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A tiny tidbit about the lore of Undeath

In this age of Transcendence, the Valdros Family find themselves imbued with endless Vigor. The world has been covered in a blanket of raw black magic, a new wind in the ever growing storm of magic. The Family has learned to harness this power, creating a new school of magic. The school of undeath. With it, they are capable of raising entire armies at will, faster and more powerfully than with Dhur. Micheal Valdros has begun the path to Lichdom, seeking to use this new found magik to strengthen his power, and thus his hold upon the tribe.

"We shall set fire to their lands and drive fear into their cold, lifeless hearts. We shall march upon Valdros Manor, and we shall seize it for the glory of the true gods. We shall march with the fury of Khorne himself, we shall defend with the resilience of Father Nurgle, under tactics rivaling Tzeenchs own, and we shall feel the pure ecstasy of Slannesh with every kill. For as long as you are with the gods, you shall rest easy knowing the gods are with you." ~Prophet of Micheal, Cult of Five.


A small attempt at creating a qoute, didn't really turn out to well, but it doesn't particularly matter.

Across the border princes, vampires lie in wait, wolves amongst sheep waiting for the right moment to strike. Trained by her Majesty.Aubry Valdros herself in the arts of infiltration, they have been scattered across the lands. They where to lure the fools away from their homes, into the darkness never to be seen again. But,in this age of Trancendence, they are the Herald of Destruction. They wait for the call of the Bloodborn, the signal to begin the attack. They are to weaken the villages, to cause confusion and chaos in the streets, to weaken the prey for when the Bloodborn march upon the border princes. Only one thing stands in the way of their conquest, the Dwarven fortress of Barak Var, positioned just between Valdros Manor and the Border Princes

So on a scale of 1 to 10, how fluff violating would it be to have the Bloodborn conquer Barak Var? Does it hold any significant position in the fluff that could cause problems?

I think Barak Var has some importance in the Blood in the Badlands campaign...

 Hive Fleet Cerberus wrote:
Across the border princes, vampires lie in wait, wolves amongst sheep waiting for the right moment to strike. Trained by her Majesty.Aubry Valdros herself in the arts of infiltration, they have been scattered across the lands. They where to lure the fools away from their homes, into the darkness never to be seen again. But,in this age of Trancendence, they are the Herald of Destruction. They wait for the call of the Bloodborn, the signal to begin the attack. They are to weaken the villages, to cause confusion and chaos in the streets, to weaken the prey for when the Bloodborn march upon the border princes. Only one thing stands in the way of their conquest, the Dwarven fortress of Barak Var, positioned just between Valdros Manor and the Border Princes

So on a scale of 1 to 10, how fluff violating would it be to have the Bloodborn conquer Barak Var? Does it hold any significant position in the fluff that could cause problems?

Its a major Dwarf Hold and their only real port / shipbuilding centre - it has very substantial defences as well as its powerful Ironclad fleet. It would be an epic tale.

Also as the Bloodborn become more prominent they will likely attract the attention of other powers?

If by other powers you mean the other kingdoms, then most likely yes. Even attempting to attack Var would get them at least a few Grudges in the book for the Dwarves, and being so close to the Orks, they'd likely have to deal with them as well.

 Hive Fleet Cerberus wrote:
If by other powers you mean the other kingdoms, then most likely yes. Even attempting to attack Var would get them at least a few Grudges in the book for the Dwarves, and being so close to the Orks, they'd likely have to deal with them as well.

Orcs may already be a problem for them. The Strigoi had a city in the Badlands when they were normal vampires, until the Orcs came - united.

 thenoobbomb wrote:

 Hive Fleet Cerberus wrote:
If by other powers you mean the other kingdoms, then most likely yes. Even attempting to attack Var would get them at least a few Grudges in the book for the Dwarves, and being so close to the Orks, they'd likely have to deal with them as well.

Orcs may already be a problem for them. The Strigoi had a city in the Badlands when they were normal vampires, until the Orcs came - united.

Oh, they definitely would have been a problem even before hand, but going on a full-scale crusade will only make that worse

The Monarchs are back? I dont even know where to take this fluff-wise, but holy.... just feth. Thats awesome!

 Hive Fleet Cerberus wrote:
The Monarchs are back? I dont even know where to take this fluff-wise, but holy.... just feth. Thats awesome!

The Mortarchs, yes.

This kinda seems out of place now, but also kinda not. Its weird. Well, I've explained Micheal as a god, but I've never really show him as a person. I've shown what the rest of the bloodborn THINK of him, I figure its time to show something ABOUT who he actually is, and what his own personal ideals are.


Micheal Valdros wears, on the index finger of his right hand, at all times a golden ring decorated with a gem-encrusted Moon and Star. The ring was naught but a sentimental icon, passed from one Valdros to another for generations, given to him by his "Father", but soon it now serves as his tether to the realm of mortals on his path to ascension. This ring serves to remind him of his past, that he too was once a mortal, and that in the end death will come for as it does for any. He finds that if he forgets himself, if he gives in fully to the predator inside, he will become no different from the others before him. The other bloodlines have had been simply because their leaders overestimated themselves. They believed themselves to wield infinite power, to hold the favor of gods. This ring hopes to avoid this, to allow the bloodborn to last under the knowledge that only when the world is truly pure may they cleanse themselves completely of their mortal chains. Sadly, few other Bloodborn appreciate, or even understand, the sentiment.

After the brief, kinda disconected thing, back to Barak Var! Kinda. Well, a camp outside Barak Var.



A series of clippings from the war-log of the unnamed general of the 31st camp set up during the siege of Barak Var.

Entry 1:
I've been assigned as general of the 31st camp, who will serve as a breaching party. We are to be the first into Barak Var, and hold the gate as well as supply a steady stream of reinforcements. After my troops are secure, I am to leave the party to the Necromancers and aid the rest of the Generals in taking the Stronghold. Shame I wasn't given a bigger part, but the Family though my skills serve me best here. I suppose they're right, as I'm sure my magical prowess should come in handy securing the gate.

Entry 2:
The rest of the camp consists of a few lesser necromancers (One of whom is rumored to be able to wield this "New wind"), some of the lesser vampires, and much to my surprise we will be joined by Ivan Valdros himself! He will be joining us a few days before the siege begins, in-case the camp gets discovered before hand. We will raise the rest of the troops closer to marching day.

Entry 3:
A slight change of plans: Ivan will be joining the Quick-Strike forces, with the Blood-Angles. Seems fitting, considering he trained 'em. Word is that the 31st camp will be receiving some reinforcements to makeup for this last minute change

Entry 4:
We're told that we are to serve as the escort to Micheal Valdros himself, as well as our original objective. The commander will be arriving shortly, and will be taking over my job as general of the 31st until the time of his departure.

Entry 5:
The days seem to be getting longer, but the time to strike is soon at hand. We've received word from our inside men. A rather... professional... group of dwarven mercenaries we've promised a share of the profits. They wont be getting any of the material wealth, though if they do well I may grant them the gift of undeath. They've made preparations to open the gate on Que, and have planted an agent on the commanders guard. When we give the signal, they are to shed their cover and attempt to immobilize or imprison the commander (They are under specific orders not to kill him at any cost). The only thing we're waiting on now is Micheal's personal caravan to arrive at camp. He'll be accompanying the 31st team until we breach the gates, afterwords he'll be splitting off towards the stronghold. Nagash be with us.

Entry 6:
Micheal's Caravan has arrived. On either side he was accompanied by a being beyond description. A monstrosity made of bone, held together by the souls of the damned, yet its form was like none that has ever graced this earth. It was larger than an man or beast I have seen in my life, its feet where almost like those of a Cold-One of Lustria, and at its chest lay only a gap filled with the skulls of the damned. From its back sprouted wings of bone and torn flesh, Clinging to them was a host of specters. These beasts where clad in armor of the finest Ebon, its very bone seeming to fuse with the armor. It seemed to hover gracefully above the ground, as though it cared not for the trivial laws of our mortal world. Around them hung a subtle feeling of despair, and in their wake all fell silent. Micheal said nothing of these beasts, only that "Nagash has blessed us today. Let us not waste that blessing.". We shall march upon the gates tomorrow

Going to break the seige into 5 parts:
Presiege/begining of seige (This one)
Taking of the gatehouse and surrounding areas
Taking of the fortress at large
Taking of the "Stronghold" (The centeral, most defended building of the fortress)
And the Aftermath


Time stood still as legions of undead gathered at the gates of Barak Vaar. The fortress seemed to be shrouded in a cloak of silence, not a sound to be heard. All awaited the moment when the gates would fly open, and all hell would break loose. The 31st would breach the gates from the ground, while the Blood Angles and their swiftstrike teams would strike from the skies. Along the front lines where mechanical constructs and cursed statues, beings enchanted by the Priest Kings of old corrupted by the will of the Vampires. Between these beings where rank apon rank of skeletal wights, clad in decayed and rusted armor. And, standing just before the gates was Micheal Valdros himself, flanked by his Morghast Archai. The sky was filled with a shround of arrows, both from the Dwarves inside and the undead archers of the Bloodborn. In a split second the silence was broken, and the fortress was flooded with the screams of Banshees. Across the fortress, Ethereal beings apperead where just moments ago nothing stood. From the walls strode forth Spectrical riders apon ghostly steeds. The gates flew open, and the Undead poured through. Seemingly without warning, the hail of arrows stopped as the skies archers found themselves consumed in a swarm of flesh-eating bats. At the gates stood a regiment of Dwarven soldiers who surley would have made a mark apon the strike team, had the ethereals not slain them all.

I thought it would be fun to make up a little propaganda story, kinda in the same vein as religious books aimed at kids (Not calling those propaganda, I mean this is literally a Religious poem/epic/thing aimed at kids) A story passed down from generation to generation, the truth getting warped along the way. Still going to continue the main story, of course, but I was reading to a five year old earlier and figured "Hey, vampires probably do that too, right?".

One night, they say
The Drakenhof man caused quite a fray
His skin of snow, his eyes of ash
He strode into town, his motive was clear
He said to the men, faces flushed with fear
"I am the Drakenhof man, I come not for cash
I come with a gift, I come to spread cheer!
I come with an offer, I come with a deal
Join me and be free, a life without worry!
Refuse me and die, to become my next meal!"
The villagers where shocked, they knew of this man!
They stood and they fought, for that is all they can.
None could oppose Mr. Drakenhof man


They gathered their tools, said goodbye to the folks,
And men did gather, fear in their hearts
"You cannot beat me you blokes!
I am mighty, a plauge on this land
I bring fear, my legend quite grand
You have no chance, give in to me now!
Your victory I cannot not allow!"
Said Mr. Drakenhof man

The city in its death Thrashes
The a man came from the ashes
He strode up to the Drakenhof man, ignoring his Gashes
The mans name was Valdros, a name bringing truth
"Drakhenhof Man, I submit to your claim
Bless me with your youth!"
A smile ran
Across the face of Mr. Drakenhof man
"I give you youth, I give you fame
Spread my word, spread it far!
Make them know my name!"
Said Mr. Drakhenhof man, in the city Aflame



Mr. Valdros smiled, his heart filled with glee
His life had purpose now, you see!
He spread the word of Mr. Drakenhof man
Spreading it as far as he can.
He still does today, our father of blood
He raises them from the mud.
So we sing praise to our lord,
Mr. Drakenhof man.

This probably counts as shameless self promotion (it will come into play with the Bloodborn eventually, so its not ENTIRELY pointless), but I do have a similar thing going on for my tomb kings soon-to-be army. http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/0/615610.page#7222378

First off, sorry for making you wait (Almost) literally forever for the next part. That out of the way, I decided to step away from the plans slightly, as I simply couldn't think of anything to write for "Taking the gatehouse" that wasn't a rehash of the last post.

At the front lines of the battle, among the piles of corpses and abandoned weapons, stood Micheal Valdros and at his side, his wife Victoria Valdros. The two completed each other in battle, Micheals unnatural skill with a blade paired with Victorias unmatched magical Prowess was a sight to behold. The two acted as one, Micheal dealing with any who would dare come in range of his mighty sword, Victoria slaying them at a distance with bolts of solidified warp-fire, thinning the heard so they could fall before his blade. They where like gods upon the battlefield, each strike made creating yet more soldiers to be raised for the Undying horde.
In the skies above, Ivan leads his squad of Winged Vampires he calls the "Blood Angels", swooping from the skies to eliminate any stragglers, while Aubrey scouts the surrounding areas, picking off any archers who may interfere with her brothers air strikes. The family was to converge upon the Gatehouse when the surrounding areas where claimed, to strike upon the fortress at large as a single unit.

As Micheal approached the gates to the Iner Sanctum, he heard a single voice from the crowd. A dwarven general, drunk on bugmans, shouted across the battlefield "We will strike you down tonight, acursed daemon. By the will of the Valaya*". In the blink of an eye, Valdros appeared before him, his inhuman form towering over the dwarfs own stout body. With a single fell swoop he lifted the dwarf from his feet, holding him by the neck with his deathly cold grip. He let out a cold, unfeeling grin, "Even if, by the will of the gods you hold so dear, you slay me today, you cannot escape. We are a force of nature, an undeniable reality. Even if you strike me down, the sands of time shall continue to shift, burying you in their wake. The tide of ages will come, and wash away the mark of your transgressions here. It is not I, but you who is the accursed, that you will be forgotten." and with a that, he drew from his sheath his blessed sword, the sunset shimmering off its golden hilt, and drove it through the dwarves tough skull. The men who surrounded the general, his trusted bodyguards, had fled. Those who remained quickly met a similar fate to the general. He had broken their morale, and those who still stood outside the inner gates fled the battlefield, hearts filled with terror from this unholy display. All that remained was a single, solitary fort a midst the pile of corpses. Soon, the rest of the family shall gather here, and together they shall test the might of the dwarves.

*Hope this is the right god for that sort of thing. I dont know much about the dwarves, but I think that since he's protecting the Barak, the Protectress fits fine.

Just a heads up, there might be a slight break in the fortress arc (I don't really like doing arcs. Slows my progress a lot, especially something like this, outside my regular sphere of writing) on or around Halloween, for the bloodborn's annual celebration (Havent decided quite yet, but it will be explained as a holy day in the fluff, possibly Micheals (Supposed) birthday. Thinking of a Carnival of Blood, or a prey-hunt (Which will likely end with a clash between Bloodborn and Children of Rot, if that happens)

After Micheals display at the gates, the rest of the family faced little opposition and quickly arrived at his side. Together they approached the gates to the inner fortress, bracing themselves for what would lie on the other side. Yet, when they opened the gates, they where greeted not by the hail of arrows nor the swarm of blades they expected, but by a single man, too tall to be a dwarf, sitting in the center of the room upon an ornate chair. As he stood from his seat, he revealed behind him the corpse of the Dwarven commander, his skin deathly pale and a single bite mark upon his throat. The man did not say a word, he simply gestured for Aubrey to come closer, his face still cloaked in shadow.
As Aubry stepped forward, the figure lunged at her, wrapping his arm firmly around her neck, "You abandoned me, left me to die on the fields of Somjek. I trusted you, Aubry, I gave my life to you, and this is what I get for my love? For you to look me in the eyes as I lay dying in the sands and to see you just leave me to the wolves? Four of your Necromancers found me, laying in the field, soon to succumb to my wounds. They took me in, gave me the second chance you denied me, and in return I gave them purpose. I gave them hope, that they may have a place in your fathers grand plan beyond being just tools to be used. They worshiped him even before, but I gave them a platform to praise him as a god. Together we worked to spread his word and the glory of Chaos, remaining hidden till you where ready to see the true path. But the age of ending has come, and its time to show our selves to the ignorant world, out of the shadows and into the light, to show them what it truley means to be afraid.", the man turned his gaze towards Micheal, a sorrowful expression upon his face, "I just want you to know, I'm sorry for this. I truly am, but its an eye for an eye, and she ended my life when she left me at Somjek, I'm afraid now its her turn", and with that he drove his blade through her spine, the blood dripping from his golden blade, pooling upon the stone floor like a scarlet lake. Micheal drew his blade, and threw his golden ring* to the floor, landing in a pool of his daughters own blood. "I don't wish to fight you, Micheal. My people revere you, I revere you, we think of you as divine. Do you really want me to end that, to kill our god in cold blood? And over what, some filthy, heartless wench who did nothing but scheme and lie to our faces? She got what she deserved, and you know it."

Alright, the last post in the arc before the aftermath! And, probably the longest post yet, though I'm not sure about the quality of it as a finale.


As Micheal cast the ring from his finger, he began to feel the winds of magic eb and flow through his body, he became aware of every slight shift, every minor detail in the balance of power. His very veins burned within him with the intensity of a thousand suns, as though the flames of hell itself coursed through him. The winds of magic began to gather and swell around him, the fire within growing stronger every passing second. He dropped his blade, and with a flick of his wrist he concentrated the heat within into a magnificent stream of flame upon the Vampire before him. Yet, when the fire died and the smoke cleared, there still stood the vampire, undeterred by the blast. "I didn't want for it to come to this. I hoped you could be made to see the truth, but I can see now the gods did not will it. Perhaps, many moons from now, if you survive of course, we may meet again and you may be made to see the light" The vampire said, lifting his blade from Aubreys limp corpse. From the ground Micheal grabbed his sword, focusing his rage into a single, solitary thought. His will gave life to the weapon, its blade now alight with the fires of rage. The vampire before him slowly backed up, attempting to escape the wrath he had so invoked upon himself, only to find that he'd walked into the grip of Ivan Valdros. From the stone sprouted a series of monstrous vines, wrapping themselves around his legs, binding him to this spot. The stone wall behind him began to shift to the will of Victoria, forming mighty skeletal hands to grip the wrists of the Vampire, assuring he could not strike against his captors. Micheal stepped forward, placing his blade at Azazels throat, the flame leaving burn marks under his chin. Micheal said not a word, he simply gazed into the traitors eyes, and it was clear that no words could be said that would express the fathers rage. He lifted his blade from the vampires neck, and from his side he drew a small stone dagger, emblazoned with a symbol from the Liber Mortis. "You didn't think I'd let you die so easily. No, no, no. You will die on MY terms, and I will make you beg to your gods for forgiveness". He began to slice the fingers of the vampire, one by one, and with each new trophy he made Azazel give praise to Nagash. As Micheal approached the final finger on his right hand, the Vampire looked up to him, cracking a slight smirk, then he began laughing, endlessly laughing. He had been broken, his mind shattered and his spirit claimed by the Daemons of insanity. This continued until Micheal reached the middle finger of his left hand, when the Vampire looked up again and said to him "Sorry to interrupt you, oh dearest father, but I'm afraid its time for me to leave. I have followers to attend to, people to tell of your sins". As he spoke those words, there could be heard the beating of dragons wings, and the room began to tremble underneath the beasts might. Crashing through the roof came the claws of a gigantic beast, its rotting flesh giving the distinct aroma of undeath. It reached out towards the Vampire, cutting the vines from his legs and decimating the stone binds that held him.

Without Aubry, the bloodborn where unable to continue their Crusade. She was to give the signal to the moles spread across the border princes. Without that advantage, the armies stationed outside every town where forced to retreat from their forward positions, back into the Badlands. Micheal personally saw too it that any damage to the Barak was to be quickly undone, and turned the fort into a memorial. The corpses of the dwarven defenders where strung up along the outer walls, the commander dangling just above the gate. Those who weren't upon the walls where brought back to guard the tomb under the watchful eye of the families most trusted necromancer, Mortimer. Vampires and their servants who gave their lives in the taking of Barak Var where buried on its grounds, the interior of the fortress lined with their grave stones. And, at the very center, amidst the graveyard, stood the stronghold. Its walls where torn down, rebuilt with gem-encrusted skulls and adorned with various trophies Aubry had taken from her victims over countless years. Inside Micheal placed the body of his daughter, entombed in an exquisite golden sarcophagus. On its surface was etched the symbol of Clan Valdros, the edges bordered by symbols from the books of Nagash, at at its apex was crafted an amber star, Micheal's family ring in its center. At the very top of the strongholds domed roof sits an iron cross, waiting for the corpse of the traitor Azazel to be splayed atop it, a reminder to those who dare cross the Bloodfather.

Deep in the marsh of madness, there exists a unique breed of vampires. They live in secrecy, an unrefined people living in simple wooden huts out on the marshlands, lead by tribal shamans. Legend says that, when the moon stands full in the sky, the Vampires reveal their true form: A monstrosity unlike any other, a being that is half man, half wolf. It is in this form that they prowl the Marsh of Madness, feeding upon those travelers foolish enough to trespass on their lands. The Bloodborn first learned of the Wolf-kin aeons ago, when Micheal happened upon them on his way to Nehekara, and ever since the Bloodborn regularly send out expeditions to forcefully acquire these Wolfkin to be kept in cages and used as beasts of war. The bloodborn think of them as little more than mindless animals, being of a lesser bloodline and thus simple tools to be used and discarded by those of pure blood.

Vampires who turn their backs to the Clan, who dishonor the Bloodborn so greatly that the Families watchful eye turns to them in disgust, are dragged to the pits far below the Valdros Manor. Starved of blood for weeks on end, these traitors slowly slip back to their primal nature, the blood-lust that lurks in the heart of every vampire overtakes rational thought. They are made to fight each other like beasts, tearing each other limb from limb with their bare hands, drinking the marrow from their bones. The remains of the dead are taken from the pits, the tattered bits of flesh and bone remade into a brutal mockery of human form by master Necromancers. This pathetic flesh-puppet is then taken to a Vampire, trained by the master Necrotects of ancient Khemri, their bones reshaped by the vampire and entombed in a stone grave. Once the Vampire has finished his work, life is once again breathed into the corpses of these Traitors, and they are reborn as fallen Angels, forced in undeath to do as they refused to in life: Serve.

And yet, it is those who survive who come to learn the Bloodborns true wrath. Fight after fight, kill after kill, the bloodlust only grows, an unstoppable hunger burning inside. They become less than humans, all they know is the adrenaline rush of slaying their former Kin, and the fleeting sense of victory after a kill. When they are declared to be strong enough, the Vampire takes them, the monster still alive and fighting, reshaping them just as the fallen. Their bones are broken and flesh torn, the bloodlust inside only getting stronger as their own bodies destroyed before them. When he is finished with his masterpiece, the vampire covers the Traitor in obsidian, the molten rock searing the beasts flesh, the blood boiling in its veins, the burning only adding fuel to the flame of its hunger. Whats left is but a mere mindless slave, their minds long since overtaken, they exist only for the feeling of warm blood upon their throat, and the impossible hope of sating their unending bloodlust.


So their's our Vargheists/Vargoyles. Their IS a step up from this, ones who survive the pits longer, but those will be further elaborated on later, as Vaghulfs

Enjoying this and look forward to more

The few dwarves that survived the onslaught where deemed to be worthy, and given a choice: Aid the Clan by accepting the honor of Undeath Acendence, or by becoming their next meal. Given the strict, honor-bound nature of the dwarves, few accepted, and even fewer survived the Blood kiss. Only four survived:
The Warrior-King, who rode to Barak Varr alone, summoned by the smoke bellowing from its ruins. He was ambushed their, and herded in with the other cattle.
The Chaos-Dwarf Sorcerer, hidden in plain sight, one of the Mercenaries hired to open the gates, the only one to survive the onslaught, he was forcefully given the kiss, though he soon accepted his fate.
The Runelord, who retreated to his forge as war raged above him, hoping to turn the tides with a Magical construct. He was found long after the battle was won, still tampering with his machines, unaware that all was already lost.
The Forsaken Slayer, found on the precipice of victory, he was pulled from the edge by force, given eternal unlife as a cruel joke by the Bloodborn, assuring that he never complete his suicide mission.

Those who accepted where forgiven of their past sins, their past forgotten, as they where reborn in the blood-tides of Undeath. Yet, they where weak, without knowledge or purpose, but helpless children, yet Micheal found them promising. And so they where given meaning by the Family, the Warrior-King would lead a Caravan between the Valdros Manor and The Marsh Of Madness, he would capture and tame the primitives of that land, and in times of war the would march under his command. The Sorcerer was to study under Victoria herself, spending his days in the libraries deep beneath Valdros Manor, learning the Arcane secrets of those who came before, and developing new uses for the Magics, surfacing only to unleash this knowledge upon the unwary, or to collect new subjects for his experiments. The Runelord was to forge Dwarven weaponry and war machines for Ivans legions, improving upon already marvelous Dwarven Technology with Black Magic. The Slayer was to become the head of the Manor Guard, forced to protect those that denied him death. So strong was his hatred that it transcends even Undeath, he unleashes that rage upon those who threaten the Family, waiting the strike at the heart of the Clan. The Family knows this, yet lets the fool continue to believe he has the upper hand, and the moment he strikes out against his masters he is to be given special treatment in the Pits, watched by the mad Vampire, to be saved from the brink of death, time and time again.



Just a small tidbit explaning why I have dwarven vampires (Because apparently "They're fekin awesome" isnt a good reason)

Since I finally got around to buying the second half of my undead legions list, I figured it was about time to meet up with Khotep (From the Forsaken City lore, found here:http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/615610.page)

After the victory are Barak Varr, Micheal turned his gaze away from the Border princes. With the fortress gone, the princes where left to his will, cattle in a pen. Their was no honor in slaying the defenseless prince, no challenge to be had, the Bloodborn had defeated them without even raising a sword, and all knew it. Micheal would simply send his "ambassadors" into the towns, to judge their respective rulers, and offer them Ascension or death. With the princes taken care of, Micheal turned his gaze to the south, toward the birthplace of Undeath, to a place he'd visited oh so long ago. To a city forsaken by the gods, and forgotten by time, a place Micheal once called home in the days before. He would accompany the Slaver Caravan to the Marsh of madness, bringing only Ivan with him. Once they reached the Marshes, the caravan would collect their wolf-kin, then accompany their king on his journey to the Forsaken city, where he hoped to convince an old friend to fight in Nagash's name.

On the Island of Sartosa, their lived a man by the name of Cipher, an uninteresting fellow by all accounts, a simple deckhand for one of the many Sartosian Pirates. He served diligently , though he had always planned to eventually abandon his captain in hopes of starting his own crew. One day, while the crew was off celebrating a recent victory in the Tavern, he simply left, under cover of night, never to be seen again. He left Sartosa behind him, having stolen an elven vessel dubbed "The Devils Hand" that was docked at the same port, having stirred its crewmen to mutiny against their captain, he made a name for himself on the open seas, stealing from cargo vessels traveling the Sothern Sea, and raiding small coastal towns. All that mattered to him was the thrill of battle, and the riches it brought, where it came from mattered little. As such, he'd often pick up mercenary work and odd jobs from who ever was willing to pay. During one such job, after joining a band of dwarven deserters hoping to strike it rich off of under-defended towns of the Border Princes, the Devils Hand was ambushed by a group of Vampires along the Bay of Wrecks. Caught unaware and heavily outnumbered, the Crew was defeated with little hassle. Cipher found himself tied up in the ships bilge, captured by the Bloodborn, and after days of consideration the Vampires deemed him worthy of their gift. He was offered a choice: Pledge an undying oath to the Bloodborn, to serve Micheal unconditionally, and be given the gift of Ascension, or die in the bilge, starving and alone. Cornered and without options, the captain accepted. He saw Undeath as just another treasure to be claimed, something that put him above the common rabble he sought to escape. In return for his servitude, he was granted free reign to continue adventuring in the name of the Bloodborn, as well as being given the services of a Necromancer. With this new found power, he was no longer satisfied with the petty treasures of men and elves, only the grandest of plunders from the most exotic of lands could sate his lust, and even then it was but a fleeting relief. For years he sailed the seas, and from encounters with the feral Lizardmen of the Dragon Isles, to pillaging across the Chaos Wastes, tales of the Dread Pirate Cipher spread across the taverns of the Old World like wildfire. It was of little surprise, then, that when Cipher began to hear tales of a city leveled by a comet unlike anything else known to man, made of magical stone capable of turning Iron to Gold, something stirred inside him, like a call to action, a thrill he hadn't felt since stealing from the tombs of Settra himself. With great haste, he gathered the crew from their shore leave, and the Bloodborn Buccaneers set sail for the city of the damned



Been working on this for the past few days, I'm starting a Mordheim league next week, figured I should maybe do something for that, so I started writing up a small bit of fluff to explain how he got to mordheim, ended up writing the ending first and ended up requiring quite a bit more than usual to get to that point. Not sure if it'll become its own thread, if I end up doing fluff for every battle (Once a week for the next month, then who knows how many months of different campaign settings after that), then it will have to end up getting its own thread, but if its only every once in awhile then probably not.