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I just got the idea to do this after GW asked people to share their army list's. I do feel making up a good background for your army is involved in the army making progress I shall share you mine.

Apologies for the length and I suck at writing comprehension.

Ahem

The kingdom of Saphra, once known as the city of light, beacon of the god king, now it is known as the city silence also known as the city of the night and endings.

The kingdom of Saphra enjoyed the patronage of sigmar, long has he watched over this benevolent city of knights and champions. The king was wised and aged and his son was soon ready to take his throne when he died, he had a beautiful wife from the neighboring kingdom and all seemed right for when he shall pass this world into the hands of sigmar. This old king was Alastair Estonov, yet even so deep down he felt something coming that this peace he fought and bled for would not last forever until the onslaught of chaos came......

"Defend the pass!" Bellowed the old king as a group of hungry bloodbound charged into the lines, the old king knew he had to stand strong for his people he had to push them back from this pass or they could get straight to the city. He ordered his son to stay with the people even though he was adamant he wanted to defend his home. The old king Alastair knew how headstrong his son was and that's why he had to stay at the city normally a battle like this would not deter the old king but the fact that the war priests were having trouble calling upon the power of sigmar caused him great concern. Still it did not matter he will hold this line even at the cost of his life, he had to protect his people and his son that was his duty as king. That was the duty the god-king gave him.

Several days pass and still his people hold firm yet the lines are starting to waver, starting to break more and more children of the dark gods storm the pass. The old king would push them back just like before until a mighty lord of Khorne appeared heavy blood coloured armor covered his frame with a mighty two handed axe. He was also riding a mechanical daemon his honour guard bared the same mount. The lord crashed past his own warrior's smashing into the lines throwing bodies and the like in to the air. The battle was over the line broke and the bloodbound swarmed into the lines. Yet as the old king was surrounded the armies of the dark gods did not attack.

The mighty lord of khorne looked at him and his men made a circle around them. The chosen shouted his name "I am Ganbold heart eater, I have devoured and taken the head's of many kings you gave my warrior's pause but your skull shall be at the blood god's feet.". Old king Alastair said nothing to the warrior, the heretic all he did was mutter a prayer a prayer to sigmar to guide him and to destroy this foe before he reach's his kingdom.

Several day's later.

"Prince Benedict! the forces of chaos are sieging our walls what to do we do!?" The prince was not ready for this the fact that the enemy is here mean's that his father, his king has failed he did not want to believe it he could not. He farther was one of the greatest champions of sigmar in this kingdom. He pushed the thought away he could see the fear on his betrothed face and her handmaidens. The prince looked at the captain of his knights he seemed eager to ride out and meet the arch enemy but the prince hoped that reinforcement's of the neighboring kingdoms would come to their aid. Yet no news came, nothing at all. He knew most likely they fell under the same plight.

Benedict wondered why has the god-king been silent? Is this a test? Did he want to see if his servant's could destroy the arch enemy without his help? The priest's and war priest's had no answer's to the heavy injuries of the soldiers, the injured on the wall's were piling up in the make shift medical center's. His captain broke him from his thought's when he said "The enemy leader is calling for you my lord." For some reason he felt that it was a bad idea but he wanted to see the creature for himself the one that is bringing his people despair. He wants to burn his face into his heart when he destroys and burn's his corpse for the god-king.

Upon the battlement's the prince saw the vast army and since the siege started he felt the small flicker of doubt the losing of hope. He gazed upon the chaos lord and their eyes met. The khorne lord Bellowed somehow his voice carried to the walls even when surrounded by thousands of cannibalistic warriors. "Small prince-ling, when your wall's break my army will march into your city take the skulls of your people and I shall have you heart on my plate!" as he said this he bit into a small red object blood matting his face and he smiled with red stained teeth.

3 day's later.

"Lord Benedict supplies are running low, there are riots and people praying and screaming in the middle of the street." the prince looked at his captain and spoke "I know yet we don't have the numbers to take on such a foe, I know you want to drop the gate my captain and have our knights charge the foe but we have to wait for reinforcements." The captain looked at his ruler sternly and said "Permission to speak freely my lord?" Benedict nodded to his captain. The captain spoke again "The reinforcements, will never come my lord I suspect that other kingdoms face the same situation sitting here will solve nothing. If we are to die then we shall do so by giving the enemy the fury of sigmar." The prince flinched at his captain's words he knew this but did not want to sacrifice his people he told the rest of the court to leave save his betrothed.

She kept up a stern face of defiance but Benedict could see the fear and he asked her with a slight shake in his voice. "What can I do my future queen? Queen Sofia? What can I do?" The queen spoke slowly trying to keep a brave face, "My prince and love it is clear strength of arms will not break the foe but we must trust in sigmar I feel his light has not abandoned us." Her word's pained him warrior priests have prayed to the sky, yet no lighting strikes the foe, they pray to heal the injured yet no divine light closes the wounds. Benedict sighed "I shall go to the private chapel perhaps sigmar might give me the answer I require."

Later on in the day ignoring the screaming of his people in the private castle chapel he knelt. "Oh mighty sigmar savior of saphra, guiding light and vengeful storm please give me an answer! How can I save my people!? I look for answer's I see none in the darkness save the bloody smile of the heretic khornate. Your faithful servant's bleed on the battlements to keep the people safe please answer us! Don't leave us in despair great god king. Take me if my life could save my people I would offer it a thousand times!" Yet after pouring his heart out to the statue of the sigmar. There was nothing save the sound of the dying and the shaking siege weapons crashing into the walls. For once in a long time the prince wept and truly felt lost but something or someone did hear his plea just not the person the prince was hoping for.

A black shadow sit's in the gloom of a dark world on a throne of bones, he looks at sigmar drawing back into his realm his power leaving his faithful stranded. Those who could not make it to his realm were left to the whims of chaos. Yet he heard a heartfelt plea someone so small and ripe. The being gazed upon this small thing this kingdom living within the realm of ghur. He heard and he bellowed. It seems "Simgar the deceiver, Sigmar the barbarian, Sigmar the traitor has abandoned a bastion of light and man." The great being sent his thought's, his will to the instrument of the kingdom's "salvation". He will send the night itself to bring darkness upon chaos and this small speck of light.

Reports after reports Benedict read's of riots, killings and other sort of crimes. How could the kingdom fall to this? His farther's kingdom was known as the beacon of sigmar, the people and knights staunch followers to the god king's will. It angered him all his court knew it they had no words and day after day his captain told him the same thing. It was only within the private chapel he had peace. Yet today felt different it felt more cold in here. Until he turned his back and saw a man a bald pale man watching him gauging his reaction. Benedict pulled his sword and the man moved quicker than the eye and forced his sword back into's sheath and held his mouth closed.

Man said silently showing his fangs. "Ssssssssh, small creature, I have come, I will help you save your kingdom." Benedict eyes widened he could not believe what he was hearing, what this creature of darkness was saying to him. He slowly removed his hand from his mouth and sword. The man spoke again "Ah where are my manners? I am Mannfred Von Carstein. I came to offer you salvation" Benedict heard tales of these creature's blood suckers and carrion drainers, he knew not to parley with such a creature but what choice did he have? He knew it was only a matter of time before they storm the city all neighboring towns has fallen and the warrior priests are without power.

Benedict spoke plainly "What are the terms of this "help"?", Mannfred walked around the prince it seemed like he was assessing him "I require one thing, you." he said plainly. Benedict mind raced with what he just said does he mean to turn him into a slave? A pedigree blood bag? A thrall? Mannfred smirked "Ah the small mind of the prince-ling think's I am going to turn you into cattle? No, I have something in mind for you and I can only give it to you if you accept it. If not I shall leave and either way I shall take this place considering your effort's I prefer if you were there at least." Benedict's mouth went dry "If I accept my kingdom can be saved?" Mannfred simply smiled and said "Yes".

Without a word Benedict nodded and said "I accept your offer I shall pay whatever price to save my people from chaos." Mannfred smiled and laughed then he moved in quickly and sank his fang's into Benedict, his vision slowly drained away into darkness. Benedict awoke cold and hungry and he saw Mannfred scratching rune's causally into the holy statue of Sigmar. He looked at the prince while smiling and said "Ah, you are awake, good we have a lot of work ahead of us.." Benedict hissed "What have you done to me Mannfred!" Mannfred's yellow eye's flashed red for an instant and he spoke low with a small growl "You do not address me that way, my new son from now on it's Master, father or... King." Benedict felt a strange compulsion and said "Yes... master...father.." the vampire nodded "Good, now it's time for the rest of your court, come with me son I shall educate you."

Benedict could not go against him, he couldn't as he saw Mannfred walked up the stairs all Benedict heard were screams and he followed on.

They were on the battlement's gazing upon the chaos army. Benedict was with his captain as mannfred watched above on his Dread Abyssal surrounded by wailing spirits and his bone like angels. He looked upon his captain all he saw was hunger in his eye's of course he resisted at first, so did his betrothed and her handmaidens. His captain spoke "My lord shall I gather my knights for the charge?" Benedict nodded to his captain and he left to prepare. Ever since that day Benedict felt he slowly changed he did not care what it cost to save his city, he converted his court with the instruction of mannfred, He had his captain gather all the looters and rioters had them killed and raised as foot soldiers those who challenged him were dealt in the same way.

Benedict gazed at the Bloodbound banner with his old father tied to it. He looked up toward's Mannfred he spoke to him even though he did not need to utter words. "Dear son display to the dogs of chaos what I have taught you." Benedict looked at his old father and raised his hand the blood bound has stripped most of the meat from his body but even so he focused on him and felt a connection. Amethyst energy danced around his corpse and the body began to twitch even reduced to bones the old king and his old father displayed a strength that far surpassed mortals. The old king tore off his binding's to the shock of the blood bound and stood and gave a scream even though he bared no lungs while slicing a blood reaver in half with his black sword and suddenly around him skeleton warrior's rose with broken shields and swords and began fighting the enemy.

Benedict raised his hands and then a loud screeching was heard in the winds until a black swarm came that bought utter darkness to them.

Benedict sat on his throne to the sounds of bat's screeching around him. It has been a long time since that battle but he always think's about it his weakness, his false faith in sigmar the deceiver, sigmar the traitor, sigmar the barbarian and what his new master has shown him. He abandoned his old name he is now lord and master of this kingdom, Benedict Von Carstein. He gazed on upon his kingdom of night. Mannfred has bade him to move to the shyish but there is news of war upon the wind which put that plan on hold. Still his captain the leader of his blood knights gave a new missive from his master. He told him to muster an army to march upon the realm of life. He smiled while taking a cup filled with red liquid to his lips.

I don't have anything elaborate planned like that but I am thinking of having a beast Lord lead his chaos warband. It'll include warriors, beastman units, and other chaos stuff. Fluff is pretty much he brute forced his way to the top, showing an unnatural cunning and ferocity not typically seen in beastmen. He's earned the respect of the chaos warriors by defeating the few challengers he has and some murmur under their breath that mayhaps this goatman may be under the watch of the dark gods. His name will be Rantuko the dark-touched.

 Cptskillet wrote:
I don't have anything elaborate planned like that but I am thinking of having a beast Lord lead his chaos warband. It'll include warriors, beastman units, and other chaos stuff. Fluff is pretty much he brute forced his way to the top, showing an unnatural cunning and ferocity not typically seen in beastmen. He's earned the respect of the chaos warriors by defeating the few challengers he has and some murmur under their breath that mayhaps this goatman may be under the watch of the dark gods. His name will be Rantuko the dark-touched.

Even if it's small it's great that your leader has a history. Perhaps more stories will be made in battle I do like chaos is one happy family now so to speak.

We recently played a store campaign (just before the Season of War) where I used Empire. I wanted to use Karl Franz as he is the only big bad model I have and everyone else was taking things like Skarbrand, the Glottkin or the Mortarcs.

The story I wrote for the background was that just before the Glottkin landed the killing bow against Karl Franz in the old world, Ghal Maraz reacted to a moment in the future where the Glottkin and the Celestant Prime were fighting and the two different points in time were connected, pulling Karl Franz, and his surrounding troops, into the future. As the campaign went on he realized that he needed to die at that point in the past in order for the new world to occur so he had to track down the Glottkin and challenge him to single combat. Karl ended up defeating the Glottkin with the aid of a Celestant Prime but in the final moments of the combat the two magical hammers touched and hurled him back into the past, where he was killed by the Glottkin. He died knowing that his sacrifice would lead to the new world, a world in which the forces of Order stood a change against the forces of Chaos.

Not lore or canon at all but it was fun to play it out over a weekend. Also a bloody good excuse to use Karl Franz and end up with two Ghal Maraz on the table

The tyrant Smash Maw led a band of Ogor mercenaries. They fought for gold and cared little for who they had to trample for it, travelling from realm to realm pillaging and plundering.
During a rampage through Chamon, the band of thugs happened across a small band of Tzeentch mortals, Smash Maw smirked thinking only of what valuable artifact they must be hunting for. His ogors
made short work of the cultists, suffering not even a single casualty in return; that is until Smash Maw himself cornered the sorcerer lord wanting the glory of killing him for himself. The sorcerer
called upon eldrich energies and cast a bolt right into Smash Maw's loyal and trusted steed; Ehddy. The donkey fell motionlessly to the ground, evicerated or perhaps freed as the bolt tore through it.
Enraged Smash Maw threw aside his weapons and began punching the lord over and over again, denting and breaking through the runic armour he wore. Realising what was coming the sorcerer once again called
upon his magical energy and cursed Smash Maw and his band or pirates; however dying before it could be completed. The Ogors' skin turned green to reflect their Orrukish behaviour, a song faintly filling
their heads which would later only grow in strength and send the band into complete insanity. Smash Maw continued to wander the realms with his loyal followers searching for treasure and a way to break the curse
little to his knowledge, or of that of his followers, the gold they continued to collect had long stopped actually being gold; instead the cursed Ogors saw simple onions as nuggets of gold.

 n0t_u wrote:
The tyrant Smash Maw led a band of Ogor mercenaries. They fought for gold and cared little for who they had to trample for it, travelling from realm to realm pillaging and plundering.
During a rampage through Chamon, the band of thugs happened across a small band of Tzeentch mortals, Smash Maw smirked thinking only of what valuable artifact they must be hunting for. His ogors
made short work of the cultists, suffering not even a single casualty in return; that is until Smash Maw himself cornered the sorcerer lord wanting the glory of killing him for himself. The sorcerer
called upon eldrich energies and cast a bolt right into Smash Maw's loyal and trusted steed; Ehddy. The donkey fell motionlessly to the ground, evicerated or perhaps freed as the bolt tore through it.
Enraged Smash Maw threw aside his weapons and began punching the lord over and over again, denting and breaking through the runic armour he wore. Realising what was coming the sorcerer once again called
upon his magical energy and cursed Smash Maw and his band or pirates; however dying before it could be completed. The Ogors' skin turned green to reflect their Orrukish behaviour, a song faintly filling
their heads which would later only grow in strength and send the band into complete insanity. Smash Maw continued to wander the realms with his loyal followers searching for treasure and a way to break the curse
little to his knowledge, or of that of his followers, the gold they continued to collect had long stopped actually being gold; instead the cursed Ogors saw simple onions as nuggets of gold.

That is amazing. I love it.

In the Age of Myth he awoke, revived from his deep slumber by the rampant Winds of Magic. Looking around, he saw the familiar sights of his tomb in the White Palace, yet everything was... different... The Winds that he had known so well were no longer there. In their place was something stronger, something purer. This place was Death incarnate. For a second he wondered if he had suffered Final Death and arrived in the Underworld.

Then the memories started creeping back. He remembered the fierce battles they had fought to defend their ancient homes from the Usurper and his cohorts, but it all had come to naught. The Usurper had defeated Settra the Imperishable, infiltrated the Underworld and consumed its ruler, Usirian. He had left the land in ruins and returned north with all who would follow him. Not long thereafter, the World That Was had ended.

Sehenesmet sighed, producing a sound reminiscent of the creaking of old, dried leather. If only his Lord, and the other Old Gods, had realized the scope of the Usurper's plans. Maybe then they would have brought back their most Ancient servants, servants who did not care much for another turf war in Nehekhara, but who certainly had an interest in the preservation of the Old Pantheon and the World That Was. Maybe then things would have been different.

He could feel the dormant minds of his followers all around him, still ready to rise at his call. While slowly climbing his old bones out of the sarcophagus, he activated them. He was going to need their assistance.

His Vessel, the most recent of his masterpieces, still stood guard over his throne, the throne of the Vizier of Quatar. Sehenesmet elevated himself into his Vessel, and transferred his awareness into the pathways of the giant structure. The ancient stone Animated, and a cloud of dust spread as it started moving. The other statues in the throne room came to life as well, and he was pleased to hear the clattering movements of his servants outside. He could perceive the presence of the Usurper far away, a presence so strong that it left no doubt about who ruled these lands.

Walking out into the strong sun, and seeing the grandeur of the White Palace, built into the cliffs of what used to be the entrance to the Charnel Valley, reinforced his belief in what had to be done. The Usurper had ruled long enough - it was time for his Lord, Djaf, the True God of Death, to return, and assume power over the Underworld. It would be no small task.

The first step would be to understand the situation - to figure out the nature of this new world that he had awoken in. Sehenesmet set out together with his minions to investigate his surroundings.

Solaris wrote:
In the Age of Myth he awoke, revived from his deep slumber by the rampant Winds of Magic. Looking around, he saw the familiar sights of his tomb in the White Palace, yet everything was... different... The Winds that he had known so well were no longer there. In their place was something stronger, something purer. This place was Death incarnate. For a second he wondered if he had suffered Final Death and arrived in the Underworld.

Then the memories started creeping back. He remembered the fierce battles they had fought to defend their ancient homes from the Usurper and his cohorts, but it all had come to naught. The Usurper had defeated Settra the Imperishable, infiltrated the Underworld and consumed its ruler, Usirian. He had left the land in ruins and returned north with all who would follow him. Not long thereafter, the World That Was had ended.

Sehenesmet sighed, producing a sound reminiscent of the creaking of old, dried leather. If only his Lord, and the other Old Gods, had realized the scope of the Usurper's plans. Maybe then they would have brought back their most Ancient servants, servants who did not care much for another turf war in Nehekhara, but who certainly had an interest in the preservation of the Old Pantheon and the World That Was. Maybe then things would have been different.

He could feel the dormant minds of his followers all around him, still ready to rise at his call. While slowly climbing his old bones out of the sarcophagus, he activated them. He was going to need their assistance.

His Vessel, the most recent of his masterpieces, still stood guard over his throne, the throne of the Vizier of Quatar. Sehenesmet elevated himself into his Vessel, and transferred his awareness into the pathways of the giant structure. The ancient stone Animated, and a cloud of dust spread as it started moving. The other statues in the throne room came to life as well, and he was pleased to hear the clattering movements of his servants outside. He could perceive the presence of the Usurper far away, a presence so strong that it left no doubt about who ruled these lands.

Walking out into the strong sun, and seeing the grandeur of the White Palace, built into the cliffs of what used to be the entrance to the Charnel Valley, reinforced his belief in what had to be done. The Usurper had ruled long enough - it was time for his Lord, Djaf, the True God of Death, to return, and assume power over the Underworld. It would be no small task.

The first step would be to understand the situation - to figure out the nature of this new world that he had awoken in. Sehenesmet set out together with his minions to investigate his surroundings.

It would be quite interesting if tomb kings return in some new form that some of them would think like this. I really like your back story it's really interesting.

I haven't come up with a real fluff story but my army is "The Charnel Court of (the Good) King Shivergloom", a Flesh Eater Courts army laired in some as-yet-unnamed land that I envision looking like something out of Sleepy Hollow or the Walking Dead (albeit not modern): Forests of rotting, decrepit trees, perpetual twilight, mossy embankments by stagnant streams, crumbling and abandoned villages, ruined castles with tattered banners in which slavering, degenerate cannibals live their delusions of being noblemen. I admit that I like the Flesh-Eater Courts fluff so much that I'm really using them stock as-is with little or no deviation.

Something like this as the inspiration:



Music for inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IR0UAS5FjdM (for best results, imagine walking through a gloomy forest at twilight up until 1:10, when the ghouls arrive)

I think it's great that you envisioned your army in such a way.

I think the flesh eater courts have some of the best fluff so far. Honestly there has never been a time I have been disappointed with undead fluff in warhammer.

What about End Times...

pm713 wrote:
What about End Times...

Nope was not disappointed with that either loved the character development which has somewhat been carried over. Plus the fact it is kinda revealed that mannfred was marked out for servitude since Hel fenn by nagash honestly enjoyed all the undead characters I enjoy mannfred's story and struggle with his servitude by nagash i enjoyed the story of Arkhan's and Mannfreds working relationship when trying to resurrect nagash. Honestly I think nagash has some strange soft spot for him for some reason Arkhan does also state nagash has some strange affection for vampires for some reason. Nagash in AOS always refer's to mannfred as Son, Prodigal son, Mortarch and prince-ling. Honestly I find nagash calling mannfred Pordigal son interesting if you know the story. Now that's not the point of the topic.

If you have an army background to share please share it.

 shinros wrote:

pm713 wrote:
What about End Times...

Nope was not disappointed with that either loved the character development which has somewhat been carried over. Plus the fact it is kinda revealed that mannfred was marked out for servitude since Hel fenn by nagash honestly enjoyed all the undead characters I enjoy mannfred's story and struggle with his servitude by nagash. Honestly I think nagash has some strange soft spot for him for some reason Arkhan does also state nagash has some strange affection for vampires for some reason. Now that's not the point of the topic.

If you have an army background to share please share it.

Different strokes for different folks I guess.

I won't degrade the thread with how Mary Sue it is.

pm713 wrote:

 shinros wrote:

pm713 wrote:
What about End Times...

Nope was not disappointed with that either loved the character development which has somewhat been carried over. Plus the fact it is kinda revealed that mannfred was marked out for servitude since Hel fenn by nagash honestly enjoyed all the undead characters I enjoy mannfred's story and struggle with his servitude by nagash. Honestly I think nagash has some strange soft spot for him for some reason Arkhan does also state nagash has some strange affection for vampires for some reason. Now that's not the point of the topic.

If you have an army background to share please share it.

Different strokes for different folks I guess.

I won't degrade the thread with how Mary Sue it is.

Yup different strokes for different folks. People like different things such is life.

pm713 wrote:

 shinros wrote:

pm713 wrote:
What about End Times...

Nope was not disappointed with that either loved the character development which has somewhat been carried over. Plus the fact it is kinda revealed that mannfred was marked out for servitude since Hel fenn by nagash honestly enjoyed all the undead characters I enjoy mannfred's story and struggle with his servitude by nagash. Honestly I think nagash has some strange soft spot for him for some reason Arkhan does also state nagash has some strange affection for vampires for some reason. Now that's not the point of the topic.

If you have an army background to share please share it.

Different strokes for different folks I guess.

I won't degrade the thread with how Mary Sue it is.

Cliche maybe, but it isn't Mary Sue at all. Mannfred and Nagash are pretty far from that.

 NinthMusketeer wrote:

pm713 wrote:

 shinros wrote:

pm713 wrote:
What about End Times...

Nope was not disappointed with that either loved the character development which has somewhat been carried over. Plus the fact it is kinda revealed that mannfred was marked out for servitude since Hel fenn by nagash honestly enjoyed all the undead characters I enjoy mannfred's story and struggle with his servitude by nagash. Honestly I think nagash has some strange soft spot for him for some reason Arkhan does also state nagash has some strange affection for vampires for some reason. Now that's not the point of the topic.

If you have an army background to share please share it.

Different strokes for different folks I guess.

I won't degrade the thread with how Mary Sue it is.

Cliche maybe, but it isn't Mary Sue at all. Mannfred and Nagash are pretty far from that.

I meant my lore was Mary Sue.

Great stories here. I loved the Original Posters story. While I am not good with words I will share my story of my upcoming army. I already said it in another thread, since I didn't see this until now. So will say it again here.

I don't know what to do with my Stormcasts since I never cared for them. But an idea came to me. These will be Fallen Stormcasts. They have come to realize who Sigmar really is. Sigmar the Coward. Sigmar the False god. Sigmar the Selfish.

These Stormcasts were great warriors and were fighting Chaos. Sigmar "abducted" them just when they were about to be triumphant. Because they were abudicted their family, their tribes were slaughtered/murdered/taken as slaves and tortured. These Stormcasts Eternals had their memories wiped like all Stormcasts do. How long they have fought for Sigmar time doesn't know. Maybe it was Nagash, or maybe it was someone else or a flaw in creating Stormcasts, these Stormcasts remember, or have partial memories of who they were before.

They realized what happened to their loved ones. The found out what happened to their tribes. Most of the Stormcast Eternals are furious that their loved ones/tribes would have survived if they were not abudutcted for Sigmars person gain. They found out they suffered greatly when they didn't need to.

For some of the Stormcasts, they would have perished with their loved ones if they were not abudcuted, but Sigmar stole from them the honour of dying with their loved ones and going to what ever after life they believed in.

So while a lot of Stormcasts have no family/kinsmen alive now, all they have is Revenge on their minds As the saying goes, "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." So while before they would have never fathomed they would become allies to the very people who killed and slaughtered their famlies/tribes their hatred for Sigmar overrides this revolution for allying up to them.

For others who have tribesman still alive, they are with them and protect them and fight along with them. While they still might not have the form of their peoples and is in the image if Sigmar, the love of the people accept the Stormcasts among them. While the Stormcasts are shamed they don't look like how they did before they were abudcted the love of their people and being accepted back into the tribe, they fight even harder to defeat Sigmar the Betrayer. Sigmar the Coward. Sigmar the False god.

For some Stormcasts, their hatred for Sigmar is so strong they will do anything to hurt Sigmar. While they might not be able to kill Sigmar, or defeat Sigmar some Stormcasts have allied with Deamons and took on their power and disfigured themselves with Deamons and Chaos.

This hurts Sigmar even more than he was ever speared or wounded physically. A physical wound can heal. What Sigmar considers so Pure, so Holy, so Perfect these Stormcasts took on demonic wings, they took on physical disfigurements. This hurts Sigmar more than any wound or even death can deal to Sigmar. For these Stormcasts, Sigmar makes it a priority to destroy once and for all for the abomination these Stormcasts due to Sigmar. This is a great pain Sigmar deals with every day and can never get rid off. For this pain is so much worse than actual death. And this is the only pleasure that these Stormcasts can relish in for causing the greatest "wound" to Sigmar.

So this way I can use any army that I want. I like a lot of the Khonre minis, but don't want them to worship Khorne or any Daemon gods at all.

Now I can use the new Orgors (sorry still forgetting the proper names) in my army if I want to.

I can also use Orruks now as well.

If or when Sigmar ever gets the upper hand on these Stormcasts, a lot of them will band together to protect the others tribes and or families. While they might be different races, and maybe even the families/tribes may be at war with each other, they are Brothers because of what Sigmar did to them and they are united with the HATRED they have for Sigmar the Faker.

That's a awesome story, in your other topic I made the point that this is somewhat happening the lord of undeath book explains it none have betrayed sigmar "yet" still you guys are the first but I suspect it will be nagash that will make the first one fall "officially". What is interesting is that many stormcast are suffering from this problem they were taken when they secured peace for their kingdom or the fights were their clans were at stake. If they were there would they have survived and prosper? Or died? That's the question that bothers most of them. Still I shall spoiler tag it the lord of undeath spoilers



Funny enough Nagash and the undead having a saying about sigmar. They call him Sigmar the barbarian, Sigmar the traitor, Sigmar the Deceiver, Arkhan also repeats those words when he first meets the stormcast. If you read the spoiler tag it makes sense why nagash thinks that way. Hell when sigmar closed the gate's to ayzr and chaos cultists caused a civil war he decided to vaporize anyone who decided to fight they got the picture pretty quickly. They also make the point that sigmar abandoned everyone who could not make it to his realm since if he did anything before he was ready it would tip chaos off that something was going on. Of course many people resent him for that hence why some turned to chaos and what happened to the prince in my backstory.

I think with your story Davor you may have predicted future parts of the AOS fluff we just have to wait and see.

Current:
In the mists of Ulgu beneath the floating isles lay the whispering seas. Their waters ran deep and cold, the mysteries of ages long since past consumed by the relentless tide and pulled beyond the reach of mortal men. And in these darkened waters creatures warped by the Realms shifting nature lurk, hungry beasts that seek to devour all that would cross their path, unimaginable horrors of teeth and tendrils always shifting just beneath the surface, dragging man and monster alike down to their tragic fates.
Whilst the Shadowed Aelven kings may have claimed domain on land with their young god twisting the Realm to his will, the seas remained wild and untamed. Their essense running deeper with the shifting nature of the realm, the unkowable, untamable, unreachable coalescing in blackened waters and thick mists.
It is here, in these cold and unknown places that the Pirates of Ulgu lurk, roaming ships carved from the husks of monstrocities of ages passed, foul creations warped by the Realm. Ogors by any other measure but born of Ulgu, raiders and pillagers, tyrants and butchers who bring with them hordes of the Shadow Beast that others could not dare to tame.
Drifting from the mists to set upon their prey, only to fade back into the darkness when their deeds are done.

History:
The everwinter is a brutal force at the backs of Beastclaw tribes, roaming Ghur as the constant, bitter eternal cold drives at their backs. It is a force of nature but beyond nature itself, all consuming as it carves an icy path acrosss the Realms, this is what drives the Beastclaws forwards, constantly moving at the head of the great storm, always within it but walking beyond it.

In centuries past one of the great tribes of the Beastclaws, the Shatter Maw raiders, famed across Ghur for their ruthless indifference to their foes and their relentless pursuit of greater prey to claim as trophies. When word reached their Frostlord Jag-Gore that spawn of the Great Salamander might still exist is Aqysh, realm of fire, he could not resist the challenge, such beasts had felled a pathetic dwarven god, and such a prize would secure his reign over the tribe throughout time.

It had been an age since any tribe so large had dared cross into Aqysh, too suited to the cold to risk the flame they had roamed the softer lands, preying on villages that crossed their path. But in his desire for a greater hunt Jag-Gore steered his beasts through the Realmgate, crossing into the great beyond. What happened next was beyond his ancitipation, the sheer cold of the Everwinter clashed with the heat and flame of Aqysh. Hot and cold swirling, dancing, cleaving at each other with neither able to find the upperhand, the everwinter surged further and further out from the realmgate, hungry to claim this realm and quench the fire. But flame was the very heart of Aqysh and it would not be snuffed out so easy/

And so began what would become known as the Hungering Tempest, a great storm that wracked Aqysh from the fire planes in the north to the slumbering volcanoes to the south, a swirling destructive mess that sent monolithic bolts of lightning carving through mountains and electrifying lava flows. Despite great loses a force from the College Arcanate and Ironweld Arsenals surged into the realm, travelling the trecharous path through broken landscape and bubbling magma to the open Realmgate. It took days to cleave the ice that held the gate open, weeks to assemble their arcane machinery, and in this time many of their number froze or burnt alive to the swirling ice infernos that engulfed the area. It was with his dying breath that the Arch wizard of the expedition activated their arcane device, erupting within the ancient artifices of the gate, as the gate crumbled a tear formed between realm, sucking the storm through a hole in reality into the void itself. With it were pulled the entirirty of the reamining Shatter Maw, so too fell the human and dwarf expedition and many beasts of the realm, but as the last of the storm fell into the void the Seal healed itself leaving Aqysh intact once more.

For centuries the storm began to slip from memory, forged into myth and legend by those who followed and rarely believed to have happened. And yet such a force lies beyond nature, it cannot simply be destroyed, hundreds of years since it had fallen out of reality the slightest tear, deep within the mist soaked seas of Ulgu began to form, and the swirling tempest clawed its way back through, pouring the Shattermaw out into the Oceans to fight for their own survival. Now born of the Storm itself, shaped by the shifting seas into which they fell, the Pirates of Ulgu were born, Frostlord no more Jag-gore took upon himself the title of Thunder-lord, head of the Storm.

That was bloody amazing. I enjoyed reading it.

Fun thread! Thanks for making it so I can share what I made, where I made an army to capture a background...but it's not one that I wrote. Here's a sample:



For all are equal in death.

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ECHOES OF THE END TIMES
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There are songs so ancient that no one remembers who first sang them, but though the singer is gone, the song remains.

Before the Age of Sigmar, before the Age of Chaos, before even the Age of Myth, there was a time when all shared but one world and but one sky.

Yet such times must come to an end. Countless warriors had fought during that forgotten age for clan and country, for fame and family.

All of that is lost now, or transformed utterly. Yet the warriors...or at least that unquenchable part of them that knew ONLY war...remained.

They had spent their lives fighting one another, for reasons none of them can remember, they now continue under but one banner...

...for all are equal in death.

There are songs so ancient that on one remembers even the song, but though the song is gone, perhaps its echoes linger into eternity.

A confession - I was never really into Warhammer Fantasy, outside of Heroquest, the novels and the roleplaying games. I had absolutely loved the End Times, which was some very good reading, and the greatest pity of the End Times is that such a time must end. Age of Sigmar is very interesting, and I do really appreciate the new models, which even my friends who say they hate AoS concede are something they want to buy and paint (and perhaps one day play).

My army has a backbone of 30 skeletons of those pictured above, where I just showed 1 of each race to share with my friends, are collector's items from the out-of-print Cursed Company. I had to replace their shields, most of which were missing, with storm shields I thought were really good matches (though 1 day I may replace them). The idea was that the End Times killed pretty much everyone, and as said in the story, all are equal in death.

This was both my love letter and my time capsule for Warhammer Fantasy, dedicate to all those that played it. I really got to take pics of my whole army soon.

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THEN THE GENERAL'S HANDBOOK CAME OUT AND THE STORY CONTINUES
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Pictured: Milady, The Left Nut of Nagash, basically Vampirella, really, and The Gravedigger

She remembers being in love.

It was a long time ago, before this Age, or the last, or the one before that, and it's hard to recall anything from that far back.

She recollects there had been good times and bad times; it was a typical marriage...yes, they had been married, hadn't they? There was a period where they were separated, and even now she wonders what the reason was. She concludes it must have been utterly heartbreaking. She does remember that, when they finally reconciled, they had a big fight. She wasn't quite herself, but with such matters of the heart, sometimes the blood doesn't quite flow to the brain, yet...

She looks down at her hand, at her ring finger, at her ring, and THIS she recalls with clarity. As soon as he had slipped this ring onto her hand, she remembers falling in love...not the exact circumstances, but the sensation...again and forevermore.

She remembers being in love, but for the life (or undeath) of her, she can't recall his name. And now that she thinks about it...she realises that she can't even recall her own.

That's the story of "Milady", the left-most figure pictured above, who may or may not be Isabella.

In the End Times, the greatest a better story than Twilight happened between Vlad Von Carstein and Isabella Von Carstein. For those that missed it, Vlad had died long ago in battle, Isabella who had been fighting alongside him flung herself to her death rather than spend an eternity without him. Vlad was resurrected by Nagash to lead his armies, on the condition that he would also bring Isabella back. But when Nurgle possessed Isabella to lead his own Daemons, they fought, tumbling off the ramparts of the castle where they first met, and in his final act he slipped his Ring of Immortality onto her finger. They both died, but in dying Isabella's posession was expelled, and she revived due to the power of his ring.

It's been neither a thousand, nor ten thousand, but countless thousands of years since the End Times in the Age of Sigmar. To capture that with this army, I ran a generic Vampire Lord that may or may not be Isabella, just to leave it ambiguous. When the General's Handbook came out, one of the artefacts for a Death army was the Ring of Immortality of Vlad. Already having used this model as my General, I added that artefact on her as it seemed most appropriate.

Most of all, I really liked this idea she can't remember who she is anymore. A vampire's form is eternal, but her soul is corrupt, so what of her mind? Her mind might have snapped from either the long years or grief, so that she either cannot or does not want to remember her past with Vlad because of the pain it brings to know that he's gone forever. But the greatest divide has always been what the mind thinks and what the heart feels, and there her love may indeed calculably be infinite.

Or y'know what, let's keep it simple, she may/may not be Isabella, screw it. Still a better love story than Twilight tho.

The rest are just figures I put into my army as an excuse to paint them, as sometimes I swap out Heroes in my list for fun.

Great stories there Melcavuk and Commissar Waaaghrick.

Really enjoyed reading them.

Not very good, but I wrote a tiny bit of backstory about my force. Again, it's not that good and is pretty much "every undead-haunted area in any game, ever" but I like it. I was a big WoW player, so I'm imagining Duskwood or Tirisfal Glades when I read this.

Hear now the tale of the Charnel Kingdom and its vile master, the ravenous monster Shivergloom, that calls himself The Charnel King.

To the east lies a land on its deathbed. The skies are always overcast, filled with gray clouds, and during the height of the day the land is filled with the perpetual shadow of dusk. The ground is barren, graying brown with pale, dying grass sprouting in patches like hair on a leper. The trees in this land grow gnarled and rotted from birth, and no leaves crown their twisted branches. Nothing grows in this forlorn land, no beasts roam the wilds, and the air is always chilled and silent as the grave.

Across this forlorn landscape are shattered ruins and burned out husks of hamlets, long since abandoned, decrepit and decaying like the land around them. Occasionally, a traveler to this land may be struck by delusion and view what is a rotted out corpse of a house as an inviting home, smoke billowing from a chimney, only to find an abandoned wreck and the bones of its former occupants when arriving. At the center of the land, like a huge broken tooth, is Bleakrock Keep, the lair of the land's monstrous king and his evil minions.

Long since fallen into ruin, the castle juts from a jagged bluff. Tattered banners, their emblems long since faded, flutter in a breeze which carries the stink of rotten meat and the sweet cloying smell of dead flesh. Amidst the forlon, empty halls lurk the king's minions, in their delusion pretending they are proud courtesans and men-at-arms as they gnaw rotten bones and rancid flesh in the dark, surrounding by the trappings of days long gone by that are slowly withering way into dust.

On a throne built of bones in a hall of moss-covered stone, King Shivergloom sits surrounded by his minions, in his madness seeing himself seated upon a golden throne in a majestic castle even as the crumbling ruin around him falls further into decay. The king ever longs to expand his domain, and turn the surrounding lands to match his kingdom.

All of these stories and backgrounds are wonderful.

Heres the fluff for my death army so fae
He stood there a monarch from another time another place another world even. His golden army and his purple cloak moving in the wind. Like many more of his kind he hae seen the fate of the world that was but my the grace of Nagash him and his legions of death a combined force of his legions from Nehekara and those of his Vampire brother Alexandre had survived into this new realm. Turning around he saw his city of death for the first time. Walls being tended to by the corpses of criminals who's souls had been bound to their body so that even in death they might serve him while the towers bore symbols of old Nehekara. "The gods never gave us the paradise they promised" said the Tomb King.

Walking in leaning on his staff like a old man came the High Liche Priest Imhotep. He had been one of many who had joined Nagash during the end of the world that was and had learnt much. However he thirster for more necromantic knowledge and power. "My King Imri Nagash had sent one of his mortarchs to talk with you. He seeks a alliance it seems" said the old Liche his voice rough like the desert wind. "Very well i shall meet with him" said Imri.

Walking back into his palace Imri first went to his weapons chamber to fetch hid two handed Monarchs tomb blade which he had named the soul reaver. He was disappointed hid brother had not seen this mortarchs arrival with his scrying but it did not surprise him for all creatures of soul blight owed loyalty to Nagash and his Mortarchs. Reaching his throne room Imri sat on his throne just in time to see the Mortarch arrive. He recognised him at once for even atop his abyssal mount he could smell the vampire.

Here's a bit of fluff for my Deathrattle army, also known as the Kingdom of the Broken Chains:

I sleep.

Deep within my fortress, in the darkness of my ancient tomb, I rest.

Around me, in the chambers and halls of the castle I call home, my brothers and sisters slumber, their vigil eternal, their service unending.

It has been long since they were roused to perform their duties.

It has been long since one dared enter the Kingdom of the Broken Chains.

The kingdom we conquered from tyrants and butchers.

The kingdom whose chains we broke and cast off.

The kingdom we reshaped into greatness.

The kingdom that is now our tomb.

But even here, in the darkness, we felt it.

We felt the world’s death throes, as its plains were scoured, as its life was extinguished…

…and as its light finally died.

But that was not the end. Not for us, and not for our world.

As the Realms formed and blossomed, we slumbered still, in our quiet, untouched fragment of the world.

But now, our hour has come.

As the one I once called queen opened my tomb and pressed her ever-living lips against my undying skull, I felt a thousand souls stir back to life.

As I rose from my tomb, dust falling from my ancient bones, I heard a thousand more rattle their broken chains.

I am the Slave-Born King.

And we have returned.

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The ancient kingdom lies in a forgotten corner of the Mortal Realms, at the center of a dark forest. Once, it had been the stronghold of a dynasty of vile and wicked tyrants, whose wealth and power were sustained by the enslavement of the various human tribes that wandered in the forest. The slaves were not only forced to perform any hard labour their masters desired, but were also pressed into arenas where they had to fight for their very lives, all for the amusement of the kingdom's nobility.

One among the slaves, a man now only known as the Slave-Born King, managed to survive the hell of the arenas time after time, emerging victorious against even the most dangerous beasts and warriors the kingdom possessed. Impressed, the last of the tyrants elevated him into the ranks of his army, where he began a steady climb to the top of the hierarchy. In secret, the once-gladiator conspired to dispose of the king and his court, avenging the brothers and sisters who had perished under their terrible reign. Around the campfires of the kingdom's army were whispered plans and schemes, as the ex-slave's influence grew and allegiances shifted.

When the rebellion broke loose, the kingdom burned. The old gladiator, now Grandmaster of the army, directed his army expertly against those still loyal to the royal dynasty. A joint offensive by soldiers and liberated slaves on the king's own fortress resulted in the near-total annihilation of the royal family, the king himself thrown from the highest tower by none other than the slave he had elevated into his ranks all those years earlier.

Although the king and his entourage had been successfully deposed, it was discovered that the king's son, a cruel, wicked man who was rumoured to have dabbled in the Dark Arts, had escaped the rebels' hands and had fled into the sewers below the kingdom.

It was in those sewers that the fate of the kingdom was decided for all the millennia to come. As the Slave-Born king and his men finally overwhelmed the last of the loyalists, the king's son, wounded by the Slave-Born and on the edge of death, cursed them all with his final breath. The rumours of his magical powers turned out to be far more true than imagined; the curse was a powerful incantation that bound every man, woman and child to the kingdom until the end of eternity itself. Only the Slave-Born king's wife managed to escape the curse, her fate spun in a different direction through the intervention of a vampire.

Now, aeons later, the Slave-Born king and his brothers and sisters, still shackled to existence by the ancient curse, are woken once more. With the aid of a Necromancer named Virgil, the Slave-Born king's wife, now a vampire of great power, has revived her beloved. The King and his army march through the Realms in search for a way to break the final chain binding them to this world, so that they might finally find the death they have desired for so long...

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Phew, that took a while to write

well, I've got 3 or 4 forces under one banner, so to speak:

Short Version!

Mercenaries (Freeguild/Empire): Under the leadership of their Commander (who has a relic that basically makes him a lich, capturing the souls of those who die around him adding to his life. He can also "open" the relic to unleash the trapped souls to fight in times of need)
Brotherhood of Knights (Freeguild/Empire): An ancient order currently working along side the Mercenary Commander (Brotherhood saved and 'adopted' Merc. Commander at a young age)
Dwarf hold (Dwarves/Ironweld): Members of a fallen hold indebted to the Merc. Commander due to a timely rescue. They fight alongside the Mercs. untill they can refound another hold.
Spirits (Undead): The ghosties that Merc. Commander can summon.

Maybe I'll right up a longer bit of fluff later, who knows

Good job everyone really liking the background information and stories.

Great stories there guys. Love it. Might have to borrow some of the fluff from everyone.