The tale of the construction of the first keep – now the core of a sprawling fortified complex – is written, on an entire panel of the great Avenue of Stone that runs to the throneroom. 

Thereon is carved the Fourth Feat of Nog, a tale in which the Cyng-before-all managed to bribe the gods themselves to assist in constructing his fortress. Over the course of three moons, he used his great cunning and craftsmanship to sow seeds of jealousy amongst the gods; gifting first one, then the next with ever more wondrous dawi-made armaments, ornaments and trinkets. 

Through the demonstration of each, Nog tricked the gods into carving and shaping the mountain into a sky-scraping hold fit for the deities themselves – and then, once it was complete, used the last gift to shrink it to a size fit only for the dawi-folk. The rage and anger of the gods were unleashed upon the fortress, and the deities battered themselves against the impregnable fortress they themselves had created. At last, anger turned to exhaustion, then amusement, and at last respect for the cunning of Nog.

It is written that this is not myth, but history; and the dawi have sought the treasures of Nog ever since the elves displaced the gods. 

***

The Seat of First broods at the northern tip of the Great Scar, a massive canyon torn through the mountain range by some long-forgotten firce. The fortress stands tall, but its roots descend many fathoms, running down the whole depth of the Scar itself, and back into the mountains. The fortress is thus far taller than it is broad, and is home to many thousands of dawi-folk who make a living from mining the ore and precious minerals revealed by the scar.

Nogthrong is built along a great scar that runs through the Gorm Ranges.

Along the rest of the scar are dotted watchposts, thrall-villages and mountain towns, where dwarven merchants, craftsmen and farmers make their living. The outermost are open to other folk who come to trade or seek an audience with the Cyng. Over the centuries different Cyngs have stamped their identity on the region; some fond of visiting elven bards and human merchants, others jealously inward-looking who closed the whole kingdom to non-dawi. It remains to be seen how the recently crowned Cyng will treat his people, and those beyond. Those who have met him speak of a flint-eyed and hard-voiced dwarf, a Cyng like those of old.

***

Allies of Nogthrong

To the north of the Grom Ranges lie the Middle Kingdoms. This region was historically home to dwarfs, men, elves and other civilised peoples, though today the remaining towns and villages are fortified against the roaming hordes of greenskins, nomadic beastmen and similar villains.

Travelling further north will reveal the imposing silhouette of the Dar'Koath Highlands, a still harder and more bitter mountain range than the imposing Gorm Ranges. In this bleak region are warring barbaric tribes of orcs, humans, and stranger things besides. On the Easternmost peak stands Durak Undi, an outpost and remnant of a once-great dawi kingdom, long since fallen to ruin. None today remember the fall of the kingdom, but it was said by the wise and learned to have been a lesson sorely forgotten – for the fall of the dwarfs here proved to be a foretelling of the fate of the Sinian Empire.

Annotated map of the Dwarfs of Migdahlgorm and the surroundings

Eorlcyng Nialon, living in exile in Kazad Nogthrong, believes his line to be the last scions of the lost dawi kingdom. He has petitioned the new Cyng to lead an expedition to Durak Undi, there to discover whether dwarf-folk remain, and to resettle the lands of his ancestors. The distance is great, and a host of rare power must be drawn up to ensure such an expedition's success; so it remains to be seen whether the new Cyng of Nog will grant his request...

***

The peace and quiet of painting usually allows my mind to wander a bit, and I tend to find it a good time for developing a bit of back story for the figures I'm working on. I wanted to make sure that the Nogthrong (my army) had a place in the Tallowlands, but not to make it so isolated that there's not really any reason to fight battles. After all, Warhammer Fantasy Trade Negotiation doesn't have quite the same ring, nor need of chainmail-clad warriors.

With that in mind, I decided that Kazad Nogthrong would be my dwarf's 'main base'; a combination of surface stronghold, underground city and a surrounding area of farms, orchards and similar above-ground necessities. Located in the range of mountains between the cities of Jeldenburg and Eo, this is a fairly central location.

Dwarfs from the World That Was (the Old World of older editions of Warhammer) have a very fixed background. While that was wonderfully rich, I want to have some freedom to develop away from it. so the Nogthrong will – hopefully – have a mix of familiar and innovative concepts.

One of these is the concept of thrall settlements. Not all dwarfs in the Tallowlands live huddled in keeps or underground. Dwarf country includes thriving villages, towns and even cities that take care of things like growing barley for bread and beer, managing livestock and so forth. While some of these are wealthy enough to afford mercenaries to defend themselves, most owe allegiance to an eorlcyng – a sort of local independent chieftain that oversees an area of a few villages and a town or two. In turn, these eorlcyngs owe allegiance through a complex and ancient series of oaths to the Cyngs, the most powerful of all the dwarfs of the region.

Snorri Spilaf (right), is an example of a Thegn – an important rank in the court of Nog. He bears the Throng's banner.

In times of war, famine or plague, thrall settlements will look to the wealth and military strength of the eorlcyng; who in turn can turn to the Cyng himself to summon further aid. In return, the settlements pay a tithe to the eorlcyng, part of which is paid to the Cyng. Thus the dwarfs have a feudal system of mutual support.

Nialon (pictured above) is an example of one such Eorlcyng, who will be used as a Warden King in-game. This was one way I found to square the circle of having multiple Kings in an army – some are nominally independent (as suits a proud dwarf), but with a measure of subservience. Nialon doesn't have to support Cyng Nog, but he'll generally find he – or his descendants – benefit if he joins in.

***

So far, the Tallowlands only has one Cyng – that of Nogthrong, but I wanted to leave the concept open in case other Cyngs need to be created, or one of the PCRC decide they want to paint up some dwarfs. Might make for some nice mercenaries, for example – or even a whole new army. 

***

What the Knights Mortain won’t tell you

The Knights of Mortain ride out to do battle with the undead

"DOOMED, WE'RE ALL DOOMED!" the wild eyed thin haired priest of Mortain screamed at the top of his voice to a small crowd of fanatics and hecklers, "THE UNDEAD ROAM ONCE AGAIN, WE MUST DESTROY THEM! RISE UP CITIZENS, RISE! WHAT DOES YOUR LORD DO ABOUT THIS? NOTHING! RISE UP!".

Ordinarily, this crazy old man would have little effect on the population of this market town in this backwater province of the Sinian Empire, observed Leibach, this time however it was different, unrest was in the air. After the previous weeks theft of all the bodies in the local graveyard and the disappearance of old man Engel, (who was suspected of necromancy by the townsfolk), all that had changed. Now the mad preacher was taken seriously, donations to the temple of Mortain were up, knights were being trained and fanatics with no fear of death were being recruited and 'managed'. This normally busy, grubby agricultural town with its cautious unwelcoming population was rapidly becoming a hotbed of religious fanaticism and an armed uprising.

Leibach was used to people waiting for him, not the other way around and he hated his peasant farmer disguise. You were supposed to eat a pig, not smell like one. He was about to leave when he finally spotted his contact, a shifty looking halfling who beckoned him into the tradesman's entrance of a local tavern. He made his way into an upper room which looked over the square. It was a private room for his audience with the Duke and Lord of this town, a well dressed merchant type who was busy staring out the window, flanked by his half-ogre bodyguard. He was taller than Leibach, but then again most people were and that didn't bother him anymore.

"How can I serve his excellency this time?" grovelled the lord as he turned around knowing full well that Leibach had the power to recommend that he be removed from office and his lands taken from him.

"The Emperor is taking a keen interest in the events that are unfolding here", he stated, getting straight to the point, "religious fanatics, graveyard thefts, disappearances. Are you in control?"

"His majesty can be assured that everything is under control, I am aware of all that goes on in my town and soon his majesty can be assured of success here" whimpered the Lord of Ludamil.

There was a pause in the conversation as Leibach considered his next move. While he was thinking the sounds of a fight in the square started, and he could hear soldiers moving to quell a possible riot. He reached down abruptly into his tunic with his right hand.  The Lord tensed, expecting a weapon but instead was greeted with a large envelope, officially sealed from the royal court and handed it over. The envelope contained orders and a wax sealed credit slip redeemable for gold comets against the imperial treasury.

"Fortunately, the Emperor favours you for now, and you do seem capable of directing this rabble", he said, gesturing towards the window. "Have you taken steps to ensure none of this can be connected to the royal court?"

"Yes, of course!" he replied, "the men hired to remove the corpses from the graveyard were tragically ambushed by bandits, and old man Engels body will never be found. You can be assured that the Emperor will have his army under the banner of Mortain."

"And the people know nothing of the real threats? In Rasni? and further North in Nygorach?"

"Your excellency can be assured that only a few know of this and as for those of the army, the church of Mortain keeps its secrets well"

Leibach was satisfied and began to walk away slowly over the creaking floorboards and towards the wooden staircase that led out of this room. "Good, I will report what I have seen here today, but be assured, this is not the last of my visits, and failure is not an option for you, you have already had your second chance..."

The Adventures of Nathaniel Hultz: Prologue

A Mixed Start
"Stop running Frieg stop, You've got nowhere to run," Nathaniel yelled, as he levelled his crossbow at the old book seller huddled in the corner clutching a package wrapped in rags. "We know what you and the other are up to, we know what you've been trying to do in this city and the evil that you have been practicing, if you surrender now I will give you a quick death and commend your soul to Sigmar."

Dammit where was the rest of his party when he needed them? He could hear the distant sounds of battle, they were probably dealing with the other cultists.

"My Lord Jethelech foresaw this, he has a plan for you apprentice" the bookkeeper muttered, "now kill me!" he exclaimed and he sprung forward, unnaturally quickly and aggressively. Reflexively Nathaniel shot him. He crumpled up immediately and that was it, the book seller moved no more.

I've killed before, thought Nathaniel, but then why was he shaking so much? That bookkeeper had unnerved him, what had he muttered about him? What was he protecting that was worth dying for?

Nathaniel slowly picked up the package and started peeling the rags off. As the last layer fell off he stopped suddenly, and time itself seemed to slow down as he stared at the package. It was a book, a book that he had thought long lost when the veiled library of Eastpine Vale burned, a very ordinary looking book which in the common tongue was called "Doctrines of the Purple Hand". He had been thinking about this book for some time, this forbidden tome that promised a way to control rather than be controlled by dark magic. Up to now he had resisted all impulses to track it down, it was illegal, he had been warned against any contact with books of this nature.

What was he to do with it? He could hardly hand it in or he may be put on trial himself! He knew that this tome could change his life, within a short time he could become more powerful than his mentor, even more powerful than the great wizards of Mirror Keep, and yes he could control it, he would not succumb to the greedy ambitions that these cultists had fallen to, he would be different from them, more noble, he might even be able to use this power for good!

But no, it is chaos and he had been taught that all chaos power corrupts its user eventually, that your very soul is at stake, would he be able to protect his soul? Perhaps not. Oh what to do, and he had to decide quickly, the sound of battle had stopped and the others would be joining him shortly.

He made his decision.

His old alley instincts took over and he slipped the book under his cloak. He deferred. Maybe he would take a peak at the contents, after all just a small look wouldn't harm him and he could always get rid of it later…

His thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"Are you alive umgi?" cried Nathaniel's dwarf friend Holgar, covered in blood and grime screeching round the corner faster than any dwarf had any right to move, checking to see if he was intact, Nathaniel just stared back, he too was covered in the bookkeeper's blood. Holgar continued, "I think we got all of them, did you find what they were protecting?"

A brief pause, and then the answer from Nathaniel: 'No, No I didn't, maybe next time..."

***

Alba Mesa

Alba Mesa - a force for good?

I was bitten by the Tallowlands bug a few months ago when it came into my head to create a Cities of Sigmar 'Tempest Eye' force in a steampunk style.  As yet I lack any models at all to show off given the fact that the models I want to base it on have not been released for the most part and my family commitments.  I really dig the background the PCRC are coming up with though for the Tallowlands so I thought I can at least contribute some of that.

The plan is to convert these guys into pistoleers and outriders:

And convert up a Hurricanum using the same horses:

I will likely convert up a General on a Griffon as well.

The following background intentionally has things in common with Tempest Eye.  I hope it isn't too close and I would encourage the PCRC to tell me if they think it is verging on unoriginal, I liked the original background and wanted some way of transferring aspects of it to the Tallowlands.  Tempest Eye forces contain up to one quarter Stormcasts and one quarter Kharadron Overlords as well as traditionally relying on celestial magic.  Combining all those forces as allies will always give the same feel to almost any 'counts as' Tempest Eye background.

^^

***

What is Alba Mesa?  It is more than just the cavalry, which aided the Sinian Emperors when called upon*.  It is more than just a place or indeed a marvel of ancient and modern engineering.  It is more than just the capital of the Celestial College**.  It is one of the few places where wizards and scientists, dwarfs and humans, stormcasts and mortals mix in peace.  

Nestled high up in the Dawn mountains lies a metropolis entrenched into the mountains, a city of two sides; the Western side, dominated by the Kharadron Overlords in Barak Mhorna and the Eastern side, Alba Mesa.  Atop the glittering peaks stands three magnificent buildings:

• The capital of the Celestial college, which has an observatory that you can see from many miles away.  Celestial magic in Rho is regulated here while the movements of the heavenly bodies and comets are monitored
• Crown Keep - a small keep which is home to the Stormcasts who are allied to the Celestial college
• The great lighthouse and aetherport of Salgrun

*Although significantly not its last Emperor
**Not to be confused with the celestial council despite their outsized influence on it

Extracts from the last publication of the Nobleman's guide to Rho, a publication that ceased when demand for its services fell with the Empire.

..of course it could all have been very different.  After the Age of Chaos, the Eastern side of the Dawn mountains was completely cut off from the rest of Roh (sic) both by the geography; the mountain ridges curve around to the East preventing any access of a peninsula of land trapped by the mountains, as well as the great storm which engulfed the mountain peaks for the first century or so of this age.  

The dwarfs colonised the western slopes while unbeknown to them, humans from a different land crashed into the rocks near the peninsula and settled it - for several generations that was their whole world.

When the tempest lifted there was conflict and war although eventually the pragmatism of the dwarfs in recognizing two entrenched defensive positions won out and an uneasy peace was reached...

...just speculation that the storm had been caused by an open realm gate on top of Salgrun peak and that closing it permanently has stopped the Tempest.  Although who or what had the desire or motivation to do this is unknown to me...

... by then the dwarfs had come to recognise that the humans of Alba Mesa were not going anywhere and made good trading partners.  Relations begun to thaw at that point... 

...that doesn't explain the interest that the humans had in technology.  That came from the Celestial college which was a mix of mystics and engineers like nothing I have seen before.  The mystics fully believed that it was the will of Sigmar to tame the mountains as a way of accessing the heavens.  Whether from self interest or prophecy they encouraged the development of mechanical beasts of burden, the forerunners to today's steam horse cavalry.  Given the unique climate and geography of course it would have been impossible to develop any cavalry without the aid of magic or mechanics...

...a golden age it would never again quite live up to with the treaty reached with Emperor Eldros II of the Sinian Empire which saw the forces and races of order fight together as one to expel...

...presented its own unique problems given the fall of the Empire although the solution they eventually reached preserved and protected Alba Mesa (and Barak Mhorna) at the cost of their effectiveness at projecting power.  Their forces remain on high alert given the frequent incursions from the charred lands to the North...

Extracts from the annals of the Kings of Roh (sic) and their bonds to the Sinian Emperors

***

^^Art by Dmitriy Semyroz

The Dwarfish history of the Tallowlands

Draw close, manling, and pass that well-water your brewer flatters with the name of ale.

Hm. 

Passable, after all. Perhaps I misjudge the children of Sigmar.

At the least, my throat is not so dry as it was. While the fire burns still, let me tell you a little. You have been hospitable to my sister in her illness, and my kin do not soon forget kindness. 

Of the Tallowlands, it is said the Star Giants drew their plough across these lands – long ago; before the raising of the Hold, before the coming of Man; before the kingdoms that now flourish. The land buckled and melted in the heat, and the bones of the earth themselves grew soft and flowing. For two wholemoons the skies rained ash and fire as the plough drew slowly through the groaning ground. All who stayed on the surface perished. As the Giants passed, the land grew cold once more, and the mountains set into the soft rolling hills you see now.

Ages passed – ages of war and terror; long since passed into the myth of man. Then it was that the great King-before-Kings came to explore the furrow they had ploughed. As Nog reached the edge of the blackened land, he saw a long scar in the earth. It sank deep – deep beyond his sight – and was seeded with gems and ore to delight a thousand lifetimes.

It was hard, then, and bare: naught but thin grasses and heathers stretched across the moorlands, and the wind was chill. The Old gods, the hungry gods, were abroad in those days. Nog bought his safety through cunning pacts and bargains with Caer-Nadhg; and with wondrous gifts to He-that-is-named-Tidh.

Nog knew then that he would raise a hold. A Hold of a thousand – ten thousand! – families. He and his kin would steward these new Tallowlands. And so it became. A fort was raised; and then a keep. Over five manling lifetimes Nog laboured and sweated to bring his hold to reality; while drawing the richness of the furrow to himself. 

Then came the greenskin nomads, and the silver-tongued infidious elves – and with them they brought their war... 

***

Hm. Elves. They inveigled their way into the holds of the dawi-folk with flattery and bluster. At first, we were glad to have company, for the winters were long then, the wild things of the world fiercer, and elves – for all their failings – are always beautiful, always quick to laugh, always with the brightest stories and the finest riddles. 

Safely ensconsed within stout dwarf-built walls, they built their damnable towers; and spied on the heavens. They peered too far. 

In his arrogance, their Princeling Lauim declared he had found the first Great Lesson: that gods and mortals were not meant to stand alongside each other. The elves cast the ancient Pacts of the gods and Nog asunder, and used their witch-ways and towers to shift Caer-Nadhg and He-that-is-named-Tidh and Listan and Dairayan and the rest. No longer were they seen plainly, as in the Time of Ancestors; and nor could they be treated with by the words of honest dawi-folk – for the Old gods had moved beyond where the wind of breath could reach them.

It was an ill place, then; and without their presence the balance of the Wilds was broken. Tangled forests erupted with half-beasts and the mountains became treacherous with ogres and giants and trolls. Greenskins boiled forth from their hideouts and lairs, and the Wars of Sorrows began. Many towns were lost, and the dawi-folk were driven from the lowlands to their great holds. Beyond the hillside farms, we have never hence returned.

The elves were ejected, then, and have never since been welcome; but that did not save our underhalls, for the greenskins and beastmen and crawlers are braver now than once they were; as they have no gods to fear.

The Throng of Nog, as it stands in these benighted times.

***

Ask them, now, in the towns of Man, where the lands they dwell in began, and they will not know. Only the dawi remember, for we have rune-cunning; and carve our memories in stone. Aye, us, and perhaps the elves; though well it is said that it is better to trust a knife in the dark than an elf. 

The Sin and the Gorach were the first of the Men to settle, the first to trade, and the first to build cities. Where the dawi-folk had bargained with the gods, knowing them to be part of a great balance, Man brought their own gods with them – Khând, Hain-Amur, Mithrest – and grew strong. Their temples displaced those of the wild gods; and 

Those first kingdoms are now lost, long lost, and lamentably lost. The Southern fiefdoms – the latecoming Rhôvers  – are a dreary place in comparison with the glories of the Twin Empires. But such is the way of Man. Far-reaching, and short-sighted, the Sinian and Nygorach strove ever onwards.

At first, so the ancestors have it, there was a spirit of friendly competition, the two cities growing to become kingdoms, then empires... As the strength of each waxed, so they strove not merely to out-do one another, but to eclipse the other. After centuries, the Sinians, it seemed, had won – and bloodlessly, too – for their rich lands bordered much to the south, providing them with space to grow; while the thin soils of Nygorach grew stripped-back and starved as the people of the peninsula cannibalised what land they had in raising increasingly impressive monuments, their grandeur giving the proud rulers an inadvertently desperate air, that made visiting dignitaries' wine sour.

The Gorach would, eventually, fall to the temptations of powers that even the blade-ears avoid, and by the beard of Gazul, their new-found power would consume them.

The Tallowlands; a map charted by the umgi Warmtamale and Omricon.

It was not long since – within my lifetime, and I am no great age for a dawi  – that Sinian fell. In two-score years, its garrisons and towns and castles were eaten from within. The Sinian Emperor, and then his line, were lost, and the lands themselves seemed sickened. 

Trains of refugees and exiles swept down the mountain roads, seeking sanctuary. Armies of monsters trailed them, and as our holds became besieged, we learned then how it was that the Great Sinian Empire had fallen so quickly – for Nygorach had traded with dark places, and learned how to draw life away. So Sinian soldiers fell, unblemished; and even their firearms and gunpowder failed to light, as the spark of fire lost its life. It was then we learned once more the value of steel and sinew over the alchemy increasingly favoured by our cousins and by the youngling races. 

Turning to the ancestors, we found ancient tomes from the time the elves lived alongside us, and our runesmiths learned to yoke their sorcery; breaking its will and writing it into our runes, and thence to beat them into our steel. Thus strengthened by good dwarfish craft, were our holds able to withstand  the tide.

The conflict became known as the Ghoul Wars, and it continues to this day. It is our great sorrow to bear witness to the weakness of Man. With the strong arm of the Sinian Empire lost, the wild things of the Tallowlands grow bold once more. The mould-hearted children of the Nygorach are triumphant – though their mad king rules naught but charred wasteland. Pain, despair and hunger, the three children of  war, stalk the Tallowlands... 

***