Marshal’s Log, Entry 15:
I am writing to the city council of Torvil on the eve of our final departure. The skies have been dark for close to a month, with soot rains and ashen winds leaving our strongpoint under a grey blanket. The light of Hysh reaches us rarely, and when it does, it is quickly smothered by the spewing clouds from Aqshy’s nearest volcano. My hands tremble from the searing feeling in my fingertips as the campaign is taking its toll on me. My sword feels heavier with every battle, and my legs weaker. I have left instructions on what to do in the case of my untimely demise during our next battle at the Ashenroom Isle, for it seems this last battle might be also the last I will lead before I am collected by Morrda.
Indrinienburg is preparing for an exodus. We have become a pocket of resistance for those who believe in the ideals of Sigmar and His allies, but we are pushed back on all sides. From the goals we had on our arrival, only little is left. Yet it has kept us going like a thirsty man in the desert, hoping that if we push ourselves just a little further, that we will meet salvation.
While my words might sound bleak, it is a light that has drawn the leader of clan Ivrevein, lord Bloodthorne, to assist us in our final push. The Treelord Ancient looks worse for wear as he has been on the frontlines in Cinderweald, fighting a losing war under the canopy to keep his people safe. Many of his branches have been snapped, and one of his feet has changed into a gnarly stump, taking root whenever he touches the ground, only to be uprooted whenever he makes a move. When I asked if he in his condition was up for a fight near an active volcano, he retorted with the explanation that he has the same doubts about my physical condition. At least I can write there is no fault in his sight or his fighting spirit.
Our messages from the mainland have not improved much sice our last message. Our eyes and ears end at the great peaks that divide the western lands from the eest. Many of the companies that started with us from have disappeared from our view. The Crew of the Flaming Rose, Sigdrani’s Faithful, the Sky-Keg Syndicate. All valiant warriors that might have been swallowed up by the threats on this part of the Ravaged Coast. And threats there are many.
The Skaventide has pushed ever further west, possibly hoping to reach the Ashenroom Island as fast as their machines and sorcery can carry them. Though the most dangerous group seems in the end to be the Gilded Skulls. This group has thrown themselves at every foe they could find. Our allies among the Stormcast Eternals and Lumineth report piles of skulls and bloody ritual sites found all over the northern reaches. I pray that we never have to meet them, for they must now be fearsome opponents.
In the east, almost on our doorstep, the Grand Alliance of Death has merged in the Embersands. The Ossiarch Bonereapers have clearly earned their title as Nagash’s finest warriors. While the other forces changed territories, these abominable creatures have stood their ground, slowly coalescing into a force to be reckoned with. Led by the Mortis Praetorians, who have defended their holds with their dreaded war machines, the Death Merchants and Reflection of Ruin have pushed north. Now they are united, bringing the full weight of the undead upon us.
In Obsidiraneum, the various warclans amongst the forces of Destruction have gathered. Once spread like wild animals, they have slowly been brought to heel by Brjok Bonechewer. This warboss of the Marrowcravers has gathered much awe amongst his fellow greenskins and others by his rituals, destabilizing the leylines in this part of the Ravaged Coast. Not just Kruleboys are flocking to his horde, but more and more of the other destruction forces are being pulled into the Waaagh. The Ironjaws and even the Gargants have started to follow the monster in his wake. The Era of the Beast might strike us with its aftershocks.
For Sigmar and his allies, it has been a difficult struggle. Both the Black Aegis and the Obsidian Watch still stand, as well as the Xhensian Realm Host. But we should say that the greatest force amongst us are the Fossilised Hunters, for whom the taste of defeat is a until now unknown. Yet while we have one of the greatest armies of the Ravaged Coast on our side, it is also the most capricious. Our last report tells how they unleashed their fury on another ally of ours, the Sylvaneth in the north. I fear that our list of allies is not as great as we thought it would be.
Recently we have tried to make plans on our next move. We have implored our allies for aid with the many civilians we try to protect, but I have made clear that both the forces of Torvil and Ivrevein are ready to march on the volcano. For we, the free peoples, are willing to take up arms for a brighter future of our kin. And I will rather give my life than my oath of comradery as a marshal. Pray for our safe return, for whatever we face, know that we will do so in the name of Sigmar. Blessed be His name, His kingdom, and those who fight for His justice.
Do not send reinforcements to us. No further men, duardin, or aelves should be sent to die in this hellscape.
Marshal’s Log, Entry 13:
The trap seems to have been activated. It is pulling close around us all.
The raging war is escalating. This is apparent from our lines of communication collapsing almost entirely with the eastern shore. All messages from Pyrehaven, the Sky-Keg Syndicate, the Xhensian Realm Host have pretty much ceased. Whether fled, annihilated, or a fate worse, we cannot tell.
This might be partially because the fighting around our Strongpoint is growing ever more intense. We together with the Black Aegis and the Obsidian Watch try desperately to stand our ground, but the incoming forces are relentless.
Great pressure is coming from the south. Both the Mortis Praetorian and the Death Merchants show why they are Nagash’s foulest creations, as they have repelled every obstacle in their path. News has come forth of attacks from both Khorne Berserkers and the Marrowcravers’ Waaagh having been fend off, while the Death Merchants are slowly moving northwest. Should they be joined by the Reflections of Ruin, then the scale of slaughter will be too terrible to imagine.
In the North, the Marrowcravers still hold sway. The Obsidian Watch tried to repel the orruks from north of Cinderweald, but they were defeated by their sheer numbers. To our concern, it seems that the warlord Brjok has become very interested in a nearby ruin, Obsidiraneum. With every fight, his horde is swelling like vultures before an upcoming slaughter. It has cut off our ties to Stormspire in the North, which can now only be reached by a dangerous sea journey.
Finally there is the most shocking development; we are now under threat as well from the west. This month, multiple gnawholes have opened at the Violet shore. We were unable to repel them, and while we have been saved from the worst by the stormy weather this month, it has given the worm-tailed fiends time to set up positions along Pyrix. This has led both the Gilded Skulls and the Helots to move to the west as well, moving like a pack of wild dogs across the land.
Life in Yndrinienburg is becoming more dire by the day. The last locals and children of the Sylvaneth are fleeing to this city, even though a large part is still in ruins. Our planned intervention force had not anticipated this influx of people, and food is becoming more scarce. Discipline has to be enforced, though the events around us help enforcing this in bleak ways. With the Skaven and Kruleboy Orruks so close around us, the people don’t dare to commit desert their post, for chances are great that they will be killed by either a foot long Kruleboy arrow, or being hacked to pieces by a horde of ratmen.
I pray daily to Sigmar for our salvation. We have been turned from the rescuing force into the force that will sooner rather than later need rescuing. Only by relying on the allies we have left can we have a chance for survival. Yet with each passing moment, the net seems to tighten.
Do not send reinforcements to us. No further men, duardin, or aelves should be sent to die in this hellscape.
Marshal’s Log, Entry 9:
The Ravaged Coast campaign continues. It has been a moon’s turn, and the bloodletting has only increased in it’s ferocity. As the various forces of the mortal realms clash, we can see that certain factions have made a great impact on this forsaken piece of land.
The Lightning strip has been severely strained by the assailing forces of Chaos, Death, and Destruction. The Warlords in the north have relentlessly launching assaults, seeking any weakness to exploit. In the last few weeks, the Gilded Skulls have been the most prolific, clashing in gruesome spectacles of bloodshed. It seems from the experience of those who encountered them that this was mere sport; no other army would throw themselves like this upon their enemies but for a dark and twisted joy. On shudders at the thought of meeting them in close combat.
After our last report on the tides of warfare, we reported a lack of action from the forces of Nagash. Our worst fears came to pass, as not long after, reports came in from slaughters wrought by the various forces of death. While we struggled with the Mortis Praetorian, the Death Merchants struck as well in the east. Even worse is the news our spies could give from further south; from lake Shattenmeer, a warhost of vampires has been unleashed, feasting upon mortals like locusts from green fields, leaving only desolation in their wake. There have also been reports of another vampiric outbreak near the Emberflow, though the nature of this foe is as of yet unclear. We can only warn travellers to watch themselves at the Emberflow, though that is a hollow warning here.
The most prolific foes have been up till now the forces of destruction. This month, we have seen two of the three warlords wreak havoc across the ravaged coast. On of the most infamous among them is Brrjok Bonechewer, who has vanquished two Duardin armies on the western coast.
Yet we have acknowledge the valiant actions of our allies as well. In days of doubt like these, we should count ourselves lucky with formidable allies such as the Stormcast Eternals. Both the brotherhoods of the Obsidian Watch and the Black Aegis have fought with inspiring tenacity to keep us safe. A more unusual ally has appeared beyond the great mountain range dividing the lands in the north in two. Over the last weeks, we have continuously received reports of a monstrous stampede appearing from the Shadow Valley, wreaking havoc before vanishing without a trace. The details we have received indicate a Seraphon army guarding the region. These daemons of order are allied with Sigmar, but their ways and goals are alien to us. While highly unpredictable, I believe it is time to send emissaries to these lands to see whether we have these creatures share our goals.
With the events transpiring around us, I believe it is time to muster our defences. It will not belong before enemies on either our southern or our northern borders will test how far they can push. We will have to be ready. But as we do so, I believe it is time to call upon the followers of the Pantheon of Order. In dire times like these, we are called upon one another to stand side by side. Alone, we and those we protect might crumble to nothingness. But united we are capable to change the odds and create a bulwark to expulse the forces who wish to harm us. May Sigmar guide us towards the demise of our foes.
Marshal’s Log, Entry 6:
I am writing this entry while still recovering in Indrinienburg. It is one of the most dreadful aspects of fighting Kruleboy orruks; long after the battle, the wounds they afflict still are not fully healed. May Sigmar cast them from the Mortal Realms.
Our forces have been busy taking care of the wounded and improving our camp. Much toil has been made but we have been able to clear the harbour, and multiple barracks have been set up. The most important thing however, is that we have a messenger outpost set up. With this, we cannot only send out messages, but more importantly receive them as well on the swift wings of Aetherwings and Hyshian Sunhawks. With this, we have received much news about the happenings here on the Ravaged Coast.
Our allies on the Lightning Strip have made overall steady footing. Our closest allies, the Black Aegis, have been able to halt both a warlord of Tzeentch and a band of Gargants to the north, while a Lumineth host has defended the Sanctum of Stone from both Skaven and Orruk raiding parties with a grace typical of this kin. From further away, the results have been more mixed, with forces of our sister city Pyrehaven having been attacked by a separate Ossiarch force, while the Obsidian watch have had fierce fights against two separate warhosts of Chaos. Our Sylvaneth allies also seem to have been attacked by Tzeentchian cultists. Finally, we have received news that a fleet of Kharadron claimed victory over a growing orruk warclan, while the mountains near Esmir were the sight of what is believed to be a clash between Gargants and Seraphon beasts.
The Ruinous Powers have for now gained little holding in this part of Aqshy. Of the three warlords in the north, two have not yet been able to press further south, fighting in the shades of Ironwood (as of yet, there is no news of what has become of the Slaaneshi host). Skaven raids haven been recorded on both shorelines with variating levels of success. This is however just the first skirmishes. Any proper general always keep in mind the fickleness of the Chaos gods, and how they like to toy with illusions of confidence.
The forces of death have been largely silent. They seeming to gather their forces in the south. While the Ossiarch Bonereapers have been marching with little regard of subtlety, the various vampire bloodlines seem to stay in the shadows for now. What this means for us is unclear, but I am certain we will dread how shallow our imagination is of their vicious schemes.
The forces of Destruction have been largely spread out, looking to cause as much violence as they can, and generally acting like brigands. It is with some surprise that on of the most infamous warlords on this island seems to be one of their ilk; The Orruk breaker-boss, named Brjok Bonechewer. Together with his tribe, the Marrowcravers, they have moved south from the river Kiera, carving a bloody path through the Ravaged coast. His reputation has only exasperated as he has released many of our captured soldiers, who have spread the horrors they have seen in the Marrowcraver camp to other settlements as far as the Sanctum of Stone and Stormspire.
With this news, we will soon have to make our next action. Perhaps we can support one of our nearby allies with their conflicts, such as the tides of chaos in the north, or the undead assaults from the south. Winter is almost over and instead of rain, this soil will wake and feast of the blood of many a fierce warrior.
Marshal’s Log, Entry 4:
We have made contact with a native force that has come to our call, though it were not the allies we thought would answer it. During the midday, our camp was called to the ready as unknown figures had appeared in front of our gates.
The mysterious messengers were wreathed in foliage and timber. It was a group of tree-revenants, guardians of the strange and wondrous Sylvaneth. They asked to talk to me directly. As allies of Sigmar, they were let in.
The revenants have told us that they hale from the Inivre clan. This clan has lived for ages in the forests north of Indrinienburg, constantly struggling against the ravenous forces that have assaulted them over the ages. This fight has only became more dire since the Vermindoom.
Our hidden neighbours have informed us of an ancient foe causing great destruction in their home. A group of Kruleboyz has been culling the local monsters in the valley for their bones, specifically the marrow inside it. If left unattended, these orruks might cause great damage, for it is unlikely that they will halt their murderspree when they notice our encampments.
And so, we march with our new allies to face this new foe. Sigmar protect us, for the Kruleboyz are known for their horrid poisons and their merciless tactics. If we wish to win this fight, we will have to match their cunning, and watch our backs.
Marshal’s Log, Entry 2:
Our scouting forces have returned from their mission. Their tales have given us a clearer overview of the land, our allies, and our enemies. And our enemies are many.
Most friendly forces who wish to bring order to these lands have their strongholds on a strip that goes zigzagging across the width of the island. We have come to call it ‘The Lightning Strip’. The issue is that there is at the moment no clear connection to our allies, as most roads are crossing hostile territories. Our nearest allies seem to be a brotherhood of Stormcast Eternals North from here, calling themselves ‘The Black Aegis’. Though we hope we can rely on their aid, we must not trust a hope. These are dire times, and even Sigmar’s greatest can be everywhere at once.
The foul forces of Ruin are mainly located further North. From there, three hosts from three of the dark gods, Khorne, Slaanesh, and Tzeentch, have arrived to wreak havoc upon the Ravaged Coast. Having said this, we must never forget the treacherous Skaven, who run rampant here on the Ravaged Coast, and can appear from anywhere, as well as warbands led by cruel warlords who worship all aspects of the apocalyptic pantheon.
Various familiar foes are running rampant in these lands as well. From what my scouts have told me, a significant amount of Kruleboy orruks have gathered near a place called the ‘Scorched Marshes’. I hope our allies will be able to subdue this beast before it grows big, for all the signs are there that a mighty Waaagh! is bubbling there to the surface. And if the Waaagh! is unleashed, who knows what else will answer.
Our final coalition of foes I have kept for last, for they are the most pressing for our expedition. The southern parts of these lands seem to be infested by Nagash’s vile creations. Usually, they can be expected to quarrel amongst themselves, as lifetimes of pride, arcane defects, and a wearisome disposition towards their master keeps them from uniting. However, I fear that being so close to the Vermindoom will cause the vain vampire lords and aspiring arch-liches to set aside their differences for a common cause. And to our peril, one of these undead foes is right on our doorstep.
The scouts who came back first had not even gone for a full day before they returned, describing ebony monoliths, depicting watching warriors. These are clear signs of the presence of Ossiarch Bonereapers, the cruel foil from Nagash to our Stormcast protectors. Their skill in warfare is legendary, and if we have seen them, they have seen us. It will not be long before we will receive a messenger from them giving us the false comfort of peace in return for a ‘bone tithe’. It will be in our best interest to take up arms, and meet the Ossiarch head-on at our border. If we wish to stay here, we will have to answer this threat with the fearlessness of a lion. Let our cannon fire be our roar.
Marshal’s Log, Entry 1:
We have been able to set a perimeter in what appears to be our headquarters for the foreseeable future. A watch has been set around an inner wall between the harbour and the rest of the ruined city. Volgi has made sure that every entrance is fully manned with at least a detachment of steelhelms and fusiliers on any advantageous position. For now, the nights are quiet.
Thank Sigmar on His throne in Azyr for our journey. It has been as fast and smooth as a thrice-blessed bullet through a grot’s eye. After the news from the Dawnbringer’s Crusade in Aqshy, we were prepared to witness the worst the Mortal Realms could muster. Yet here we are, practically whole, with even a few souls extra, desperate either to claim vengeance against our foes ahead, or running from whatever is behind them.
When looking for a place to set up our camp, we received news from Renstan’s Keep about the ruins of a kingdom called ‘Pyrix’. Our inquiring questions were waved way. ‘This is Aqshy.’ We were told. ‘Ghur has not enough beasts for the parchment to record all the kingdoms than once rose and fell here.’
The ruins we found were deserted. A strange occurrence, though I suspect whatever made this their boding has ran to the mountains after the Vermindoom. We have scouted the nearby buildings, but so far, we have only found the ashen silhouettes of the city’s past inhabitants. May Morrda guide them to their final rest.
We have decided to name our outpost Yndrinienburg, after our patron Yndrasta. May she watch over our trackers and let our shots hit true.
I have sent out scouts to the North, South, and East. With a pinch of luck, we will be able to find other’s who share our cause of protecting the Mortal Realms from the blight that is known as the Skaven.
Zinkev is busy with inspecting the deeper levels of what seems to be a former armoury. I hope he finds the resources for us to forge Aqshian weapons. The masters at Torvil would be pleased with access to such a treasure, as would I.