The Gates of Barak Varr

There is a place where the Howling River issues from the Black Gulf where stands the mighty Dwarfen fortress of Barak Varr.


In its heyday the fortress was proud and prosperous but has fallen now on desperate times, for all the Dwarven men and wives have been slaughtered, every child thrown into the sea. It is a dark place infested with now only with dark creatures.

There is more than one place of entry to Barak Varr, most notably from the very sea itself, but from the north the way is blocked by the river. Here a bridge of wide girth passes over, allowing in days now gone for trade and peaceful visits.

Instead, in these days of war, it functions only as a sallying point for foul raids into the Border Princes as the dark forces gathered within the fortress march forth to taint the lands with their tread.

But while the bridge still stands there remains yet hope, that instead of merely disgorging evil, it might act as a means to storm the bastion - for forces just and courageous to tramp down from the north and take Barak Varr back once more!

In either case, it is a place where battle is met and always will be.

And more the shame for it.

The Narrows

North of the land of New Sylvania within the Border Princes and even further north than the festering crack in existence, in Bloodroot Forest, lies a place called the Narrows.

There the trees fall back a little; crowded out of the way by sharp rocky outcroppings that rise from the earth. Here the dense clusters of rock form channels and paths between the trees making transit for large forces problematic.

An army brought to battle here risks terrible loss if they aren't able to use the terrain to their advantage to cut off and hem in their enemies. With rocks rising high, detachments can find themselves trapped and unable to manoeuvre freely as more agile forces circle to cut them off.

But the Narrows is not only dangerous for that, for it falls within the deadly domain of Chaos. The creeping corruption of the Chaos Vein that seeps through the rent at Pernicious Gate taints all it touches and here too rise giant blood-drenched skulls from the very ground.

The skulls moan and keen, calling all those who stray into this realm to descend into the blood pools from which they rise. Here, they whisper, will all answers be found and all troubles forgotten.

But only the foolhardy or the damned would dare answer their summons.

The Narrows is a place of dire peril for all who enter it but it is a crucial stepping stone for the Men of Stone in the north to reach, and seal forever, the Pernicious Gate.

The Wailing Woods

Between the River Stacnek and Hangman's Road, on the edge of Bloodroot Forest north of Malko, is an eerie place tainted by the coming of chaos and the opening of the Pernicious Gate.

It is said that once the caress of chaos has been felt, the corruption of it will last forever more, and this taint spreads ever wide to north and south and east and west.

Here it sinks into the roots and the ground. It blackens the soil and twists the bark and branches of the trees into spectral shapes. Here the wind doesn't breeze and rustle through the leaves; it sounds in the hollows and crevices, wailing in bitter sorrow.

The wailing of the woods can be heard for miles in the small hours of night, keeping superstitious peasants awake and children crying in the village of Death Knell to the west. It is a godless sound that scratches scars on the soul that never heal. It is a sound to drive men mad.

Upon a time this land had been prime hunting ground for the lords of Malko where stags and pheasant could be shot or trapped. Now it is an empty lifeless warren of frightening dark and leery spectacle. It is a place of value to nothing or no-one except perhaps to the elves of Bloodroot Forest who care little for the taint of the Chaos Vein or to the Daemons who wish to pervert every corner of our bright realm.

To men it is a lost stretch of land, useful only as a place to take back from the brink of damnation; a place to purge with fire  and raze to ash; a place to stand and fight and say, "No more."

But even if this dreary location were ever purged so; burned and stripped to blackened stone, would it ever truly lose the taint of chaos? Or would the wailing continue across the scorched and barren earth?

Surely this place, like all places touched by chaos is damned forever.

 

In-Game Effects: 

Within the Wailing Woods, three dice are rolled for the Winds of Magic and the lowest one discarded. 

"Good" forces suffer -1 Leadership throughout the game unless they are Stubborn, cause Fear or are Immune to Psychology. 

The Ruins of Kalkor

There is a place, in the foothills of the Black Mountains, south of Karak Hirn and close to where the Old Silk Road passes over Lodestone River. It is a place that in ancient times housed sorcerous rituals that never should have been performed.

In few other places in the Old World does magic coalesce and flood as it does here, even now, centuries after it was last used as a place of dark sacrifice. It is said that there are those that still exist, ancient ones who never have and perhaps never will die, who remember Kalkor's original purpose. Who know why now it stands only as ruins.

Who will one day return to claim it.

But now it stands empty, shunned by beast and bird; by monster and by man; because of the unnatural chill there, the throbbing power that still flows through the stones of the ancient ruins. Those of sense know to stay well away and fools that stumble close are seldom seen again, at least in the same shape as once they wore.

The touch of sorcery is rank here, but some believe that it is a force that can be controlled; one that might grant unlimited power to those wilful enough to clasp it.The Dwarfs of Karak Hirn know this to be more than conjecture, for their shrouded history is touched by the damnation of this place. They know the danger of its power ever falling into fell hands and through long centuries they have guarded it from evildoers or arrogant do-gooders.

When eight hundred years gone gone by, Gerard d'Astatic founded Tempest Falls in the east with the help of the Dwarfs, he learned of the Ruins of Kalkor and requested leave to utilise the dark place's power against the malevolent creatures of the Border Princes.

He was refused by Dorak Grund himself, High King of the Karak Hirn, coming close to mortal combat over the issue; but Gerard backed down in the end and the ruins remained empty and guarded by the Dwarfs.

Safe from all evildoers. For now.

But one day soon, the time will come when tainted eyes fall upon the old stoneworks; when they realise its hidden strength and lust to make it their own.

Or worse; the day will come when the evil that built Kalkor returns to claim it. And surely that will spell the end of all days and the coming apocalypse.

Surely that day must be prevented at all costs.

In Game Effects:

The Ruins of Kalkor function as a single Arcane Fulcrum owned by the defending player. All supporting rules from Storm of Magic are used during the game.

The Guillotine on Beggar's Mount

There is a place renowned in the Black Mountains for nothing but grisly obscene death.

There is tell that in times of old, the region there was rich in wealth, the mountains teeming with prospectors. Gold and jewels were to be found with little work and dwarfs and humans alike flocked to the area to increase their wealth.

The Border Princes has ever been a tough place to live or work and those days were no different. The prospectors had their share of predators, both beast and humanoid, but they defended their claims and formed a society of sorts, bartering and sharing, as little settlements sprung up in crevices all over the mountainous realm.

But in the centre of this nascent realm was a place called Beggar's Mount, a tall hill upon whose top was built a stage. On top of that was placed a deadly guillotine. No records tell of the builder of this dreadful device but tales speak of its need as thievery ran rampant because so much wealth was to be had.

The crime of theft was dealt with swiftly and finally by the hard line prospectors. They were there to grow rich. Any men who got in the way of that had to be dealt with.

The years went on and the number of executions increased. People say that the prospectors took a fondness for the sound of the sliding blade; the thunk of the decapitation. Whispers speak that not all the victims of the fiendish device were thieves. Not all were guilty of any crime.

It became merely sport as new arrivals to the area were weeded out so that the original prospectors could go on gathering more and more wealth.

And gather wealth they did until (as the rumours say), each prospector owned vast hordes of gold and jewel; wealth beyond counting. And still the guillotine on Beggar's Mount fell, cutting the necks of any who challenged their prosperity.

But it could not last forever.

Too much evil in one place can taint the land itself and the guillotine was the focus of decades of accumulated hedonism and murder. As time went on, the spirits of the unfair dead were said to howl round the mount when the moon was dim or when an execution was scheduled.

More than one passerby vanished in the night leaving no trace but their screaming lopped off head in the guillotine's catch-basket.

Stories of the horror surrounding this awful place grew more and more prevalent until it wasn't just fear of decapitation that kept away travellers and hopeful new prospectors. All those who heard of this dread region in the south east of the Border Princes knew that to visit there would assure death and eternal damnation.

Then finally, one cold winter night, every single inhabitant of the crooks and valleys for miles around was slain.

In one night, over two hundred prospectors and their families were dragged to the guillotine and decapitated.

Nobody knows who did it. No human being or dwarf remained alive at the end of that night within forty miles.

When travellers next passed through that region it had become a deathly silent place. Every cabin was deserted, every settlement falling into decay.

And at the guillotine on Beggar's Mount were piled the decapitated heads of every one of them.

People came in search of the treasure - despite their fear, of course they would. But none was ever found.

Every prospector had been murdered and every lump of gold; every diamond; had vanished.

Designer's Note: During games the guillotine of Beggar's Mount provides the following bonuses to units within 6": 

Undead Units: Gain an extra D3 wounds from spells which raise the dead. 
Other Evil forces: Gain Frenzy. 
Good and Neutral forces: Are subject to fear but also gain Stubborn. 

Massacre at the Tower of Hashut

Chaos Dwarfs (Tim) vs Tempestrians (Gill) 

Deep in the Worlds Edge Mountains, eastern rim of the Border Prices, one hundred miles north west of Gorak Duraz, fell capital of the Chaos Dwarfs and close to the eastward border of Tempestria, stands a great tower on a rocky plateau.

This is the dread Tower of Hashut.

Fair forgotten histories of the Chaos Dwarfs tell of the coming of Chaos from the north when yet they remained pure of heart; of a time of perilous need when no allies stood beside them to defend against this coming onslaught of Daemon and evil man. The histories tell of a terrible pact made in these hours with a strange and sinister visitor to the halls of Zorn Uzkull; a pact for salvation from this overwhelming attack in return only for the worship of Hashut: lord of Chaos; lord of Bulls.

Fearing for their lives, the Dwarfs accepted, and were damned forever more.

There is more to this tale; far far more; that is told elsewhere; but it is said that the great and terrible Hashut dwelt then and dwells now in an edifice far south and west of Zorn Uzkull; this place; this tower: the Tower of Hashut.

It is a place of evil; the lands about more barren than the rocks of the mountains themselves. All things good shun it, but it is a sacred site for the Chaos Dwarfs; a place of worship to which they can pilgrimage; to commune with their Lord face to face, to ask for his council or ask for his strength.

No one outside of the people of the Chaos Dwarfs knows the truth now. If Hashut resides in the tower or ever did is a mystery that will stand as long as the tower does, but regardless, those warriors that defend the tower are imbued with vitality; filled with hatred of their enemies and granted the boon of frenzy, such that they may rip out the hearts of any who would dare assault their dark god's home.

And thus is it was; on this day in the present time, that the Chaos Dwarfs of Gorak Duraz, the Cunning Stone, stood ready to defend this holiest of places from their enemies; the proud and strong warriors of Tempestria, to the west.

The Sorcerer Prophet watched as the enemy approached atop his Great Taurus, summoning fell magics of ash and fire.

Closer to the tower, the deadly steam-driven war machine known as the Skullcracker, never yet tested in battle, chugged noisily, eager for blood and carnage while flanking the tower strode not one, but two undefeatable K'Daai Destroyers.

The knights of Tempestria charged into battle as the magical bolts and arrows of the foot soldiers and sorceresses filled the air, taking down the Sorcerer Prophet before he could join his legion in battle.

Methuselah crashed into the Skullcracker astride one of his Hippogriffs, denying the momentum of its charge, and both he and the powerful beast scored at the infernal machine, as to his left, two powerful units of knights assaulted the mountainous animated statues of the K'Daai.

But neither Methuselah or his beast were a match for the Skullcracker. His hippogriff was chopped and sliced into ribboned flesh and he was sent reeling and unconscious into the mud to crawl feebly and terrified away as it crunched on, almost unharmed.

The knights fared little better against the K'Daai Destroyers.

Meanwhile, from the flank came a mighty Bull Centaur Taur'ruk. He slew the faltering crew of a towering trebuchet then went on to hack into the archers beyond, bringing them down. And as all this was going on, Daemonsmiths hurled fire and death, while their presence allowed ever accurate Deathshrieker Rocket Launchers to strike unerringly at their foes.

Even with fully half of their stout warriors garrisoning the Tower of Hashut, the Chaos Dwarfs devastated the Tempestrian assault, the Skullcrusher and mighty K'Daai Destroyers, charging on into the back field to hunt down any survivors.

The Tempestrian assault had been a paltry thing; barely a threat.

Within their own realm, the Chaos Dwarfs ruled supreme!

The Mighty Bridge of Hel Snatch

 

Near the western rim of the Devil's Pathway, close to the centre of the Border Princes, the River Trebleca winds down toward the Fields of Contagion and the deserted city of Fell Glen at its mouth on the edge of the Black Gulf.Here the Old Silk Road, that comes from far off Tempest Falls in the east crosses at the mighty bridge of Hel Snatch.

In years past, the Old Silk Road served as the artery of trade and transport from one end of the Tempestrian realms to the other, beginning at that famous plateau of rock whereupon the castle of Tempest Falls stands, through Malko, the erstwhile capital to Gaping Jaw, home for a while to the thrice cursed men of Jordan d'Astatic, now more greatly known by the name of fear, Bull Rogue, transformed as he is into a monstrous troll.

Here, at the mighty bridge of Hel Snatch, the Old Silk Road crosses the Trebleca, scant miles from the brooding edifice of Gaping Jaw, once a bastion of men; now infested with animalistic Orcs and Goblins. It is across this bridge that the Orcs come to bring misery to the lands of the east, but times have changed from the years when they ran free, unopposed.

For now, this land is possessed of the recently awakened Warriors of Dunkel Schloss, dread legions of Chaos whose only purpose is to kill and conquer. They control the Old Silk Road from Hel Snatch to the edge of the West Woods surrounding Malko.

One day soon their attention will turn that way, toward the realms of mankind, but for now, they stand in sight of the towers of Gaping Jaw. For now they wait only until their forces are ready. For though the Orcs will come to drive them back, their know in their black hearts that Gaping Jaw will soon be theirs.

The Plums of Death Knell

The little town of Death Knell is nestled into the curving rim of Bloodroot Forest and dangerously close to the Bloodroot altar, the place from which the Elves of Linwe set out on their deadly raids for sacrifices. As such, the town more than lives up to its name with the townsfolk clinging on more for bloody mindedness than for any sense they might have been born with.

Like many of the towns within the beleaguered Border Princes, the buildings grew out from the central marketplace and market hall. Here produce is stored for consumption in the hard months of winter and, at times, fairs are held in which the harvest is sold on to travellers and merchants from Malko.

A good deal of this produce comes from the orchards, cultivated trees within Bloodroot Forest that bear strange but delicious fruit. Whether the Blood Root itself has any effect on this fruit, no one can say for sure, but the sweet plums of Death Knell's orchard are swollen and delicious. They are regarded as a delicacy in Malko, especially by the former mayor, prior to his death, and if there are any side effects to their consumption, the traders will not say.

Suffice to say, the population level of Death Knell seldom falls far, despite the frequent raids by the spiteful Elves of the forest. The birth rate, hardiness, and rate of growth of the inhabitants of this tainted land is prestigious. Families are large and constitution strong.

The plums of Death Knell are sought after even as far north as the Empire, for those who know of them. In great vats beneath the ground in Death Knell, the bloated over-sweet plums are made into a thick and heady wine; wine of which the Count of Averland never takes a meal without a goblet at his side.

Yes, Death Knell is a pretty place and a place of renown, despite the danger lurking in the north, but the townsfolk would never leave here. The fruit of the orchard tastes far too good for that.