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Credits President: Sherry Yeary
Chief Creative Officer: Matthew D. Wilson Publications Director: Michael G. Ryan Creative Director: Ed Bourelle
Director of Business Development: Will Shick Director of Operations: Jason Martin Art Director: Mike Vaillancourt Lead Developer: Jason Soles
Playtest Coordination: Jack Coleman
Graphic Design Director: Laine Garrett Studio Director: Ron Kruzie
Hobby Manager: Stuart Spengler
Editorial Manager: Daniel Henderson Writing Manager: Matt Goetz
•••
Editor-in-Chief: Lyle Lowery
Editing: Kelsey Fox, Lyle Lowery, Cal Moore, Michael G. Ryan Proofreading: Jack Coleman, Matt Goetz, Will Hungerford, Ron Kruzie, Cal Moore, Dan Roman, William “Oz” Schoonover, William Shick
On the Cover
Continuity Editors: Matt Goetz, Douglas Seacat, Jason Soles
Cygnar vs. Skorne by Néstor Ossandón and Andrea Uderzo
Graphic Design: Laine Garrett, Jessy Stetson, Ainsley Yeager
Photography: Matt Ferbrache, Alex Smith, Jessy Stetson, Gil Surepi
Juggernaut’s Journey
Studio Miniatures Painting: Matt DiPietro, Geordie Hicks, Dallas Kemp, Ron Kruzie
Roskilde, Denmark
•••
Contributors Michael Archer, Josh Colón, Steen Comer, Jason Enos, Matt Goetz, Doug Hamilton, Will Hungerford, Adam Oligschlaeger, Micah Scott Ralston, Dan Roman, Aeryn Rudel, Michael G. Ryan, William “Oz” Schoonover, Douglas Seacat, William Shick, Tim Simpson, Jason Soles, Mike Vaillancourt
•••
Illustrations
Andrew Arconti, Carlos Cabrera, Oscar Cafaro, Jeremy Chong, Johan Grenier, Mariuez Gandzel, Nikolay Georgiev, Mateusz Ozminski, Luis Gama, Grzegorz Rutkowski, Brian Snoddy, Ben Lo, Néstor Ossandón, Andrea Uderzo, Mike Vaillancourt, Matthew D. Wilson
Even Vikings could have used a Juggernaut by their side as they raided up and down the coast. Granted, Juggernaut’s are more about pillage than plunder . . . —Photo by Gil Surepi
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All content copyright 2001–2016 Privateer Press, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Privateer Press®, Iron Kingdoms®, The Witchfire Trilogy, Monsternomicon, Five Fingers: Port of Deceit, Full Metal Fantasy, Immoren, Unleashed, WARMACHINE®, Forces of WARMACHINE, WARMACHINE High Command, Steam-Powered Miniatures Combat, WARMACHINE: Tactics, Convergence of Cyriss®, Convergence, Cryx®, Cygnar®, Khador®, Protectorate of Menoth®, Protectorate, Retribution of Scyrah®, Retribution®, warcaster®, warjack®, HORDES®, Forces of HORDES, HORDES High Command, Monstrous Miniatures Combat, Circle Orboros®, Circle, Legion of Everblight®, Legion, Skorne®, Trollbloods®, Trollblood, warbeast, War Room, Lock & Load®, Steamroller, Hardcore, Iron Gauntlet, No Quarter, Formula P3, Formula P3 Hobby Series, Monsterpocalypse®, Bodgers, Heap, Infernal Contraption, Infernal Contraption 2: Sabotage!, Scrappers, Zombies Keep Out, Grind, Skull Island eXpeditions, SIX, Dogs of War, Exiles in Arms, Called to Battle, The Warlock Sagas, The Warcaster Chronicles, Privateer Pins, and all associated logos and slogans are trademark property of Privateer Press, Inc. All other trademarks appearing are property of their respective owners. First printing Vol. 12, Issue 67: July 2016. Printed in the USA. This magazine contains works of fiction, any resemblance to actual people, organizations, places, or events in those works of fiction are purely coincidental. Duplicating any portion of the materials herein unless specifically addressed within the work or by written permission from Privateer Press is strictly prohibited. In the event that permissions are granted such duplications shall be intended solely for personal, noncommercial use and must maintain all copyrights, trademarks, or other notices contained therein or preserve all marks associated thereof. LEVEL 7 is a registered trademark of Matthew D. Wilson, Individual. Used with permission.
Table of contents New Releases
4
Editorial
10
Community Spotlight News from the Front: European Masters Series
12
The Gavyn Kyle Files: Major Elizabeth Maddox
14
Inside the Art Director’s Studio
24
Battle Report: Double Rumble
35
Skull Island eXpeditions Plots a Course into the Future
49
Skull Island eXpeditions: Tales of the Invisible Hand
52
Grandmaster Painting Competition: Lock & Load
58
The Gavyn Kyle Files Major Elizabeth Maddox
Basic Terraining Rough Terrain
2
11
Table Of Contents
14
80
Battle Report Double Rumble
Theme Force The Kingmaker’s Army
35
74
Iron Gauntlet Terrain Showcase
64
Courage at the Crossroads: Season One
68
Theme Force: The Kingmaker’s Army
74
Grandmaster Painting Competition: SmogCon
77
Basic Terraining: Rough Terrain
80
Historical Scenario: Capturing Vinter’s Son
88
Peace of Mind
90
Iron Kingdoms Uncharted: Part One
94
Player Gallery
111
Painting Challenge
112
Grandmaster Painting Competition Lock & Load
Grandmaster Painting Competition SmogCon
58
77
Historical Scenario Capturing Vinter’s Son
Iron Kingdoms Uncharted Part One
88
94
Table Of Contents
3
New Releases
Berserker/Mad Dog/Rager (Plastic) game: warmachine/khador sculptor: dave kidd • painter: dallas kemp release: july PIP 33106 • $34.99
Behemoth (Resin/Metal) game: warmachine/khador sculptor: dave kidd • painter: dallas kemp release: july PIP 33121 • $69.99
4
New Releases
Inflictor/Seether (Plastic) game: warmachine/cryx sculptor: ben misenar • painter: dallas kemp release: august PIP 34096 • $34.99
Carrion Thralls (Metal) game: warmachine/cryx sculptor: steve saunders • painter: dallas kemp release: august PIP 34133 • $44.99
New Releases
5
New Releases
Prime Axiom/Conflux (Plastic) game: warmachine/convergence sculptor: ben misenar painter: matt dipietro release: july PIP 36030 • $109.99
Arcane Tempest Rifleman (Metal) game: warmachine/cygnar sculptor: carlos castaño • painter: dallas kemp release: august PIP 31127 • $12.99 6
New Releases
Black 13th Strike Force (Metal) game: warmachine/cygnar sculptor: javier garcia ureña • painter: dallas kemp release: august PIP 31130 • $21.99
Blackclad Stoneshaper (Metal) game: hordes/circle sculptor: steve saunders • painter: dallas kemp release: july PIP 72098 • $12.99
Ghetorix (Resin/Metal) game: hordes/circle sculptor: brian dugas • painter: dallas kemp release: august PIP 72095 • $54.99
Baldur the Stonecleaver (Metal) game: hordes/circle sculptor: steve saunders • painter: dallas kemp release: july PIP 72091 • $14.99
Hellmouth (Resin) game: hordes/legion sculptor: doug hamilton • painter: dallas kemp release: august PIP 73099 • $34.99 New Releases
7
New Releases
WARMACHINE Two-Player Battlebox release: august PIP 25002 • $89.99
HORDES Two-Player Battlebox release: august PIP 70002 • $89.99
Universal Effect Tokens—Blind, Knockdown, Shadow Bind, Stationary release: july PIP 91123 • $14.99
Universal Effect Tokens—Fire, Corrosion, Disruption release: july PIP 91122 • $14.99 8
New Releases
Universal Corpse & Soul Tokens release: july PIP 91124 • $14.99
Acts of War I: Flashpoint release: july PIP 609 • $14.99
WARMACHINE and HORDES Token Sets Available in July Cygnar PIP 91115 • $14.99
Cryx PIP 91118 • $14.99
Mercenaries PIP 91121 • $14.99
Legion of Everblight PIP 91127 • $14.99
Protectorate of Menoth PIP 91116 • $14.99
Retribution of Scyrah PIP 91119 • $14.99
Trollbloods PIP 91125 • $14.99
Skorne PIP 91128 • $14.99
Khador PIP 91117 • $14.99
Convergence of Cyriss PIP 91120 • $14.99
Circle Orboros PIP 91126 • $14.99
Minions PIP 91129 • $14.99
New Releases
9
Editorial Locked and Loaded I’m writing this editorial with Lock & Load GameFest 2016 barely in the rearview mirror. What an event! It was a spectacular way to usher in the new editions of WARMACHINE and HORDES, and it was awesome to be able to dig into all the new rules and stats with so many excited people. In this issue, you’ll get a little taste of Lock & Load GameFest—you’ll find some great articles covering the likes of the Grandmaster Painting Competition and the spectacular terrain showcase that was the table used in the Iron Gauntlet Championship. No Quarter #67 also presents a lot of firsts. It has the first theme force for the new editions; Magnus and some of his Mercenary allies get some enticing new options in “The Kingmaker’s Army.” Speaking of kings, have you read Skull Island eXpeditions’ The Blood of Kings by Douglas Seacat? If you have, you’ll enjoy the historical scenario within. If you haven’t, what are you waiting for? Then there’s the new-edition battle report, which premieres the recently released small-table Rumble format. You can also learn a lot about Cygnar’s new warcaster Beth Maddox in the newest “Gavyn Kyle Files.” If building terrain is your thing, this issue also includes the first of a new series that will lead you through building an entire table of useful terrain types. Iron Kingdoms Uncharted also kicks off in this issue. It’s a pirate-themed expansion for the Iron Kingdoms Roleplaying Game presented in serial form. You’ll find lots of information about life on the Meredius, offering a new perspective on the people of the Iron Kingdoms. If you like the IKRPG, you won’t want to miss this series! There’s much more, of course, but I’ve nattered on long enough. Let’s get to it.
Lyle Lowery Editor-in-Chief No Quarter
Do you have a question for No Quarter or the crew at Privateer Press? Send us a letter with your question or any other suggestions or comments you have! Email your letters to
[email protected], tweet @privateerpress using the hashtag #NQLetters, or send us a message on the No Quarter Facebook page.
10
Editorial
Community Spotlight To many, WARMACHINE and HORDES are more than just games. They represent a community to share experiences with, a world to immerse in, and a hobby to express themselves through. Community Spotlight celebrates the incredible artistic work of the community, whether it is manifest through models for the tabletop or in fantastic creations beyond the tabletop.
Aaron Gordon Braaten of Everett, Washington, brought the Iron Kingdoms to life by building two exquisite, life-sized Rathroks! Braaten made the axes as a raffle prize to support a WARMACHINE event called “Battle for Breath” that raised funds for Cystic Fibrosis Canada. The event, organized by Fraser Belfour, raised over $4,000 for the charity.
Said Braaten: “Rathrok was created to give back to a community that likes to help others. I am always impressed by the willingness of the WARMACHINE/HORDES community to help those in need, and I like being a part of that culture. I am not a tournament-level player, so I may not be able to teach gamers how to win, but there is a creative side to WARMACHINE and HORDES, and it is in that creative side that I feel I can contribute. I also hope very much to inspire others to show off what they can make from the Iron Kingdoms.” His craftsmanship is another example of how WARMACHINE and HORDES continue to give passionate people a creative outlet to express themselves for big causes, whether it’s with their mastery of the game, their painting skills, or by making fantastical weapons a bit more real. We can’t wait to see what you create next!
Community spotlight
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News News From from the the Front Front European Masters Series Crowns the First European Champion By Jason Enos For many years now, Privateer Press EU has been developing a hugely ambitious Organized Play concept spanning the continent: officially sponsored WARMACHINE and HORDES National Masters tournaments in countries across Europe. After many years, we have reached the point where 16 countries hold their own National Masters events, so we were finally ready to unveil what our efforts had been leading up to: the European Masters Series, an invitational for all the champions of European Nationals in one tournament to crown an official European Masters champion.
I not only saw Prague and Brno, but I also got to take a train across the country to really experience what a different place I was in. All because of WARMACHINE! Black Oil Gaming & Social Hub was an excellent choice for this initial European Masters Championship. Our host, Vladimir Kokolia (original Czech Press Ganger!), and his staff went above and beyond welcoming every single attendee. I was not going to go all the way to the Czech Republic and not throw dice! I was able to get a couple games in and had an absolute blast. My opponents, Gary Moore and Ondřej Wachsmuth, were great sports, and I know they’re both eager for a rematch.
The champions were invited to Brno, the second largest city in the Czech Republic, where the excellent Black Oil Gaming & Social Hub hosted the first European Masters Championship. Obviously, the champions came from all across Europe, but some surprises awaited us, like Martin Hornáček (of Skorne and Slovakia fame) coming as champion of Ireland, and the French earning two invitations. Black Oil provided the champions free food and beer for the weekend, and the players happily indulged while discussing the upcoming event and the new editions. We were lucky to have Privateer Press sculptor Doug Hamilton visit all the way from Seattle, bringing models, images, and stories for the attendees. Doug also had a lot to say about some of the Factions in the new editions and managed to play a few games over the weekend. Doug Hamilton says: Visiting the Czech Republic for European Masters was an absolute privilege. Never in my wildest steam-powered dreams did I think I would end up in Brno as guest of honor for such an event. The opportunity to represent Privateer Press in such a unique location was an amazing experience.
12
News from the front
Saturday was the first day of gaming, and as you might imagine, all the champions were eager to play. The first games were for a last-chance qualifier—a simple knockout event to earn one final place in the championship tournament. In the finals, Kévin Maeder managed to squeak out a victory over Andreas Holm by deathclock. Andreas just needed a few more seconds to roll the damage on his assassination run when he suddenly ran out of time. This put three French men in the Championship—certainly a good showing! The theme of the event was centered around the national champions, so each was given a series of button pins as
“wound markers.” The other attendees could challenge the champions to games and earn a wound marker if they successfully defeated the champion. Prizes were awarded to the attendees for the wound markers they earned, and any undefeated champions could likewise claim a prize. After a day of gaming and wound marker claiming, everyone enjoyed a Q&A session with Doug. During the session, Doug showed off a Lys Healer and a new character warpwolf. Afterward, it was time for a barbeque in Black Oil’s Courtyard before the mayhem of the painting competition. Doug Hamilton says: One of the most exciting moments for me was the opportunity to show off some new WARMACHINE and HORDES sculpts that had not been seen outside of the studio. After doing a Q&A session with all of the attendees, I was able to share new models, which included two new character beasts for Circle Orboros and Legion of Everblight’s Loki and Azrael. Also shown were two solos, the Nyss Warlord and the Lyss Healer. A Black Oil tradition, the painting event is like no other. Competitors paint a provided model in the given time, similar to a speed painting competition, but every time a competitor cleans his or her brush, he/she must take a shot of rum. After some fantastic painting and much agonizing over the time needed to clean a brush, I can say—with some
Master Mathieu Tamagne and his Cryx Army. In the final round, it was the Netherlands champion Sascha Maisel against Florian Hartman, the Czech champion, in an all-Legion final. Sascha Maisel Lylyth, Shadow of Everblight Naga Nightlurker Nephilim Bolt Thrower Ravagore x2 Zuriel Spawning Vessel Strider Deathstalker x2 The Forsaken Blighted Nyss Shepherd x2 Totem Hunter Florian Hartman Vayl, Consul of Everblight Angelius x3 Ravagore x2 Seraph Shredder Spawning Vessel Blighted Nyss Shepherd x2 Many thought the matchup favored Sascha’s Lylyth 2 list, but Florian made some bold and aggressive plays to make a fight of it. In the end, Sascha’s battle of attrition was too much, and Florian conceded after losing most of his army. With the victory, Sascha was crowned the first official European Champion! With Florian Hartman, Mathieu Tamagne, and Christoffer Wedding all sitting at one loss, it came down to strength-ofschedule to determine their final placing. Mathieu Tamagne placed second and Black Oil hall-of-famer Christoffer Wedding finished third, with Florian Hartman ending up with a fourth-place result. If you want to play in the European Masters Championship next year, you can earn an invitation by winning any of the European National Masters events. You just might be the next European champion! Doug Hamilton says:
certainty—all participants had a good time. Luckily, all the players recovered from the big first day by the morning! On Sunday, our champions were raring to play for the European title. As we had an odd number of champions, Black Oil provided a “local champion,” Jiří Kareš (who likes to go by the name Mr_Out). Unexpectedly, Kareš triumphed over one of the favorites, Martin Hornáček. World Team Championship-winning team member Tatu Purhonen also lost his first-round game.
Congratulations to Sascha Maisel on his win and to all of the competitors of this first European Masters Series! I look forward to next year’s tournament, and I cannot wait to see my European friends again. With the assistance of Greek champion Panagiotis Ntemiris, I have already had my nationality changed...“We are Greek.” Massive thanks to Bob Watts for not only making this event possible but also a great success and for helping this WARMACHINE player’s dream to see Europe come true.
By the third round, Swedish champion Christoffer Wedding and his Retribution Army had finally recovered from the previous night’s painting competition to knock out French
News from the Front
13
14
Gavyn Kyle
ski & rz rutkow o g e z g , n ó r Ossand rt by Nésto A • l e d u R . Wilson By Aeryn Matthew D
Major Elizabeth Maddox
Major Elizabeth Maddox is a fascinating figure in the Cygnaran military, and her recent rise to prominence has been quite unusual. Your request for information about her past is not surprising, given the way Cygnaran authorities have been making use of her story as a prisoner of war of the Protectorate of Menoth. Major Maddox only recently escaped from the Protectorate, and though she has been returned to active duty, she is serving a significant secondary role as a recruitment tool for the Cygnaran military.
She is the central figure in a propaganda campaign aimed at increasing the army’s positive perception among the Cygnaran people. Why the monarchy and military leadership in Cygnar feel this is necessary is a question I will endeavor to answer. The question might arise whether this atmosphere has resulted in an exaggeration of her capabilities, or whether any of her accomplishments might have been fabricated altogether. This, too, is a question worth answering. —GK
Major Maddox Summary
576 AR: Elizabeth Maddox is born to Jacob and Carolyn Maddox in a small farming commu nity between King’s Vine and Eastwall. 591 AR: At the age of fifteen, Maddox joins the local militia. A skirmish with a group of farro w results in an incident that draws the attention of the Inquisition. 593 AR: At the age of seventeen, Maddox quali fies for training as a member of the Stormblade infan try. She completes the training that same year and is inducted as a Storm Knight. 595 AR: Promoted to sergeant. 599 AR: Promoted to lieutenant. 602 AR: Receives the Star of Valor for bravery for her actio ns in a skirmish with Cryxian raide rs. Promoted to captain. Late 604–early 605 AR: Warcaster ability manif ests amid border tensions before the beginning of the Llaelese War. Maddox is sent to the Strategic Acade my in Point Bourne to undergo warcaster training. She completes her training early in the new year. 605 AR: Maddox is assigned to Captain Vanin Harkus for her journeyman tour and redeployed in
Llael with Commander Stryker’s Storm Divis ion. Her journeyman tour is declared completed after Cygnar’s withdrawal from Llael midway through the year, at which time she is promoted to full warca ster. 606 AR: Involved in the vicious fighting withi n Sul during the first half of the Caspia-Sul War. Eleme nts of her company are ambushed by Protectorat e warcaster Thyra, Sorrow of the Flame, and almos t completely wiped out. Maddox is taken priso ner. 606–610 AR: Briefly held and interrogated at an inter nment camp southeast of Sul where she was subjected to torture and interrogation at the hands of Protectorate scrutators. Transferred sever al months later to a temple priso n called Guhrs in in Varhdan province. Late 610 AR: Maddox breaks out of the temple priso n and evades Protectorate patrols to get closer to the Black River and the Cygnaran border. Her escap e comes to the attention of Scout General Bolde n Rebald, who dispatches agents to aid her retur n, including Captain Jeremiah Kraye. 611 AR: Maddox is promoted to major and becom es the central figure in a propaganda campaign aimed at improving the Cygnaran public perception of the military.
Gavyn Kyle
15
Elizabeth Maddox was born in a small farming community called Hallow Field located between the city of King’s Vine and the fortress of Eastwall on the eastern border of Cygnar. Her father was a wheat farmer whose crops were largely sold to the garrison at Eastwall, and Maddox grew up working the family stead with her father and two younger brothers. The land outside of King’s Vine and Eastwall can be a wild place—bandits, marauding bands of farrow, and even hostile kriels of trollkin are an ever-present problem. Not surprisingly, the many small communities in this area have learned they cannot rely solely on protection from King’s Vine and Eastwall, and a well-trained and disciplined militia was established to protect the farms and homesteads in and around Hallow Field. The Maddox extended family kept up a tradition of serving in the local militia, clearly a matter of pride. This tradition extended to Elizabeth’s grandfather, several aunts and uncles, and her father, Jacob Maddox, who also encouraged all of his children to join. Able-bodied farmhands and other laborers also frequently assisted, making this a significant communal bond. Jacob trained his daughter and two sons in the basics of swordplay and small-unit tactics. Elizabeth put this training to good use and joined the militia at the age of fifteen. There is evidence she partook in a number of violent exchanges with bandits and farrow as part of the militia. It is important to note that Maddox’s warcaster abilities did not fully manifest until she was much older, though there were signs of her gift—which drew potentially dangerous attention—as the following letter suggests. —GK Date: Trineus 12th, 591 AR To: Senior Inquisitor Vernon Manderly From: Inquisitor Hasper Dray Manderly, I have recently received a report from Militia Lieutenant Dayle Osmer concerning an incident with a young volunteer from the community of Hallow Field. I will summarize the lieutenant’s report. A small force of soldiers was sent from Eastwall to assist local militia in Hallow Field that was attempting to root out a marauding band of farrow. They managed to corner the farrow in a small ravine and a pitched battle ensued. The lieutenant states that one of the daughters of his neighbor, a young woman named Elizabeth Maddox, “unleashed a cloud of lightning” to strike down two farrow warriors threatening her father, also a member of the militia. He was not the only witness.
Suspecting this girl might be a sorcerer, I immediately went to her family’s farmstead to submit her to our testing protocol. I interviewed her family first, and they did not attempt to hide the fact that the incident occurred, though they seemed legitimately surprised that it had and were frightened for their daughter. I believe they were honest in suggesting this was the first time anything like this had happened. There was some uncertainty as to whether Elizabeth was the source of the lightning. Under additional questioning, it was admitted that something akin to runes may have appeared around Elizabeth at the same time this “miraculous intervention” took place. This correlates with sorcerous awakenings we have encountered in the past. Despite her parents’ fears, I was given full access to Elizabeth, and she was instructed to cooperate with my testing. The results were not what I expected. I was unable to elicit the typical sorcerous outburst despite applying emotional pressure, a good sign that something else was at play. Utilizing techniques I know are practiced by the Strategic Academy, I exposed Elizabeth to a minor mechanikal apparatus, in this case the optical assembly taken from a laborjack. During the most intense portion of the interview, this device briefly glowed despite being disconnected from its accumulator, suggesting a connection. While I was unable to replicate this effect, I believe this suffices to strongly suggest Elizabeth has the warcaster talent and is not a sorcerer. The talent may rest dormant within her. This is an opportunity I recommend we seize. I intend to remain in contact with the family and Elizabeth and will attempt to unlock this dormant talent. I have studied the Strategic Academy’s methods closely and believe my methods should bear fruit. If successful, I will lay the foundation to recruit Elizabeth into the Inquisition, where she could be a powerful asset to our organization. —Hasper Dray
16
Gavyn Kyle
Inquisition records suggest Dray was given tentative authorization to proceed with his plans, so long as it did not affect his other duties. He visited Maddox more than two-dozen times over the next two years. He was allowed to attempt his unorthodox mentoring, and clearly the Inquisition hoped to secure a warcaster for their use. Oddly, his reports adopt a familial tone in the second year, and I believe he became genuinely interested in the wellbeing of Elizabeth Maddox. I was almost disappointed to see nothing sinister in his approach. Perhaps this is why he failed, as from all accounts it seems Maddox did not manifest arcane abilities during this period. Near the end, Elizabeth Maddox decided to enlist in the Cygnaran Army, and Dray encouraged this decision in the hope that the stresses of training for battle might awaken the talent he was convinced she possessed.
I can find no record of Inquisitor Hasper Dray beyond this date, leaving me to wonder if he returned to Caspia as instructed. It is interesting that Dray, by all accounts a skilled inquisitor and one who had studied the work of others within the Cygnaran military, was unable to awaken her talents. This may simply suggest the elusive nature of the warcaster ability. We know that each nation expends considerable efforts to locate, secure, and train such individuals, but they are not always successful.
Date: Cinten 3rd, 593 AR
Still, the tone of his later reports leads me to an interesting, if largely unsupported, conjecture. Is it possible Dray developed an attachment to Maddox that compelled him to hide evidence of her ability and direct her toward what he saw as the safest path? Did he have a falling out with his peers and change his mind on encouraging her to join the Inquisition? Given the timing, this might indeed have saved her from a potentially disastrous fate. Within the year, Prince Leto would commit to the Lion’s Coup and soon thereafter the Inquisition was disbanded, at which point its members were either arrested or went underground. The fact that Maddox joined the Stormblades at the age of seventeen largely insulated her from being caught up in any of this.
To: Inquisitor Hasper Dray
—GK
His superiors were initially in favor of this, but their patience was soon exhausted. As the next letter indicates, they were also not pleased that she qualified for the Cygnaran Storm Knights, an organization the Inquisition suspected of harboring improper loyalties.
From: Senior Inquisitor Vernon Manderly Dray, I have read your recent reports regarding the progress of Subject E. Maddox and your request to continue monitoring. I am dismayed to find that you have yet to produce the least shred of evidence of her ability, despite two years of effort. Worse yet, she has apparently qualified for training as a Storm Knight. I need not remind you that this organization has proven its loyalties and goals are not necessarily aligned with the interests of our king. In short, you have failed to sufficiently prove this girl even has the warcaster talent, and, in the unlikely case she does, you have failed to foster in her the aspiration to join the Inquisition, as had been initially proposed. Your request for continued monitoring is denied, and you are hereby summoned to Caspia for an immediate inquest into your activities over the last two years.
Over the next six years, Maddox distinguished herself as a member of the Stormblade infantry. She climbed the ranks quickly and was promoted to sergeant in 595, following the Lion’s Coup, and then to lieutenant four years later in 599. These years before the start of the Llaelese War were relatively quiet ones for Cygnar, making Maddox’s rapid ascension that much more impressive. Records indicate she was part of numerous small skirmishes with Khador along the northern border early in her career. Here she acquired a reputation as both a skilled warrior and an effective battle leader. There is nothing during this time similar to the incident that drew attention from the Inquisition, no further manifestations of her ability. In fact, further research only unearthed one account that might indicate her future as a warcaster, a protracted skirmish with Cryxian forces on the western coast of Cygnar, north of Highgate. —GK
—Vernon Manderly
Gavyn Kyle
17
Date: Doloven 24th, 602 AR To: Major Ellery Foster From: Captain Garvin Tews Major, As you are aware, elements of my company were recently called into action to defend the coastal town of Langmore against a sizable force of Cryxian raiders. I was personally in command of the Stormblades defending Langmore, and as you know, our intelligence did not account for the presence of a necrotech and a Slayer helljack among them. You have read the action report which details the extreme courage and valor of Lieutenant Elizabeth Maddox, but such reports often fail to communicate the gravity of such events. I tell you, Lieutenant Maddox charged that Slayer without regard for her own safety with the sole intent of defending her men. She went toe-to-toe with the helljack, fighting it alone and keeping it occupied while those it had injured were dragged away to safety. She somehow managed to damage the thing badly enough that we brought it down without further casualties. I’ve never seen the like. I hereby recommend Lieutenant Elizabeth Maddox for the Star of Valor in recognition of her extreme courage and valor in the face of the enemy. Lieutenant Maddox has served at her present rank for three years, and during that time has proven herself one of the most capable officers under my command. I believe her exemplary service is deserving of early promotion and that she should be entrusted to lead a company of her own. —Captain Garvin Tews As this letter attests, Maddox’s bravery and skill at this time are uncontestable. The report is remarkable given it is difficult to imagine a single Stormblade engaging in an extended battle with a heavy warjack and surviving, let alone critically damaging such a machine. I would suggest it likely this victory was made possible by a subtle manifestation of Maddox’s latent warcaster abilities. I have reviewed enough reports of those with this talent to suggest there are times such individuals draw on these powers without realizing it. It seems no one else in the Cygnaran military made this same connection, and there are no further records of the incident. —GK Maddox was, indeed, promoted to captain after this incident and served at that rank until her recent promotion. Two years later, she was deployed with the rest of the Storm Division to Llael in the weeks
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Gavyn Kyle
leading up to what would become the Llaelese War. It was only at this time—eleven years after Inquisitor Dray first suspected its existence—that her warcaster talent manifested. The incident is similar to the one that initially drew the attention of the Inquisition. Prior to the full invasion, there were a number of skirmishes along the border as patrols encountered Khadorans. During one of these, Maddox unleashed a barrage of lightning that momentarily disrupted the cortex of a Khadoran warjack. Just as full war broke out and even as Llael’s western border defenses collapsed, Maddox was sent to the Strategic Academy in Point Bourne to undergo accelerated warcaster training, which she completed early in 605 AR. As is typical in a time of war, her training was expedited to get her on the battlefield as quickly as possible. She began her journeyman tour and was redeployed back to Llael, where the fighting had been going poorly for both Cygnar and its allies in the Llaelese Army. During her journeyman tour, Maddox frequently came into conflict with her warcaster supervisor, Captain Harkus. This prompted the following letter to Commander Coleman Stryker, his own superior. —GK Date: Casteus 12th, 605 AR To: Commander Coleman Stryker From: Captain Vanin Harkus Commander, Attached to this letter is a formal reprimand of Captain Elizabeth Maddox for insubordination. We are at war, and Captain Maddox’s incessant questioning of my training methods and battle plans is both counterproductive and dangerous. Captain Maddox is the third warcaster that has served a journeyman tour with me, and my experience in this area is, I believe, well established. Furthermore, I would like to request Captain Maddox be transferred to another warcaster as I do not believe this assignment is achieving the desired effect. —Captain Vanin Harkus As this next letter suggests, Commander Stryker took a different view of Maddox’s conflict with Captain Harkus.
Date: Casteus 16th, 605 AR To: Captain Vanin Harkus From: Commander Coleman Stryker Captain, I have read your official reprimand of Captain Maddox, considered the events you describe as insubordination, and spoken with third party witnesses. It is my determination that Captain Maddox’s actions do not constitute insubordination, and there will be no formal reprimand. I also deny your request to have Captain Maddox taken off your hands. You need to find a way to come to a better working accord. I believe the friction between you and Captain Maddox stems from your lack of respect for her tenure and experience. She is a combat veteran with over ten years of distinguished service with the Stormblades, and though she is new to the role of warcaster, she is hardly new to the role of soldier and battlefield commander. I advise you to consider her opinions and advice as you would an officer’s of equal rank and superior battlefield experience. Her manner is different from your own, but I have seen her in action and find no fault in her leadership. —Commander Coleman Stryker
Stryker’s clear admiration for Maddox’s abilities and service in this letter marks the beginning of a strong relationship between the two warcasters that appear to have served them well during this conflict. Maddox earned recognition as a full warcaster just before Cygnar’s withdrawal from Llael, completing her journeyman tour. This was once again an abbreviated term, but this is not unusual for someone of her experience. —GK Like many in the Storm Division, Maddox joined Lord Commander Coleman Stryker in ongoing conflicts versus the Protectorate of Menoth to the south. Major Brisbane breached the walls of Sul under Stryker’s orders, and the Cygnaran Army soon invaded the Menite city. This marked the beginning of the Caspia-Sul War, a conflict that would eventually have tragic consequences for Elizabeth Maddox. Captain Maddox was front and center in the vicious street-to-street fighting within Sul. Records indicate she led her battle group supported by Storm Knights to assault a number of heavily fortified Protectorate positions. Late in 606 AR, while on a mission to reclaim several contentiously defended streets, Maddox was ambushed by the Protectorate warcaster called Thyra, Flame of Sorrow. The following report to Lord Commander Stryker details the aftermath of the battle.
Gavyn Kyle
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Date: Rowen 14th, 606 AR
Date: Khadovus 9th, 606 AR
To: Commander Coleman Stryker
To: Senior Scrutator Sovereign Taro Ad-Vaka
From: Captain Garvin Tews
From: Scrutator Potentate Gaius Shorn
Lord Commander,
Sovereign,
Captain Harkus led a reinforcing force of Stormblades and Storm Guard to the area where elements of the 33rd Storm Knight Company were ambushed by a Protectorate warcaster. Despite our best efforts, we failed to reach Captain Maddox’s position in time to change the outcome of the battle, thwarted by Protectorate forces controlling the region. There were a handful of survivors whom we eventually recovered. They said Captain Maddox was fighting the Menite warcaster personally when she was last seen. There were no witnesses to her fall, and no body was recovered.
The Cygnaran warcaster captured in the recent conflict in the holy city of Sul has proven unexpectedly resistant to my interrogation. The woman shows an inordinate degree of both physical and mental fortitude, and, I must say, impressive strength of will. Would that she had found the true faith and fought in the name of the Lawgiver rather than adhering to lesser doctrines.
It is my belief that Captain Maddox was most likely captured. We can’t be sure until we can do a thorough search of the area, which doesn’t seem likely in the near future. We can’t give up on her yet, sir. We both know Maddox is tough; we must proceed with the expectation that she survived. —Captain Garvin Tews My research shows that Lord Commander Stryker believed Captain Tews’ report and conclusions, and the search for Captain Maddox did not end. Unfortunately, the state of the conflicts combined with the difficulties of searching inside hostile territory resulted in the failure of these searches. Eventually, they were scaled back, as more pressing matters took priority. From reports I saw, the Cygnaran Reconnaissance Service remained on the lookout for clues but adopted a largely passive approach. —GK After Cygnar’s retreat from Sul and the subsequent invasion of Caspia by Protectorate forces led by Hierarch Voyle, the search for Captain Maddox was largely abandoned, and most senior officers gave her up for dead. Of course, it is now established she was captured and sent to be interrogated by scrutators and eventually sent to the temple prison of Guhrsin deep within the Protectorate interior. I need not recount the terrible methods used by the scrutators to extract information from political prisoners, but suffice to say, they were used upon Captain Maddox. The following report from the scrutator in charge of her interrogation reveals she resisted the awful ministrations of her captors longer than anticipated.
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I believe she has information that could be crucial to future war efforts, and I will begin a more concerted effort to draw it out. I will turn to more extreme methods of interrogation, including more invasive mortification of the flesh. I will endeavor to keep her alive during this more strenuous phase, as I know she is a prisoner of considerable value. I will immediately pass on any useful information gained as I proceed with my interrogations. The letter above certainly paints a dire picture of the time Maddox spent as a prisoner of war, but it is the next report, the last I could find about her, that truly brings home the misery she endured. Date: Tempes 7th, 607 AR To: Senior Scrutator Sovereign Taro Ad-Vaka From: Scrutator Potentate Gaius Shorn Sovereign, I believe I have all that the information the Cygnaran warcaster has to give. The last two interrogations produced nothing of use, and the woman’s sanity may not withstand further questioning. I will cease further interrogation, and I believe she is strong enough to recover from the measures we used to extract information. I suggest relocating her to Guhrsin Temple Prison in Varhdan, where we can keep her imprisoned indefinitely. I believe she will be worth the cost of sustaining, in case there arises a future need for her knowledge or should we need to negotiate some future prisoner exchange.
We know Maddox languished in a Protectorate cell for over three years. Her own account of this time states she was not subjected to further torture, though being shut away in the dark, alone, and surrounded by other dejected prisoners is a torture all its own.
Date: Ashtoven 1st, 610 AR
Of course, one must ask if she gave up state secrets to the Protectorate at this time. I think there is no doubt she did, and who could blame her? Scrutators have untold centuries of experience at their ghoulish work, and no one could resist their expert attentions long. Only the skorne paingivers exceed the scrutators in this field. As it required months to break her spirit, it seems unlikely the Protectorate gained any advantage from this. The relevance of military reports would have been diminished by this time. Certainly she would have known little else the scrutators could bend to their advantage. This fact at least afforded her escape from additional torture, though I doubt that was much comfort during her long imprisonment. A lengthy stay in a Protectorate prison is a fate I would not wish on anyone.
It has come to my attention through a contact living in the town of Hala in Varhdan Province that the nearby temple prison of Guhrsin has experienced some sort of crisis. Despite efforts to keep this quiet, I have learned there were casualties, and several prisoners escaped. While we have never gained access to this prison, it has received closely guarded transfers in the past. This may be just the break we had been looking for. Given the security measures at such places, the escape strikes me as noteworthy.
By late 608 AR, all but a few believed Maddox long dead. Luckily, one of the strongest advocates that she had been captured instead of killed was Lord General Coleman Stryker. He used his considerable pull with King Leto Raelthorne to maintain the search for Maddox, albeit it appears only limited resources were actually allocated.
To: Scout General Bolden Rebald From: Lieutenant Nora Yewfield Sir,
There is an unconfirmed rumor that one of the escaped prisoners is an arcanist of some skill. Based on existing intelligence and considering our list of high profile subjects MIA or thought possibly captured for the Vassals of Menoth, this arcanist might be one of the following: Illuminated One Jascin Piers, Koldun Sergey Vikoth, or Captain Elizabeth Maddox. I will seek additional information and await further orders. —Yewfield
The search fell to the overworked Cygnaran Reconnaissance Service, though it is clear they lacked the manpower to commit to it fully. Scout General Bolden Rebald adopted the strategy of assigning the search for Maddox as a secondary goal for all agents and contacts in the Protectorate of Menoth. Therefore, spies and other sources of information in the region on other tasks were instructed to keep an ear out for anything that might hint at Maddox’s presence or other prisoners of war. It was not until late 610 AR that the following report from a CRS agent in the field was sent, which has been decoded for your ease of reading.
Gavyn Kyle
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While I was not able to secure definitive intelligence on what happened next, I was able to piece together scattered and vague reports to reconstruct what I believe to be the likely chain of events. It would seem these prisoners managed to evade Protectorate patrols and somehow made it nearly two hundred miles from their former prison to reach a village closer to the Black River and the Cygnaran border. While this was transpiring, it seems Captain Jeremiah Kraye was dispatched with limited support into the Protectorate interior to find them. Kraye came upon the scene of a battle in progress between Temple Flameguard and the escaped arcanist. Despite her emaciated and ragged appearance, the warcaster recognized Captain Elizabeth Maddox. Kraye aided Maddox in dispatching the Protectorate forces and helped escort her and several other prisoners back across the river to arrive safely in Cygnar. When she had recovered from her harrowing ordeal, Maddox was debriefed in Caspia. There is mention of this debriefing, but I could secure no official transcript. From what I have unearthed, Maddox engineered her own escape—the details are murky—and made her heroic crossing of the barren Protectorate interior. It is remarkable that Maddox not only escaped Guhrsin on her own but was also able to cross half the Protectorate and then fight off her pursuers long enough to win her freedom, all without benefit of warcaster armor, her mechanikal weapons, or warjacks. Warcaster or no, this was quite a feat, one that is—as far as I am aware—unprecedented. —GK Maddox remained in Caspia after freeing herself from the Protectorate. Shortly after her escape, she began sending formal requests to her superiors that she be allowed to resume active duty. All of these requests were denied on the grounds she was not mentally prepared for the rigors of active duty. Maddox was not alone in the belief that she should be allowed to resume her career. Stormblade Captain Garvin Tews, who seems to know her better than anyone—there is evidence of a romantic relationship from before her capture—sent the following letter to Birk Kinbrace. As commander of the Strategic Academy, it fell to Kinbrace to evaluate her mental condition and readiness to return to duty.
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Date: Glaceus 14th, 611 AR To: Commander Adept Birk Kinbrace From: Captain Garvin Tews Sir, I know you have denied Captain Maddox’s previous requests to return to active duty, and, if I may be so bold, sir, I think this is a grave mistake. Whereas Captain Maddox’s body has healed, her mind has not. I know you agree with me, and I know that is why you have denied her requests, but as one soldier to another, I tell you what is best for Captain Maddox is to return to what she had devoted her life to: protecting Cygnar from its enemies. I have served with Captain Maddox for over a decade, and I may know her better than anyone. I ask that you give her what she needs to heal, serving alongside the men and women she nearly gave her life to protect. —Tews Captain Tews’ letter seems to have had some of the desired effect, in that it began a discussion among the upper echelons of the Cygnaran military regarding Captain Maddox. The result of this discussion is likely not what Tews and certainly not what Maddox had in mind. This address read to the Cygnaran Royal Assembly by Scout General Bolden Rebald on Casteus 2nd, 611 AR, outlines their plans for Captain Maddox. Lords and Ladies, Many of you are aware that one of Cygnar’s finest soldiers and warcasters was returned to us after a harrowing ordeal as a Protectorate prisoner of war. Her name is Captain Elizabeth Maddox, and the suffering she has endured in the name of our great nation cannot be overstated. Now, only a few months after her escape from the torturous ministrations of Protectorate scrutators, she wants nothing more than to return to active duty and once again risk life and limb in the defense of Cygnar.
Before we send Major Maddox back to the front lines, I believe we should send her home. Let her travel through our great nation, tell her story, and show the Cygnaran people they are protected by men and woman of unbreakable character, will, and courage. This address to the Royal Assembly kicked off a propaganda campaign that sent Maddox around Cygnar to meet and speak with the general populace. Its aim was quite clear. Unceasing war both at home and abroad had soured the nation’s view of their military, and Maddox’s inspiring story was a chance to win back some of that favor. If you will recall the question I posed at the beginning of this dossier, one must ask why Rebald and the leaders of the Cygnaran military felt it was vitally important to change the people’s perception of the military. Unfortunately, I do not have a concrete answer, but if I were to guess, I would say Cygnar is gearing up for a significant military endeavor that will require the support of its people. Rebald’s campaign has been incredibly effective, and Major Maddox has become a celebrated war hero throughout Cygnar. From the numerous letters and reports I have read, it is quite clear Major Maddox resents her role as a propaganda piece. Despite this, voluntary enlistment in the military has apparently increased since she began her tour. One question I think I have ably answered in this dossier is that Major Maddox’s military prowess is not in any way overblown. This is a soldier and warcaster possessed of great skill, intelligence, and will. Of course, what effect her imprisonment might have upon these abilities is hard to predict. For the moment, it appears as though Maddox’s experiences did not break her but in fact only strengthened her fighting resolve. Still, I am certain countless scars remain, and only time will tell whether she was returned to active duty prematurely. —GK
How can we deny such a noble request? We cannot, and I am happy to report Captain Maddox will be immediately returned to active duty and also promoted to the rank of major. I speak to you today because I believe Major Maddox has more to offer than her service. Her story is a beacon of hope and strength for all of Cygnar. The people of Cygnar have grown weary of war, and their attitude toward the military has shifted unfavorably. I believe we can win back their trust and favor by showing them the very best the military has to offer, to introduce them to a woman who signifies the courage and nobility inherent in so many of our soldiers.
Gavyn Kyle
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By Mike Vaillancourt In the last issue of No Quarter, I discussed the visual evolution of art between the different editions of WARMACHINE and HORDES, primarily looking at art for WARMACHINE: Prime. Now I’ll dig into the new art for HORDES: Primal to explain the processes and work that went into updating the art for the Factions of HORDES. We’ll begin with a quick look at one of the biggest pieces of art for the new editions, which features one of WARMACHINE’s newest warcasters, Major Elizabeth Maddox, and HORDES’ Lord Xekaar.
Cygnar v Skorne Néstor Ossandón and Andrea Uderzo
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inside the art director’s studio
For the new editions, one of our biggest goals was to show how WARMACHINE and HORDES work together. With that in mind, we created a poster with an epic clash between the Trollbloods and Khador, which I discussed in the previous issue of No Quarter. For the second big art piece, we pitted Cygnar against skorne with the goal to show a range of characters. We wanted to be able to crop the piece in a variety of ways, each capturing a different perspective and story each time. The focal point of this work is Cygnaran warcaster Major Beth Maddox and the Skorne warlock Lord Xekaar. This second piece took so much work that it nearly broke our artist Néstor Ossandón.
The visual development process for Major Maddox started with Matt Wilson delivering a finished concept for her character. Next, we fleshed out her poses. Matt sketched up a few and I contributed a few alternates that incorporated Tempest, the new weapon Matt had designed for her.
The pose process for our characters tends to be fairly collaborative where the original artist and I will sketch up a few options. Drawing dynamic poses is a bit of its own art form and something I learned as an aspiring comic book artist. For the miniature, we used pose C, but Andrea used one of Matt’s original pose sketches for Maddox in the final illustration, and it turned out quite nicely.
inside the art director’s studio
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On the opposite side of the battle is Lord Xekaar, fighting alongside his skorne army. Xekaar went through the traditional feedback cycle, and we started with the following initial sketches from Andrea Uderzo.
In this sketch, you can see Andrea’s first three versions. The fourth is my mock up, where I took my favorite elements and combined them. The only downside to my version was the helmet, which had too much of a Legion of Everblight feel. Aside from the helmet, other changes included adding armor to his abdomen, removing armor from his shoulders so they would be bare, and notes for his whips and gauntlets. Matt also suggested keeping the armor on his arms just up to his armpits. Andrea incorporated these changes and sent us back the following:
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inside the art director’s studio
At this point in the process, Andrea began exploring the segmentation of the whips. I absolutely loved the bladed chain-whip idea, but it would have been a nightmare to cast. I knew that would need to be changed. Matt sketched some alternate whip ideas on a flight to Seattle. After describing the whip/chain adjustment to Andrea and sending him a quick sketch, Andrea sent us this:
The winner was #2, but we eliminated the horizontal bead around each of the separating links, covered the ball joint near each tip, and tapered the design so the whip was thicker toward the gauntlet. At this point, we moved on to the final line art and poses. Pose #2 was picked as the winning pose, and in the end, I think we learned a valuable lesson with Xekaar: whips take a lot of careful consideration.
inside the art director’s studio
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Trollbloods
Now, I’ll move on to the Faction that required the largest amount of new art in Primal—the Trollbloods. Their large volume of legacy artwork was nearly ten years old, and it gave me the opportunity to bring more life to our unit illustrations and to show the unit is more than just a couple of figures in a nebulous environment. This was the first Faction I tackled for HORDES, and the kriel warriors were my first priority. If I had my way, Andrea would illustrate all the trollkin, but we live in the real world of deadlines. I immediately assigned Andrea the kriel warriors for Primal. There are very few artists who I trust as much as Andrea, and this is the perfect example of how far that trust goes. Andrea sent me two sketches, and I picked one and received the final a few days later. Yes, he’s that good.
Primal Kriel Warriors Andrea Uderzo
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inside the art director’s studio
Legion of Everblight
For the Legion of Everblight, Roberto Cirillo helped evolve the concept art for the full-fledged warlock version of Fyanna the Lash. Roberto had designed several warlocks and warcasters for us over the years, and I knew he would be the perfect fit for this one. I sent Roberto our concept design description, and a few days later, I received the following sketches:
Just like Xekaar, I combined all the elements I liked most and created sketch D. Then from D, we changed the barbed tail on the head to hair, shrank the spikes on her shoulders and forearms, and adjusted the shape of her kneepads. For her weapon, #4 was selected. The only real challenge for this piece was finding her pose. Having learned our lesson with Xekaar, we opted to keep the weapon in her hand to avoid any casting issues.
inside the art director’s studio
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Now we could update her illustration. To tackle that project, I looked to one of my favorite new artists to work with, Jeremy Chong. After Jeremy delivered an absolutely spectacular piece for the harrier art update (right), I immediately knew he had to be put on higher profile work. For Fyanna’s illustration, I really wanted to see her paired with shredders because they have been in desperate need of representation. I hoped Jeremy would deliver, and he did. My illustration description was: “Flanked by a pair of shredders, Fyanna pauses briefly in the action, whipping her blade through the air. She looks furious and ready to tear apart anyone that gets in her way. The setting is in a lush swampy environment. A low fog and heavy cloud cover gives the appearance of an early morning.”
Primal Harriers Jeremy Chong
In the thumbnail sketches above, you can see how details can be misinterpreted from written descriptions when a new illustrator isn’t familiar with the setting. Jeremy was under the impression that Fyanna was fighting the shredders. Sketch-wise, they are beautiful looking pieces that would be fantastic if she was fighting against shredders. The second problem with the shredders was their size. They were woefully undersized. We discussed these changes, and he created a new piece. With a few quick adjustments, I had a final in hand, and its energy jumped off the page. (For final piece, see next page.)
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inside the art director’s studio
inside the art director’s studio
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Circle Orboros
This next illustration was done as an homage to the old art. Unfortunately, in the final version of Primal we ended up losing the warpwolf that was teleporting due to the crop. So, here is the all-new shifting stones illustration in its undoctored format, side-by-side with the old illustration that it celebrates.
MKII Shifting Stones Andrew Arconti
Minions
The last illustration I’ll be showing here is one that I’ve wanted to update since I first started at Privateer Press, the farrow brigands. I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for the farrow, although I haven’t had many opportunities to give them attention over the years. Finally, I had my chance to give the farrow some love, so I enlisted the help of Carlos Cabrera to update their illustration. I didn’t want to overcomplicate this image; it wouldn’t take much to make the piece more dynamic. My simple illustration description was: “The farrow brigands charge across the field of battle, ready for action. The scene is lit by moonlight and the fires that surround them in battle.” Carlos sent me this sketch, and I immediately knew where he was going with it. Typically, I request three to five black-and-white thumbnail sketches. Carlos sent one, and I immediately knew it was going to be a winner. I responded to his email with a big thumbs-up.
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inside the art director’s studio
Primal Shifting Stones Oscar Cafaro
Next, he sent me the basic color palette establishing the lighting and mood of the piece (right). I was extremely happy with it, and I had zero revisions. I knew that Carlos would address any detail issues while he was working. His next pass and proposed final version looked great, but I really wanted to see the foreground figure get a higher level of rendering (more detail and sharper focus), so I requested that he sharpen the render/focus on the foreground and middle ground farrow and add a bit of a rim light (light around the edge of the figure) to help separate the figures and background from one another. The final piece is shown below.
Primal Farrow Brigands Carlos Cabrera
inside the art director’s studio
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The last piece I’ll leave you with is the illustration for the Trollblood Scattergunners. This illustration doesn’t appear in Primal, but it will replace the Scattergun artwork in the Trollbloods Command book.
Trollblood Scattergunners Andrea Uderzo
These are only a few of the 50+ illustrations from Primal. As much as I’d love to talk about and share each illustration, you’ll simply have to pick up a copy of Primal to see the rest. Oh, and brace yourself for more all-new art—Prime and Primal are just the beginning.
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inside the art director’s studio
By Dan Roman and Micah Scott Ralston Chronicled by Lyle Lowery
The fast and furious new Rumble format gives players a new way to play small games of WARMACHINE and HORDES in a small space and in no time flat! We pitted two players who were new to the format against each other to see how they liked it. Without giving too much away, they thought it was so nice they played it twice! Read about their experiences here, and download the Rumble rules at privateerpress.com/NQ67. This battle report uses the Rumble format and the Patrol scenario. These can be found in the Steamroller 2016 rules document at privateerpress.com.
Battle Report
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Army Construction—Dan
A
s much as I love the spectacle of a massive clashing of armies, I don’t always have the time or space for such a game. I like to play smaller skirmishes, and the new Rumble format caters to just that. I toyed with the idea of fielding my beloved Convergence army for this battle report, but I ultimately settled on something simple, self-sufficient, and straightforward. Enter Orsus Zoktavir, the Butcher of Khardov. The Butcher has been one of my favorite characters on and off the tabletop since I first heard of WARMACHINE. I love a high-casualty attrition game that ends with one warcaster or warlock killing the other. Zoktavir’s offensive and defensive spells epitomize Khador’s strategy of heavy armor and high melee damage. Full Throttle pairs nicely with the new Power Up mechanic, and Fury remains a great way of cracking enemy heavies. And once your army has carved a swath through the enemy, the Butcher is more than capable of killing almost anything he sets his rageclouded mind to. For his battlegroup, the Butcher brought along a Decimator and a Kodiak. Thanks to Power Up and the changes to ROF, the Decimator is a threat in melee or at range, especially on the Butcher’s Feat turn. The Kodiak is quite simply my favorite warjack in the game. It’s focus efficient and relatively maneuverable, at least for a Khadoran ’jack. I rarely take to the field without one. The Winter Guard Infantry are another mainstay of my army. These brave sons and daughters of Khador laugh in the faces of the warpwolves and necrotite-fueled horrors against which I so regularly send them to die. But hey, they’re cheap and pack a wallop. Finally, the Butcher brought along his War Dog to increase his survivability in melee. It is customary for it to say, “Bark bark bark,” as it advances.
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Battle Report
Model/Unit
Points
Orsus Zoktavir, the Butcher of Khardov
+28 WJ
Decimator 16 Kodiak 13 Winter Guard Infantry (10)
11
War Dog
3
Total
15
Battle Report
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Army Construction—Micah
B
uilding a 15-point list for Rumble scenarios provides opportunities and challenges you don’t find in larger games. The action is going to be brutal, cramped, and over quicker than the High Reclaimer’s stand-up career. I was sorely tempted to bring Tyrant Xerxis, as I can see a bruiser like him wreaking absolute havoc in a Rumble. In the end, I eschewed the brute force of Xerxis for the elegance, speed, and surprise of Archdomina Makeda. With a mere 15 points to work with, I knew I couldn’t make a list to prepare for every eventuality. I needed to decide what my list would do and focus all of my efforts on that. I’m a real sucker for narrative list building, so I couldn’t ignore Makeda’s loyal companion, Molik Karn. Between Quicken, Side Step, and Carnage, Molik Karn has the tools to be an accurate, heavy-hitting, and long-reaching envoy of death. Soon it would be time to do what Skorne does best—abuse the ever-living crap out of this poor thing. With 9 warbeast points left, I decided to invest in a Titan Gladiator. Its stamina and beefy body armor makes it a true force to be reckoned with, and its Rush animus would extend the range for Molik Karn to dish out the pain. Paingiver Beast Handlers were another key ingredient in my murder gumbo. They gave me more bodies to contest scenario elements and could remove single-would infantry with Anatomical Precision, and I could afford to play a bit more aggressively with them since they are the only unit in my list able to benefit from Makeda’s feat. Anticipating a situation where I absolutely, positively, could not fail to trigger Side Step, I added a Mortitheurge Willbreaker for Puppet Master. As an added bonus, I could throw the Willbreaker forward to force Molik Karn should the cyclops Side Step his way out of Makeda’s control range. I was left with only one point and only one option . . . the indomitable Swamp Gobber Chef. With a dash of fury management, a pinch of backstabbing, and a very dubious understanding of kitchen knife safety, this little scamp would earn his keep in short order.
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Battle Report
Model/Unit
Points
Archdomina Makeda
+29 WB
Molik Karn
20
Titan Gladiator
14
Mortitheurge Willbreaker
4
Swamp Gobber Chef
1
Paingiver Beast Handlers
5
Total
15
Battle Report
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Rumble Khador—Dan I won the first turn and got ready to rumble. I knew about the 30˝ x 30˝ play area, but I hadn’t quite wrapped my head around the format’s deployment and first turns. With nothing on the table due to neither player having Advance Deployment, I began by advancing each model and unit from my table edge. The Winter Guard Infantry were the vanguard, taking position between the forest and the hill. The Butcher took a spot right behind the Winter Guard, followed by his War Dog. I imagined the second rank of infantry trembling at the guttural snarls just behind them as they tried to discern man from beast. The Kodiak took the left flank where it would remain unhindered by the forest, thanks to Pathfinder. Finally, the Decimator arrived on the right flank, mostly because I thought it would look cool firing from atop the hill.
Round 1 Khador—Dan Now here’s where things get especially interesting in Rumble. Micah had yet to even deploy, and it was time for me to take my first turn. I had the initiative and could set the course of the battle here, but I could also overextend and leave myself open to an alpha strike. But where to move? My advance was uncharacteristically cautious for the Butcher. The Winter Guard Infantry trudged forward, spreading out in search of their foes. One advanced into the zone, while most took to the hill. Zoktavir activated next and cast three upkeep spells. Fury went on the Kodiak, while the Decimator gained the Butcher’s new upkeep spell, Vengeful. Anything attacking the Decimator in melee would risk a rip saw Retaliatory Strike to the face. I hoped this would help keep it free to rain dozer shells on Micah’s forces. Somewhat out of habit, Iron Flesh went to the Winter Guard. This brought them to a respectable ARM 15 and made them immune to blast damage from Makeda’s AOE spell, The Lash. His focus spent, Zoktavir advanced to a position behind the wall of Winter Guard. The Decimator and Kodiak had Powered Up during my Control Phase, so now each ran forward. The Decimator
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took its vantage point on the hill. The Kodiak entered the forest, making sure to stay completely within the terrain to gain the concealment bonus. I love having a War Dog at my warcaster’s side. Guard Dog brings the Butcher to an impressive DEF 16 in melee, and Countercharge has killed a fair number of would-be assassins. Not wanting to lose him early, I kept the War Dog slightly behind the Butcher. My activations completed, I wondered what Micah’s first turn would bring.
Rumble Skorne—Micah As I watched Dan’s forces move onto the table, I saw he had the opportunity to get in my face quickly and make my own deployment more difficult. But I also saw what must surely be a gift from my honored ancestors: a warcaster with no focus fueling his power shield. The Butcher is certainly no slouch, but something primal beckoned me to him, as I sensed a weakness that is abhorrent to the virtue of the Skorne. The hoksune code demanded that I expose and punish such weakness, and so I bent my will to the task at hand. I deployed my forces as close to the encroaching Khadorans as I could with Molik Karn and Makeda leading from the front.
Round 1 Skorne—Micah Makeda called upon the blood of the ancestors that pulsed through her veins and exhorted her warriors to show these interlopers the meaning of Carnage. Her yearning for bloodshed caused Molik Karn to Quicken his pace as she charged toward the nearest Winter Guard soldier with murderous abandon. The Titan Gladiator trumpeted its approval of the impending bloodshed and cast Rush on Molik Karn. Con gusto, the Mortitheurge Willbreaker pulled at the sinews of fate and cast Puppet Strings on Molik Karn. The Paingiver Beast Handlers deftly employed their instruments of pain, enraging Molik Karn as the mighty cyclops charged headlong into a symphony of slaughter. The savagery began to crescendo as Molik Karn flew headlong into the Winter Guard Infantry, effortlessly cutting one down before gracefully spinning through the fray, leaving another soldier dead in his wake. Finding himself face-to-face with the enemy warcaster, Molik Karn ignored the yapping canine nuisance nipping at his heels and bent all of his skill and rage at the once great Orsus Zoktavir. The warbeast’s vision of the future proved true; the War Dog whimpered and pitifully nudged his master’s mangled corpse that lay before Molik Karn’s feet. “Soup’s on!” cried the Gobber Chef in elation. Soup’s on indeed, my friend . . . soup’s on, indeed.
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Conclusion Khador—Dan Oh . . . right. Molik Karn. Despite knowing the kind of threat range the cyclopean champion had, I was still caught off-guard. I had aimed for a defensive screen of Winter Guard Infantry, hoping to goad Karn into an early but largely ineffective charge. Instead, all I achieved was setting up a chain of targets leading directly to the Butcher, which Micah wasted no time in exploiting. Against this heavy-hitting list, Iron Flesh was of little use on the Winter Guard, plus the Paingivers had Anatomical Precision. I might have been able to use a timely Countercharge from the War Dog to block Molik Karn’s path to the Butcher, but I was so intent on preserving the DEF bonus that I never considered sacrificing it. Whereas I’ve no such regret when it comes to sacrificing Winter Guard. Huh. Unsatisfied, I demanded a rematch. And that’s one of the beauties of Rumble—they play so fast there’s always time for another!
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Skorne—Micah Well that couldn’t have gone more according to plan. My strategy to use support models to enable a quick, brutal, and unexpected application of Molik Karn to the Butcher’s damage boxes paid off. The beauty of a Rumble game is that you can go all-out on an assassination, and succeed or fail, you can quickly reset the game and go at it again! Somehow, I think Dan will be more wise to my tricks during our rematch.
Rumble Skorne—Micah Deploying first in a Rumble game is a different experience. In the first game, I was able to study Dan’s deployment and mobilize my forces exactly where I wanted them. For this match, I deployed much more defensively, moving Molik Karn behind a building to protect him from an anticipated hail of gunfire and positioning Makeda and my remaining forces to capture and hold the objective.
Round 1 Skorne—Micah With nothing in sight to murder, I spent my first round advancing to solidify my position and preparing to defend the zone. Since I had the honor of deploying first this time, I was going to do everything in my power to at least make a sticky situation for Dan when he finally joined the party.
Rumble Khador—Dan Micah once again deployed centrally, but his first turn left Molik Karn close to the hut on his side of the battlefield. This limited his charge angles and, consequently, the threat he posed. I therefore made all of my Rumble advances on the right flank, starting with the Decimator. The Winter Guard ranked up next to it, and I capped the line with the Kodiak. The Butcher and his War Dog once again brought up the rear.
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Round 1 Khador—Dan My Decimator Powered Up and ran forward to the far edge of the hill. The Winter Guard received a Press Forward order, allowing them to run or charge. They swarmed over the hill, taking care not to stray into Karn’s path. The Kodiak only shifted slightly as it, too, was just outside of charge range. The Butcher activated next, taking position on the hill between his two warjacks. It wasn’t much of a change from the first game, but I knew I would at least survive the next turn. This time I cast Iron Flesh on the Butcher himself, intending to upkeep it next turn when I would surely be in danger again. Once again, the Kodiak gained Fury and the Decimator gained Vengeful. Bark bark bark, the War Dog followed its master.
Round 2 Skorne—Micah Like a cunning ferox stalking its prey, I lithely approached Dan’s forces. I waited for a moment of weakness I could exploit and pounce, sinking my teeth deep into his army’s jugular. Makeda had shown she could strike swiftly and mercilessly, but today was the day she would show her warriors the virtue of patience and caution.
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Round 2 Khador—Dan Still alive on round 2—already I’m doing much better! Well done, me. My warjacks Powered Up, and The Butcher paid to upkeep all three of his spells. I also measured ranges for the Winter Guard and the Decimator, along with a healthy degree of checking Karn’s new threat area. Still wary of another quick assassination, the Butcher kept the rest of his focus. I kicked things off by advancing the Winter Guard. They paired up to make combined ranged attacks, targeting Micah’s crucial support units. The first three attacks killed their respective targets, removing three Paingiver Beast Handlers. The fourth was nestled away safely, so I turned my attention to the Mortitheurge Willbreaker. The last paired CRA missed, so it fell to the Decimator to finish the job. At last, I was treated to the scene I had been visualizing since the first game’s deployment. The Winter Guard rushed down the slope with battle cries and blunderbuss fire. The Decimator soon drowned them out as it trudged to the hilltop, its massive dozer cannon firing a pair of heavy slugs over their heads. The first slug found a gap in their line and punched clean through the Willbreaker. I wanted to turn the second round against the Swamp Gobber Chef (I’m a monster, I know), but I couldn’t draw line of sight to
him. Instead, I spent my one focus to boost an attack roll against Molik Karn. The cyclops made the most of his cover, though, and easily evaded the shot. The Kodiak couldn’t hide from Karn any longer, so it brought up the left flank. I hoped it would survive the next turn with a few systems intact. I was already regretting casting Vengeful on the Decimator instead of the Kodiak. The Butcher advanced to avoid the line of Side Step-fueling Winter Guard, and the War Dog once again kept close to his heels.
Round 3 Skorne—Micah Having weathered Dan’s assault, it was time for some payback. It was clear that Molik Karn wouldn’t be pirouetting his way to victory this time around, so it was time to shift strategies. I had a pretty good hold on the zone. If I could eliminate some of Dan’s heavy hitters, I might just be able to grind out a scenario win. I had my remaining Beast Handler Enrage Molik Karn before yielding to the Swamp Gobber Chef. Using all the skills of butchery learned in Immoren’s foul swamp cafés and years of repressed anger stemming from his feelings of inadequacy at having failed to become a Swamp Gobber CPA like his father, the Swamp Gobber Chef hacked a Winter Guard trooper to death. Makeda vented her own frustrations by killing a Winter Guard with Lash before casting Carnage. Molik Karn charged the Kodiak and reduced the “testament to Khadoran engineering” to a smoking pile of rubble. The Titan Gladiator charged the Winter Guard Infantry. In a frenzy of fists and tusks, it pulverized two of their number and cleared the zone to dominate for 2 control points.
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Round 3 Khador—Dan Poor Kodiak! Don’t worry, we’ll have the KMA build you back up good as new. If only more Winter Guard had died so that you might have lived! I was behind on control points, but I had two juicy targets to turn into choice cuts of meat. I let Vengeful and Iron Flesh expire. I would miss the extra ARM, but I wanted to be sure I had enough focus to go around. I allocated the Decimator two focus, leaving the Butcher with four. The Winter Guard moved to clear a path, but they still had work to do. A pair lined up a shot at the Gobber, who had slain one of their brothers, but the Chef nimbly dodged. The second volley of rounds also missed, and the last pair of Winter Guard couldn’t line up a shot. Instead, they fired on Molik Karn again, hitting for 4 damage. Now it was time to really get to work. The Butcher activated and unleashed his Feat, Blood Frenzy. Hefting Lola, he charged out from behind the Decimator and cleaved into Molik Karn. Now rolling five dice for damage (thanks to Weapon Master, the charge, and Blood Frenzy), he dealt 17 damage to Karn. I bought another strike, and with 10 more damage, lopped off the mighty cyclops’ head. Feeding off the Butcher’s murderous rage, the Decimator fixed its gaze on the Gladiator and strode into melee. Its
rip saw roared to life and easily dug into the Titan’s bulk. Bolstered by the extra damage die from Blood Frenzy, the first hit did 11 damage. After that, Sustained Attack took over, and in spite of a few rather poor damage rolls on my three purchased attacks, the Titan was soon rendered down to little more than sausage filling. Finally, the War Dog once again ran to a position where it could help keep the Butcher safe. I could have taken out both warbeasts, but Makeda remained a significant threat. At least the Winter Guard were contesting the zone, denying Micah any more control points.
Round 4 Skorne—Micah There is shame in defeat, but there does not need to be shame in death. Realizing that I would not be able to hold out and win on scenario, I decided the only honorable way to proceed was along the path of defiance. Locking eyes with Makeda and hoping to be remembered covered in glory and the blood of the enemy, the lone Beast Handler charged a Winter Guard and neatly severed the Khadoran’s soul from his body. Seeing a chance to be so much more than a short-order chef and to perhaps earn his place in the annals of history, the Swamp Gobber Chef turned his soulful black eyes to the War Dog guarding the enemy warcaster. If he could bring that dog down and give his mistress even the slightest advantage in the coming showdown, his life would not be meaningless. Turning his back on the Khadorans pressing in around him, the stalwart Chef made to charge into the baying maw of destiny. As the Decimator’s unforgiving rip saw
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met Gobber flesh, the Gobber’s mind recalled the last time he had been cut as deeply. Instead of Khadoran steel, he had felt the cruel barb of his mother’s parting words, “You’ll never amount to anything.”
She was right, the Gobber chef thought as his vision blurred and the mocking woofs of the Khadoran hound echoed in his skull. In the end, a meager portion of mercy was served as his mother’s cold words finally died in that blood-stained patch of earth along with the Swamp Gobber Chef. Fearing the oblivion of the Void more than death, Makeda charged bravely at the Butcher, striking again and again to no avail. Exhausted and defeated, Makeda prepared herself for death. Once again I dominated the zone bringing my control point total up to 4, just 1 shy of victory!
Round 4 Khador—Dan I admit, even I was kind of hoping that Swamp Gobber Chef would reach the War Dog. Even if it had cost me the game, it would have been a great showdown. I finally had Makeda where I wanted her, but with Micah sitting at 4 control points, I had to finish this here. The Butcher kept all of his focus, and I rolled his initial attack . . . and the Archdomina nimbly parried the strike. But her luck couldn’t hold, and the next two swings from Lola hacked into Makeda for 10, then 15 damage, ending the game.
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Conclusion Skorne—Micah Well that was a real hoot! I loved how quick and actionpacked the games were and how differently they played without changing our lists at all. I felt all of the nostalgia of my first exposure to WARMACHINE and HORDES. Rumble is a great way to try out a new list, a new Faction, or some real kooky combinations. If something doesn’t work out the way you planned or if something wild happens, you can just roll with it, have fun, and play another round. It has the satisfying crunch of a larger game with the succulent goodness of a casual and narrative format. It reminds me of this fantastic Tatzylwurm Wellington that a chef I knew used to make . . . *sniffle.*
Khador—Dan I think this pair of games demonstrates the range of experiences possible in the new Rumble format. Competitive players will enjoy the puzzle of how best to organize and commit their limited resources. Without the strategic depth of a larger army, losing even a few key pieces can end the game in just a turn or two.
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But that’s what’s so great about Rumble: you get to the meat of the game quickly. With the new editions of WARMACHINE and HORDES still quite fresh to me, I want to get in a lot of games and experiment with new tactical combinations. I can reduce variables and master one element of my army at a time. Meanwhile, I’ll learn the strategies I’ll be on the receiving end of and recalibrate my approach to mitigate their effects as the Maiden guides my works . . . Whoops, sorry. I slipped back into Cyrissism there. To be honest, I’m not really that competitive. For the more casual player like myself, there’s still plenty to love about Rumble. Games are fast and small enough to be played even in my cramped apartment. A smaller force helps put more narrative emphasis on each model, and even the lowliest grunt (or Gobber) has a chance to create a cinematic moment. And finally, it’s a great way to get a quick game in with someone new. I’d never played against Micah before, and I had a great time as we bantered and battled. I look forward to my next game with him, and I expect I’ll be using the Rumble format to meet a lot of new friends at stores and conventions.
Skull Island eXpeditions Plots a Course into the Future With the release this spring of three major titles—“Wrath of the Dragonfather,” The Blood of Kings, and Flashpoint— Skull Island eXpeditions kicks its new publishing plans into high gear. And with the August debut of Tales of the Invisible Hand by Miles Holmes, readers who have previously explored the worlds of the Iron Kingdoms and LEVEL 7 can explore brand-new uncharted territory. “Invisible Hand is a standalone work of fiction,” says Michael G. Ryan, director of publications for Privateer Press. “It’s not based on any of our previously established games or worlds. It’s our first foray into publishing mainstream science fiction and fantasy.” Tales of the Invisible Hand takes readers back to Earth’s ancient history, to a forgotten time when lost civilizations ruled. In the spirit of Robert E. Howard and Edgar Rice Burroughs, Holmes has captured the tempo and feel of a kind of fiction sorely missing in the marketplace. “It’s swashbuckling,” Ryan says. “It’s that fantastic kind of story we all discovered when we read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser the first time. It’s something very new for Skull Island.” But that’s just the beginning of what’s on the horizon. Ryan notes that recent releases laid the foundation for the direction of Skull Island books to come.
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“We’re moving into some bigger stories,” he says. “Major characters. Plots that begin to change the face of the world. We’ve certainly done these kinds of stories before, but we’re now planting our flag firmly in the future. With the new editions of WARMACHINE and HORDES, we’ve moved ahead in time, and the world is both unknown and familiar at the same time.”
Black Dogs continues the story of the Black River Irregulars as established by author Richard Lee Byers in his novella “Murder in Corvis,” currently available at skullislandx.com. When a crime syndicate brings war to the Undercity in order to bring it under the syndicate’s control, the Black River Irregulars become the primary targets for murder. The next book in the series, Black Crowns, is already underway. (September) In The Mark of Caine, Miles Holmes returns to the Iron Kingdoms and to a character he’s written about before in the novella “The Way of Caine.” Ryan describes this book—first in the Hellslingers series—as “a spy thriller.” (October) At long last, Captain Phinneus Shae gets the spotlight shone on him and his crew again in the first of the Privateer series, Watery Graves. Award-winning author Chris A. Jackson has explored these dark waters before in his Warcaster Chronicles novella “Blood and Iron.” (November)
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The Blood of Kings by Douglas Seacat established the new ruling order in Cygnar, and Flashpoint by Aeryn Rudel—the first book in the Acts of War series—laid the foundation for that country’s return to war as an aggressor. In addition to the next book by Rudel, Skull Island’s plans for the remainder of 2016 and 2017 are ambitious and far-reaching.
Additional books in 2016 include a brand-new LEVEL 7 book, Escape, by New York Times best-selling author Peter David— the story that details the initial presence of the alien Ghin on earth—and a second volume of the Iron Kingdoms Omnibus, which will include Douglas Seacat’s popular tale, “At What Cost,” previously available in print only as part of a special collector’s box in 2015.
Next year brings not only the continuation of key series like Larry Correia’s Malcontents books and another book in the Acts of War series, but it will see the release of a second standalone science fiction novel as well as at least three new series set in the Iron Kingdoms. And with the recent move from digital only to both print and digital versions, Skull Island is braced to be the center of storytelling for all the Iron Kingdoms chronicles.
“We’re seeing the world as a giant puzzle right now,” Ryan says. “The Iron Kingdoms is rich with fascinating characters who support an epic storyline. The stories of these books will crisscross one another, so we’re composing a timeline for all the books and novellas in the Skull Island catalog. It will help readers know where they are in the history of western Immoren and beyond.” Still, Ryan is reserved when it comes to certain questions about the future books planned for Skull Island. Will the mysterious continent of Zu make an appearance in the library? Given the hints from the Lock & Load keynote address regarding a new Faction, can we expect books that feature that Faction or others? Additionally, in Hangouts at Lock & Load in early June, Privateer Press staff, including Seacat and Ryan, indicated other titles they’d like to see in the future, among which were a Gavyn Kyle novel and a book or books centered on the Protectorate warcaster Anson Durst. “We’ve sailed off the map here,” Ryan says. “We’re exploring options and ideas that we’ve never considered before, and the world just gets bigger and bigger. When we raise all the sails, you can bet you’re in for quite the ride.”
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Tales of the Invisible Hand
In August, Skull Island eXpeditions will release the first book in brand-new science fiction/fantasy series from author Miles Holmes (“The Way of Caine,” “Cold Steel”). Tales of the Invisible Hand marks the first time Skull Island has released a book that stands independent of Privateer Press’ existing worlds, one that offers a fantastic alternate-history Earth setting that readers of the Iron Kingdoms fiction will find enthralling. The following excerpt introduces readers to Max Braun, a historian of the future, and his theories about what preceded the history of our world, going back to a time before what we have always believed was the birth of man . . .
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Riddle of the Ant
You can’t know where you’re going until you know where you’ve been. So it goes, right? But here’s the gag: we don’t know. We probably never have, and we probably never will. As a species, we’re chronic amnesiacs. Near as we can tell, Homo sapiens like us have walked the Earth for over two hundred millennia. Just try for a moment to wrap your head around that much time. Then consider that the entire sum of human history barely accounts for one percent of that time. Knowing this, could man have a greater mystery to solve than the riddle of man himself? In the pages of this journal, I offer my own journey into this frontier. Though my research has long been discounted by my peers, the artifacts it has uncovered remain and with them, my conclusions—chiefly, that modern man has profoundly underestimated pre-historic man. Not so long ago, even I would have laughed at such hyperbole. My story begins twelve years ago in the former Republic of Iraq. It was there I led my first archaeological expedition, deep into the wastelands of that failed state. Three days from the gates of Amman to the dry lake of Hammar we traveled, avoiding hostile tribesmen and sandswallowed ruins until at last we set foot in the very cradle of human civilization, the oldest city known to man. Eridu.
Discovered within a case of similar composition to the plates, the weapon was an unmistakable marvel of craftsmanship and design to behold. It yet defies both dating and the ravages of time, leaving only one’s imagination to reflect upon its true nature. That a structure might have been raised some seventy thousand years ago alone demands we re-consider the middle Palaeolithic age. Yet to hold in my hand a functioning revolver of potential comparable antiquity leaves me in breathless wonder as to the missing pages of humanity’s story. Who were these people to wield guns in an age of stone knives and spears? By what means did they roam the Earth, and how did their journey end? —Professor Max Braun, “Revelations of Eridu,” 2069 Journey now, back to an age of adventure and intrigue to meet a civilization swallowed by the gulf of time. We begin with the young scout Zekh var Zaehn, flying his first away mission for the nomadic Thae-ano Flotilla and already in deep trouble for insubordination. His only passenger and superior officer, the grim-faced Neanderthal inquisitor Gavross Gaur, charts a path to the frontier of this savage and ancient world, charged to find answers for a sudden spate of tribal unrest and set things right. Yet as the pair is about to discover, some stones are better left unturned…
Lhott by Dawn Having published collegial papers on the origins of the Tower of Babel a year earlier, I was delighted to receive a sizable bursary from a wealthy “Air marshal, air marshal, identify Thae-ano craft four-twoif reclusive patron only a few months later. Yet as is often cautioned, five-five. Please respond.” Zekh keyed his headset, indifferent to the silence. With a shrug, he released the key and gripped one must be careful what one wishes for. So it was with me. Though I had come looking for a mere tower, it was instead the surreal the yoke with both hands, his keen eyes scanning the horizon. I found. Within the first week alone, I had little doubt that Sumerian The dawn sky was a perfect blue gradient, broken rarely by civilization had been founded over the ruins of another. Incredibly, low-hanging stratus clouds. Drifting high above one such bank, Zekh raised throttle then put his airship into a dive. Within the these precursors appeared to possess knowledge rivaling our own. The tower itself we found readily enough; the sheer scale of the thing cockpit, the projection sphere cast radiant glyphs in the air about could not long escape notice by our sophisticated instruments. And his face, tracking his every move. Tumbling left, he banked though it was reduced to no more than a ruined foundation twenty steeply to catch the wisps of the cloud. Immediately there was meters beneath the surface, the structure hinted at fantasy from the a howl of discontent from below. With a glint of mischief in his very start. Just as in the biblical account, it could have supported a eye, he leveled off, resuming a more gradual descent. truly massive tower, the equal of any modern skyscraper. Further, the foundation’s architecture featured precise lines and a unique honeycomb, one at odds with anything built around it. While it was resistant to all but thermo-luminescent dating, even this method led us to an impossible conclusion: that the tower had been raised some seventy thousand years ago. How? For what purpose? We faced too many questions, and we had only just begun. As we delved deeper, we uncovered a series of sub-chambers. It was there we found the artifacts.
Even this early, it was a glorious day, and Zekh could not help but glow along with the rising sun. Once more the Qinta was aloft, and he was where he most wished to be: nestled in the age-worn nook of her cockpit. He savored every feeling here, from the throb of the engines that shook him raw to the rush in his belly with each loop or dive.
The rattling old airship was a Korvanite commission, three centuries old and far from the fastest in the Flotilla. Her Foremost among them, we identified a curious archive of cuneiform rivets had been replaced many times over, and her silver skin tablets. Immediate study of the tablets suggested a dramatic end to the had been patched in countless places. Her engines predated her commission, salvaged from an even older relic. Despite tower amidst fire and chaos, in a time long before the rise of Sumer. Yet the tablets proved to be no more than a ruse, soon crumbling to drawing on first-generation power cores, they also predictably reveal plates of rare and precious metals marked with an unknown stalled at full throttle. The Qinta creaked with even the most language and pictographs. Additional study of these plates would casual of maneuvers as though she might suddenly shatter into pieces. Zekh didn’t care. For all her flaws, she was a thing later reveal so much more, as I will detail in the chapters to come. of beauty. Yet for all that we gleaned in Eridu, I confess it is the pistol that She was his. haunts me to this day.
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Her stubby silver-and-black-striped fuselage was just over a dozen yards long, framed by tandem ellipsoid wings. Spanning twenty yards aft and fifteen ahead, each wing mounted a transverse tilt rotor engine for variable vector thrust. The aft wings also sported matching tail rudders, each five yards tall. Atop the back of her fuselage sat Zekh’s bubble-like cockpit, appointed with threadbare bucket seats and an inglorious press-metal dash.
Regardless of what she’d been called over the centuries of her service, she was his to name, as far as Zekh was concerned, and he had exercised his rite of title by choosing the moniker of the terrifying demon-fish from the lore of his lost village: the Qinta-Kaa. He’d even gone so far as to paint her nose with the jaws and eyes of the fearsome beast.
Leveling off directly under the bank, Zekh let the tail rudders rake the cloud above. It seemed to him as though they were As with any airship considered a scout of the Flotilla, the Qinta daggers slicing the underside of a grain sack, and with a had been retrofitted with a projection sphere at her dash and a dumb grin he pictured the contents spilling as he went. From sensitive detection array along her belly. And at her nose jutted the ladder beneath his feet came a stumbling noise and an quad Sparkler guns and even a long first-generation lance. awkward smack of head to bulkhead, followed immediately Built by the Thae-ano of old, the high-powered beam weapon by a sharp curse. was a rare treasure for a scout. And once it had been fitted for “Explain this rough passage, scout!” the Sh’Col demanded, war six decades ago, no one had seen fit to remove it since. making his way up the tiny ladder into the two-seater cockpit. Thus was his Qinta equipped to fight if the situation demanded Zekh chuckled softly to watch this oversized Makai try to it, however unlikely that might be. squeeze into the narrow adjacent seat. “Apologies Sh’Col, just avoiding a little rough air,” he lied with all the deadpan he could muster. Yet in short order, his repressed grin fought itself loose. “Pshtak!” the Sh’Col swore. “You are reckless. You seem to forget your flight status is probationary. I warned your Kivra you were not ready, and you demonstrate it for me time and again.” His baleful eyes bored into Zekh with an intensity that caused the scout to shrink in his seat. Still, he met the glare with his best impression of innocence. The Sh’Col rolled his eyes. “Oh, and did you think last night’s weapons discharge had gone unnoticed?” Zekh swallowed, his face flushed. “Yes, it was noticed. If you find our protocols so chafing, you need not worry, boy. After my report is tendered, you will not be asked to abide by them again.” The middle-aged Makai plucked his beard until at last his glare drifted out beyond the windscreen. After a moment of silence, he turned to regard Zekh again. “And just what is it you always appear to be so pleased about? Do we not have problems enough for you?” Zekh shrugged. “I. . . Well, I can fly, Sh’Col. Where I come from, that makes men and the gods just about the same. You Makai ascended a long time ago. Maybe you’re just used to it by now.” “So, what of it?” “So, the world is a hard place. People die all the time, often for no good reason. I guess it just seems to me there’s no threat can’t be made small with enough altitude, and here’s me with an airship of my very own. What more could I ask?” The Sh’Col snorted. “A ridiculous philosophy. I certainly hope we have parted ways by the time reality comes calling to set you straight.” “Sh’Col, please.” The young scout paused to adjust his wireframe headset. It was time to deflect the conversation.
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And fast. He remembered that his passenger had said nothing of his solitary excursion since arriving back at camp. “You disappear for two days and come back to say the Hetakz are preparing for war. So, what are we doing about it?”
way to prosperity. Should these three fingers be grasped in peace, the fourth finger”—Zekh now raised his index finger— “grants the rule of Thae-ano. By the tenets of our constitution will they adopt the stability of a just and elected council that “May I presume you read the mission brief prior to departure?” their freedom and prosperity be long-lived.” the Sh’Col snorted. “And the last?” Zekh looked past a series of coolant readings in mid-air, reviewing the brief in his head, then cleared his throat. “Investigate reports of tribal instability in the region,” he recited, “Gomeer and Hetakz ranges.”
Zekh extended his thumb, his hand now fully opened. “The thumb grants the science of Thae-ano. By the principles of our science might they navigate their future. Whatever path it may take, when the hand has been embraced, we are all drawn to He turned to the Sh’Col with an arched eyebrow. “That’s what the greater good.” Knowing he had omitted or even maligned mine said. Now, from one end of Hrrta to the other, you can some words of the verse, Zekh winced at his stern companion, take your pick of primitives. At any given time, half of them expecting reproach. don’t get along. So, what exactly is the trouble with these two?” “Very well,” the Sh’Col conceded. “Never forget we are, all of The Sh’Col’s brow furrowed. “Very well,” he said, looking beyond us, indebted by this rite. All eight nations of the League were the riveted panes of the cockpit and out into the open sky. “The raised in this manner at one time or another.” problem is the Hetakz have been offered the Hand of Ascension.”
Zekh nodded, though the Sh’Col’s final words chafed. “And Zekh whistled. “What? Why didn’t you say so? When did some few have been lost along the way, too. As it was with my people.” he spoke softly as the Qinta began to bank. He this happen?” looked ahead to find the faint shadow of mountains across the “Three years ago. They nearly have our language already. We had horizon line. planned to begin the next phase early next season, but now...” “What’s wrong?” The Sh’Col shook his head. “Unless we can resolve the situation, they will be forsaken.” Lining up a new heading from the myriad glowing projections before him, Zekh tried to reconcile the Sh’Col’s revelations. “The Sh’Col order keeps tabs on many tribes. This sort of thing does happen, right?” Zekh scanned the horizon to studiously ignore the stern glare his comment had drawn. “Do you truly know so little our ways, boy? The Hand of Ascension is the most sacred rite of our hosts. Once begun, it is an undertaking and investment both, and it is not easily discarded.” “I get it.” “Convince me.” the Sh’Col scoffed. Zekh sighed. With a deep breath, he resolved to offer the first and most fundamental of the catechisms. He held a free hand out, his fingers closed into a fist. “The hand that guides brings one more to the greater good. The hand has five fingers.” He put his pinky finger up. “The first finger grants the word of Thae-ano. By speech and the written word can their education begin, and with it their first step on the path to the greater good.” He glanced at the Sh’Col to find him still watching expectantly. With a shrug, he put up his next finger. “The second finger grants the numbers of Thaeano. By mathematics and measurement might their world be better observed.” Zekh took a breath, extending his middle finger, his attention turned to the horizon. “The third finger grants the industry of Thae-ano. By our wisdom might they recognize their resources and how best to cultivate them. Instilled are the principles of agriculture, craft, and manufacture that they may find their
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Zekh edged the Qinta into a descent, noting a swirl of air pressure glyphs materializing over the amber vector as his airship continued to the distant mountains. He had heard most of the Sh’Col’s explanation before from the scholars. Yet it never sat entirely right with him, and here was an actual Sh’Col to question. “And nothing more?” The Sh’Col blinked at him. “A valid question. I have descended the hold of Ursis and peered inside the vault they keep there. I have seen the ancient tomes lined row after row. Memorials of heroes lost and battles won. An armory of Gol suits. Plasma lances and other wizardry that I cannot begin to guess the purpose of. Often have I wondered at the unspoken history that brought a vast and ageless people to just a few thousand survivors. Even the history they are willing to speak of presents a troubling pattern.” “What do you mean?” “If the Hand of Ascension has been observed for three thousand years, why do we find ourselves a League of only eight nations?” Zekh grimaced. The discussion was fast slipping into the surreal. “What are you saying?” “I only ask a question.” Gaur shrugged. “For now, the task of keeping one more tribe on the path is before us. If it be in my power, it shall be done.” The Sh’Col’s face broke into a mirthless smile. It was the first time Zekh had seen such from the Sh’Col, and he was immediately convinced Gaur’s smile was worse than his scowl, given the feral teeth he exposed. “You’ve never spoken with Makai before, have you?” The Sh’Col chuckled.
The Makai cast a narrowing glance Zekh’s way. “Perhaps I’ve overlooked the reason your Kivra chose you after all.” He Zekh shook his head. “Never ask Makai questions you do not wish to hear the pursed his lips, on the edge of saying something. answers to.” “What?” “You understand the situation. The League is a patchwork of civilization spread wide over a barbaric frontier. Savages vastly outnumber us. Most of them will kill for nothing more than the shoes on a man’s feet. And in the entire last century, only three tribes showed the non-violent potential for contact, including your own.” Zekh blinked at the Sh’Col, momentarily at a loss for words. “Yours might have grown to join the League as a full nation one day. The Hetakz yet may. And we have the chance to help them now. Do you understand?” “I suppose. But to what end? If my lessons are right, they’ve been at this for, what? Three thousand years? What difference does a tribe like mine or the Hetakz make, really?” Zekh shrugged. “Whatever is meant by the greater good, has it not more or less been achieved?”
“I’ll remember that, Sh’Col.” Zekh refocused on his projection sphere. The amber vector of his trajectory was paired with a steadily descending glyph. “We should make the capital of Lhott in twenty-two minutes.” The Sh’Col’s attention was drawn to beyond the Qinta’s windscreen, and he took in the view with a deeply drawn breath. “My grandfather was the Sh’Col who brokered the ascension of Lhott. Did you know that?” Zekh shook his head. “I suppose that explains why you are here.” “Indeed. I am obliged to matters that attend his legacy.” At that moment, Zekh noted a hazard glyph dancing just above his nose. His eyes darted ahead for an explanation only to find the mountains looming ever closer. The Sh’Col didn’t seem to notice; he grunted, his face twisted to a frown. Stealing a sidelong glance, Zekh saw him grasp for an unseen object tucked into the collar of his tunic.
The Sh’Col shook his head. “The greater good is the restoration of men as it was at the height of the Thae-ano Empire. The “You know, you still haven’t told me what you saw down greater good is a world of science and hope, not savagery and there,” Zekh noted, scanning the horizon. fear. Nothing less.”
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The Sh’Col grunted again, nodding this time. “Your brief tells “They will not listen. It has gone too far.” The Sh’Col scowled, the bulk of it. Indeed, I saw mounting aggression between the tracking the fast-moving riders below. “If we are swift, we might Hetakz and Gomeer tribes. All over an apparent trade dispute.” broker an arrangement for Lhott to airlift the goods promised “A trade dispute?” Zekh frowned. For the most part, tribesmen to the Hetakz. But of course, the Gomeer are committed now. and ascended kept to their separate selves. “Whatever would This complicates things greatly.” they have to trade?”
“Is it possible Lhott wanted this to happen?”
“Food for livestock, primarily. Gomi beasts are prized The Sh’Col regarded Zekh with narrowed eyes. “Why would throughout Lhott, and the Hetakz keep vast herds of them. In you ask such a question?” truth, it was the stability of this peaceful exchange that first “It’s a possibility, isn’t it?” Zekh pressed. brought the Hetakz to our attention.” Gaur pulled his beard. “Yes. Yes, it is. They are also well aware “So, what happened?” of the status of the Hetakz. If they are undermining our efforts, “While gathering their winter stores, the Hetakz claim the there will be consequences.” caravans from Lhott simply stopped arriving.” Zekh’s attention, still drawn over the side of his canopy, “Why would Lhott do that?”
snapped forward as a ping sounded in his ear. Looking once “The Hetakz claim Lhott was lured into new bargains with more at his vector, he saw it now glowed green, a hexagonal the Gomeer, who also tend Gomi herds. So, I sought out the glyph bulging midway. Gomeer chieftains to investigate the truth of these claims. But “That’s it,” he said. “We’ve just crossed the first marker into the Gomeer denied any involvement, and I found no reason Lhott.” to doubt them. Thus must we seek an answer in Lhott itself.” Zekh balked at oddity of the situation. He was not and could never be as studied as a Sh’Col, but he was not ignorant of Lhott. Among the most distant and more guarded nations of the League, Lhott was known to be honorable enough—it would never have been chosen for ascension otherwise. The Sh’Col watched with a knowing grimace as Zekh worked through the situation. “Now,” Gaur said at last, “you see something of the life of a Sh’Col.” Movement at the periphery of his left windowpane cut short Zekh’s reply. He jerked his head around and dipped his wings for a better look at the surface of the land below. “Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered. Far beneath them, a hundred Gomeer tribesmen were on the move. Each rode beasts as the Sh’Col had earlier, and the dust cloud they stirred up made them easy to spot from above. Their barbed spears were drawn, and they moved with a menacing precision southeast. “What is it?” the Sh’Col snapped, trying to see over Zekh’s shoulder. The young scout brought the Qinta around to give his passenger a better look, pointing as he did. “That’s a war party,” Zekh said. “Just as I feared.” The Sh’Col simmered for only an instant before he erupted, pounding his fist on the dash. “Wait. Can’t we do something?” Zekh looked across at the hunched, furious Makai.
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PRIVATEER PRESS FORMULA P3
GRANDMASTER PAINTING COMPETITION Lock & Load Edition
Lock & Load GameFest 2016 was a grand celebration of the end of Mk II and the beginning of a new era for WARMACHINE and HORDES. But while the rules may change, the models are eternal! The Grandmaster Painting Competition had tons of amazing entries. Here are some of the best from the show.
Grandmaster Winner Gold Tom Carter
warrior Category
Silver
Geordie Hicks
Silver
Shoshie Bauer
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Formula P3 Grandmaster painting: Lock & Load
warrior Category
Silver
Stephen Hall
Bronze
Kevin Burton
GOLD Erik Swinson
Formula P3 Grandmaster painting: Lock & Load
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Battlegroup Category
Silver
Stephen Hall
Bronze
Charles Sampson
Bronze
Michael Sigler 60
Formula P3 Grandmaster painting: Lock & Load
Warjack/warbeast Category Silver
Stephen Hall
Silver
Nich Scherdnile Silver
Shoshie Bauer
Bronze
Charles Sampson
Bronze
Jose Castillo
Bronze
Jaden Iwaasa Formula P3 Grandmaster painting: Lock & Load
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Massive Model Category Bronze
Martin Cox
unit Category
Silver
Stephen Hall
Bronze
Eric Michel 62
Formula P3 Grandmaster painting: Lock & Load
Hardcore: The Last Dance Master Craftsman
Master Craftsman Devon Maher
Lock & Load GameFest 2016 was also the site of the last Hardcore tournament. With this venerable format being retired, Devon Maher claimed the final Master Craftsman award for best-painted army.
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Terrain Showcase
Trollblood Fortress Iron Gauntlet Finals Table By Michael Archer For the past two Lock & Load GameFests, I have been given the responsibility to come up with an impressive and playable table for the Iron Gauntlet WARMACHINE & HORDES World Championship. We decided the best way to do this was with an end-cap diorama. It was made to set the scene and maintain a play space conducive to tournament play. This year, I wanted to make a Trollblood fortress built into the side of a mountain. In this article, I will share some brief thoughts on my work and a gallery of photos of the finished table.
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Layout and Blocking in Shapes
I spent a lot of time laying out my composition and getting the right scale for my starting shapes. For this project, I chose to use lots of hand-carved foam and scratch-built details to keep the style similar throughout the build. At this stage, all the elements are still loose, so I can play with their positions to make them more manageable to work on.
Terrain Tip: Hiding Seams When making stacked foam buildings or rocks, it is important to hide the seams between the layers. I used thin strips of pink foam on the buildings and carved the rocks with natural steps in some places to better blend the layers together.
Assembly and Detail Work
Once I had the composition I was happy with, I began basic detailing. I used wood filler putty to add texture to walls and rocks. Then I spent too many hours tiling roofs and detailing doors. The places where buildings met the ground made more seams, which I hid with sloped layers of foam and sand. I tried to keep the details varied, so things didn’t look too uniform by using elements like the thatched roof and battle damage.
Terrain Tip: Pink Foam Runes The runes were first drawn on with a ballpoint pen. Then, they were traced with a P3 Hobby Knife around the edges. Finally, they were pushed in with a small soft-tipped tool.
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Painting, Flock, and Final Details
With most of the details done, I painted the entire table and then went back and added some spiked barricades to add to the savage look. I also pinned down some removable trees for added life. With the final details in place, I applied multiple layers of flock, then static grass. I used a static-grass applicator to get the grass to stand up and look more natural.
Strategically placing faction details—such as banners, shields, and rune stones—grounds your terrain in the setting of your choice. Visually, these also fill in blank areas on walls and create focal points to the viewer’s eye.
I made this thatch roof by unwrapping the bristles of some cheap chip brushes. (Note: It takes a lot of brushes, but you can buy them by the box for pretty cheap.) I then used superglue to carefully layer them from the bottom of the roof up to the hole for the chimney. I glued some rocks down to add some visual interest and made a small metal chimney out of plastic card to hide the ugly ends of the final layer.
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Having a variety of vegetation helps convey a realistic nature scene. I wanted a mountain feel for this piece, so I went with a variety of sparsely placed conifer trees. The trees also add to the color pallet of the piece. I added some grass tufts, sparsely placed flowers, and even some ivy on the buildings.
Final Thoughts
Projects of this scale really take a lot of time and energy, but they have a real wow factor to them and are some of the most immersive tables to play on. I hope this window into the process inspires you to try your hand at an ambitious terrain project!
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Courage at the Crossroads Season 1: Run Rabbit Run By Matt Goetz “Crossroads of Courage” is the narrative league for WARMACHINE & HORDES, beginning this September and ending at Lock & Load GameFest 2017. The league is broken down into four seasons, each four weeks long, with a special finale event to be held at Lock & Load. Over the course of this story-driven event, players will influence the fate of a new hero (or villain) within the Iron Kingdoms, Holden. Each season’s results will shape Holden’s fate, with the Lock & Load finale event determining his final form. Holden isn’t just a league character; he will be released as an actual model for WARMACHINE & HORDES after “Crossroads of Courage” has ended. Whether Holden is a brave hero, a sinister villain, a coward, a rebel, or anything in between is up to the players to decide. Each league season is accompanied by fiction telling Holden’s tale as he progresses through war-torn western Immoren. We’ve included the first season’s fiction here for your enjoyment. If you’re looking for a good time with friends, great story-driven casual play, and the chance to make your mark on a citizen of the Iron Kingdoms, then look no further. The first season of “Crossroads of Courage” begins September 1 at a game store near you!
Since this land was first turned for the bounty it’d grow, Stood fast one truth that all mortal men know, Choose ye wrong or choose right, Feed ye darkness or light, At the end of your days, you shall reap what you sow. The rabbit loped in the late afternoon sun, stopping along its path to sniff at the air with a twitching nose or to wheel its ears in the direction of distant sounds. In the golden light of dusk, its tawny fur blended in with the field of late-summer grass. Two smaller rabbits emerged a moment later, following the larger rabbit’s trail. Holden lay on his belly fifty yards away, controlling his breathing as the wind ruffled the field. Squeezing his left eye down to a slit, he lowered his cheek onto the worn stock of his rifle. Keeping his grip loose, he nudged the barrel up until the leading rabbit stood dead center atop the weapon’s front sight like it was performing an acrobatic trick.
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Holden breathed slow, balancing the rabbit atop the sight. His right finger slid into the iron loop of the rifle’s trigger guard and rested on the brass trigger, polished smooth from years of use. As he eased the trigger back, the calm of the moment broke under the piercing shriek of a train’s whistle to the southeast—one low, long blast followed by a shrill, short one. The leading rabbit let out a chirp of warning to its companions, then it and the smallest at the rear dashed off in zigging lines to disappear into the field. The third rabbit snapped up to its haunches and froze. Its nose twitching, it locked eyes with Holden across the rifle’s barrel. Cursing under his breath, Holden traveled the trigger back before his target could bolt. The pin snapped, the rifle barked, and the rabbit flipped into the grass a few feet from where it stood. Holden rose and started winding open the neck of a canvas sack on his hip. Within, several other skinned rabbits awaited their new companion.
Near where Holden stood, a stout young man whooped and sprang up from a blind of dry grass. Grinning, he jogged over to Holden through the cloud of blasting powder smoke. His wide face flushed from the short distance, he slowed to a walk to help look for the kill. “I thought you were gonna lose him when that train whistled!” Wyatt exclaimed as Holden moved forward and swept the grass this way and that with a foot. “Sounded like it came from the south. What’d this one say?” “Long, then short. Means another train is headed up that track.” Holden jerked a thumb over his shoulder without looking. Wyatt turned and squinted south at a stand of chestnut trees where the top of a water tower protruded above the tree line. A thin strand of smoke floated up there, disappearing in the sky. He grunted and then continued helping the search for the rabbit. A moment later his hand shot down and plucked it from the ground, holding the prize aloft. “Damn but that was a good shot. I couldn’t even see the little critter. You nailed it right in the head.” He twisted the rabbit in his hands to appraise the damage. “Right between the ears! Your granny’d sure be proud!” “Thanks.” Holden’s quick, flat response cut off Wyatt as he accepted the carcass, squatted down, and pulled his belt knife to dress it. “Aw . . . I’m sorry.” “It’s fine.” Holden avoided his friend’s face, staring instead at the rabbit as he dispassionately skinned it. “It wasn’t your fault. Nothing you coulda done.” “Nothing is what I did,” Holden snapped, jabbing the knife into the dirt in front of him. He paused, his jaw working. Then he held up the carcass of the rabbit, shaking it before tossing it into the sack hard. “Nothing is what this rabbit did. But the difference is he wasn’t holding a gun.” Wyatt stepped back with a look of surprise. Holden sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes, oblivious to the red streaks he left behind. “It’s fine,” he said again, this time earnestly. He looked up and gave Wyatt a lopsided smile. “I’m fine.” Wyatt watched him for a moment, and then dropped his hands to tug a handkerchief out of his back pocket, grinning. “Like hell you are. You got rabbit blood all over your damn face.”
Ten minutes later, twilight encroached on the sky above, framed by the bare branches of the trees overhead. Moonrise was still hours off, but the prickle of early stars glowed above. The two reached a wooden trestle bridge, a thin branch of the larger southern line that crossed a defile in the woods. To the north the bridge curved closer to the defile’s opposite edge, making an easier path than scrabbling up the thick brush of the defile’s far side and drier than the marshy bog in its center. First Wyatt then Holden climbed up the wooden planking of the bridge’s side and up onto the ties. Ahead, a string of mine carts were visible through the trees, flanked by large clapboard buildings ringed with wooden boardwalks. The buildings and boardwalks stood on wooden piers a few inches above the damp soil of the town.
“Don’t you think ya bagged enough already?” Wyatt asked. “Annie’s kids don’t eat that much.” “We don’t make it out to her place that often. I want to be sure.” “I’m sure, you half-head. Seven will feed them for a week.” As they approached town, three clear gunshots rang out, echoing through the woods and sending night birds fluttering from their perches. Both young men froze. Furrowing his brow, Holden looked back and forth, scanning the tree line. “You think Marley’s boys are hunting around the mine again?” Wyatt scowled. “Pritchard’s gonna give them a thrashing when he finds out.” Wyatt started moving again when a flurry of shots fired like a pine log crackling in a hot fire. Then there was another noise, a raw, animal howl of pain and panic just as shrill as the train’s whistle had been. “That sounded like a scream.” Wyatt’s eyes were as wide as copper farthings. Both young men sprang to life, sprinting down the trestle track to the little mining village. As they ran, more gunshots snapped off in the dark, and a rising cloud of blasting powder smoke wafted over the rooftops. Somewhere in town there came a deep and primal roar. Veering from their path, Holden and Wyatt slammed into hiding just inside the left-hand buckboard shed, a place where the town’s miners hung their tin helmets and stored their tools. The wall facing the town shook under a heavy impact, knocking dust from between the boards and causing Holden to scramble back. Wyatt crept forward to peer between two slats in the wall. If he meant to tell Holden what he saw, his words died before he could speak them. Wyatt’s eyes flared open, his jaw slackened, and his breath came out as a thin, reedy whisper. Struggling to keep below the windowsills, Holden crawled on his hands and knees next to Wyatt and pressed against the wall, snatching a glimpse through the slats of the street beyond. On the packed dirt of the town’s main street, crumpled bodies lay in pools of blood made black by the rising moon. One of them was in a heap at the base of the wall with a broken neck. It was Pritchard. His sightless eyes started up at Holden, causing him to flinch away from the sight. Next to him, Wyatt found his voice again. “Who’s doing this?” he asked in an urgent whisper. “Khadorans? Trollkin?” Holden shook his head. Breathing fast and shallow, he looked outside again as a man howling in pain came crawling around a building across the street, dragging a mangled leg. Farther into town, figures obscured by white clouds of smoke ran from unseen pursuers and fell with crossbow bolts in their backs or were chased down by enormous loping beasts. Silhouetted figures emerged from the rows of miners’ homes to the right of the mining shack. Behind them, the low cherryglow of fires in the houses started to flicker, quickly turning into blazing yellow light. The fires of burning homes illuminated the nearest of the figures. It was tall, corded with muscle, and covered with a network of thick scars. The thing’s face was inhuman, its mouth distended by oversize teeth and skin stretched into a beastlike snarl. Gore slicked its body and the rough-stitched hide clothes and patchwork armor it wore, and blood dribbled off the edge of an enormous axe it held in one massive fist. Lapping at the slick of blood on its face, the thing began stalking closer to the injured man, dragging in great snorts of air. Sniffing for fresh prey.
“Just enough daylight to get one more,” Holden said as he squinted at the sun, sitting right above the tree line.
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“We gotta help him,” Wyatt hissed, barely audible over the howls and screams emerging from the town. “Shoot it. Shoot that . . . thing.” He jerked his head up to the storage shack’s window on their left. But Holden didn’t move. He clutched his rifle against his breast, watching with ever-widening eyes as the gory creature stalked closer to the wounded man, cocking its head like a curious dog. With one foot it pinned the man by his crippled leg, eliciting a howl of pain and causing the thing’s ugly lips to curl back from its teeth in a jagged smile. “Shoot it! “Put one right in its eye! I know you can do it!” Wyatt whispered, his voice rising with panic. Holden remained fixed in place, sheened with sickly sweat. Wyatt looked back and forth, first at his friend, then at the bestial figure. When Holden didn’t react, Wyatt’s face fell. Wrenching the rifle from Holden’s hands, his expression was a mixture of disappointment and fear. “If you’re not going to help him, I will.” Holden reached for Wyatt, his soft plea for his friend to stay dying in his throat. Wyatt stepped to the corner of the shack as the beast lifted its axe high for a killing blow. Wyatt quivered as he raised the rifle and took aim at the hulking beast, but before he could pull the trigger, the thing’s eyes snapped up from its wounded prey, glinting brightly in the reflected glow of fires. The beast hurled its axe through the air as Wyatt’s shot went wide. The weapon cleaved into Wyatt’s chest, splitting his breastbone open and slamming him back. Wyatt skidded to a stop on the wooden boardwalk a few yards from Holden’s hiding place, staring up at the night sky. Holden curled into a ball and tried to cram himself beneath a table in the storehouse’s corner, tears running down his cheeks. He breathed in shallow, quiet breaths as the thing outside moved toward Wyatt’s broken body. If it looked to its left, it would see Holden hiding there. The beast leaned over Wyatt and sniffed him twice. It began to rise, its head turning to where Holden struggled to stay quiet. He tensed, terrified he would be discovered, when the injured man in the street yowled in pain. The thing turned and uttered a guttural, ugly laugh. Another of the things was poised with a short bone dagger over the wounded man. Uttering a low growl, Wyatt’s killer grabbed the axe by its handle and stalked toward the other creature in the street, not bothering to free its weapon from Wyatt. The lodged weapon dragged Wyatt’s body along, his boots clattering on the wooden boardwalk a few short paces before the blade firmly wrenched free of his chest with a wet noise. The creature with the axe snapped a powerful backhand across the other one’s face, driving it away from the wounded man. The two growled and snapped at one another in a brutish language. Eventually the one with the dagger backed away, cowed, while Wyatt’s killer shook blood from its weapon and chopped down at the man in the street. Holden flinched at the axe crunching down into the wounded man’s skull. The creature knelt down and scooped up the body with one bloody hand, howling, and hoisted it aloft like a trophy. It and the other creature, their ritual display complete, ran off toward the chaos in the center of town. Holden’s stifled sobs were indiscernible from the grotesque noise of slaughter. Townsfolk screamed and beasts bellowed, and the cries of the dying rang through the streets. He huddled there for minutes trying to breathe quietly when a gurgling voice softly called out his name. Opening his eyes, he looked toward the sound. “Holden. Help me.” Lying half in the dirt road where he’d been dragged, his chest a ruin, Wyatt’s mouth bubbled with blood. His
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tone was flat, his words thick. His fingers twitched in the dirt as he weakly reached for Holden. “Help me.” Holden clenched his eyes shut again and bit hard on his fist to stifle the sobs that wracked his body. Pulling his shoulders tight and his knees to his chest, he wept for his dying friend. “Help me, Holden.”
Hours after Wyatt’s pleading stopped, hours after the last strains of dying that echoed through the town fell silent, Holden crept out of hiding. The heat of the day had been replaced with the biting chill of a clear night. Only the dying coals of the charred buildings nearby gave any warmth. A flattened shop on his right had collapsed under the three-ton weight of Divot, the town’s run-down laborjack. Divot’s hull had huge rents in its plating and its left arm was twisted off, spilling a pool of hydraulic fluid and oil into the street. Looking out for signs of danger, Holden approached his fallen friend. A sudden noise made him freeze and jerk back toward his hiding place, but it was only a support beam collapsing inside one of the burned homes. Biting his lip, he continued on to Wyatt’s side. Wyatt lay near a tangle of other corpses whose chests had been ripped open and something torn out, leaving deep and bloody voids. Only Wyatt had been saved from the bloody work: the wound in his chest ruined whatever prize the creatures were after. Wyatt’s eyes were unfocused and his face ashen, lips parted slightly from the last time he’d called for help. Holden knelt down, closing his dead friend’s eyes. Then he drew his rifle from Wyatt’s stiffening fingers and rose to take tentative steps toward town. His shoulders were tight and his grip on the weapon tighter as he moved into the street. “Hello?” he breathed, his voice hoarse and cracking from rawness. He took a few more steps forward and whispered again, a little louder this time. “Anybody there?” He was waiting for a response when a crow cawed from atop a nearby roof. The harsh, barking sound made Holden freeze in the street. The bird hopped to the edge of the roof and cocked its head, regarding the pile of corpses with one glossy black eye. “Don’t you dare,” he whispered. He made a shooing gesture with the barrel of his rifle, and the crow flapped away toward the center of town. Once the bird was gone, Holden made his way to the noiseless main road, stepping around bodies. Ahead, his path brought him to The Chant and Cup, a common house, facing the barber-surgeon’s on the left side of the street and the mine foreman’s office across the way. As he walked, he fished into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of waxed paper cartridges. A few tumbled from his fingers to land near another corpse in the street. Swallowing hard, he left them there, trying not to look at the dead woman’s accusing face. He slipped the others into leather loops on the rifle’s stock. He tried to load his rifle, but his fingers slipped and he lost another cartridge trying to feed it into the open trap door on the back of his weapon. This time, he stooped down to pick it up—this one hadn’t fallen near anyone’s corpse. Cursing under his breath, he blew dirt and ash off the cartridge before slipping it home and locking the breech with a soft click. He was ready to begin his search again when the crow uttered a series of sharp calls, three short croaks like a mocking laugh.
Looking up, Holden spotted the crow perched atop the foreman’s office. Shapes moved in the shadows of the shattered front door of the office below it; three of the bestial men crouched in the shadows of the building, messily eating something fleshy and man-shaped. Holden held his breath and started to retreat when one of them ripped away a hunk of meat with a jerk of its head, the gory and ugly face now fully visible in the moonlight. The two of them locked eyes for a moment, Holden’s wide in fear, the thing’s narrow with rage. Throwing back its head, the thing uttered a guttural noise that pitched into something like a howl. “Oh, god.” Holden bolted. He sprang for The Chant and Cup’s door, hurdling the hitching post out front. The three things inside the foreman’s office left their meal and came howling after him, crude melee weapons appearing in their hands. Once inside the common house, Holden juked to his right as his pursuers smashed through the shuttered windows facing the street. They crashed into the upturned tables and chairs littering the main room, struggling to get free of the clutter. Holden leapt over the bar and shouldered through a sagging door into the kitchen and from there into an alley that ran behind the common house. His pursuers raised a terrible clatter as they barreled into the kitchen behind him. Holden sprinted south down the alley, chanting prayers under his breath as he passed the backsides of the town’s familiar buildings. He took a hard left at speed into a narrow gap between buildings, barely wide enough for him to run down. The sound of his footsteps changed from the flat slap of packed dirt to a hollow wooden thudding as he ran from the alley dirt to planking toward a railing that crossed his path on the other side of the gap. When he looked over his shoulder to see if the pursuers were catching up, his boots struck one of the wooden boards and tangled up, tossing him gut-first into the railing and knocking out his wind. He nearly pitched over the side of a raised boardwalk built on the second level of the carpenter’s shop into a steep valley on the southwest edge of town. A simple crane was affixed to his left, holding a payload of cut timbers in open air. The sound of the creatures chasing him grew louder. The first followed Holden’s path, trying to squeeze its way through the alley. A second jumped for the roof of the shop. Holden swallowed hard, his throat clicking, and climbed onto the railing. Clenching his hands into fists, he jumped as far as he could. He landed on the load of timbers dangling from the crane and hauled himself up. The thing in the alley clawed at the walls and snapped its jaws trying to reach him. The one on the roof bounded forward, raising its weapon to pick him off his perch. Swaying crazily on his line, Holden whacked the belaying pin that held the thick rope in place with the butt of his rifle. Nothing happened. With a scream of rage and panic, Holden smashed his rifle’s stock against the pin again, and it snapped free with a loud crack. He fell in a shower of logs as the creature’s broadaxe sailed through the air overhead. Holden hit the ground hard, wrenching his right ankle, and began to tumble down the slope of the valley to the trees below. Bouncing timbers rained around him as he crashed to a halt at the edge of the trees. In the darkness above, his pursuers snapped and growled as they broke off their chase to tear down the alley past the carpenter’s shop and toward the southern edge of town.
Groaning in pain, Holden used his rifle as a crutch to stand up. He scanned the town above for signs of the creatures, trying to quiet his rapid breathing. When there was no further hint of them, he took a few tentative steps up the hill, back to town. A low and rumbling growl sounded in the trees behind him. Holden spun and saw two bestial men emerged from the shadow of trees in the valley, their lips curled back from their long and glistening fangs. They were only a few yards from him, blocking off any path into the trees. One jerked forward, startling him. He shouldered his rifle and snapped off a shot, hitting it in its eye. As it fell, Holden broke into a run back to town. The other creature howled in rage and made chase. Holden snatched another cartridge from the rifle’s stock and jammed it home as he clambered up the slope of the valley into town. At the top of the grade, he spun and shot at the thing chasing him, but the bullet ricocheted harmlessly off an armored plate. Stumbling backward, Holden fumbled for another round, dropping it in a panic. The thing below fell into a crouched, animalistic run up the hill. Backpedaling, Holden reloaded before tripping on the irregular ground and crashing onto his back. The thing transitioned from a crouch to a leap and flew at him. Holden fired without aiming. His blind shot took the thing in its throat. He rolled out of the way as it crashed down where he had been, its clawed feet and hands digging at the dirt as its life seeped out of the hole in its neck. Without waiting to see if it would die, Holden picked himself off the ground and ran for his life.
He had been sprinting down the railroad tracks, the gloaming of a distant dawn edging onto the eastern sky. He stopped to catch his breath, doubled over and gulping for air, sweat pouring off his face. Two noises in quick succession got him moving again: the snapping of branches and barked shouts echoing through the trees behind him, and the low whistle of a train ahead. “One whistle . . . means standby,” he gasped between breaths as he broke into a lopsided run. Mustering the little speed he had left, he ran away from the unseen menace in the woods. He ran until his legs trembled, stumbling on the railroad ties and hauling himself back up more than once, cutting his hands on the sharp edges of the ballast rocks. Holden ran until his lungs wheezed with every breath, until his jaw hung open and limp, until his whole body poured sweat and sagged on the edge of collapse. Eventually he ran into the edge of a pool of light: gas lanterns hanging from the cars of two trains on the north-south main line, one train parked behind the other. Standing between the two trains, a secondman examined one of the engines, holding aloft a red lantern that cast his face into pools of unsettling shadow. A line of men emerged from the southern train and stood in single-file to board the waiting northern one, a large military train heavy with armor plates and blistered with cannons. The golden swan of Cygnar stood out against the iron hull of the military train. A thick column of black smoke vented from its stacks, and a rhythmic chugging from the engine indicated that it was building steam, preparing to head out. Holden rushed headlong to the line of men waiting to board the military train. He clambered onto the wooden platform between the two trains and almost fell again, but an arm shot out and hauled him up to his feet.
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“Steady there,” a slightly older man said, scrutinizing Holden as he nudged him into line. A thick man about Holden’s age peered around the shoulders of the one who’d grabbed him. “What’ve you got there, Rogers?” “Local boy with a damn fine rifle. You know you didn’t need to bring your own weapon, right kid? They’re gonna kit you out with standard issue. Say, you get in a fight with one of those Caspian jerks or something? You’re a mess.” “What . . . ” Holden stammered. “Rifle. The armory will set you up with a military piece when we get to the front. Bayonet and everything.” Rogers pantomimed stabbing a rifle at Holden, grinning as he flinched.
another possible path of escape. It was crawling with workers preparing it for its return journey to the south. At the rear, an older man stood on a short ladder to check a hanging red lantern. Before the old man could reach it, a thick, clawed hand slashed out from an unseen thing lurking in the darkness behind the train and snagged the man from his perch. There was no cry of panic or of pain; the old man simply disappeared. Shadows moved beneath the southern train as something stalked forward, toward another solitary figure. Before he could witness those things taking another life, Holden backpedaled toward the troop transport’s door. The sergeant’s calloused hand grabbed his shoulder and hauled him up into the noise and smoke of the troop car, clicking his thumb on the tally counter. “Name?” When Holden didn’t respond, he repeated the question.
“Military? I don’t . . . ”
“Holden. Uh, sir.”
“Yep, next stop, Corvis. Then it’s on to the front! Brinn’s sure we’re joining up with Lord General Stryker’s army! Can you imagine?” Rogers beamed with pride as he spoke. The shorter, chubbier man behind him pushed forward to look at Holden as the line shuffled forward.
“We’re here to pick up three hundred.” The sergeant scowled and turned his counter for Holden to see the numbered dials. “We have three hundred.”
“Show him, Rogers.” Rogers laughed and dug into his back pocket, liberating a well-worn folded broadsheet. He pushed it into Holden’s baffled face. At the top in block capitals was one word: WAR. Beneath it was a stern-looking woman, her face framed by a crop of white-blonde hair. Behind her a column of Cygnaran soldiers and towering warjacks stretched out down the promenade of a major city street. The rest of the print below the picture was too small to read in the dim light streaming out of the train’s windows. “I plan to get Major Maddox to sign it when we get to the front.” “This guy thinks we’re gonna be anywhere close to the warcasters. He’s got a load of mud where his brain should be.” At that Rogers laughed and gave Holden a sheepish shrug before turning back to his companion. “Hey, you never know. The Lord General was just a soldier once.” “A soldier who became a warcaster.” Holden looked at his surroundings again, realization dawning on him. The line was pushing him back toward the open maw of the military train, a troop transport car that the men filed into where a red-faced sergeant barked at them for their names as they boarded. His assistant wrote them in a ledger as the sergeant counted each man with a handheld tally counter. Beginning to protest, Holden hazarded a glance back at the tree line he had escaped from, where the thin railroad spur headed back to the ruins of his former home. The tops of the trees shuddered as things moved through them—things large enough to make the trees quake. At the edge of the trees, hulking shadows lurked, some almost double the size of the things in the village. Swallowing hard, Holden exhaled sharply and stopped pressing back against the push of the line. Rogers noticed and tried to reassure him that things would be fine. Holden didn’t move, so Rogers and Brinn joined the forward press, taking their place in line. Before they departed, Rogers gave him another grin. “Don’t take too long, kid. Brinn and me will save you a seat.” Holden walked back slowly, his head swiveling between the moonlit trees and the blustering sergeant. He looked at the southern train,
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Holden looked over his shoulder to where the creature had snatched the old man and back to the sergeant. He stammered uselessly trying to find his response. The sergeant’s assistant with the ledger hovered his pen above the page, waiting to see if he should add Holden’s name. He began slowly pulling it away. Before Holden could find his words to come up with any excuse why he should be allowed to the safety aboard the train, the man named Rogers reappeared at the train car’s doorway peering over the sergeant’s shoulder. “I think you hit the ticker twice when I stepped on, sir.” The sergeant glowered at Rogers and lunged forward until their noses were nearly touching. “You think I’m simple, son? That I don’t know my own business?” “No, sir.” “See you don’t!” The sergeant turned to Holden and barked for the young man to take a seat aboard the train. At first Holden didn’t move, still agape and uncertain. Rogers extended his hand with a grin. “You coming, kid?” Holden stared at the hand, still unsure, until the unpleasant calling of a crow echoed from the distant trees. The noise snapped him to action. He jumped aboard the train as the sergeant angrily stuffed the counter into his pocket and bellowed forward that all were counted and aboard. Another man picked up the cry, and another, until the engineer rang a bell to signal his readiness. The train whistled again and pulled forward, picking up speed. The men in the train car started to jabber at one another, smoke noxious cigars, or stare blankly ahead. Some of them looked reluctant to be aboard, but most had a cheerful air about them as they shouted raunchy songs that frequently rhymed “red” with “dead.”Holden stumbled along the cramped walkway of the train car until Rogers grabbed him and pushed him down onto a bare wooden bench, pressing Brinn against the window to make room. They talked, but Holden didn’t listen. Instead, he pressed himself into the seat as tight as he could, closed his eyes, and choked back his tears. The train moved north to war.
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Theme Force
The Kingmaker’s Army Story by Douglas Seacat • Theme Force by Jason Soles
Excerpt from The Blood of Kings Julius had learned that the standing rumor among the Steelheads about his identity was that he was Magnus’ bastard son, a fact he did not dispute. It seemed to endear him to them and meant they took their harassment only so far. It also helped explain the fact that Magnus was willing to spend his time personally training him, though that, too, had been put on hold. By taking on the role of Magnus’ bastard successor, Julius had become some sort of mercenary royalty, a notion that amused him. Given he had been raised without family and with little contact with anyone but his tutors, it was sometimes overwhelming to be surrounded by so many people. He found their rough conversation, jokes, and songs all equally fascinating. Being a mercenary prince seemed fitting practice for the real thing. And despite their crude manners, he enjoyed the company of the Steelheads.
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When they reached the front Julius saw they had come head-to-head with something of a mirror of their own forces. The other column comprised Steelhead mercenaries akin to their own, predominantly riflemen and pikemen. At the fore was a large man also in Steelhead attire, seated astride a large warhorse. He was heavily armored but wore unconventional gear. Strapped across his back was a massive greatsword in the Caspian style, one with a wide blade perforated along its length with holes. His armor padding beneath his plated mail was green, and altogether both his armor and his
Next to the Steelhead commander was a man on foot who had to be a warcaster, given the telltale thick piped conduits running from the breastplate of his heavy, battle-dented mechanikal armor to the smoke-belching turbine on his back. He was a big, thick-bodied man, several inches taller than Magnus and at least a hundred pounds heavier. A single-edged mechanikal cleaver with a long handle was strapped to his back. He wore a pair of goggles pushed up onto his forehead, and he was bald, with a thick moustache, and was chomping on a cigar. Asheth Magnus’ pace increased as he neared, and he greeted the men warmly. “Commander Stannis Brocker and Drake MacBain. Glad to see the both of you. I appreciate that you’ve answered my call.” “With the money you’re offering, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” said MacBain. Commander Brocker dismounted heavily, looking wearier and more reserved than the warcaster beside him. Still, he smiled at Magnus and inclined his head deeply. “I’ve brought as much of the company from Ternon Crag as was available,” he said. “Thought we’d be marching to Fellig. We’re headed the other way now?” “Plans have accelerated,” Magnus said with a nod. “We’re heading southeast, then south. First through Corvis, then on to Caspia.” MacBain cleared his throat. “Excuse me for pointing this out, but aren’t you wanted for treason there? Or is that where we come in? I should tell you, Magnus, I am confident in my abilities, but I don’t think we can take both Corvis and Caspia. Or either one of them individually. If you want an expert’s opinion.” “My plans aren’t quite that grand,” Magnus said with a chuckle. “I’ll be needing you to serve as my front man for this army. It will, to all outside perspectives, be your army and not mine. I will remain a mostly silent and invisible partner.” “That’s going to cost more,” MacBain said. “We’ll need to revise the exact stipulations of how this arrangement will work into my contract.” “I’d expect nothing less,” the Warlord said. “I’ve already been working on that. I think you’ll find the terms quite generous. We’re embarking on an admittedly dangerous endeavor, though the rewards will be substantial.”
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horse’s barding looked of finer make than that used by most Steelhead cavalry. Julius recognized the pendant around his neck as a commander’s seal.
MacBain’s grin widened, and he said, “Things had been a little dull of late anyhow. I’m due for a high-risk, highreward scenario, so you’re speaking my language.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, let me see that contract!” Magnus tossed him a leather messenger satchel, which MacBain caught in one hand. “The road doesn’t offer the best conditions for writing, so you’ll have to excuse the state of those documents. I assure you my atrocious handwriting is not a negotiation tactic.” “We’ll see about that,” MacBain said, eagerly pulling out several of the handwritten pages. Julius found it an odd portrait to see the armored, heavyset warrior squinting down at paperwork with such naked enthusiasm. With that matter preoccupying the other warcaster, Magnus turned to Commander Brocker. To him he said, “I realize we have Steelheads from several different branches. I intend to gather the captains and put them under your charge, for simplicity. Do you foresee any issues?” “Shouldn’t matter; we’re all professionals,” Brocker said. He looked back along the lines of Magnus’ column. “I know most of them well enough. I will tell you that while MacBain might be looking for excitement, our people are less eager to get killed for one of your causes. Your stock has gone down with the Steelheads at Ternon Crag. That last business against Eastwall didn’t work out so great for them.” “Are you speaking for them or for yourself?” Magnus asked, staring back at the Steelhead commander. Brocker chuckled and said, “Me? I enjoyed that fight. I’m always up for a good battle. Just something to be aware of. These are mercenaries, not dedicated rebels.” Magnus nodded. “Very well. In truth, I hope to avoid large battles if we can. This army exists primarily for insurance, as well as a demonstration to the people I need to meet with that I’m serious. If all goes as it should, we might accomplish my goals without fighting at all. Words may be more important than bullets in the weeks ahead.” “So you say now,” Brocker said with a wink. “All the same, I think I’ll have my men keep their rifles and pistols loaded.” He leaned in closer to say in a quieter voice, “I should mention I did bring a couple of special guests from the Crag. Older gents, very quiet and secretive. One might say paranoid. You know the type.”
Theme Force:The KingMaker’s Army
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Mercenaries theme force
The KingMaker’s Army In 609 AR, Asheth Magnus set about organizing the greatest mercenary army ever gathered in one place. Having taken Vinter Raelthorne IV’s bastard son Julius under his wing, the Warlord embarked on an ambitious plan to secure Cygnar’s throne. This army was bankrolled with gold bullion stolen from the Cygnaran Army as well as other spoils, coin Magnus spent wisely. He purchased the first Galleon colossals produced by Black Anchor Heavy Industries, hired a portion of Captain Bartolo Montador’s pirate fleet, recruited every available Steelhead company he could find, and enlisted the services of other skilled warcasters and formidable specialists, several wanted for high crimes in Cygnar. This army proved that Magnus’ reputation as a mercenary warlord was well deserved and played a pivotal role in the outcome of the Second Cygnaran Civil War.
Army Composition An army made using this theme force can only include the following Mercenary models: • Captain Bartolo Montador
• Greygore Boomhowler & Co.
• Captain Damiano
• Kell Bailoch
• Drake MacBain
• Madelyn Corbeau, Ordic Courtesan
• Magnus warcasters
• Orin Midwinter, Rogue Inquisitor
• Non-character Mercenary warjacks
• Dirty Meg
• Steelhead models/units
• Raluk Moorclaw, the Ironmonger
• Croe’s Cutthroats
Special Rules • This army can also include Cygnar Long Gunner and Trencher Infantry units. These units are considered to be friendly Mercenary units instead of Cygnar units and can include attachments. • For every full 20 points of units in this army, you can add one solo to the army free of cost. • Warrior models/units in the army gain Feign Death. (A model with Feign Death cannot be targeted by ranged or magic attacks while knocked down.) • Greygore Boomhowler & Co. gain Ambush. (You can choose not to deploy a unit with Ambush at the start of the game. If it is not deployed normally, you can put it into play at the end of any of your Control Phases after your first turn. When you do, choose any table edge except the back of your opponent’s deployment zone. Place the unit with Ambush completely within 3″ of the chosen table edge.)
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PRIVATEER PRESS FORMULA P3
GRANDMASTER PAINTING COMPETITION Smogcon Edition
Lock & Load GameFest and Gen Con aren’t the only conventions that host Formula P3 Grandmaster Painting Competitions. SmogCon in the UK recently joined the ranks of official painting competitions, and its painters came out with guns blazing. Check out the winning entries here.
Grandmaster Winner/Single Miniature Category
Bronze
Andreas Graae
Silver
Simon Besombes
Bronze
David Berggren Bronze
Kev Martin
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large Miniature Category
Silver
Mark Smith Silver
Andreas Graae
Bronze
Jon Mihr Bronze
David Berggren
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Formula P3 Grandmaster painting: smogcon
group Category
Bronze
Jacob Graham
Bronze
Andreas Graae
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Rough Terrain By Adam Oligschlaeger Writers, producers, and directors spend hours and vast sums of money on backgrounds to immerse audiences in their stories. When we think of some of the most iconic movies and books, the settings often elicit an emotional response from us before the actors even take the stage. Terrain in our games tries to do the same thing— to immerse the players into the unfolding story. Picture the Tharn Bloodtrackers weaving in and out of the forests, stalking their prey, or a trencher commander taking cover behind the ruins of a building while under heavy fire. Images and sounds immediately spring to mind as your characters go to war. It is easy to lose sight of the evocative entertainment that well-crafted terrain can conjurer and instead focus only on the way the terrain can affect gameplay. But just like the backdrop of a movie, terrain can inspire your gameplay to new heights, restore passion to your gaming, and even become an extremely enjoyable hobby in its own right. This series will take you through the process of creating a whole table’s worth of terrain from start to finish. It will include explanations for beginners and useful tips for veterans to help set your own stage for the battles raging across the Iron Kingdoms.
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Basic terraining
Whenever you plan to create a new piece of terrain, set aside some time to identify your constraints and the terrain piece’s purpose. This design process will help you complete the project and be motivated enough to start another. It’s important to know that creating terrain to serve more than one purpose can be extremely helpful for those with limited storage space, time, and materials. One of the easiest projects to create with this idea in mind is a piece of rough terrain that can also act as the base of a forest. Rough terrain represents a patch of land or area where normal travel is impeded by the landscape. The elements should visibly show potential impediments but remain friendly for model placement and general play. In the first part of this article, we look at creating a piece of rough terrain with attention to details that will make your terrain piece stand out. In the second part, we show you how to create some amazing trees that will turn your rough terrain piece into a useable forest. For this project, we will create a general woodlands setting to keep the piece more universal. With a bit of effort, however, you can use these tricks to match your own table or basing schemes.
Getting Started Planning & Design
The types of terrain pieces you have on the table can greatly affect the course of a game. In general, terrain should be a tactical part of the experience, but it should never unbalance a game so much so that a player has a negative experience because of it. The Steamroller rules document recommends using terrain pieces between 3˝ and 6˝ in length and width, so keep that in mind if you intend to use your terrain for tournament play. Still, size is just one of the things to keep in mind when designing terrain. Also ask yourself how it will interact in the game. Further, making a materials list, jotting down any notes or ideas on what works or doesn’t work, and keeping track of useful tutorials will also make the overall job easier. How you layer elements onto your terrain piece is extremely important in developing a sense of realism. Randomly placing elements with no forethought can be disruptive to the piece and cause unforeseen eyesores. Be careful not to make natural pieces too symmetrical or evenly placed, as nature rarely looks as laid out as a golf course! In a natural setting, any event left undisturbed falls into a sequence of deposited layers with the youngest layer on top to the oldest on bottom. For example, if a tree falls over, it will most likely land with force, driving part of the tree into the ground. Over time, layers of soil, moss, and grass will further surround the log as wind, water, and other natural elements work around it. If you want the tree log to look older, surround it with a higher level of ground effects; if you want it to look as if this tree fell recently, make sure that the majority of the log is on top of the ground, possibly with crushed grass underneath it.
Tools list • Coping saw (or other method to cut the MDF base) • Miter box (a rectangle shaped tool guide to enable a saw to cut miter joints at the desired angle) • Formula P3 Hobby Knife • Formula P3 Cutting Mat • Hobby saw
Materials All of these materials can be found at craft stores, DIY stores, and in nature itself. • 1/8-inch Medium Density Fiberboard also known as “MDF” (large enough for the base)
• Patching compound
• Selection of playground bark chips
• Static grass
• Sand and rock mixture • Dried sticks and twigs • Gourd stem (pumpkin)
• Thin gauge wire • Sawdust flock
• Ground foam flock • Clump foam foliage • Basecoat brush • Drybrush brush
Making the Footprint
Whenever you decide to make terrain, you should start with this process to create your base. First, draw your footprint in a bright contrasting color on your MDF piece. Try to use soft slopes and curves to maintain a more natural appearance, one more pleasing to the eye. At this stage, I also try to sketch in elements I know I want the piece to include; in this case, fallen logs, scrub brush, and other woodland elements will not only add to the appearance of rough terrain but will also serve as a great forest base when needed—hello, versatility! This process of sketching ties in with pre-project planning and helps lay out visually what it is you are trying to do. Experiment with elements and lay them out in different ways. A few minutes of preparation can save you hours of fixing errors! To use the coping saw, secure the MDF base to your work area with clamps or an extra set of hands. You want to prevent the piece from moving while you cut. 1) Begin cutting with a focus on power with the up-pull and direction and alignment on the down-push. 2) Gently curve the blade while pulling up to change the direction of the cut to match your design. 3) Continue until you are finished cutting the piece completely. Go slowly and don’t be afraid to start cuts in other places to keep your cuts and the project steady. If you are using a power tool or other cutting device, be sure to cut wide when needed. Remember to go slowly; rushing with tools is the fastest way to hurt yourself. Several companies, such as Broken Egg Games, can also laser-cut MDF templates for you to help speed up the process. Once you have a general shape, use your sandpaper and utility knife to carve and sand a beveled or chamfered edge on your base. This will help keep models a bit more balanced. Make sure to check for jagged or odd edges, and use this time to remove or sand them as well. This will make the piece look better on the table.
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Building Detail Elements Fallen Logs
Use real twigs and sticks for your logs! Always be on the lookout for a twig with good texture and shape to use in terrain building and basing. The fallen logs for this terrain piece will be made to look like older fallen logs. (This is purely a preference, but remember: the deeper into the ground the logs are, the easier it is for a model to stand or be placed on it.) In order to accomplish this older log look, the logs must be cut in half lengthwise and placed on the MDF base before adding the groundwork. This way, the groundwork will cover the sides appropriately and not looked forced or squished. Here’s how it’s done: 1) First sterilize and dry out the twigs and sticks by baking them in the oven for around an hour at 220–250 degrees. Keep an eye on them and watch for any potential burning! 2) Cut the sticks you have selected to be logs so the pieces lay flat on the base when gluing. To cut the sticks, use a hobby saw and miter box, a sharp knife, or a power tool. Go slow here or else you might ruin the logs. The more you cut off the log, the longer it will seem to have been there. Be careful not to go overboard—a log can quickly start looking like a large root. 3) If necessary, sand the bottom of the wood to make sure its surface is smooth and flat—this maximizes the glue points. Try placing the pieces in different combinations until you are happy with the look. Then, glue your logs to the base with super glue.
Mossy Stone
In this project, we use pieces of playground bark chips to represent large pieces of visible stone. (These can be found in playgrounds or at craft and DIY stores.) The bark breaks in a manner that resembles slate stone once painted. This follows the same process as the fallen logs in terms of placement and preparation and gluing. Real stone can also be used, but it is much harder to control the height, which can affect model placement and playability. Search for flat rocks and stones to make sure playability stays high, and grind them flat with a file. This process can be tedious, but it can produce amazing results.
Tree Stumps
Tree stumps can be great visuals on a miniature’s base or piece of terrain. While sculpting them from scratch is possible, a simpler method uses dried gourd stems as the base. 1) Choose a dried gourd stem that resembles a stump. The base should have a treelike thickness and shape, and the gnarled bulges on the sides should look like roots. 2) Carefully remove the stem from the gourd, making sure the base of the stem stays intact. 3) Sterilize and dry out the s tem by baking it in the oven for around an hour at 220–250 degrees. Check on it often to avoid burning it.
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4) Slice off enough of the stem’s top to make it thick enough to play on but not so much that it stops looking like a stump; this thickness will vary depending on your desired effect. 5) Sand the bottom of the gourd stem until it has a flat and level surface. Glue it to the base. 6) After the ground effect has been added, add some sculpting putty to the base bulges to improve the look. 7) Smear putty on each bulge so to increase their thickness. Using your hobby knife or other sculpting tool, scratch the putty with a pull-down motion to create the bark texture. These lines should include a bit of waviness and have uneven spacing to maintain a natural look. This may take a bit of practice to get right. You can also score the gourd stem with a few lines to add to this effect.
Sprawling Roots
There are many ways you can create roots, depending on your project. Real dried roots can work well for terrain projects. A little bit of research and a sharp eye can help you find some great useable pieces. With the amount of wear and tear this piece will likely see, creating your own roots using the following method will give you a more durable result. Unlike the logs and stones and stumps, roots can be added before and after the ground layer, depending on the look you are trying to achieve. They can be sprawling out from under the rocks or logs or connected to your stump. This just takes a bit of modeling putty. 1) Twist smaller gauges of wire together to make a base for thicker roots, and let the ends sprawl away. 2) Bend the wire so it appears to curve in and out of the ground. When we add our groundwork later, some of the roots may be intentionally covered to create a sense of depth. Roots will be thicker at the base, and as they spread out, they become thinner and thinner. To create this thickness, you will need to use putty. 3) First roll the putty into a sausage shape. Using your forefinger and thumb, apply this putty to the larger sections and connection points. For more visually interesting roots, cover the wire with a variety of gnarls and bulges. 4) Scrape in a wood grain texture just as you did before for the stump; use a hobby knife or sculpting tool to make large, uneven lines. Masking tape may also be used for this; wrap and press the masking tape closely to the wire strands. The texture of the tape can be left as is or you can score it with a hobby knife to add a grain effect if desired. 5) Press the roots into the groundwork if laying it on top of groundwork or fill groundwork in around it. Make sure the root points all sink into the ground and lay flat on the piece. Practice this a few times and don’t be afraid to add a little more groundwork or putty to make it work the way you like.
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Groundwork
For this project, we use a thin layer-patching compound as a base layer to build a sense of depth. This will create a layered look and help bring the piece together. To use patching compound, wear gloves, use a spackle knife or sculpting tool, and have water ready to control the spread. 1) Add patching compound around the whole piece. As you work, be sure not to cover the pre-glued elements too much. Carefully build up the side groundwork next to them in a way that’s pleasing to the eye. For a greater sense of depth, simply press into the patching compound in various areas to create high and low spots. Don’t get too carried away—the models need to be able to stand on it. For additional ground texture, apply some watered-down PVA onto the piece, avoiding the pre-glued elements. Using a cutting a mat or a sheet of paper to catch debris, pour a mixture of sand and stone onto the piece for texture. Performing this step while the patching compound is still a bit wet allows you to partially submerge any small rocks. Let the project sit for 15–30 seconds. Then, use gravity to remove the extra sand mixture from the project by tilting the piece over your cutting mat or piece of paper. Save this for later use. Once the groundwork has dried, prime the whole piece in black. You will be drybrushing your terrain piece, so here are some general tips to keep in mind when tackling this process: haze the color on with the drybrush. Carefully and quickly move the brush back and forth across the surface of the miniature. Apply as many passes as you need to create an even “layer’ of color. Never completely remove the last color used from your brush as you work up each section—this helps blend the colors together. The only time to clean the brush clean is before you apply highlights with a very thin dusting of white. Let each layer dry completely before starting the next color for a crisp blend instead of a blotchy bleed. Wait a minute or two before working with the next color!
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Painting Paint Battlefield Brown
Hammerfall Khaki
Morrow White
Black Primer
Iosan Green
Rucksack Tan
Bloodtracker Brown
Ironhull Grey
Trollblood Highlight
Cryx Bane Highlight
’Jack Bone
Umbral Umber
Greatcoat Grey
Menoth White Highlight
Basic Ground
Start by drybrushing a heavy coat of Umbral Umber for the basecoat. Then, drybrush Bloodtracker Brown followed by a lighter layer of Hammerfall Khaki and then ’Jack Bone. Finally, clean your brush and drybrush a small amount of Morrow White to highlight. Don’t be afraid to drybrush over the other elements; you can correct this in the next steps. Your goal for the ground painting is to get a wide and even distribution of colors.
Tree Stumps, Roots & Fallen Logs
Drybrush a 1:1 mix of Battlefield Brown and Cryx Bane Highlight for the basecoat. Follow that with a very light layer of Cryx Bane Highlight. To make the wood grain pop, mix Trollblood Highlight with equal parts water and apply neat, thin streaks with a detail brush along the length of the grain.
Exposed Log Wood
In the areas where you want the wood to be exposed, use Rucksack Tan or ’Jack Bone for the basecoat. You may want to add a thin wash of Battlefield Brown to these areas when done.
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Rock & Stone
Use Greatcoat Grey for the basecoat. Next, drybrush Ironhull Grey and then Trollblood Highlight. Finally, drybrush the rocks with a thin layer of Menoth White Highlight and a light dust of Morrow White.
Moss on Stone
Water down Iosan Green with water (1:1 mix) to make a wash. Apply a thin coat to the recesses of the stone. Then lightly cover the entire stone with it.
Flocking and Flora Let the paint dry for a few hours and prepare for flocking! Flocking and foliage adds realism and hides mistakes. This process represents the live vegetation in our terrain. When adding flocking, do it in layers and use varying types. For this project, we will use a sawdust-based flocking for the first layer, a static grass for the second, and a blended foam turf for the third to act as our briar and brush. All of these components can be purchased in craft stores that support model scale building, or you can order them online. These ground effects should have some variation in color. Clean off your mat or use a large piece of paper below the project. When applying flock, water down some PVA glue until you achieve a good texture. Just make sure whatever glue is used dries clear.
Sawdust Flock
This material is made from dyed sawdust and has a specific texture that makes an excellent first layer of groundcover to build up a sense of depth to your groundcover plants. 1) Place watered-down PVA glue in splotches across the piece. Be sure not to cover any larger rocks/stone, logs, stumps, or roots, and leave a bit of painted ground visible. 2) Sprinkle the sawdust flock directly from a container. Do not pinch it out by hand, as the moisture, oils, and pressure from your fingers can cause it to clump. 3) After letting the project sit for 20 seconds or so, dump the extra flocking still on the project onto your cutting mat or piece of paper to collect and save for later use. 4) Be sure to let it dry completely before moving on to the next step.
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Static Grass
Most miniature hobbyists are familiar with this material—it is a collection of small nylon fibers that are responsive to static electricity. Static grass should be applied just like the sawdust flock with the following differences: 1) The static grass splotches should cover most of the sawdust flocking with a few holes and thin patches of sawdust flocking and the painted ground still poking through. 2) After dumping the excess static grass, blow the static grass still attached to the piece as if you are whistling; you can also use a straw to accomplish this. This will cause the grass to stand up a bit. If you feel particularly creative, you can also apply static electricity with a balloon by waving the statically charged balloon just slightly above the grass in a sweeping motion. You should see the fibers stand up.
Foam Foliage
Use different foam foliage in small parts to act as briar or bush patches; pay attention to the placement here, putting these patches in random patterns in areas with little to no static grass or making sure your foam foliage covers it well. You want to make sure the foam sits fairly flat, so compress it down while applying it and pour slowly to build up thin layers. Super glue works much better in this regard but will stick a bit to your fingers if you’re not careful.
Finishing Touches When the project is completely dry, make a few light drybrushes across the visible flocking layers using varying shades of green, yellow, and brown. Be sure not to overdo it or to accidentally drybrush the other elements. As a last step, seal the whole project with matte varnish and or Dullcoat aerosol sprays.
Wrapping It Up You have now sculpted and wrought your own piece of rough terrain that, with the addition of a few pre-manufactured trees, can easily be used as a forest. You can purchase ready-made trees online or from your local craft stores. Just glue the trees to 40 mm or 50 mm bases for easy placement, and arrange them on your new piece of terrain. In the next article, we will show you how to create a few trees from scratch using several different methods.
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Capturing Vinter’s Son The Blood of Kings Historical Scenario By Douglas Seacat and Will Hungerford May saw the release of The Blood of Kings, a novel by Douglas Seacat featuring events during the Second Cygnaran Civil War, which takes place in 609 AR. In the novel, Allister Caine resumes his longstanding mission to track down and eliminate Julius Raelthorne, Vinter Raelthorne IV’s bastard son. When the book opens, Julius has been taken under the protection and mentorship of the mercenary warcaster Asheth Magnus, who hopes to help Julius seize the Cygnaran throne. Caine and Magnus go head-to-head, and their conflict reaches its climax in Caspia, at a clandestine meeting in a pauper’s graveyard overseen by the Morrowan Church of Forgotten Souls. Throughout the novel, a young but talented member of the Cygnaran Reconnaissance Service, Private Clay Vernor, assists Caine. With Vernor’s help in this encounter, Caine decides to capture Julius rather than to kill him outright, hoping to leave his fate to his uncle, King Leto. If you and your friends are interested in reliving this pivotal clash between Captain Allister Caine and Magnus the Warlord, look no further than this exclusive No Quarter historical scenario! When playing this scenario, we recommend you bring the specific army lists detailed below but feel free to create your own custom Cygnar or Mercenary force to tell your version of this bloody skirmish. If you opt to create your own forces, we recommend you do so with 50-point armies that are still led by Captain Allister Caine and Magnus the Warlord, respectively.
Skirmish in the Graveyard of Forgotten Souls
Special Rules
In this scenario, the Cygnar player is the Attacker, and the Mercenary player is the Defender. The Attacker’s army must be led by Captain Allister Caine, and the Defender’s army must be led by Magnus the Warlord.
If Captain Allister Caine forfeits his Combat Action while B2B with Julius Raelthorne while Julius is knocked down, Caine arrests Julius.
This battle takes place within a Caspian graveyard, and the table should reflect that. The only terrain that can be used in this scenario are a single obstruction (Church building), 10–20 small obstacles (headstones), and 1–2 hills. No terrain feature can be placed within 3˝ of another terrain feature.
Victory Conditions
Both players have a deployment zone of 10˝ and an advance deployment of 16˝. The Defender deploys first and takes the first turn.
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Each player gains an additional model in his or her army. The Attacker gains CRS Private Clay Vernor, and the Defender gains Julius Raelthorne.
The Defender wins if Julius ends his activation in base contact with the Attacker’s table edge or if Caine is destroyed or removed from play. The Attacker wins if Caine arrests Julius or at the end of the Defender’s eighth turn as reinforcements arrive and overwhelm Magnus’ force.
Cygnar
Mercenaries
Captain Allister Caine
Magnus the Warlord
Ace
Ironclad (counts as a friendly Mercenary model and is part of Magnus’ battlegroup)
Minuteman
Nomad
Sentinel
Oren Midwinter
Charger
Julius Raelthorne (described below)
CRS Private Clay Vernor (described below)
Croe’s Cutthroats (max unit)
Rangers
Steelhead Riflemen (max unit)
Trencher Commandos (max unit) Arcane Tempest Gun Mages CRS PRIVATE CLAY VERNOR
2016 v1
CYGNAR HISTORICAL SOLO
JULIUS RAELTHORNE
VERNOR
JULIUS
SPD STR MAT RAT DEF ARM CMD
7
5
2016 v1
MERCENARY HISTORICAL SOLO
5
6
14 11
SPD STR MAT RAT DEF ARM CMD
7
6
MILITARY RIFLE 1
–
7
5
15 15
8
BLUNDERBUSS
RNG ROF AOE POW
10
6
RNG ROF AOE POW
11
8
KNIFE
1
–
12
MECHANIKAL SWORD
RNG
0.5
POW
2
P+S
RNG
7
MODEL E’S DAMAGE
CRS PRIVATE CLAY VERNOR
1
POW
6
P+S
12
MODEL E’S DAMAGE
JULIUS RAELTHORNE
BASE SIZE SMALL VERNOR
BASE SIZE SMALL JULIUS
MARK TARGET – Other friendly Faction models gain +2 to ranged attack rolls against enemy models within 5˝ of this model and in its LOS. TARGET ACQUIRED [JULIUS] – While in this model’s command range, Julius loses and cannot gain Dodge, Parry , and Sucker.
DESTINED FOR GREATNESS – This
model cannot be destroyed or removed from play. When this model is disabled, it is knocked down instead of becoming boxed and its activation immediately ends. While this model is disabled, it cannot activate. If this model is disabled at the beginning of your Maintenance Phase, it heals 1 damage point and is no longer disabled. DODGE – This model can advance up to 2˝ immediately after an enemy attack that missed it is resolved unless it was missed while advancing. It cannot be targeted by free strikes during this movement. PROTÉGÉ [MAGNUS] – While in Magnus’ command range, this model gains +2 MAT and Parry . SUCKER! – If this model is directly hit by an enemy ranged attack, choose a friendly living, non-incorporeal warrior model within 3˝ of it to be directly hit instead. That model is automatically hit and suffers all damage and effects.
MECHANIKAL SWORD Damage Type: Magical
© Privateer Press, Inc. All Rights Reserved. All faction names, logos, warjack, warcaster & warbeast are TM of Privateer Press, Inc.
© Privateer Press, Inc. All Rights Reserved. All faction names, logos, warjack, warcaster & warbeast are TM of Privateer Press, Inc.
Historical Scenario
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Peace of Mind By Aeryn Rudel
Valkar rubbed his hands together and shivered. The sun was sinking on the horizon, and the tolerable cold of the day was giving way to the unbearable chill of the long winter night. His watch didn’t end for another two hours, and he looked longingly back through the gates of Baram Fort toward the light and noise coming from the barracks. He shook his head and turned his gaze back to the small winding road that led up to the fort. Warmth and food would have to wait. Although the High Shield Gun Corps stationed at Baram Fort was not exactly known for following the rigid guidelines set forth by the Searforge Commission, Captain Blackheel considered dereliction of watch one of the few intolerable offenses. Drinking while on duty, fortunately, was not on the captain’s list of punishable activities. “Ecken,” Valkar said to his fellow guard, a much younger dwarf standing on the other side of the wide gate. “Give me a swig of that. These old bones are aching something fierce.”
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Ecken had been dozing on his feet, a skill at which he was quite accomplished. The young dwarf came awake with a start and fixed Valkar with a hazy stare. “Wadja say, Valk?” “I said, gimme a swig of uiske.” Ecken looked down at the battered metal flask he had been clutching to his breastplate and smiled. “Sure, Valk.” He walked across the short space between them, swaying slightly. He was drunk, as he often was, but not falling-down drunk. Yet. Ecken held out the flask. Valkar reached for it, but before he could take it, Ecken dropped it. He stooped to retrieve the container, and his helmet tumbled from his head, revealing the massive scar that ran above his left ear. The surgeons had removed a portion of Ecken’s brain after a Khadoran bullet had plowed through his skull. The hair hadn’t grown back over the terrible wound. Valk grimaced. “I’ve got it, Ecken,” he said, as he gently raised the young gun corps private to his feet. He bent down and
retrieved the flask and Ecken’s helmet, wincing as his aching knees popped. “Sorry, Valk,” Ecken said, accepting his helmet. He put it back on his head, covering up his scar. Valk took a drink from Ecken’s flask, letting the cheap uiske burn a path of warmth down his middle. He handed the flask back. “You’re a good lad, Ecken,” he said. “When our watch is over, we’ll get some food, hey? You need more in your stomach than that Khadoran fire water.” Ecken frowned. “I’m not hungry, Valk. I just want to go to sleep. My head hurts.” Valkar put one gauntleted hand on the younger dwarf’s shoulder. “I know. But I got my orders, and one of them is make sure Ecken eats.” That was true. Captain Blackheel had placed Ecken under Valkar’s care shortly after the private arrived at Fort Baram. It was the only place the Searforge would allow Ecken to serve, a high mountain fort in the middle of nowhere filled with the dregs of the Gun Corps: drunks, thieves, incompetents, and miscreants. Ecken’s wound gave him near constant headaches, and it had made him prone to violent mood swings, leaving him largely unfit for anything but guard duty at a fort that saw visitors no more than once a week. It was a mercy, Valkar supposed, that the Searforge had allowed Ecken to remain in the corps, draw pay, and receive something resembling supervision and care. A black look fell across Ecken’s face, and Valkar thought he might explode into one of his frequent rages. They came on with little provocation, and Ecken would shout and bellow, even physically assaulting anyone who came near. The rest of the dwarves at Baram Fort knew to avoid their injured compatriot during these times, and only Valkar could calm Ecken down, usually. Last week, Lieutenant Murgan, the fort’s ogrun secondin-command, had to restrain Ecken, holding him immobile while he thrashed and cursed. After that, he’d fallen into a black depression that lasted for days. The only thing that seemed to give Ecken some measure of peace was drinking, and though Valkar knew inebriation wasn’t doing anything but masking the pain, he couldn’t begrudge the young dwarf his one escape from a grim reality. “Okay, Valk,” Ecken said, and his face softened. “I’ll eat some porridge. I think I can keep that down.” Valkar smiled, relieved. “Good lad. Now back to your post.” Ecken nodded and walked back to his side of the gate. Valkar didn’t mind looking after the young dwarf; it gave him something to do, a purpose. He’d come to Baram Fort not because he was a drunk, a coward, or some other type of miscreant. His only crime was growing old. He’d served in the Gun Corps for fifty years, never rising above the rank of sergeant because he was happiest in the trenches, wading through the mud and blood with the grunts, and that’s what he’d done for five decades. Then they’d told him he was too old to serve, that it was time to set his rifle and axe down and retire. He’d been offered a fair pension, but what would he do with it? He had no children, no wife, and only distant relatives. He’d get older, grow decrepit, and then die alone. He’d refused to retire and was offered one final post, a place where the Searforge Commission could put him and forget about him: Baram Fort. He’d accepted and found his place among the Gun Corps’ group of misfits. At least he wouldn’t die alone. “There’s a wagon coming, Valk,” Ecken said, pulling Valkar out of his thoughts.
Valkar looked down the narrow road. It was a nameless and littleused trade route that ran from the Rhulic city of Drotuhn and climbed through the Thundercliff Peaks, eventually connecting to Hellspass, the more conventional route for traders traveling between Khador and Rhul. Fort Baram was positioned to guard this all-but-forgotten route from the few travelers and merchants who used it—mostly to avoid the steep tolls of Hellspass. A large wagon pulled by two huge Khadoran draft horses was rumbling toward the fort. The driver wore a heavy black cloak with a hood, and eight men in chainmail hauberks with axes on their belts and rifles over their shoulders walked alongside the wagon. Valkar frowned. He’d never seen a wagon so heavily guarded pass through Baram Fort, and something didn’t feel right. He glanced back through the gates; there were a few other dwarves moving about in the yard, on duty, and two or three more manning the walls, but they were coming up on a watch change and most of the troops were in the barracks. “Let me do the talking here. All right, lad?” Valkar said. Ecken nodded and took another drink from his flask. “And put that away.” The wagon drew to a stop about twenty feet from the gate. It was Valkar’s and Ecken’s jobs to speak with all those passing through the fort and to check their goods for contraband. Valkar picked up his shield, a heavy square thing with a notch at the top where you could rest a rifle, and walked toward the wagon. His breastplate and chainmail felt heavier than usual, and his joints ached with every step. Ecken followed him. “Good day, friend,” the driver in the wagon called down in passable Rhulic. Valkar looked up at him, seeing a weathered, bearded face and intense cold blue eyes that glinted like chips of ice from the depths of his hood. “What’s your business, and where are you headed?” Valkar asked, beginning their standard line of questioning. “I am a dealer in exotic animals, and I purchased one of your famed white bears from a trainer in Drotuhn.” The man looked back at the payload of his wagon. There were three iron cages there, covered in a tarp. The bars were rimed with ice. “We are traveling back to Skirov, where I run a popular menagerie.” Valkar nodded. “Bear, huh?” He’d visited Drotuhn on many occasions, and they were known for quarrying stone, not training dangerous beasts. “Why are there three cages?” The Khadoran merchant smiled. “I was hoping to buy a few other beasts, but the deals fell through. Two are empty.” Valkar looked over at Ecken. The young dwarf was standing on the other side of the wagon, closer to the cages. His brows were furrowed in puzzlement. “I don’t smell bear, Valk,” he said. “I’ve smelled them before. Something stinks over here, but it’s not bear.” The Khadoran’s guards had moved closer, four on each side of the wagon. Their faces were hard, weathered, experienced. They were professional fighting men. “Do you have a bill of sale?” Valkar asked. He could feel the tension in the air. Something was very wrong here, and he felt exposed, vulnerable. He had a horn at his belt that he could sound to alert the fort of an attack, and his hand crept down to it. “Of course,” the Khadoran said. He rummaged through the inside of his cloak. It took a little too long, and Valkar felt his hand drifting down to the haft of his axe. But the Khadoran produced nothing more threatening than a thin sheaf of papers.
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He handed them down to Valkar. Valkar ran his eyes over the first page. The Khadoran’s name was Dima Glukhov, or at least it was the name he’d put on the bill of sale. Everything looked in order. The man had purchased a bear from the market in Drotuhn and paid one hundred gul for it—more money than Valkar would see in a year. He handed the bill of sale back to the Khadoran. “This looks in order, Tradesman Glukhov,” he said. “Excellent. Then we can be on our way and pass through your fortress?” Valkar considered that. The papers were in order, but it was their job to confirm the goods stated by a merchant were actually what they were carrying. He could let them go. Captain Blackheel wouldn’t care a whit. But something bothered him, a curious sense of dread that seemed to hang over the Khadoran and his wagon. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then he turned back to the Khadoran. “One more bit of business. I need to see what’s in those cages and verify if your cargo is what you say it is.” A black look fell across the Khadoran’s face, and his eyes became flat and hard, menacing. “I hardly think that is necessary.” His voice was low, measured. “Perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement.” He reached again into his cloak and pulled out a small sack tied with a drawstring. It clinked. “There is fifty crowns here. Take it and let us be on our way.” It was a lot of money, and almost every other member of Baram Fort would have taken it and let the Khadorans through. It just made Valkar angry. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ecken’s voice cut him off. “Valk, there’s a man in this cage . . . with swords on his hands.” Valkar saw that Ecken had lifted the tarp on the closest cage and was peering beneath it. Valkar had been a soldier for over fifty years, and in that time he’d developed something like a sixth sense when it came to violence. He could almost taste it in the air. He knew the Khadorans were going to attack long before the guard nearest Ecken unlimbered his axe and smashed it into the young dwarf’s helmet, long before the arcane runes formed around Dima Glukhov’s fist and he unleashed a blast of freezing air at Valkar, smashing him to the ground and blackening every inch of his exposed flesh with frostbite. Valkar’s hands were gloved against the chill, and they had kept the worst of the Khadoran sorcerer’s spell at bay. He fumbled for the horn at his belt, hearing Khadoran thugs moving toward him. He brought the horn to his lips and blew a single sharp note. Mindslaver Orixus came awake to the sound of the human and dwarf speaking. He could feel their minds at the edge of his consciousness, but he couldn’t touch them yet. The alchemical mist the human had used on him was crude but effective; it dulled his mental abilities, made his thinking sluggish and uncoordinated. But his faculties were returning to him, and as they did, they brought cold anger and shame. That this pathetic human had managed to ensnare him and four drudges stung him. He’d taken a risk by leaving the hive with such a small guard, but the wounded soldiers on the battlefield near the hive offered a tantalizing collection of raw materials, and he wanted them before his rivals could lay claim. The human had been waiting for him, expecting him. Orixus was hit with the sorcerer’s freezing spell and had been unable to move or think. They’d stuffed him and his drudges into cages, treating him—Mindslaver Orixus, second of five in the Terxat Hive—like a mindless beast.
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Rage flowed through his body, and its heat steadily burned away the fog in his mind. He could feel the human’s alchemical tranquilizer fading, like a melting iceberg. He would soon be free. The sounds of combat erupted outside his cage, and the cephalyx was pleased. His enemies would be distracted, long enough for him to regain full control of his abilities. He gathered all the mental force he could muster and pushed against the poison restraining him, hastening its dissipation. Soon. Valkar climbed to his feet, his legs feeling like they were frozen solid. Ecken had gone down, and he feared the young dwarf had been killed, but he had more pressing concerns. He could hear the dwarves in the fort behind him responding to his horn. The sound of many voices and the clatter of armor drifted through the gates. One of the Khadoran thugs was bearing down on him. The man was big, maybe twice Valkar’s height, and he was swinging a two-handed axe. Valkar brought his shield up and the heavy axe cracked into it, biting deep into the top edge. This is just what Valkar had wanted. He let go of his shield, and his opponent had ten pounds of iron and wood dangling at the end of his nowuseless weapon. The human tried to pull the axe free, but Valkar unlimbered his carbine with practiced ease and shot the man through the chest, the heavy dwarven slug ripping through his chain mail and shredding his heart. Loud cursing in Khadoran drew Valkar’s attention back to the spellcaster Dima Glukhov. The Khadoran had jumped down from the wagon and was holding a single-bitted war axe in his right hand, its head encircled with runes. Glukhov was heading for Valkar, and a ring of azure light was forming around his fist. Valkar backpedaled, heading toward the open gate. He knew the Khadoran spellcaster would easily kill him. The loud cracks of dwarven carbines sounded behind him, and he heard one voice rising above the din. “What in the name of Ghor’s bleeding ass is going on out here?!” Captain Blackheel had a drill instructor’s volume, and everyone turned in his direction. Looming beside him was his second, Murgan. The ogrun was armored head-totoe in chain and plate and had his warcleaver and shield in hand. A line of gun corps riflemen had formed before the dwarven commander, and they parted to let Valkar through. Glukhov was standing in front of his wagon, his men around him. The spell runes had disappeared. “What happened, sergeant?” Murgan asked as Valkar drew near. “We were checking their goods, and they attacked. One of ‘em knocked Ecken down. He’s still out there.” Captain Blackheel grunted in irritation. Then he settled his helmet on his head, hitched his breastplate into a more comfortable position, and took hold of his axe. He stepped through the line of dwarven riflemen, his face a black cloud of anger. “Alright, you bloody Reds,” he began, looking directly at Glukhov. “You can lay down your arms and tell me why you attacked my boys, or I can give the order and shoot you until you stop twitching. What’ll it be?” The captain was black-tempered, surly, and frequently drunk, but he was also one of the bravest dwarves Valkar knew, and he was a skilled battle leader. He’d always meant to ask the captain how he’d ended up at Baram.
Glukhov lowered his axe and smiled. “You seem a reasonable sort,” he said. “I need to get through your fort, and I’m willing to pay to do it.” “You killed one of my boys,” Blackheel said. “I can’t let that stand.” Valkar didn’t know if Ecken was dead, but he dared not say anything now. “And you killed one of mine, so we’re even on that score.” Captain Blackheel spat out the wad of sourleaf he’d been chewing, reached into his pouch for another, and stuffed the dried leaves under his bottom lip. Then he shook his head. “No, I don’t like it. You’re gonna put your weapons down, let us take you into custody, and then we’ll see what the Trademaster at Hellspass has to say about your cargo. Whatever the hell it is.” Glukhov’s eyes went wide, and something that looked like fear flashed across his face. The runes formed around his fist again, and Blackheel raised his hand, signaling to the twenty rifles behind him to take aim. “I mean it, Red,” he said. Valkar felt the air grow thick with tension, but then something else appeared in the back of his mind, a presence, looming and dark. He heard the telltale metallic clatter of locks falling away, and then something rose up over the wagon, hovering like a grim black wraith. Dread speared Valkar’s guts as the thing came into the light, drifting through the air behind Glukhov. It was man-shaped and clad entirely in black leather, but its head was a swollen orb from which five blue lights shone, eyes maybe. Worst of all, four metallic limbs jutted over the creature’s back, each tipped with a hooked blade. “Captain,” Valkar called out, but it was too late. The creature descended on Glukhov like a great black spider, its metallic limbs scything forward. The Khadoran spellcaster’s head came away from his neck in a spray of blood, and he collapsed to the ground twitching. “Fire!” Captain Blackheel called. Nothing happened. Valkar looked down the lines of riflemen and saw blank stares, their weapons hung limply in their hands. They seemed to be enthralled by some spell. He then felt the creature’s presence grow in his mind, and he heard its voice, an irresistible whisper. Come to me. His feet moved at the behest of another, and he saw he was not alone— the rest of Baram Fort had lowered their weapons and were shuffling toward the spindly black horror. He tried to fight it, to push away the monster’s influence, but he couldn’t. He was a prisoner in his own head, watching his body move and react as if it belonged to someone else. The Khadoran thugs were enthralled as well, moving closer to the creature. Valkar was shown images of dark caverns filled with terrible apparatuses where men became monsters, where flesh was replaced with steel and wire, and where the soul and will were scrubbed clean from mortal minds. Yes, this is your future, you pathetic worms, the creature whispered into Valkar’s mind, maybe into all their minds.
Ecken was closer to the black-shrouded monster, and he shuffled up to it. It glanced down at him, and Valkar felt its curiosity ripple through his mind . . . then, shockingly, its fear. The creature tried to move away, but Ecken had his axe in hand. He swung it with all his might, burying the steel in the creature’s midsection, pulling it down and holding it in place. A piercing psychic wail of shock and agony burst through Valkar’s mind as he fell to his knees, clutching his temples. The dwarves around him were doing the same. Ecken yanked his axe free in a spray of black blood and brought it around again, this time in an overhand strike at the creature’s misshapen skull. The blow landed true, and the monster’s head burst like an overripe melon, splattering gore in all directions. The presence in Valkar’s mind winked out, and he was once again in control of his body. He climbed to his feet and broke into a stumbling run toward Ecken. The young dwarf was standing over the corpse of the alien creature, a puzzled look on his face. “Ecken, are you okay, lad?” Valkar said and took Ecken by the shoulders. Ecken smiled and pushed his helmet off his head. It had a big dent in it where the Khadoran thug had struck him. He let the helmet fall to the ground, reached up, and touched the gruesome scar above his ear. “I felt it, Valkar,” he said. “It was in my head, but it couldn’t make me do what it wanted.” He laughed softly. “I think the surgeons cut that part out.” Valkar pulled the injured dwarf into a tight embrace. “Thank the ancestors for that,” he said. He gently pushed Ecken away and held him at arm’s length. “You’re still a soldier, lad. And you did a soldier’s work today, and saved us all. Don’t you forget that.” “Put these bastards in shackles,” Captain Blackheel bellowed behind them. The rest of the gun corps was collecting the weapons of the remaining Khadoran thugs, who had lost all interest in fighting and handed them over without a fuss. “Now put ‘em in cold storage until we figure this mess out.” The captain walked over to Ecken and Valkar and looked down at the corpse of the black-clad creature at their feet. “What in the name of all that is good and green is that bloody thing?” he said. “Never seen anything like it. What about you, old man?” Valkar shook his head. “No, sir.” “Well, put it into cold storage with the rest of these Khadoran idiots,” Blackheel said. “And, Ecken? Good work, soldier.” He then walked away, bellowing more orders. Ecken pulled his flask from his belt and shook it, but he didn’t take the cap off. “Go on, lad. You’ve more than earned yourself a drink,” Valkar said. Ecken looked up at him, his eyes filled with a deep and abiding sadness. The clear understanding of all that Khadoran bullet had taken away from him was overwhelmingly evident on Ecken’s face. It hurt Valkar to see it. “Not now, Valk,” he said, putting the flask away. “Maybe I should eat something.” Valkar looked away and wiped at his eyes, but he was smiling when he turned back. “Aye, lad, let’s get some food into you.”
Movement to Valkar’s left caught his eye. He couldn’t turn his head, but he saw Ecken stand up at the periphery of his vision. He was relieved the young dwarf had survived, but horrified he would be subjected to the same terrible fate as the rest of them.
Peace of Mind
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Uncharted Part One
By Steen Comer, Josh Colón, and Tim Simpson with Matt Goetz Art by Carlos Cabrera, Luis Gama, Mariuez Gandzel, Nikolay Georgiev, Néstor Ossandón, Mateusz Ozminski & Andrea Uderzo “Iron Kingdoms Uncharted” is a series of articles detailing the pirate’s life on the Meredius. With in-depth information on the history, harbors, ships, sailors, and perils of life on Immoren’s seas, this series delves into new content useful for both Iron Kingdoms Full Metal Fantasy and Iron Kingdoms Unleashed roleplaying games. The first installment looks into the history of piracy in western Immoren and takes a closer look at the seas, ports, and sea dogs found in Cygnar, the jewel of the Iron Kingdoms.
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A Pirate’s Life
The people of western Immoren have been seafarers for millennia. In the tribal prehistory of mankind, brave men and women piloted small vessels in the tempestuous Meredius as whalers, explorers, and early merchant-sailors. As the technology of mankind steadily advanced, so too did the ships men used to sail the seas. Whether manning the modest single-mast craft of the tribal era or the vast steamand-sail hybrids of the modern age, there have always been those born to brave the dangers of the seas. For as long as there have been sailors, there have also been pirates. The earliest pirates of western Immoren were little more than maritime bandits and rival tribesmen who stole what sustenance they needed from their fellow sailors. Typically, these nautical robbers came from modest coastal communities and were the seafaring equivalent of highwaymen. In their small ships, they would strike at vulnerable fishing fleets or traders and either steal enough to fill their ships’ holds or take possession of the defeated vessels, gradually building their own pirate fleets.
History of Piracy Early pirates were armed with the weapons of their age, attacking with javelins, arrows, and spears. As weapons became more sophisticated, these sea reavers adapted their fighting techniques to the armaments of their age. From early firearms and cannons to the advanced military technology of current armies, pirates have always tried to outfit themselves with the best weaponry—usually through successful raids on more heavily armed vessels. As their power grew, they preyed on larger and deadlier targets and, in turn, gained better weapons and more valuable cargoes. In time piracy evolved from a time of simple theft for subsistence to the era of the professional pirate—men and women who not only survived on the prizes they took on the sea but earned a profit by hunting the ships of independent merchants and rival nations alike to sell those cargoes for a tidy sum.
The Pirate Kings
Before Toruk’s arrival at the Scharde Islands circa 1000 BR, ruthless pirate kings ruled the region. Fourteen in number, each of these kings commanded an island fiefdom and a vast fleet of ships. Born of a Scharde tradition of powerful tribal warlords, the original pirate kings rose to prominence within years of each other, expanding their territories until they ran into lands claimed by their closest neighbors. After years of infighting, the realms of the pirate kings eventually settled into place. The borders were organic, shifting things, driven by the changing of an island’s allegiance and occasional turncoat captain, but other than minor fluctuations they remained consistent.
To avoid profitless and wasteful infighting, the pirate kings forged an accord with one another in 1100 BR. Known as “The Articles of Agreement,” it outlined the territories of each king and specifications for where each king’s fleet could hunt for targets. The Articles were never a formal alliance but more of a nebulous set of guidelines that each king chose to interpret in a way most beneficial to him. Following the confederation built on the Articles, open conflict between the pirate kings ceased. Agreements and rivalries among them were both short-lived and quickly forgotten. They were able to coordinate their efforts when stronger enemies threatened their mutual existence, but they were largely independent of one another. From the shelter of their sweltering archipelago, the pirate kings plagued their Thurian, Tordoran, and Khardic neighbors. Few navies possessed the skill of the pirate fleets, and the pirates struck mercilessly against seaside villages and river settlements, sailing as deep as the Black Kingdom of Morrdh on the Dragon’s Tongue River. Attempts to retaliate were thwarted by the difficult channels surrounding the pirates’ island strongholds. Of all the mainland kingdoms, only the Tordorans gave the Scharde pirates much difficulty, largely due to the power of the dirgenmast fleet and the skill of Tordor’s captains. The reign of the pirate kings was not long-lived, however. Within a few generations, they were transformed into something far more dangerous and insidious. When Toruk the Dragonfather was driven from the mainland by his misbegotten brood, he traveled to Cryx. There, Lord Toruk began to bend the population of the islands to his will, subjugating the people to forge a new empire that would worship him as a god. At first, Toruk sent a blighted emissary to the fourteen pirate kings, bidding them gather to hear his demands. They were too proud to listen and too arrogant, underestimating the creature that had come among them. Toruk knew he must make an example to convince them. His blighted breath consumed the largest and greatest vessel of the pirate fleets, the Atramentous, transforming it and its crew into deathless servants of indomitable will. Toruk then slaughtered the ship’s owner, King Threnodax, binding the king’s soul in ceaseless torment. Seeing the scope of the power set against them, the survivors prostrated themselves and begged mercy—except for one uncooperative southern king. Lord Moorcraig alone remained stubbornly defiant behind the walls of his castle, but those defenses did not avail him against Toruk’s all-consuming fire. After the remaining pirate kings swore fealty to him, Toruk transformed them into the twelve lich lords of Cryx and set them to rule over his dominion. Thus was born the Nightmare Empire, which has existed ever since as a brooding presence west of the Broken Coast. Countless pirates call the scattered island ports home, whether as members of Lord Toruk’s Cryxian fleets or independent ones. They are notorious for their cruelty and callousness, a trait magnified by dwelling within the aura of Toruk’s profane blight.
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The Orgoth Occupation The Atramentous The Atramentous was once the pride of Pirate King Threnodax’s fleet. Under the leadership of Captain Rengrave, an infamous Scharde pirate who claimed numerous prize ships from mainland fleets, this vessel far outmatched any of its contemporaries on the waves. Built as the largest dirgenmast vessel in history, the ship was laden with treasure and, significantly, the body of a Tordoran nobleman—it was to serve as the Tordoran’s vessel over the waves and into the afterlife. By capturing it, Rengrave committed an unspeakable act of blasphemy, which cemented his black reputation among pirates and sailors alike. Rengrave and his crew were consumed by fire when Toruk claimed the Scharde Islands as his own, but they were not destroyed. Instead, they exist as revenants aboard the Atramentous, now a charred and blackened ghost ship. This ship strikes greater fear than any of the other vessels sailing in the ghost fleet of Cryx, and it has a well-earned reputation as a harbinger of destruction. For sixteen centuries it has plundered and pillaged the Iron Kingdoms, a seemingly indestructible ship manned by a similarly indestructible crew loyal to the oldest and deadliest pirate on the Meredius.
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When the Orgoth came to Immoren, they knew well the power of the sea. After defeating the dirgenmast fleet of Tordor in what would come to be known as the Sea of a Thousand Souls, the Orgoth paid special attention to the shipbuilders of western Immoren. The occupiers burned shipwrights on pyres of their own boats and drowned any sailors they captured. Despite the danger, some brave Immorese kept the naval tradition alive. The sailors of the Scharde Islands, thanks largely to the protection afforded by Lord Toruk, maintained independent pirate fleets. Toruk’s destruction of an entire Orgoth fleet that tried to assault his islands made the Orgoth wary of sailing too close to the Scharde Islands, freeing its crews to build and maintain their ships. These Scharde sailors were careful to avoid Orgoth patrols when they left the close protection of the Dragonfather and preyed primarily on weakened coastal communities considered too small to be worth the Orgoth’s attention. Others preferred to avoid the scrutiny of the Orgoth. In small vessels sailing at night and using isolated coves to hide their ships, these sailors lived as smugglers. When the fires of rebellion kindled in 1 AR following the uprising in Fharin, western Immoren’s handful of brave sailors joined the cause. They were pivotal in many early successes, ferrying information between the scattered pockets of resistance and delivering resources to those who needed them most.
Iron Kingdoms Era and Modern Era
After the people of the Iron Kingdoms finally repelled the Orgoth, they again openly took to the seas. Shipyards and seaports boomed as the Immorese set about reconquering their waterways. The steam engine was a nascent idea before the Orgoth, who quickly crushed it along with many other technologies. Once at the mercy of wind and tide, newly freed Immoren sailors revived the idea of the steam engine to fight the powerful currents of the deeper rivers, and many river ports sprang up almost overnight. Mercantile houses in every coastal nation built impressive fleets, harvesting countless acres of forest to do so. The holds of these vessels carried vast wealth between the cities of the nations, drawing the hungry attention of pirate crews. To protect their trade interests and defend their coastal waters against incursion, each nation built up navies. In time, the trade lanes of western Immoren were thick with a resurgent pirate population and immense national navies to defend against them.
travel and direct sea routes have become more profitable. The booming war industries have also produced significant amounts of affordable surplus steam engines and other parts. The Mercarian League has actually purchased a few of Ord’s decommissioned sailing vessels and retrofitted them with steam power and new guns. The League uses these converted hybrid ships to guard their most precious convoys. Many of the more affluent merchant groups and houses have begun to aggressively seek deep-sea trade routes. These routes are invariably more direct than the typical coastal routes but are exponentially more dangerous. The deepest reaches of the Meredius are ruled by waves half a mile from crest to hollow—in good weather. When a storm arises in these seas, the combination of powerful winds and the already massive waves created by Caen’s three moons creates a seascape that can be described only as apocalyptic. As the merchants thrive, so do the pirates that prey upon them. On the ever-shifting waves of the Meredius, a constant battle of cat and mouse plays out, as pirates, merchants, and navies sail to outmaneuver or overpower one another.
The frequent warfare that plagues the Iron Kingdoms has been good for most of the merchants of western Immoren, but none have benefited more than those who trade by sea. As the usual overland routes become increasingly perilous, river
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Pirates and Privateers Piracy is illegal in all of the Iron Kingdoms. Those captured for the crime of piracy are usually hanged on an execution dock by members of the naval authority, their bodies displayed in gibbets lining the docksides of major port cities. Though piracy is against the law in every mainland kingdom, there is a nebulous classification of sea robbery that falls entirely within the purview of law: privateering. A privateer is an armed private—that is, non-military—vessel that sets out to commit piracy, or “take prizes,” of legal targets. The nature of these targets is determined by a letter of marque and applies only to the governing body that issues it. A hazy distinction exists between pirate and privateer in western Immoren. A number of wanted pirates call themselves privateers, and some produce convincingly forged letters of marque. Equally common, authorized privateers often dabble in a little lucrative piracy and try to disguise these misdeeds by selling their stolen booty on the black markets. The distinction between labels carries significant legal repercussions. A legitimate privateer captain bears a letter of marque, also known as a “reprisal and privateering commission,” that authorizes him to conduct acts of aggression against vessels of hostile foreign powers, including seizure of ships and their cargoes. Privateers captured by enemy navies can expect treatment as prisoners of war rather than immediate hanging as pirates. When interacting with authorities of Khador, Ord, or Cygnar, privateers have better odds of survival and greater opportunities to plead for freedom, though the Protectorate of Menoth and Cryx afford few such opportunities to privateers captured in their waters. Ownership of a legitimate letter of marque does not guarantee safety, depending on the political climate. Some privateers find themselves cut loose during the transition from one sovereign to another. The authority given to certain trading houses blurs the line between pirate and privateer even further. The trading houses are given a number of letters of marque that bear the official seals of their nation, and the traders are given authority to dispense them to whomever they please. On occasion, a naval officer will capture a pirate ship only to discover that it and its crew bear the full legal authority of his nation and by law must be let go.
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Cygnar As the jewel of the Iron Kingdoms, Cygnar tries to maintain an air of legitimacy when dealing with privateers while simultaneously maintaining some of the strictest laws against piracy in western Immoren. By the letter of the law, the distinction between privateer and pirate is clear: only those captains and vessels issued an official letter of marque may legally seize, detain, and confiscate items from a ship suspected to be an enemy of the Crown and her interests. This is also true for privateers in the service of the Mercarian League, and any ship attempting such activities without official sanction is considered to be crewed by criminals and is subject to penalties under the law. Nevertheless, in reality, this line can become blurred, as it is common practice for alleged pirate ships to be hired by the Royal Navy and Mercarian League as mercenaries for individual missions. Furthermore, certain disreputable ships receive pardons or even a letter of marque through the use of backroom deals and promises, but such corruption is difficult to trace and even harder to prove in a court of law. Cygnar’s seas abound with sailors who live in the uncertain space between legitimate privateers who serve the interests of king and country and miscreant pirates who prey on their countrymen as often as the ships of rival nations. The letter of marque stands as one of the most honored traditions in the Cygnaran military, going as far back as the founding of the Royal Navy. This honor, bestowed upon only the most proven and trusted ships, is seen as both a sign of favor from the Crown as well as a major responsibility to uphold. While any ship can apply for this commission, only proven vessels are truly considered for acceptance. The competition for Cygnaran vessels to earn their marque is fierce, with many ships volunteering for dangerous patrols alongside navy scouting vessels or to protect shipments that must venture close to known Cryxian waters. The ways a ship can serve the Crown are many, but nothing can guarantee an eventual letter of marque; it is not unheard of for ship captains to spend years trying to gain favor, only to have their ships and crews to end up at the bottom of the Meredius for all their trouble. The Naval Auxiliary Board, led by Vice Admiral Cassandra Mormont, oversees both the issuing of marques and the handling of all privateer affairs from its headquarters in Mercir. Once a ship receives a letter of marque, its captain and crew become commissioned privateers and are considered members of the naval auxiliary, subject to all protections and obligations therein, as well as receiving the privilege of attacking and seizing enemy vessels and their cargoes for sale and profit. Officially, Cygnar prides itself on strict oversight of its privateers, holding them to a high standard. Any privateers abusing their commission may have their marques rescinded and face possible jail time. It is not easy keeping track of all privateer activities, however, as Cygnar boasts the largest stretch of coastal shores in western Immoren. Many crews, far from the oversight of the
navy, gradually resort to outright piracy. Some are driven by desperation when lacking legitimate targets, but others choose to cross into piracy out of simple greed. Privateering for the Mercarian League may be the single most lucrative venture for any crew as well as the most dangerous. League ships present tempting targets for Cryxian and Ordic pirates and rival Cygnaran shipping companies alike, and escort ships face frequent engagements. To balance out this danger with equal reward, the Mercarian League includes a sizeable stipend as well as salvage rights for their ships. While the Mercarian League only officially recognizes privateers with a current and legitimate letter of marque from the Cygnaran Navy, they are known to be flexible, particularly when working with well-performing vessels or skilled crews. It is an open secret that the League is not above employing known pirate vessels, and those who serve the League’s interests may well find themselves pardoned by the government for minor or hard to prove crimes, even occasionally receiving an actual letter of marque from the navy. Such examples of graft and corruption from the Mercarian League and ranking naval officials are far more common than the military cares to admit, and on the rare case that proof is available, convictions have been known to happen. In Cygnar, the penalties for piracy and privateers who abuse their commission are among the most severe in all of the Iron Kingdoms. In many cases, those only accused of piracy are subject to flogging, branding, and other abuses while awaiting trial, though the courts take a dim view of prisoner mistreatment at such a level. Privateers who break the law not only have their commissions revoked but may be retroactively branded as pirates, facing the appropriate sentence of execution by drowning, hanging, or gibbeting. While the death sentence is usually reserved for the captain, first mate, and senior officers, it is not unheard of for an entire crew to be put to death, if their actions merit such severe punishment. Additionally, the Mercarian League is ruthless to those who cross them, placing some of the largest bounties in all of western Immoren on crews who betray or threaten their interests. These bounties can become so large some captains find it difficult to gain protection in any port. Even in the relative safety of ports that cater to pirate crews, the allure of an immense bounty can turn pirate against pirate. For the worst offenders, the Mercarian League can even offer barristers to represent the crews of pirate ships who apprehend a notorious target, though such offers are extremely rare. One of the largest outstanding Cygnaran bounties is for the infamous Khadoran pirate “Mad” Ivan Ushkunik, who has not set foot off of his ship, the Broken Cutlass, for nearly thirty years.
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Cygnaran Ports Clockers Cove
As the leading port city for scoundrels, smugglers, and pirates across Cygnar, Clockers Cove lives up to its moniker of “Little Five Fingers.” Clockers Cove is unlike most other cities— while it generally has clear and separate sections of the city for industry and housing, there is no proper market district. Instead, all manner of shops, tents, and dubious individual salesmen are littered throughout the various streets, canals, and alleyways of Clockers Cove. Due to the somewhat casual attitude toward minor crimes in the city, many of these vendors sell all manner of items, though tracking down a place that sells a specific good or service can be tricky. While there are conventional shops with signs indicating what one might find inside, for truly rare or less-than-legal items, developing a rapport with the locals is essential.
Services Black Anchor Heavy Industries: This factory is perhaps one of the largest and most notable in Clockers Cove. Once the premier shipwright of the cove, Black Anchor has gradually shifted production over to the manufacture of warjacks. It is the largest privately held warjack factory in the Iron Kingdoms, and it focuses production on ’jacks for privateers, mercenary companies, and private individuals. Black Anchor also provides retrofitting for sailing vessels to upgrade them to steam-and-sail hybrids, combining its new expertise in steam-engine production with its tradition of fine shipcraft.
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Clockwerk Arms: One shop with unambiguous wares is the renowned Clockwerk Arms, a noted manufacturer of repeating pistols and rifles, owned and operated by the famous Silas Fonworth. Though Clockwerk Arms focuses primarily on fulfilling its contracts with the Cygnaran military, Fonworth sometimes fulfills individual orders that present unusual challenges or come with a substantial offer. For vessels needing repair, Clockers Cove has a variety of skilled and respected shipwrights, with the Studded Mast, overseen by Master Oberton Drex, being the most sought after. Westlor’s Secret: While it is true that Clockers Cove has no central marketplace, one of the most notorious events in the city is known as the night bazaar, also called Westlor’s Secret, though in truth it is a secret to very few. One night a month on the outskirts of the city near Westlor’s Beach, the largest gathering of vendors, shop keeps, and tradesmen in town sets up shop in row after row of tents. Gaslight torches and fire pits illuminate the mercurial market, which offers as much music and revelry as bartering and profit. While this is the best time and place to find the rarest and most illicit goods Clockers Cove has to offer, it is also a particularly dangerous atmosphere, as muggers, thieves, and worse take advantage of the drinking and celebrating to catch visitors unaware, taking them for all they are worth.
Locales Clockers Cove Library: Another noteworthy and peculiar locale is the Clockers Cove Library and the unseemly number of sailors and pirates who enter its doors weekly. Apparently there is a story passed on by many Cygnaran seadogs that one of the founders of the town, Hegan Westlor, the self-styled pirate admiral, hid several clues within the library that lead to a map containing the locations of several cargo-filled shipwrecks and caches of buried treasure scattered across the gulf of Cygnar. Whether there is truth to this tale or if it’s merely sailor talk is unknown, but most of the library’s staff are amused to see so many illiterate pirates meander among the halls of the library, at least until a frustrated seaman begins ripping pages out of books and they have to call the local authorities. Exotic Oddities: This notable shop offers difficult-to-find luxuries and curios from all around western Immoren. Everything from Iosian mechanika to Orgoth relics and ancient tomes can be found there, and its Rhulic proprietor, who only goes by the moniker Vystral, will dazzle any non-human customer within earshot with exuberant tales of how he came to possess each “unique” item. Why he seems to generally dislike humans is unknown, but rumors suggest that several organizations such as the Fraternal Order and even the Order of Illumination keep a close eye on Vystral’s wares, to the point that the shop occasionally closes while Illuminated ones question the owner about his newest acquisitions.
McCreevy’s Rest
Before the construction of the prison on Bloodshore Island off the coast of the Protectorate in 260 AR, Cygnar deported its criminals and political dissidents to another island. Though originally constructed by the Orgoth during their occupation of western Immoren, the prison on the smaller isle contains little of the usual architectural styling associated with the invaders. Instead, it is one of function, built from the supplies available on the island itself. Postrebellion, Cygnar claimed the structure and renamed it Abernathy Penitentiary. The small island sits at the southeastern end of the Broken Coast beyond the purview of Cygnaran shipping lanes. Under the Cygnarans, the prison was primarily used to house pirates caught raiding Cygnar’s southern peninsula and the surrounding island chain. While possessed of admirable defenses, the island was lost when a sailor named Jones McCreevy launched an assault upon the prison to free his brother and shipmate, Clint McCreevy, in 245 AR. Though Jones succeeded in taking the island, Clint was killed during the uprising and later buried outside the prison walls. Afterward the island received its current moniker of McCreevy’s Rest. Since the island changed hands, it has become a frequent stop for pirates and privateers of every ilk, serving as both a trading post for illegal goods and a waypoint for slave traders traveling between the Gulf of Cygnar and Blackwater. Even after nearly seven hundred years, the prison itself still stands, its walls reinforced with fresh constructions and
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IRon kingdoms Uncharted rows of cannons lining its battlements, cannons taken from the decks of plundered Cygnaran vessels. The island remains under the control of a group of pirates called the Brotherhood of Coin, whose leadership claims to be of blood relation to the McCreevys. While many pirate ports may be rough and tumble, McCreevy’s Rest has developed a no-nonsense reputation and is considered a place of business rather than pleasure. Any pirate crew members who do not follow the edicts set down by the brotherhood find themselves turned away, often with cannons sighted on their hull.
Services Arms & Weaponry: Over the course of its history, McCreevy’s Rest has repelled more than a few attempts by the Cygnaran Navy to take back the island. While the pirate control of the island is a black mark on the reputation of the Southern Fleet, Cygnar can ill-afford to send a large flotilla to deal with McCreevy’s Rest. To dedicate such resources to the task could present an opportunity for a larger Cryxian incursion, so the efforts to reclaim the prison island have been limited. In each instance, the defenders inflicted such damage upon the assailants that years lapsed between attempts. As a result of the island’s need for stern defenses, it has developed a modest arms market. Small arms or additional weaponry for ships can be obtained from the Brotherhood of Coin, though most of their offerings are of Cygnaran manufacture, having been liberated from the Royal Navy. Slave Trade: The island’s position between the Gulf of Cygnar and Blackwater has granted it a significant role in the region’s slave trade. While it is true that some slave ships simply stop at McCreevy’s Rest to resupply midway through their travels, for many others the island has become their primary destination for offloading goods. Rather than making the trek to Cryx themselves, these crews sell captives to the Brotherhood of Coin for a lesser rate. The slaves are then held in one of the prison’s intact cellblocks until resold to crews willing to sail to Blackwater for a marginally higher price.
Locales Cellblocks: The primary function of the cellblocks on McCreevy’s Rest are to hold those sold to the Brotherhood of Coin until they can be resold to other pirate crews bound for Cryxian ports. With the booming slave tr ade, conditions are overcrowded, and the meager rations provided to prisoners by the Brotherhood are often cause for violence among the captive population. Central Prison: What formerly served as the warden’s office and guard quarters of Abernathy Penitentiary is now the headquarters for the Brotherhood of Coin. The Brotherhood’s leader, Quintin McCreevy, can often be found here, though he rarely grants audiences with outsiders.
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Market: The prison’s courtyard has been transformed into an all-hours marketplace for illegal goods. Anything from forged letters of marque to stolen firearms can be purchased if the coin is right. McCreevy’s Rest is also home to a number of Cygnaran and Ordic fences willing to purchase stolen cargo. For crews interested in converting their haphazard loot into coin, these fences are a useful resource.
Individuals Quintin McCreevy: The current leader of the Brotherhood of Coin, Quintin McCreevy is both a stern leader and shrewd negotiator. On the shores of McCreevy’s Rest, his word is law, and he has little tolerance for those who would test his patience or authority. While members of the Brotherhood remain loyal to Quintin, there have been recent rumors questioning whether he is truly the descendant of Clint and Jones McCreevy or if he is merely an imposter.
Scuttlebutt True Blood There are rumors in the Ordic port of Five Fingers and at McCreevy’s Rest regarding the true bloodline of Jones McCreevy. Some claim that Quintin McCreevy is no relation to the family line and simply took on the name, as leadership of the Brotherhood of Coin must be passed to a blood relative of either of Jones or his brother Clint. There is a sailor living on Chaser Island in Five Fingers named Tamm McCreevy who is suspected to be a true blood relative. If Tamm is ever brought to McCreevy’s Rest, he could destabilize the balance of power there. Quintin is offering a steep bounty to be “reunited” with his lost brother, but many believe he wishes Tamm eliminated to secure his power. Quintin’s opponents would like to see him replaced with Tamm, thinking that the Ordsman would be easier to manipulate than the strong-willed Quintin.
The Seas of Cygnar
The Seas of western Immoren are a series of bodies of water that make up the greater Meredius off the western coasts of Khador, Ord, Cygnar, Cryx, and the Protectorate of Menoth. While many of these waterways are vast and empty, many others can provide opportunities for characters to make their fortunes in trade, privateering, and piracy. Game Masters, in turn, have countless options to tell great and detailed stories as well as to provide numerous challenges to their players.
The Sea of a Thousand Souls The Sea of a Thousand Souls is a small stretch of the Meredius that begins at the Sailor’s Lament and sweeps down to the Cygnaran port city of Ceryl, where it meets the Wailing Sea and the start of Cryxian waters. In cold months, fogs roll over the Sea of a Thousand Souls from the moors of Ord and northern Cygnar to blanket the sea, and ships plying its waters must take care to avoid running aground.
of the Meredius, taking with them the bodies and souls of thousands of Tordoran and Thurian sailors. Every ship that sailed against the Orgoth burned, and their sailors died by fire, poison, or with lungs filled with the brine of the sea. The Tordorans put up a gallant fight, destroying many enemy ships, but eventually gave way to the superior numbers and terrifying new weapons of the invaders. On that fateful day when the last Dirgenmast captain went into the deep, he ordered his burning ship to ram the Orgoth flagship and take it and its crew to the bottom of the sea with him. So sailors claim to still hear the horns of the Dirgenmast ships, echoing over the Sea of a Thousand Souls. This section of the Meredius is bloated with the energy from the souls of the dead and is saturated with the dark magics of the Orgoth, which seemed to have changed the very nature of the sea itself. Sailors are known for their embellished stories, but several of the stories told about the Sea of a Thousand Souls are true. Balelight flickering in the rigging of ships is a common occurrence, as are sightings of spectral Dirgenmast ships on the horizon. Many crews who sail on the sea report seeing the shades of their Tordoran forbearers beneath the waves, beckoning the living to join them in death. Ordic captains often hang pendants to Asc. Doloven on the mainmast of their ships to ward against the unnatural dangers of the Sea of a Thousand Souls.
The Sea of a Thousand Souls gets its name from the time of the Orgoth invasion in the Battle of a Thousand Sails. Fleets of Tordoran ships fought numerous battles against the Orgoth, trying to repel them and keep them from landing on their soil. Countless ships fought and sank to the bottom
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Sailor’s Lament
Sailor’s Lament is a broad bay that leads to Corbhen in Ord. This bay’s name is apt, to say the least. Sailing into the bay toward Corbhen, there are signs of numerous wrecked ships. This part of the bay is scattered with small but dangerous coral reefs that will tear through a ship’s hull and shallows that can careen larger ships. Inexperienced sailors trying to navigate the bay run the risk of adding to the tally of wrecks in the bay. Once beyond the reefs and nearer to Corbhen, the bay becomes swampy and hard to navigate, an effect of being near so many moors on the Ordic coast.
Shearwater Narrows & the Bay of Stone
Shearwater Narrows leads into the Bay of Stone and to the most infamous pirate port in western Immoren, Five Fingers. Shearwater Narrows and the Bay of Stone together are likely the most active bay in all of western Immoren. The bay’s name comes from the various stone outcroppings from the sea, which can make travel through the bay hazardous if one is unfamiliar with the routes used to reach and exit Five Fingers by water. Traffic moves in and out of the bay at all times of the day, so much that the Ordic Navy has a token force of ships stationed here to help guide the flow of incoming and outgoing ships. They occasionally board and search ships, but many of the officers turn their heads from the major smuggling violations once a few coins have been dropped into their purses. Once through the bay and in Five Fingers, ships can sail up the Dragon’s Tongue River, which crosses the majority of western Immoren. The amount of trading, smuggling, privateering, and outright piracy that happens in the Bay of Stone and along the Dragon’s Tongue River’s course is astounding. There is so much that Cygnar and Ord couldn’t regulate it all, even if they wanted to. This bay, port, and river provide much of the commerce to Ord and Cygnar. Any number of opportunities exists for sailors to make their fortunes, if they shed a few scruples and line a few pockets along the way.
Sea of a Thousand Souls Encounters
Sailors on the Sea of a Thousand Souls may encounter any number of strange, even supernatural, phenomena. Most of these events are unsettling but not dangerous. Some, however, can imperil the body and sanity of those who encounter them. The following table allows Game Masters to randomly generate encounters for characters sailing through the Sea of a Thousand Souls or another haunted region of the Meredius. For most travel, a single roll per week of journey should suffice.
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2D6 Roll
Encounter
2–3
Lights in the Deep
4
Voices on the Wind
5
Unnatural Fog
6
Visitation
7
Piercing Wail
8
Hallucinations of the Past
9
Visitation
10
Spectral Passenger
11
Ghost Ship
12
Unnatural Maelstrom
Ghost Ship: A rotten ship with tattered sails emerges from the gloom or darkness, crewed by shades under the command of a mad spectral captain. The ghost ship is a sloop armed with d6+2 deck guns. There are 2d6+10 shades and a single specter aboard. A ghost ship may not be hostile, though any hostile actions taken against it cause the undead crew to attack. The specter is bound to the ship and controls any shades aboard. Hallucinations: Characters aboard the ship must immediately make a Willpower roll against a target of 14. Those who fail experience vivid hallucinations of past battles fought on the sea. The hallucinations last for up to 2d6 hours. Lights in the Deep: Pale ghostly lights glow in the sea, illuminating the silhouettes of drowned sailors gliding alongside the ship. The lights and ghostly forms in the water draw the attention of sharks, sea drakes, and other similar predators, but otherwise there is no effect. Piercing Wail: A keening shriek echoes from the darkness or fog of the Sea of a Thousand Souls. The piercing wail is a source of situational fear that causes Terror [14]. Characters who fail the Willpower roll to resist Terror suffer the normal penalties for Anxiety. Characters who are Panicked or worse cannot work on the open deck of the ship. Spectral Passenger: A specter with the Bound and Temporal Powerlessness deathly burdens appears on the ship. During the day, it fades from existence and cannot leave the ship. The specter can have any deathly endowments, but Dark Resurrection, Possession, and Spectral Illusion are particularly appropriate. Unnatural Fog: A swirling unnatural fog descends on the sea, within which spectral figures or tattered derelict ships wisp in and out of existence. Unnatural fog grants characters stealth and +4 on sneak rolls and visibility is reduced to 30 feet (5˝). Sailing, ranged attack, and magic attack rolls suffer a –2 penalty. Unnatural fog lasts for 4d6 hours. Unnatural Maelstrom: An unnatural maelstrom stirs around the ship. Replete with lightning, howling winds, and greenish balefire that glows along the rigging, this storm contains the shadowy figures of drowned sailors
caught in the waves, visible only in snatches during flashes of lightning. Increase the target number of all Sailing rolls by +4 for a ship caught in the maelstrom. An unnatural maelstrom lasts for d3+3 hours. Visitation: A shade appears on the ship. The shade may be a lost crewmember, passenger, or even a builder who died during the construction of the ship. Voices on the Wind: Distant voices carried by the wind call out to the crew by name. The voices beg for help, whisper of a crewmember’s past transgressions, attempt to lure the ship off course, and so on. The first time a character hears the voices, he must make a Willpower roll against a target of 15. The voices last for d3+3 hours before fading away.
The Wailing Sea As the Sea of a Thousand Souls sweeps south, it settles and becomes what is known as the Wailing Sea. This large tract of seascape stretches from the Scharde Islands all the way to the Gulf of Cygnar. Howling gales blow in from the open ocean, causing powerful and unpredictable tides that break on the windward coast of Cryx. Even in the shelter of the leeward side of the Scharde Islands, the whipping winds blow strong through the straits and channels of the Wailing Sea. Some claim the sea gets its name from these winds, but others claim it is so named for the cries of those who have lost their families to its unpredictable tides. The Wailing Sea is largely considered Cryxian territory. As such, the area is rife with piracy, and myriad ships are lost every year to the predation of Scharde pirates and Satyxis boarding parties. Many of the islands are deeply affected by dragon blight, as the Dragonfather, Toruk, roosts here in the city of Skell. However, there are enough smaller, unaffected islands in the Broken Coast that many pirates and privateers have set up bases of operations among them. Countless pirate havens and ports dot the islands off the Broken Coast. Whether independent or in the employ of Cryx, there are plenty of options here for enterprising crews who aren’t afraid of sailing so close to the Nightmare Empire.
Eyewall Bay
Eyewall Bay is in the southernmost section of the Wailing Sea where it slowly becomes the Gulf of Cygnar. Its unique name comes from the peculiar erosion occurring in the chalky cliffs that ring the bay. As time has worn on and the tides have eaten away at the stones and cliff faces, deep pits in the cliffs have revealed the substrate of darker rock, leaving many of them looking like piercing eyes. Superstitious sailors say these “eyes” are warnings to those who would try to attack Cygnar from the sea. More recently, as technology has advanced, the Great Cygnaran Observatory was constructed in the mountains northwest of the bay, visible from the tributary that empties into the bay. Most visiting scholars and academics travel upriver to the Great Cygnaran Observatory, as the river is one of the safest routes of travel to its location. While not
a fortune-making venture, transporting and protecting scholars upriver provides supplemental income to ships that travel the Eyewall Bay.
Windwatcher’s Passage
Windwatcher’s Passage is one of the most active and dangerous stretches of the Wailing Sea. This passage between Gharlghast Island and Giant’s Head is named appropriately; the winds here pick up quickly and are both potent and turbulent. Pirates commonly attempt to lose Cygnaran patrols through this area by using the powerful winds to speed away from their pursuers. While Cygnar’s fleets do patrol the area, these patrols are small and avoid the passage if at all possible. The real powers in the area are the Cryxian Black Fleets. Even ships in the employ of Cryx run the chance of being boarded and seized by other, larger Cryxian vessels. Toruk’s Black Fleets are unmatched on the high seas, between their blackships, boarding parties, charnel ships, and Revenant pirate crews. Cryx dominates this area of the Wailing Sea and only the bravest sailors—or the craziest—attempt to sail through Windwatcher’s Passage willingly and more than once. Working for Cryx provides plentiful opportunities to make coin, but failure often means serving the Nightmare Empire forever in undeath.
Gulf of Middlebank
To the east of Windwatcher’s Passage is the Gulf of Middlebank. This gulf does not yet have a major port for traders and sailors to stop for commerce and resupply. In fact, this area is relatively free of settlements, as the western side of the bay is predominantly swamplands and marshes. Some scattered and isolated fishing villages sprout up from the swamp, but they are infrequent and of little value to a ship’s crew. The eastern side of the bay is mostly sheer cliff faces where the Wyrmwall Mountains meet the gulf. There are a few inlets where a small sloop could stop for some repairs or could set anchor for a night, and smugglers sometimes use the shallow coves in the bluffs to hide from Cygnaran patrols. The Foxbridge River empties into the Gulf of Middlebank, which provides some opportunities to trade with the few towns that dot the river near the interior, but traders must be careful, as gatormen and bog trogs live in the marshes along the Foxbridge River and are happy to prey on any slow-moving vessels that drift through their territory.
The Gulf of Cygnar The Gulf of Cygnar is a fairly large gulf and is home to several of the most important cities and ports in the Iron Kingdoms. The gulf is an extremely busy area with trade coming out of Clockers Cove, Caspia, Sul, and even the capital city of the Protectorate of Menoth, Imer, has a tributary leading in and out of the gulf. While privateering and piracy can still be had in any of these ports and along these shores, it is also possible honest traders to make quite a good living at trading just within the gulf itself. The Cygnaran Southern Fleet actively patrols this area and keeps it relatively calm and secure. Unsavory elements can still be found here; they are just subtler or keep well informed of naval doings.
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Deadsands Bay
The Deadsands Bay is an oddity within the Gulf of Cygnar. While the lands surrounding the gulf, specifically along the Cygnaran coast, are vibrant and lush with vegetation, the coastline of the Protectorate is a vast horizon of desert, and the Deadsands Bay is no exception. The sandy, cracked clay of the shore is a ruddy, reddish-brown color in contrast to the majority of the Protectorate’s yellow and white sandy shores. Some academics believe that this coloration is due to underground vents of Menoth’s Fury along the coastline, while more superstitious sailors say is a stain on the land left by innocent blood spilt by the Protectorate. The Deadsands Bay is a graveyard of wrecked ships. Frequent storms and frequent reefs cause ships to sink off the coast of the Deadsands Bay year-round. Anytime there is a storm or an accident that wrecks and sinks a ship, within days its cracked and weathered shell washes up on the shore of the bay. Idrians living in villages farther inland haul the vessels up from the short to strip them of goods and disassemble them for their timbers, a rare commodity in the area. A graveyard of disassembled wrecks lines the shore, some of these wrecks many centuries old. Some sailors have claimed to see specters within these ships and wandering the shoreline, but these are often considered to be exhaustion-induced hallucinations.
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Pirate Characters
Playing a pirate- or naval-themed campaign provides all sorts of opportunities for interesting gaming experiences. While it may seem like common sense to require all players to take the Pirate career, virtually any traditional career can be played in a pirate game and still fit with the overall flavor of the setting. Many Arcanists, Alchemists, Aristocrats, and Gun Mages seek passage aboard ships headed to various destinations, and occasionally, boarding a less-thanreputable ship may be the best way to keep a low profile. Any skilled Rifleman, Pistoleer, or Soldier can find a place in a crew as hired security or an armed escort for sensitive cargo. Many careers lend themselves to stowing away on a ship, such as the Bounty Hunter looking for her target or the well-intentioned but delusional priest looking to bring salvation to wayward souls. Another valid and time-honored way to bring characters with diverse careers into a pirate game is to introduce them in minor antagonistic situations. A character playing a Stormblade, Trencher, or Iron Fang could be part of local military security that has to choose between following unjust orders or eventually joining up with the party. Perhaps a character playing a Protectorate career is on a holy mission for the Temple and sees the rest of the crew as a pragmatic means to an end. Even a Mage Hunter of Ios may join up with an unsavory lot of sailors if it means getting a chance to finish off a powerful human magic user. While these antagonistic introductions can be a great way to bring a unique group together, make sure that all players remember not to get carried away and that it’s about the enjoyment of all.
Pirate Career Options
Only a character who begins the game with the Military Officer career can be a Naval Officer. A character taking this option: • Begins the game with the Battle Plan: Coordinated Strike, Master and Commander, and Natural Leader abilities but not the Battle Plan: Call to Action or Team Leader abilities • Begins the game with Sailing 1 and Swimming 1 but not Medicine 1 • Begins the game with Officer’s cutlass or pistol, Officer’s uniform, and 65 gc
Smuggler (Thief)
Even among pirates and raiders, the smuggler is known for living dangerously, as the punishments for slipping illicit items through local security are always severe. Capable of transporting captured (or stolen) goods past even the most guarded checkpoints, smugglers excel at hiding illicit loot from the scrutiny of dock bosses and naval patrols. From Berck to Blackwater, Smugglers are considered indispensible for acquiring and transporting the rarest of goods. While they risk severe punishment if caught, those with the brains and talent to secure their cargo from prying eyes often enjoy lucrative rewards. Only a character who begins the game with the Thief career can be a Smuggler. A character taking this option: • Begins the game the Port of Call and In Plain Sight abilities but not the Dodger ability • Begins the game with Connections (criminal) or Connections (pirate crew) • Begins the game with Deception 1, Bribery 1, and Sailing 1, but not Escape Artist 1 or Pickpocket 1 • Begins the game with 175 gc but does not begin the game with thieves’ tools
New careers options available to Iron Kingdoms Full Metal Fantasy characters are described below. A player can choose to use as many career options as he wishes during character creation and can take some or all of the options for which his character meets the requirements.
New Abilities
Naval Officer (Military Officer)
When a character attempts a Detection roll to find any items hidden by this character, increase the Target Number by 5.
Sailing the oceans of western Immoren is a treacherous and difficult way of life, and those who choose this path look to their commanding officers for leadership and guidance in the face of adversity. It takes a particular kind of strength and willpower to lead a crew of hardened sailors—often requiring a balance of cruelty and kindness—and to maintain morale while keeping the most willful sea dogs in line. Still, a good leader will inspire respect from all under his command, and whether through fear or respect, any Naval Officer worth his salt will keep his ship and crew intact.
In Plain Sight Prerequisite: Deception 2
Master and Commander Prerequisite: Command 2, Sailing 1 While this character is in command of a sailing vessel, all crew aboard that vessel gain an additional die on naval combat rolls. Drop the lowest die of each roll.
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IRon kingdoms Uncharted
New Gear
Life on the Meredius is not easy. To help deal with the many challenges of sailing, naval warfare, survival, and salvage, the sailors of western Immoren must adapt or devise specialized equipment. Every piece of gear must serve its purpose well and must be durable enough to withstand conditions on the water, simple enough to be repaired far from port, compact enough to fit in a ship’s limited free space, and light enough to avoid bogging down the ship. Some gear is a simple modification of that found on land, like the boarding axe or cutlass. A boarding axe is lighter than most combat axes and is a useful multipurpose item that can chop a fouled line or an enemy’s grappling rope, crack open a keg, or cut through a bulkhead, but it also has a sharp spike that gives it greater purchase on the wood cladding of a ship. The cutlass is a simple blade but short enough to maneuver through the tangle of lines aboard a ship. Some gear that is standard in the armies of the Iron Kingdoms is rare aboard ships. Almost all armor is viewed—rightly so—as an impediment and a drowning hazard. Simple firearms are preferred over more complicated ones, since they are more resistant to salt corrosion and are simpler to repair if damaged. Sailors on independent ships wear simple garments and carry little personal gear, and even the navies of the Iron Kingdoms have modest amounts of personal gear compared to their landlubber counterparts. Last, some gear is hyper-specialized to perform a certain nautical task. In some cases, this task is so obscure that those who haven’t spent their lives aboard a ship have no frame of reference for what the item’s intended purpose is, much less how to use it. These items can be deceptively simple, like the marlinspike sailors use to splice rope and loosen knots stuck by seawater. Others are intricate and serve a critical purpose, like the marine chronometer without which few crews could ever find their way back to shore again.
New Armor Diving Suit, Armored Cost: 120 gc SPD Modifier: –2 (on land only) DEF Modifier: –2 (underwater) –3 (on land) ARM Modifier: +7 Description: Used by salvage crews and treasure divers, an armored diving suit is a waterproof canvas bodysuit covered by plates of brass that protect the wearer. The suit’s helmet is made of brass or copper and has multiple viewports of thick glass. Copper-covered lead weights on the belt and feet allow a diver to walk along the sea floor and maintain a vertical position. While heavy and awkward on land, the suit is easier to manage while underwater.
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Special Rules: While wearing an armored diving suit, a character gains the Amphibious ability and is immune to gas effects. (Amphibious characters treat water as open terrain and gain concealment while in water. Amphibious characters never make Swimming skill rolls and can always advance their full SPD while swimming.) A character in a diving suit only gains this benefit while attached to a diving bellows (p. 110). Otherwise, the character runs out of oxygen in about 10 (or 2d6+3) minutes. Once a character runs out of oxygen, he suffers d3 damage each minute until he regains oxygen.
New Melee Weapons
New Ranged Weapons
Boarding Axe
Pistol, 3-Barreled Duckfoot
Cost: 10 gc
Cost: 20 gc
Skill: Hand Weapon
Ammo: 1 (light round)
Attack Modifier: 0
Effective Range: SP 6
POW: 3
Extreme Range: —
Description: The boarding axe is a single-handed weapon designed for use in ship-to-ship combat. The back of the blade terminates in a long spike, which can be driven into the hull of a ship to aid in climbing.
Skill: Pistol
Special Rules: A character with a boarding axe gains +1 to Climbing skill rolls on wooden surfaces. The boarding axe acts by piercing the surface and thus does not convey a bonus on metal or stone.
AOE: —
Boarding Pike Cost: 10 gc Skill: Great Weapon
Attack Modifier: –1 POW: 8 Description: Those who face the prospect of being outnumbered in combat often carry a duckfoot pistol, a pistol with three barrels arranged in a fanned configuration. Commonly used by prison wardens to quell riots, ship’s captains to defend against mutinous crews, and caravan guards to protect against highwaymen, the pistol simultaneously fires each barrel in a wide spray. Special Rules: Reloading this weapon is a full action and requires three charges of powder and three light rounds.
Attack Modifier: 0 POW: 5 Description: Early crews used the boarding pike to repel enemies trying to come aboard their ships. Considered outmoded in modern naval warfare, the boarding pike sometimes sees use aboard poorer Idrian and Scharde ships to keep enemies from coming aboard.
It costs 2 gc for blasting powder, bullets, and casings for five light rounds.
Special Rules: A boarding pike must be used two-handed. Boarding pikes have Reach. A character in the front arc of a character wielding a boarding pike suffers –2 on charge, slam power attack, and impact attack rolls made against the character wielding the boarding pike.
Grappling Hook Cost: 5 gc Skill: Hand Weapon Attack Modifier: –1 POW: 4 Description: On the sea, grappling hooks are employed to snag another ship’s gunwale or ratlines to prevent it from escaping during a boarding action. Though seldom used as a weapon, grappling hooks are sometimes employed as such in desperate measures. Special Rules: This weapon’s melee range is 4˝ during the activation of the character wielding it. When this weapon damages a target, after the attack is resolved the character wielding it can spend a feat point to push the damaged character any distance directly toward the character armed with the grappling hook.
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IRon kingdoms Uncharted Pistol, 6-Barreled Duckfoot Cost: 30 gc Ammo: 1 (heavy round) Effective Range: SP 6 Extreme Range: — Skill: Pistol Attack Modifier: –1 (one-handed), –2 (two-handed) POW: 11 AOE: — Description: The six-barreled variant of the duckfoot pistol is less common than the smaller variety. The weapon produces tremendous force when fired, requiring impressive strength to wield. Larger duckfoots are carried by a ship’s highest-ranking marines, who use them to cut down enemy crews during boarding actions. Special Rules: A character must have STR 6 to use this weapon one-handed. Reloading this weapon is a full action and requires six charges of powder and six heavy rounds. It costs 3 gc for blasting powder, bullets, and casings for five heavy rounds.
New Equipment Diving Bellows Cost: 35 gc (manual), 475 gc (steam-powered) Description: A diving bellows is a large reciprocating pump that uses large chambers and one-way valves to pump air, used to feed oxygen to the heartfire of deeply submerged steamjacks and provide breathable air to men in diving suits. The air is pumped through double-walled, waterproof canvas hoses with brass fittings that attach to the bellows on one end and either a diving suit or steamjack air intake on the other. Antiquated diving bellows are hand-operated and tiring, requiring a crewman to manually pump air down the line. More modern versions are steam-powered and can function for hours on a modest coal load. Special Rules: While it operates, a diving bellows produces enough air for up to five characters or one steamjack attached to it. Operating a manual diving bellows requires a character to pump the bellows. During this time, the character can perform no other actions, or the flow of air cuts off. A steam-powered bellows can operate as long as it has coal and water. A standard hose for the diving bellows is 96 feet (16˝) long and is ARM 10 with a damage capacity of 2. A diving bellows can have up to five hoses attached at a time. Attaching or removing a hose is a quick action. A steam-powered diving bellows burns 1 gc of coal every four hours of continuous operation.
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Player Gallery
No Quarter #66 celebrated the old guard of Mk II by challenging you to paint and submit your favorite Mk II battlebox warcasters and warlocks. Boy, did you answer the call! We received many beautiful entries, and here are the judges’ top picks.
Gold Mark Maxey Mark’s Madrak looks fantastic, with great contrast and phenomenal detail work. Just look at that tartan!
Silver David Deschenaux David’s Retribution of Scyrah battlegroup features great highlights and shading as well as some convincing distress on the armor. The jewels and metals are well executed and really pop.
honorable mention
Oleg Vasin
Oleg’s Stryker battlegroup has a clean paint job with some very nice freehand work. Well done.
Player Gallery
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NO QUARTER
PAINTING CHALLENGE The No Quarter Painting Challenge encompasses a single theme and broadens the challenge to include all Privateer Press models within that theme. Simply paint your model, take a few publication-quality digital photos of it, and send those photos to us. (See No Quarter #53 for photography guidelines.) Once we receive your pictures, Studio Director Ron Kruzie will judge your work by the same criteria used in the world-renowned Formula P3 Grandmaster Painting Competition held at Lock & Load GameFest and Gen Con each year. Models will be judged individually on their own merits. Top entries will be published here in the pages of No Quarter and awarded either gold or silver honors, and winners will receive an extremely limited-edition No Quarter Painting Challenge Coin, in gold or silver coloration, to proudly display alongside their model.
This issue’s theme:
New Edition Battlegroup Starter Box Warcasters and Warlocks The new editions of WARMACHINE and HORDES feature all-new battlegroup starters with brand-new warcasters and warlocks in them. These heroes are ready to take their place in the fight for Immoren. Celebrate the new guard with your best painting effort! Send us pictures of your favorite new edition Battlegroup Starter Box warcaster or warlock, with or without the battlegroup. The thrill of victory, the accolades of your peers, and a shot at a No Quarter Painting Challenge Coin await you! To submit your entry: Read the submission guidelines at privateerpress.com/no-quarter/no-quarter-challenges Fill out a submission form Email submission form and digital photographs of your model to
[email protected]
ENTRI ES DUE BY
August 14, 2016
®
The award-winning, best-selling tabletop miniatures game duo is about to enter a new era of growth. WARMACHINE and HORDES are dynamic tabletop miniatures games for two or more players set in the steam-powered fantasy world of the Iron Kingdoms. WARMACHINE triumphs through tactical resource management and control as players marshal armies equipped with advanced magic, technology, and mighty mechanikal constructs. HORDES dares players to provoke the fury of feral beasts, risking predictable strategy for the prospect of powerful rewards that can propel an army to victory. The coming battle cannot be avoided—but the path to war is yours to decide.
allnewwar.com ©2001–2016 Privateer Press, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Privateer Press®, Warmachine®, Hordes®, and their logos are trademarks of Privateer Press, Inc.
®
®
The award-winning, best-selling tabletop miniatures game duo is about to enter a new era of growth. WARMACHINE and HORDES are dynamic tabletop miniatures games for two or more players set in the steam-powered fantasy world of the Iron Kingdoms. WARMACHINE triumphs through tactical resource management and control as players marshal armies equipped with advanced magic, technology, and mighty mechanikal constructs. HORDES dares players to provoke the fury of feral beasts, risking predictable strategy for the prospect of powerful rewards that can propel an army to victory. The coming battle cannot be avoided—but the path to war is yours to decide.
al l n e w wa r.c o m ©2001–2016 Privateer Press, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Privateer Press®, Warmachine®, Hordes®, and their logos are trademarks of Privateer Press, Inc.
®
