Old World Rumor Mill
A Shining Rebirth: The Knights of the Shining Talon have been officially reborn, flooded with applicants from the noble sons and daughters of Sudenland. While the province of Solland is dead, their legacy has been reborn in some measure by this. While the fates have decreed that the former Count of Wissenland died before his agents could return with the razorbeaks, it is perhaps good fortune that the flock purchased remained hale and hearty until now. The Countess Toppenheimer has organized the re-opening of a large chapterhouse for the knightly order, near the site where the last once resided before the ravaging of Solland in Pfeildorf. With the apparent aid of some of the notoriously mysterious and hard-to-contact Amber Wizards, the razorbeaks have been broken in and have begun training with their knights once more. Solland may be gone, but her sons and daughters ride once more under the banner of the Shining Talon! Many applicants who failed to achieve knighthood or at least acceptance into the Knights Griffon have found their way here, but any thought that they are inherently lesser for it is one of the foremost targets of these new knights, who have already spread out amongst the province and just beyond to slay greenskins, beastmen, and bandits aplenty wherever they can find them! With the Knights Griffon in Nuln and the Shining Talon in Pfeildorf, Wissenland is surely one of the most well-guarded provinces in the Empire!
Bretonnia Holds Celebratory Tourney: Gazgan the Pillager was, quite possibly, one of the worst of the green scourge that the nation which heralds itself and its peoples as 'the flower of chivalry' since its founding has ever faced. Dukes slain, dukedoms ravaged. But it has been years in the past now, and the scars are just beginning to heal, or so it is declared from every town crier in Bretonnia and somewhat beyond. Under the noble and generous hand of King Gaston and the Dukes, every castle sacked has been repaired, the commoners coaxed out of where they had run off to for safety and back to their proper places. Thousands of knights from around Bretonnia attended, featuring jousting for enthusiastic Knights Errant, Knights of the Realm, and even the rarest and most incredible warriors known as the Grail Knights. A few lesser melees were sponsored as well, the men-at-arms of various nobles plying their trades in an effort to properly represent their masters, while the greater and more prestigious melees were fought with none save the knights who saved the realm from the Pillager's ways. Much feasting was had, numerous effigies of the greenskin burning towards the end. Overall, a fine showing of the fact that while the wounds were deep, they
are healing with the blessings of the Lady. None of the few smatterings of so-called 'nobles' of Mousillon attended, for that land is accursed, and none travel too or from there without blackened hearts in their chests.
Sudenberg Slaughtered In Summer: The sheer distance between the southernmost major settlement of the Empire and the remainder of Sigmar's legacy is considerable indeed. For Sudenberg, settled in the times of the Crusades, this has proved a blessing and a curse at differing times. In this case, it appears to be the latter. The distant enclave's large personal fleet for various means were not seen in the ports of Araby this year, much less in those of Marienburg, but it was not until an overland merchant train traveled there that the smoke was seen. The enclave, home to over twenty thousand souls, a bastion of civilization built up over the centuries since the Crusades ended, was razed to the ground. Temples to Sigmar, Ulric, Shallya, and more were either nothing but ash or horrifically desecrated ruin. The bodies of the priests, their robes torn and burnt upon mauled corpses, were lashed high together around a great accursed monument erected in the center of the enclave. Bodies of their killers lay as well, for the enclave was not undefended, whether by knights, militia, or mercenaries. The beastmen of Araby swept out of the deserts, it seems, carrying rams crafted of stone and bone lashed together with intestines, towers erected out of the corpses and salvaged materials from destroyed nomad tribes. A great many debased rituals were clearly performed there, and there is as of yet no sign of the fleet of Sudenberg whatsoever. The land itself seems tainted now, many who venture upon the land suffering nightmares and sickness afterwards. And there are far fewer bodies than who were once purported to live there – which only conjures more horror. All that can be done is pray for the souls of those slain and taken.
Griffon's Set Out: With the conclusion of the Griffon Tournament, many of the new Knights Griffon accepted into the order completed training this year and were unleashed upon the darkness. They did not disappoint, and brought honor and glory to the Emperor and Sigmar many times over this year. Of especial note is something which will surely go down in the annals of the knightly order as one of their greatest times, for the Emperor himself sallied forth with them, determined to put the hammer of Sigmar itself against the foes of the Empire in the most direct manner possible. With prior agreements with many other members of the nobility of the south, the Knights Griffon were not hindered in the pursuing of their duty whatsoever. A forest goblin horde which emerged from the Reikwald was smashed apart by a combined effort from the Reiksguard and the Knights Griffon with the weapon of the Heldenhammer at their head. A warherd of beastmen with a ferocious number of minotaurs and bestigors that tore out of the Drakwald were caught in the act as they laid siege to their first village, the Knights Griffon providing the anvil, and a reinforcing force of White Wolves providing their hammers. Later in the year, a necromancer emerged from their tower in the deep forest of Talabecland to find that their teeming hordes of undead greenskins and zombified beastmen under assault not just from the Knights Griffon – but the giant of Talabecland as well who fought alongside the state troops of Taal's province. All this and more, with the Emperor at the head, and it can be rightly said that the sight of Magnus wielding Ghal Maraz is one of the more inspiring sights in the world, even more so when he is driving the foes of the Empire before him!
The Wandering Longshanks: There is only one order which might truly be said to be the proper formal templars of Taal – though many do not see them as the knights they claim to be. The Longshanks do not bear plate or mail, or indeed much manner of metallic armors, and wander endlessly in small packs. From holy site to holy site of Taal and Rhya, they go. But they are not nearly as well-known, and that seems to have been fine for them…but no longer. The Count Fuerbach's two sons have attacked this problem with the same energy and focus that they put towards their previous efforts – most famous amongst them managing to attract and maintain a giant to the service of their province. In this, they have done so again, working with the Patriarch and Matriarch of Taal and Rhya within Talabecland to order an expansion of the Longshanks as an order, significantly so. By their orders, noble and priestly, the Longshanks are to expand their recruitment efforts, to increase their numbers and patrolling capabilities. Time will tell how successful this will be, but many say that many a destitute individual is surrendering the trappings of civilization to return to Taal's side, this year at least. Sightings of Horned Hunters accompanying many of these, and some even forcing themselves to enter the cities, only lend more to this.
The Vultures Of Zandri: They say that there is a god worshipped by the dead, itself a part of a dead pantheon, deep in the sands of decrepit Nehekhara. A decayed land, ruled by the Tomb Kings. In the distant past, the warriors of Morr attempted to bring the unliving kingdoms to the dust they should be, but in truth failed despite many successes in their crusade. From the forlorn port-city of Zandri, where none but the dead dare walk, came a terrible fleet crewed by the undead. Their banners and sails were painted with liquid gold, their banners thick sheets of the precious metal, all stamped and colored in that of a horrific vast vulture. And they brought ruin to the southern coastlands of the Old World. The blood-slick streets of Sartosa were practically drowned in the stuff, the plunder of a hundred and more pirate crews dragged onto the ships. Coastal settlements in the peninsula of the Border Princes were wiped out entirely. But worst, in the opinions of some, was Magritta, where the great majority of the Knights of Magritta remained until this year. The battle was fierce, the eternal lust for war and gold burning fiercely yet in the empty rib-cages of the Tomb King's servants. In the end, the battle was won by the living, but just barely. The Grandmaster Pietro Barbarossa offered to fight a duel to end a brutal stalemate, and was met in battle by a horrific abomination which identified itself as King Amenemhetum of Zandri. While Pietro lost, soul torn from his body and apparently devoured by a horrible casket which rose upon a swirling tide of bone, the Tomb King was said to laugh a laugh which chilled the hearts of all before declaring that the heroism displayed was enough to stay his incomparable wrath, the plunder secured enough…for now. The city was left in effective ruins, sacked, its riches stolen and many of its people taken, the undead fleet practically groaning under the weight of their plunder. All, apparently, in the glory of the Nehekharan vulture god. Damned undead! At the least, the most holy parts of Myrmidia's true home remained intact, albeit as terrible cost.
Vega Unveiled: The story of the Vega Siblings is a tragic one, this is known to all who kept an eye on the events in Estalia. But with the marriage of Lucrezia Vega to that of the Merchant Prince Acciai of Miragliano, many wondered how it was that two hot-blooded individuals could not have had a child before now. Well, it seems that such a question was answered this year at a wondrous unveiling of artwork and sculpture designed and in many cases personally created by their previously hidden daughter Carmen, who as a result of the gala this year is already being heralded throughout the lands of Tilea and Estalia as an artistic prodigy. She seems to have none of the martial ability of her parents, but unlike the idiotic northerners, is a worshipper of Myrmidia's aspect of the Goddess of Fine Arts. It is a welcome salve for the wounds suffered by her mother and father, pure and untainted aspects of Vega and Acciai siblings alike captured in painted marble. Lady Carmen is, by all accounts, a precocious young girl, yet her artistic credentials are impossible to deny as she painted a great mural of the party itself as it was ongoing, helped only in servants carrying her paints and tools, upon one of the walls of the gallery. The event was even attended by the famous Dragon Prince of Tilea, though he only deigned to drink and eat upon foodstuffs purchased at great cost from Ulthuan and brought back to the city of Miragliano.
Stirland Stirs: Sylvania is seemingly broken from the grip of the undead, forever hopefully. But Stirland will not stand idle in this. They have advanced their armed forces into thorough patrolling efforts through their newly taken territory, while paving large roads throughout the accursed lands, cutting down and burning away the still tainted underbrush from them so that visibility is extremely increased lest beast, outlaw, or worse attempts to bar the way. One of the greatest nexus points is the shattered ruin of Castle Drakenhof, its depths excised like pus from a wound before being filled in by Jade Wizards and dwarf runesmiths, its foundation burnt thrice over and then consecrated by the Ar-Ulric, Grand Theogonist, and two Arch-Lectors, along with high priests and priestesses of all the good Gods of the Empire. It is there that the grand monument remains, of Ulric and Sigmar standing together, a smaller portion dedicated to the invaluable aid of Ostland's Urgdug Greatbellow. The new settlement, known now as Lichtheim, is now under the direct auspices of Stirland properly, a road being paved to and from there, connecting to the old dwarf roads, which are themselves seeing refurbishment by the dawi of Zhufbar now that the lands are comparably clearer than they have been in quite some time. There is even a Wizard Tower of the Light College within Lichtheim, but none known precisely where the rumored compound resides within the barony, the one which holds members from Jade, Amethyst, and Light Colleges together. Nor where the Amber Brotherhood is supposed to have set up. Yet perhaps nowhere else save Altdorf might one be exposed to the workings of the Imperial Wizards as they do their best to ensure the lands are kept from roiling with dark magic ever again.
Sea of Claws Report – 2333: There were no beasts within the Sea of Claws this year – only monsters who walked on two legs. Raids from both Norscans and what can only be druchii occurred this year, stretching from the coasts of Kislev to those of Nordland. Unlike last year, the battles which did occur between the forces of Ostland and those of the enemy were persecuted with more success. No ships were lost, though casualties are unavoidable. While the settlements of Ostland were kept safe this year, with the blood, sweat, and tears of the 3
rd Imperial Navy, our neighbors were not nearly as well-kept. Kislev lost a handful of military patrol ships, as well as a number of ships dedicated to fishing operations. Nordland, on the other hand, nearly suffered a direct assault on their capital of Manannsheim. While it was fought off before any Norscans could actually come close, others were not nearly so safe. Smaller villages were sacked in their entirety, though whether or not it was by the hands of druchii or Norscans is unknown, there being no survivors to tell the tale. All in all, a year of disfavor by the God of the Storm and Seas, for all but Ostland. His favor his mercurial, after all, and none would say otherwise considering last year.
Ostland High Success, Overall Order Failures (Minor Kislev/Major Nordland)
Kislev Rumor Mill
Fissures In The Legion: The Gryphon Legion is the greatest assortment of cavalry forces in the whole of the Old World! Their mercenary detachments have fought from Troll Country to Araby, and have found victory in every nation of man hence. Some have even found their way along the Silk Road to Cathay and back, though none have journeyed so in a handful of generations. But ever since the bitch Tzarina drew them back from all over, forced them into her precious 'Grand Army', they have chafed at her rule. An independent organization made up of nobility and truly worthy commoner alike, Ungol or Gospodar or even some of the lesser tribes such as the Dolgan, bound now practically in chains! This latest insult was too far, the creation of some supposed 'elite' amongst the elite, the Icewings, a detachment of Winged Lancers with their wings 'feathers' forged from magically crafted ice, is just one more insult – selected by none other than the Tzarina herself. True sons of Kislev who have proudly worn the Gryphon Legion name are leaving her service even now, stripping themselves of the title yet carrying their armors and weapons – heading straight towards Praag and other positions which strongly support the Bohka. For now, the Tzarina has not yet seen fit to try and repeat her disgusting and abhorrent measures in Erengrad for control, some small thread of Kislev remaining in her despite everything it seems.
The Tzarina's Anchorages: A significant amount of funds were clearly allocated to rebuilding the fleet this year, channeled not just into ships meant for defensive purposes up and down the shoreline, but for more financially viable reasons as well. Ships for fishing have been built, along with those ships meant to protect them. Anchorages up and down the coast have been refurbished and expanded further, allowing more ships to rest in man-made safety. It took a considerable amount of slaves to carve out such things from the icy rock and cold sands, but it was well worth the effort. The groaning docks of Erengrad, which often are frozen for six months out of the year, have had their load lessened by a good number of their ships head to somewhat more southern climes along the coast, each staffed with small teams of Widow Priestesses, ready to wield their powers over ice to shatter and break what builds up and thus allow ships safe harbor when arriving and departing – yet protected by that same ice in the interim. Unfortunately, little of this aided the ships already out at sea this year, for vicious raids along the seas occurred, survivors speaking of ships like daggers in the night when not speaking of Norscan longships. Even more funds will have to be put towards recovery of the naval forces of the nation – funds we would not have needed to spend if our ships had not stolen from us and returned broken by the Tzarina. She is like a child breaking toys and demanding new ones!
Salyaza Romanov: It was a foregone conclusion that the Tzarina's pious and noble children would be chosen by the Gods. Ursun. Dazh. Tor. And now, finally, Salyak, no less important. In some cases, perhaps even more so. She raises the warriors, aids the children to grow strong against the harshness of The Widow's touch, and helps provide some comfort to those who fight in the name of Kislev. She is the Goddess of common sense and sound care, of healing and comfort to those who can benefit from it. A former High Priestess of the Widow – regardless of how short the timeframe of such a position was – Natasha Romanov, first daughter of the Tzarina, has been recognized by her brothers, her mother, as well as surprisingly a number of Hags to be the Salyaza, Chosen of the Daughter. It is only fitting, after all, for Natasha Romanov – not to be confused with her namesake to our south in Ostland – has ever been a most motherly figure. Kind but firm, strong in her connection to The Land and our gods. The Matron herself has shown great humbleness in her position. Truly, she was blessed by the appearance of two white hawks of Kislev arriving out of the snows in the winter to her home this year, where they recovered and later were released into the spring. The next day, a great flock shown itself over Erengrad, practically blocking out the sun before disappearing into the The Land. The fact that the native white hawk of Kislev does not traditionally form such gatherings is being seen as a great sign of favor. And an entirely divinely granted one! Don't let those Bohka botherers fool you. The amount of effort and money to somehow gather up a flock, release them, and have the Salyaza treat two of their brethren, then have them all released the day after without
someone noticing would be absurd! The Tzarina has better things to do in Erengrad than that, just look out at the ships being built! Heretical thoughts, those!
Karaz Ankor Rumor Mill
Danger From Below: While the High King keeps the Great Throng mustered at the Everpeak, the eternal enemies of the dawi have grown bold. Night goblin and skaven assaults are up across almost all the holds of the Grey and Black Mountains, a few mines and distant breweries lost with their weary survivors barely making their way to safety. In some cases, there are no survivors at all. Many thanes and lords have begged leave from the High King to return to their homes and strike out these new grudges writ into the books of their clans. All promise to return as soon as they are able, but none can truly say how long it may take. Still, only a fool would deny the dawi the ability to defend their homes. As such, many clan-throngs speedily departed west from the Great Throng, heading back to Karak Norn, Karak Izor, Karak Azgaraz, and more. By now, the Great Throng has been reduced to half of its number not by combat but by these departures. Those that still reside at the Everpeak remain grimly committed…for now. Some are agitating that the remaining members of the throng simply advance south, bring the battle to the greenskins, but these are but beardlings whose foolishness could see the whole of the throng surrounded, ambushed, or destroyed by trying to charge in heedlessly into the the heart of the enemy territory.
Karak Ungor Grows: One of the most vital of things to a Karak is population. And while many of clans have joined in the reclaimed great hold, or amongst the various smaller holds, mines, smithies, and so on along the northern World's Edge Mountains ranging back towards Karak Kadrin, yet more have elected to come this year to rest and take up the tragically lost places of clans rendered extinct since the Time of Woes. Amongst these were two substantially scattered clans from across the Karaz Ankor in the form of the Stoneplaits and the Goldseekers, the former numbering a bare few hundred but many dour longbeards, while the latter is a lesser known clan famous for their remarkably mining abilities in locating new veins. Both were scattered clans, but now joined together in totality within the caverns of Karak Ungor. It will take many to return Karak Ungor to its former glory, but with every stout dawi that comes out of the cold and joins in, that day comes ever closer. Some have noted that it may seem strange that a number of the so-called 'Imperial Dwarfs' are beginning to immigrate back to their true homes in the mountains, and look down on them. Not so the Silent Stonehammer, or his fiery daughter Kazul. They accept these dwarfs, painfully unfamiliar and untaught the necessary traditions, or previously having despaired at the Karaz Ankor ever returning to its former glory, who work now as subjects of the delving hold. Joining this is the birth of a new child, ensuring the continuation of the Stonehammer line, a prince to bear the name and legacy of his clan into the future.
Worrisome Migrations From South: There are greenskins in the Southlands. Everyone knows this. But for the most part, they are of the savage variety. But something appears to have stirred them up, possibly something about the greenskins currently rampaging through the Bonelands and beyond have drawn them there. For this year over ten thousand savage orcs along with unknown numbers of goblins, squigs, and other such beasts came trundling north along the World's Edge Mountains. Karak Azgal slammed its gates shut, barring the way as best they can, while Karak Azul prepared to fight. Though the first conflicts were largely skirmishes, rangers doing what they can to slow the horde, far too many survived to charge onwards. A battle between the throngs of the two southern holds and this WAAAGH!! seems inevitable, for more greenskins were sighted by gyrocopter scouts rampaging north along the range behind the initial group. Neither King Kazador or King Balgor have requested aid, stubbornly refusing to pull yet more strength away from the Great Throng. Instead they prepare their own throngs and defenses. At the least, the skaven in the region appear to have remained shallow in numbers, allowing more forces to be properly assembled, despite skaven resurgences elsewhere.
