Hi all,
Last week I had an interview with a local organizer of a Path to Glory campaign. Now with this edition of Age of Sigmar coming to an end in a few months, why not finally sink my teeth into these rules?
Army Lore: It’s long, feel free to skip to the bottom!
The portal rent open with a dry crunching sound. The two mortals stepped through and gazed upon a desolate vista. In the realms of chaos, silence is anathema yet here it reigned unchallenged. A dry plain carpeted by patches of reedy brown grass stretched in all directions,
The two figures stepped further from the portal and delicately picked their way through the land, carefully avoiding the patches of grass-like fauna. Their footsteps made no sound as they proceeded, and they made almost no indentation on the dry smooth ground. After what felt like a journey of hours the figures drew close to the citadel. It rose slowly out of the horizon, a white lump at first, with slender towers and odd features slowly resolving into focus. However, the first clue to appear was the bodies.
Interspersed between the clumps of pale lithe forms. The anorexic shapes were initially strewn meters apart, but gradually began appearing in clumps. The daemonettes appeared to be wasted and gaunt, black eyes firmly wedged open and pale tongues lolling in their slack jaws. These the travelers also avoided. Though the daemonettes appeared dead, careful examination showed that to be a lie. About 60 meters from the main gate of the city the largest grouping appeared. The listless creatures had collapsed in a circle around a single member of their kind. This daemonette was also face down but had a single claw gently stroking the wire on a ruined lyre. The instrument bore only a single string and its pitiful melody was all that broke the oppressive stillness.
The pair moved carefully onward. As they picked their way through the city the travelers marveled at its features. More akin to the other realms of chaos, the architecture was wrought like a madman’s fever dream. Whole sections of the city would appear uniform only to be crudely joined by wildly different structures. Palaces appeared welded to shanties pressed up against ancient temples across from desolate forges.
It was here the travelers encountered their first challenge. A fiend of Slaanesh shuffled through the streets, swaying to a rhythm that didn’t exist. The creature moved drunkenly, yet silently through the avenues in a purposeless fashion. Upon sighting the beast, the pair froze and stilled their breathing. They were encased in heavy white robes that muffled their movements and shrouded them from head to toe. Standing as still as statues, they dared not move as the strange creature grew closer. The fiend continued its lithe maneuvers slipping between the two mortals like a fish between a pair of boulders. The tail of the beast lashed out and suddenly coiled around the neck of one of the two humans. Not a violent act of murder but a spasmodic, searching gesture.
Time seemed to stand still as the beast slowly processed this occurrence. It shifted quietly, inclining its pointed snout, and flicked a ruby-red tongue in the direction of the shrouded figure. The fiend appeared disappointed. Agonizingly the tail uncoiled and continued its probing oscillations. After the beast had laboriously shambled off down a side street, the pair continued.
They came at last to a palatial manse that squatted between a trapezoidal Seraphon temple on one side, and a collection of crudely carded menhirs on the other. There was little to mark the structure as distinct from its environs but the pair moved relentlessly up its quiet steps. The foyer was lined with mirrors; however, these gave no reflection, appearing almost as a glass screen to another parallel world.
The pair of mortals soon came upon a central rotunda. The room was strewn with riches. Heaps of gold were clumsily piled in every corner, bundles of fabric tossed lazily in heaps next to disorganized stacks of ancient tomes. At the center was their prize. There stood the dormant mirror.
The mirror was massive and decadent, with cruel tendrils spreading from each side. However, its elegant facets were muted and dull, and the face of the mirror showed only a blue-green surface, like the featureless depths of a forest pool. However, there was one flaw in this mirror. On the left-hand side a web of cracks spread from a large triangular hole.
The pair of mortals moved quickly, producing a set of vials that were carefully wrapped in their robes. With shaking hands, the taller of the two carefully mixed the ingredients, every drop of liquid sounding like the roar of a mighty river in the oppressive stillness. In a sudden fit of clumsiness, one of the acolyte’s hands slipped, dropping the small stopper to one of the vials. It plinked delicately off the floor and disappeared beneath a pile of weathered scrolls. In the mortal realms, such a sound would have gone unnoticed by all but the keenest of beings. However, in this parody of reality, the sound crashed and reverberated through the palace, seeming magnified by the strange acoustics at play. In perfect synchronicity, a wave of green energy rippled through the mirror.
The wave appeared again, and again, timed not with the now silent stopper, but instead with the heartbeats of the closest mortal. The mortals could now hear things stirring in the depths, dust, undistributed for millennia began to shift as a faint breeze blew in from every direction and no direction all at once.
Knowing their time was short, the shorter acolyte seized the vial containing their concoction and threw it upon the mirror. If the stopper had been as a thunderclap, the vial breaking was as the eruption of a volcano. Waves of energy flushed across the mirror as it thrummed to life. The coiled tentacles wriggled suddenly as the entire contraption jerked upward. From underneath the pile of fabrics, emaciated forms appeared. Emerging as those from some deep sleep, the heralds took a few uneasy steps, with lank hair matted and clumped in odd bunches. These wretches possessed little of the glory of their progenitor but its malice was reflected in their pupil-less eyes.
The heralds closed in on the mortals, fanning out to pin their quarry against the writhing energies of the mirror. From other hallways more daemonettes appeared, equal parts ravenous and crazed. The shorter of the two mortals now thrust her hand into the satchel stitched into her garment, producing a jagged blade of glass. Moving quickly, she suddenly drove the glass into the chest of her companion, who let out a startled scream. The man staggered back scrabbling feverishly at the woman, as the pair tumbled closer to the mirror. The pair staggered backward, locked in combat. The man pawed at his assailant but was hampered by his thick robes which were quickly becoming drenched in blood.
The daemonettes continued to close their circle, becoming more and more aggressive at the sight of spilled blood. Knowing that her time was short the woman slipped beneath her victim’s grasp and directed a sharp kick into the man’s chest. This sent him crashing upward into the mirror, which eagerly spread its coils around the man. With agonizing slowness, the mirror drew its thrashing victim into itself merging the now screaming sacrifice into the hole on the left-hand side. The last piece to be drawn in was the glass knife, its bindings dissolving as the blade fit neatly into the hole from whence it had been taken centuries prior.
The mortal’s demise sent a ripple of energy through the attendant daemons that seemed to briefly satiate them. Having thoroughly enjoyed the show, the two Heralds of Slaanesh leaped atop the mirror as it advanced on the lone woman. In perfect synchronicity the giggling heralds addressed her.
“We “
‘Accept”
“Your”
“Sacrifice”
“Mortal
“But”
“We”
“Still”
“Hunger”
The heralds and their mirror continued to advance.
Shardspeaker Dantella removed her hood and fixed them with a pointed glare. She uttered a series of what sounded like gibberish, but the words rocked the heralds as they heard their true names spoken. Dantella continued, “If you wish to feed, I can provide an exquisite bounty but such a feast will come at a price.” The two heralds paused to look at each other, then at the swiftly growing press of lesser daemons drawn in by the carnage. Turing at last to Dantella they smiled
“Name”
“It”
Army Construction:
The campaign is a slow growth campaign, since I am a few months late I am coming in at 1000 points. For my starting territory I selected an Old Keep. This will give me an extra hero slot I can use later. I started with a Contorted Epitome, as it was a unit I am familiar with. I know it’s one of the best units in the book so I hope it doesn’t become over-powering. The limits on heroes in Age of Sigmar campaigns should keep it from becoming oppressive.
As for my other units I took one unit of BLissbarbs and one unit of Seekers as battle line, then two units of Fiends because i love them and they looked like they would be fun! With that I was all set. It’s a much simpler system then in 40K.
Now all i needed was an opponent. With my army ability granting bonus renown points, I knew this would be the easy part!
And remember, Frontline Gaming sells gaming products at a discount, every day in their webcart!
And remember, Frontline Gaming sells gaming products at a discount, every day in their webcart!