TEXT: ®
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  2
  Credits
  WARMACHINE  
  created by
  Matthew D. Wilson
  Project Director
  Bryan Cutler
  Game Design
  Matthew D. Wilson
  Lead Designer
  Jason Soles
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  David Carl 
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  Douglas Seacat
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  & Layout
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  Chris Walton
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  Andrea Uderzo
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  3
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  First digital edition: April 2013.
  WARMACHINE: Colossals (digital version) . . . . . . ISBN: 978-1-939480-28-6 . . . . . . . . . . .PIP 1049e
  table of Contents
  In The DarkesT Place: ParT One  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .4
  cOlOssal rules  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 20
  unbOunD rules  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 24
  Theme FOrces  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 49
  cygnar  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .52
  PrOTecTOraTe OF menOTh  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 66
  khaDOr  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 78
  cryx  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 90
  reTrIbuTIOn OF scyrah .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  . 104
  mercenarIes  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .116
  mODel gallery  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .130
  PaInTIng cOlOssals  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  138
  In The DarkesT Place: ParT TwO  .  .  .  .  .  .  .142
  unbOunD rules aPPenDIx  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .156
  At Privateer Press, we firmly believe bigger is better—bigger 
  models, bigger games, and bigger stakes. For more than half 
  a decade we have been working on how and when to crank 
  the dial up to 11, and finally the time is right. WARMACHINE: 
  Colossals is here. It’s time to go big. 
  Easily the most notable additions to the game are the massive 
  colossals themselves. These warjacks are awesome, not only 
  in scale but also in tabletop might. Each is a mobile weapons 
  platform bristling with destructive power that commands 
  respect and attention. With thick armor and double-sized 
  damage grids, the colossals are able to endure punishment that 
  could reduce entire battlegroups to wreck markers. They can 
  also perform two exciting new power attacks befitting their 
  impact on the game: power strike and sweep. To say they have 
  a major presence on the table would be an understatement.
  Colossals kick up the intensity in games of any size, but they 
  truly begin to feel epic when fielded in large-scale battles 
  of 150 points or more. WARMACHINE players have been 
  clamoring for large-scale game rules, and Unbound makes 
  playing games of this size easier and more dynamic than ever 
  before. Now you can experience firsthand what it is like to 
  command the earth-shaking armies of the Iron Kingdoms.
  To lead these giant monstrosities of robot destruction and the 
  massive forces supporting them onto the fields of battle, Colossals 
  features six warcasters. Four of our most iconic characters have 
  gone epic a second time to reflect how the twists and turns of 
  the evolving story have shaped them. We are also excited to 
  unveil a third Rhulic warcaster, enabling Rhulic armies to field 
  three-warcaster armies in Unbound games. 
  Battles of this massive scale require stout and decisive 
  leadership, and these warcasters fit the bill. They are going to 
  need all their resolve and every technological advantage they 
  can innovate as Cryx raises the stakes. The various lich lords 
  are on the move as the Nightmare Empire prepares to unleash 
  the once-hidden might of its army. So dire is their situation that 
  even long-time enemies have entered into an uneasy alliance, 
  putting aside their animosity to prevent western Immoren 
  from being transformed into a blighted wasteland.
  Colossals is a project that has fueled a great deal of excitement 
  at Privateer. The colossals have been in various forms of 
  development since well before Mk II, and we are thrilled 
  to see them finally become a reality. With these giant death-
  dealing mountains of steel and steam and the Unbound rules 
  for epic-sized battles, you have the tools to translate the 
  escalating scale of the Iron Kingdoms setting to your tabletop.
  Now take to the field and crush your enemy beneath your 
  colossal might!
  braCe Yourself for 
  full-sCale Warfare!
  
  4
  Point bourne, late fall 608 ar
  Skarre leapt down from the low wall to land behind the 
  bulky Man-O-War soldier, who whirled to face her only 
  to be knocked off his feet as her horns smashed into his 
  helmet. He flew to the ground with a crash of heavy armor 
  hitting cobblestones. The Khadoran kept a strong grip on 
  his ice maul but was too slow to defend himself when the 
  satyxis queen drove Takkaryx through his breastplate and 
  into his heart. 
  Satyxis blood witches charged from the shadowed alleyway 
  to blindside the other Man-O-War corpsmen with their 
  sharpened blades, turning the blood of their own bodies 
  against the enemy as the air filled with a red mist. Skarre’s 
  Harrower emerged from behind the Winter Guard riflemen, 
  scything through several with a single sweep of its claw. 
  Those remaining fled with shocked looks, staggering 
  toward the cover of a half-shattered wall. Skarre lazily lifted 
  her hand cannon, fired a booming shot into the back of one, 
  and watched him stagger another two steps and collapse in 
  a heap. The Harrower fired a pulsing shot of necromantic 
  darkness to explode into several more, while her satyxis 
  raiders and blood witches finished off the rest of the ill-
  fated expedition. 
  She sighed in a dissatisfied way, taking none of the 
  delight from this clash that the rest of the satyxis enjoyed. 
  She strode toward the figure watching from the nearby 
  darkness and leaning upon a lengthy and distinct polearm, 
  once the weapon of a lich lord. The sight of that weapon in 
  Deneghra’s hands always prompted fresh indignation from 
  Skarre—it was a reminder of the treachery of the woman 
  and her master, Asphyxious. “’Ardly a proper battle,” she 
  snarled. “Ye ought purge the Khadorans from their warren 
  and be done with ’em.”
  Deneghra stepped forward and shook her head, an insincere 
  smile visible below the masked helmet. “No need to expend 
  unnecessary resources. You’ll want to save your strength for 
  when Venethrax arrives with his prize.”
  “I need no reminder of my duty from the likes of ye,” 
  Skarre snapped. “Were it not for Lord Terminus’ orders, 
  I’d not be here. Don’t be thinking I’ll dance at yer whim. 
  Where be Lich Lord Venethrax anyhow? I would like to get 
  back to sea.”
  “Lord Asphyxious has informed me Venethrax is delayed,” 
  Deneghra said with a frown. “The tunnels he used to 
  expedite his journey collapsed, taking with them a sizable 
  portion of his escort and damaging the athanc transport. He 
  has continued overland. It is unfortunate; I am weary of this 
  city and would prefer to be gone as well.”
  in the darkest PlaCe
  “The screams do be tiresome,” Skarre agreed. Point Bourne 
  was largely theirs, despite the Khadorans and Cygnarans 
  hunkered down in their respective neighborhoods. 
  Asphyxious had begun the systematic purging of its 
  inhabitants, an operation conducted with an odd mix of 
  brutal efficiency and apparent caprice; Skarre could see no 
  pattern to how he was selecting areas to target. There were 
  more people here than could easily be turned into thralls, 
  even with the necrosurgeons and necrotechs working 
  tirelessly. Skarre suspected they had long since filled every 
  soul cage they had. “All the more reason for taking the fight 
  to the Khadorans and rooting ’em out for good.”
  “They are penned in where we can keep an eye on them, so 
  leave them be for now. My only interest is in stopping those 
  they keep sending forth to interfere with our operations.” 
  Deneghra looked down at a Winter Guardsman who 
  groaned as he bled out. “Strange they can’t seem to help 
  themselves. It’s not their own citizens being slaughtered.”
  “What about the Cygnarans up behind their walls?” Skarre 
  jerked her chin vaguely in the direction of the other side of 
  town. Both Cygnar and Khador had periodically sent small 
  patrols out into the city to test the Cryxian defenses and try 
  to come to the aid of the remaining citizens. “Gun mages 
  over there shot up an ogrun boarding party. My others want 
  a little payback.”
  “Unless you’re eager to eat a sniper’s bullet, stay away from 
  them,” Deneghra said with a sharper tone. “It’s your own 
  fault for looking for plunder where we told you not to go.”
  Skarre’s eyes narrowed. “Seems time I talked to 
  Asphyxious. Would like to give ’im a piece of my mind 
  about this whole raid.”
  Deneghra’s voice was hard. “I speak for Lich Lord 
  Asphyxious. Do not provoke either the Khadorans or the 
  Cygnarans. Not until I tell you otherwise. You may be here 
  on Terminus’ orders, but so long as you are in this city, you 
  fall under Asphyxious’ dominion and will do as told.”
  Skarre took some satisfaction in having gotten under the 
  wraith witch’s skin. “So ye keep telling me. If ye don’t want 
  my advice, we’ll call it a day. I’ll be back by the river should 
  ye have need of me. Send a messenger when Venethrax 
  arrives.” She turned and walked away, pretending not to 
  hear Deneghra’s parting rejoinder. Her satyxis followed 
  swiftly behind her.
  rhYdden in llael
  Grand Exemplar Kreoss looked out across the roiling horde 
  of mechanithralls beyond a bristling wall of swords, spears, 
  and halberds. Around him a mingled army of Steelheads 
  Part one
  
  5
  with the precision of those well versed in the task. Kreoss 
  focused his attacks on the few bonejacks mixed in with the 
  lesser Cryxian troops, channeling his will into Justifier to 
  bolster each skewering thrust. A dozen yards away, Fire of 
  Salvation swung its mace in wide, sweeping arcs at Kreoss’ 
  mental urging, swiftly reducing a dozen thralls to burnt 
  flesh and charred mechanika.
  The charge ended abruptly, and once more the Cryxian 
  army pulled back, leaving hundreds of motionless 
  mechanithralls across the ground. It looked to Kreoss like 
  Terminus was probing their lines for a weak point where 
  a concerted strike would have the best chance of breaking 
  through. Looking to the north, he saw that the far end of 
  the Cryxian line had been breached by several hundred 
  mounted Exemplar vengers, who had smashed through 
  with lances and then entered the fray with drawn swords 
  to clear their way. 
  Their presence could mean only one thing: his message 
  requesting urgent reinforcement had reached the sizable 
  cavalry force stationed to secure a recently converted 
  Menite community to the northwest of Rhydden. 
  The ranking venger seneschal rode up, quickly dismounted, 
  and dropped to a knee at Kreoss’ feet. “Grand Exemplar,” 
  the man said. “We rode straight here when we received 
  your orders.”
  “Rise,” Kreoss commanded. “How many are you?”
  “Three hundred,” the seneschal replied as he stood.
  Kreoss glanced to the east, where Captain Damiano and 
  the bulk of the Steelhead halberdiers and riflemen formed 
  the iron center of Rhydden’s defensive line. He then looked 
  back at the gathered vengers and noticed they had brought 
  a thick-bodied Khadoran destrier, huge and imposing in 
  its heavy armor. Strapped to its sides were his shield and 
  cavalry spear, Conviction.
  “I see you brought my mount, as I required. You have 
  done well,” Kreoss said. The seneschal inclined his head 
  and gestured for the great horse to be brought forth. 
  Kreoss touched Agon briefly along the neck, and the 
  steed whickered in recognition. The grand exemplar 
  mounted and raised his voice to the others. “Pull back to 
  Rhydden!”
  and his own troops stood against the tide of undead. The 
  current alliance was one of necessity forced upon him and 
  the mercenary captain Amador Damiano. Kreoss had come 
  to Rhydden to ensure the new temples and the converted 
  Menites among the populace were protected from the 
  oncoming Cryxian menace. Damiano and his Steelheads 
  had been hired to safeguard the city from all threats—
  among which they apparently counted Kreoss’ army. 
  After the mercenaries had proven unwilling to allow him 
  access to the city, Kreoss had reluctantly entered battle 
  with Captain Damiano and the defenders of Rhydden, 
  but the arrival of Lich Lord Terminus and a monstrous 
  host of undead had cut the fighting short. Faced with the 
  greater threat, Kreoss and Damiano had ended their own 
  conflict to stand together against the lich lord. Together 
  they had blunted the impact of the first Cryxian advance, 
  but at a heavy toll. 
  Kreoss had expected the dead to simply overwhelm 
  them with a crushing onslaught of numbers. He had 
  committed to the battle knowing very well it might be his 
  last. Yet Terminus had broken off the initial attack and 
  regrouped, a tactic entirely at odds with what they had 
  come to expect from Cryx—and Terminus’ reputation. 
  Kreoss had taken advantage of the short reprieve to 
  send a messenger toward the nearest encampment. Two 
  nightmarish days of intermittent battle had followed, 
  with the undead attacking in staggered waves for hours 
  at a time. Although his forces had kept the enemy outside 
  Rhydden itself, the men were exhausted and fewer in 
  number with every clash. It was clear to Kreoss that 
  unless he could find a way to change the dynamic of this 
  battle, their defeat was inevitable.
  The Steelheads and Exemplars braced for another charge 
  from the massed mechanithralls. Overhead, Kreoss heard 
  Rhydden’s battlement cannons thunderously discharge, 
  sending their projectiles shrieking into the Cryxians. Each 
  blast destroyed dozens of undead in a plume of dirt, smoke, 
  and broken bodies, but there were always more advancing. 
  Kreoss ordered Fire of Salvation forward. The men in 
  front of the ’jack moved aside to allow it room to swing its 
  great flaming mace. Kreoss, too, moved forward, taking a 
  position among several Exemplar knights. Under his breath 
  he offered a silent prayer to Menoth, using the mantra to 
  focus his will and make it tangible. Holy fire bloomed to 
  life around him, licking along the edges of the Exemplar 
  relic blades. 
  The undead rushed forward, heedless of the swords and 
  halberds arrayed against them. They struck the Exemplar 
  and Steelhead line, driving it back a step, but failed to gain 
  appreciable ground. Then the tide of battle changed, and 
  the defenders pushed back, hacking down mechanithralls 
  eaCh blast destroYed 
  dozens of undead in a 
  Plume of dirt, smoke,  
  and broken bodies.
  
  6
   
  Rhydden’s defenders had opened the gates to allow 
  Kreoss’ and Damiano’s forces behind the relative safety of 
  the walls again. Cannon crews and riflemen along the 
  battlements took shots of opportunity on any enemy that 
  came too close, although the dead too had largely pulled 
  back. The Cryxians still seemed reluctant to challenge the 
  walls of the city. As grateful as he was for their restraint, 
  Kreoss knew it couldn’t last, and the town lacked the 
  firepower to drive the dead away if they attacked in full 
  force. It was almost as though Terminus were toying with 
  them, allowing them to feel the despair of being trapped—
  or else withholding the deathblow deliberately for some 
  sinister purpose. He had no desire to leave his fate in the 
  hands of the Cryxian lich lord. Their only hope to avoid a 
  slow and withering defeat was to mount an offensive. He 
  laid out his thoughts succinctly.
  “It’s a bold plan. I’ll give you that,” Captain Damiano said, 
  shaking his head. “But blind faith is not a good replacement 
  for common sense.”
  Kreoss gritted his teeth behind his mask. Despite the 
  mercenary captain’s competence on the battlefield, he found 
  the man’s irreverence profoundly irritating. They were 
  hardly equals. Nevertheless, Kreoss had need of these men, 
  and therefore he indulged them with a brief explanation, “If 
  we simply stand here, we will be overrun.”
  “And if you go gallivanting off with your cavalry, we’ll be 
  overrun even sooner,” Damiano shot back. “We need that 
  heavy horse here to bolster our line.” 
  “Bolstering a line would be an improper use of cavalry 
  against such numbers, as I would expect a veteran captain 
  to understand,” Kreoss said with calm intensity. “My plan 
  will make far better use of them. We will use our speed to 
  get behind them.” 
  “The grand exemplar is right, sir,” a Steelhead lieutenant 
  standing next to Damiano said. This was Damiano’s 
  adjutant Lorio Jaspar, a man who seemed possessed 
  of more wisdom and patience than his commander. 
  “Remember the Idrians north of Tower Judgment?”
  Damiano nodded. “I do, but that was a bit different,” he 
  said. “We had Major Laddermore and her Storm Lances 
  to back us up. Plus, that was a few hundred Idrians, not a 
  horde of walking corpses led by a millennia-old warcaster.” 
  “But the idea is the same,” Lorio replied. “Box them in, 
  don’t allow them time to regroup or react, then crush them 
  despite their numerical advantage.” 
  Damiano seemed unconvinced—likely simple pigheadedness, 
  Kreoss expected, resistance to a plan not of his own design. It 
  did not matter. “Captain, this is not a debate. I am telling you 
  what I intend to do. Prepare your men. The dead will not wait.”
  Damiano grimaced. “We’ll do our part. But we’ll have to 
  stretch our lines thin, and if you fail, they’ll break us and be 
  inside Rhydden by nightfall.” 
  “I will not fail,” Kreoss said. 
  Kreoss rode at the head of a long column of vengers, with 
  the line of armored horses and riders flowing behind him 
  like a great steel serpent. He’d left Rhydden soon after 
  meeting with Captain Damiano, leading his knights north 
  into the foothills that ringed the small valley where the 
  Llaelese city rested. They’d worked their way south, skirting 
  the city and finally exiting the hills directly behind the 
  Cryxian force. As Resistance scouts had surmised, the 
  Cryxians had no Soulhunters or other swift forces to screen 
  their perimeter or intercept incoming cavalry.
  When they were a mile or so away from the enemy, Kreoss 
  reigned to a halt and raised his spear, signaling the vengers 
  to form ranks around him. They quickly moved into 
  position, creating a wide, shallow wedge of armored horses 
  and men with the grand exemplar at its head. Kreoss could 
  see that the mercenary captain had kept to his part of the 
  plan. A thin line of Menite and Steelhead troops surrounded 
  the Cryxian host on three sides, pushing the enemy closer 
  together, which would allow his own comparatively smaller 
  force to drive them forward.
  Kreoss brought Conviction down and urged his horse into a 
  slow trot. Behind him the vengers followed suit. They were 
  close enough now that he could pick out individual shapes 
  in the mass ahead. He saw primarily mechanithralls, but 
  there were a number of helljacks and bonejacks within the 
  Cryxian ranks. Terminus was likely holding those in reserve 
  to lay siege to Rhydden once the outer defenders fell.
  Seeing them approach, the Cryxian army quickly made 
  preparations to meet the cavalry. The majority of the 
  helljacks were pushed to the rear of the army, forming a 
  ragged line of towering black shapes. There was no sign 
  of Terminus. Instead, a number of strange, multi-armed 
  constructs of bone and steel floating behind the helljacks 
  seemed to be directing their actions.
  Kreoss lowered Conviction into position for a charge, 
  resting the butt of the heavy spear against his saddle to 
  brace it. He leaned forward, pushed his feet tight against 
  the stirrups, and drew his shield tight to his body. Trained 
  for battle, Agon responded to these subtle movements and 
  broke into a gallop. Behind Kreoss his vengers spurred their 
  horses to match his pace. 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  
  7
  He charged directly at the center of the 
  helljack line. Seconds before impact, he 
  unleashed his will and faith in a wave 
  of holy power. He felt the dark presence 
  of enemy sorcery crumble beneath the 
  sacred onslaught, and the cascade of 
  power coursing through him gave his 
  mind superior concentration and force. 
  A litany of prayers tumbled from his 
  lips, imbuing the lances of the vengers 
  beside him with unerring accuracy and 
  limning their steel tips with fire.
  They hit the Cryxian line like the 
  fist of Menoth. Conviction’s point 
  clipped the carapace of the first 
  Slayer in Kreoss’ path, spinning the 
  necromechanikal construct around 
  and into the charging vengers behind 
  him. Strikes from two more lances 
  reduced it to burning scrap. 
  Empowered by his blessings and 
  skilled at estimating the foe, they 
  struck the other helljacks at the 
  fore of the line, delivering enough 
  punishment to shatter them one 
  after the next. Once past these and 
  into the main body of the Cryxian 
  army, Kreoss shortened his grip on 
  Conviction, allowing him to thrust 
  with the mighty spear. The vengers 
  abandoned their lances and drew 
  the long swords hanging from their 
  saddles. They continued their charge, 
  unslowed by the lesser Cryxian troops 
  massed ahead of them. Kreoss felled every mechanithrall 
  he could reach with Conviction and reduced bonejacks to 
  dust with blasts of magical force.
  Unable to stand against the charging vengers, the undead 
  horde showed typical mindlessness at the new threat, 
  clumping together and pushing chaotically against their 
  fellows. Kreoss and his vengers slowed and fanned out, 
  pressing the Cryxian army into itself with steel and 
  horseflesh. As Kreoss had anticipated, there were too few 
  intelligent masters to direct so many. Terminus’ attention 
  seemed focused at the vanguard.
  Kreoss was driving back toward the gates of Rhydden, 
  where Damiano and the bulk of his Steelheads waited. 
  The rest of the army defending the city had spread out 
  considerably. Together with Kreoss’ charging cavalry, the 
  Steelheads and Menites were pushing the Cryxians into a 
  tightly compacted mass. 
  His plan was working, and Kreoss allowed himself a 
  moment’s satisfaction. Then a great winged shadow passed 
  overhead and its fleeting darkness sent a horrid chill 
  through his body. Terminus had joined the battle. 
  Damiano stood behind the triple row of halberdiers and 
  riflemen positioned in front of Rhydden’s gates. Rocinante 
  towered next to him, periodically firing its cannon over 
  the Steelhead lines and into the Cryxians beyond. The 
  battle had reached a fevered pitch, and it was clear Kreoss 
  had begun his attack. The ranks of mechanithralls were 
  becoming tighter and tighter, denying them sufficient 
  space to dodge Steelhead halberds and thus making them 
  easier to destroy.
  It wasn’t over yet. Damiano cursed under his breath as 
  the hellish, smoke-shrouded form of Lich Lord Terminus 
  
  8
  came looming through the air from the south. The iron lich 
  was not alone. Four small dark shapes flew beside him—
  Scavengers, bonejacks kept aloft more by magic than by 
  their tattered, leathery wings. Terminus landed almost 
  on top of the first rank of Steelhead halberdiers, loosing 
  a jet of blistering green flame from his skeletal jaws. The 
  Steelheads caught in the blast died instantly, leaving 
  behind charred, withered shapes that hardly resembled 
  the corpses of men. With each swipe of Terminus’ lengthy 
  sword or razor-taloned claw more men died, and their 
  souls were ripped from their bodies to feed the unholy 
  hunger of the Cryxian lord. Terminus grew stronger with 
  each soul, his sword strokes faster and more accurate, and 
  his dire spells struck down Steelheads with hellfire and 
  bolts of necrotic energy.
  The Scavengers flew directly at Damiano and Rocinante. 
  Damiano urged the big warjack to discharge its cannon, 
  putting his will into the shot. The cannonball struck one 
  of the bonejacks in midair, and it fell from the sky in a 
  shower of debris.
  “Take them,” Damiano said aloud, urging Rocinante to 
  engage the remaining bonejacks. He then drew his hand 
  cannon Judgment and moved toward Terminus, trying to 
  ignore the rising dread he felt as he neared the iron lich. 
  Behind him, Rocinante brought its battle blade to bear on 
  the remaining Scavengers, and he felt the warjack cut one in 
  half with a brutal overhand strike.
  The Steelheads that had survived Terminus’ initial attack 
  were bravely facing down the iron lich, but their halberds 
  glanced off his armor, and he continued to reap death and 
  feast on souls.
  Damiano aimed carefully and fired Judgment again. The 
  heavy lead ball struck Terminus’ armored skull with a clang, 
  causing the iron lich to stumble back a step. The momentary 
  reprieve granted his Steelheads a few precious seconds to 
  reform their ranks.
  “Steelheads! To me!” Damiano screamed when he reached 
  the line. In response, the halberdiers nearest the iron 
  lich pulled back and gathered around their commander, 
  pressing tightly together to form a mobile hedge of halberd 
  spikes with Damiano at the center.
  “Push!” Damiano shouted, harnessing his sorcerous ability 
  to lend strength and determination to the Steelheads around 
  him. The halberdiers advanced, thrusting at Terminus 
  as a single unit. Individually, a Steelhead halberd posed 
  little threat to the iron lich, but a dozen thrusting together 
  and bolstered by Damiano’s magic was a different matter 
  entirely. Multiple halberd spikes struck Terminus’ armor, 
  driving the iron lich back a few steps and into a wall of 
  mechanithralls coming from the other direction. The 
  Cryxian troops flowed around their master, engulfing him. 
  Behind the onrush of mechanithralls Damiano could see a 
  line of vengers advancing inexorably, pushing the undead 
  toward the walls of Rhydden. 
  The Cryxian troops were now so tightly compacted they 
  could hardly move, and Damiano could see Steelheads and 
  Exemplars cutting them down at will. Terminus had become 
  swamped by his own troops, unable to reach his enemy. 
  With a soul-curdling screech of rage, the iron lich ripped 
  his massive sword through the mechanithralls around him, 
  cutting them down in a wide swathe. 
  Terminus leveled his sword at Damiano, and the blazing 
  green fire burning in the empty sockets of his iron skull 
  pulsed with unbearable brightness. The iron lich leapt 
  into the air, his wings stirring up a whirlwind of dirt and 
  battlefield debris and casting a blanketing shadow across the 
  battlefield. Terminus retreated over his swiftly dwindling 
  army before disappearing to the south.
  Point bourne, West Gate
  Supreme Kommandant Irusk directed his Destroyers to 
  obliterate the last of the sizable brick building nearest the 
  fortified western gatehouse region they had occupied and 
  reinforced. They now had a wide, clear lane around their 
  position, making it impossible for any corporeal Cryxian 
  force to approach them unobserved. 
  Snipers and riflemen were perched anywhere they could 
  fit along the walls, with mortar and field guns situated 
  at strategic positions. Spotters in the highest remaining 
  towers with telescopes yelled down directions for those 
  sending high-arcing mortar fire into the alleys and streets 
  beyond their open firing lanes. Every access route to the 
  region was faced by a formidable array of warjacks and 
  Man-O-War, and Greylords stood ready to reinforce the 
  newly erected mystical barriers keeping the incorporeal 
  dead at bay. Since clearing a perimeter, things had been 
  eerily quiet in the immediate vicinity. Once the sounds 
  of explosive blasts and falling stone had faded, though, 
  the distant sounds of human misery and a city being torn 
  apart by horrors returned. 
  Irusk spotted several of his men rushing back to their 
  position and moved his Devastators aside to let them pass. 
  They were Winter Guardsmen, several injured and others 
  simply broken, the last of a group that had volunteered 
  to advance on the nearest Cryxians collecting civilians 
  for slaughter. Irusk had been persuaded to allow this 
  by one of his kovniks who felt the men needed to try to 
  do something against the barbarism taking place in the 
  streets of this enemy city. Four separate small efforts had 
  been mounted, but only two had managed to return with 
  civilians. Now several hundred refugees were taking 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  
  9
  precious space among the buildings garrisoning his men, 
  where they glared suspiciously at the Khadorans and 
  muttered curses about their liberators under their breath. 
  Irusk accepted this. 
  Their fortified position held, and Cryx seemed reluctant 
  to move against them, for now. But how long would this 
  last? They gained nothing by staying here except survival, 
  and Cryx conducted their depravities unchecked. Irusk had 
  long prided himself on his ability to see the path to victory, 
  but now he felt blind and deaf. Their capacity to gain useful 
  intelligence on the disposition of the enemy had diminished 
  to almost nothing. He felt conflicted in a way that was new 
  to him: he knew they must act, but all choices felt ruinous. 
  He heard footsteps behind him and knew from their distinct 
  weight and cadence it was Kommander Strasvite, his 
  subordinate who led the 4th Assault Legion.
  “Kommandant,” the approaching man began, “we must 
  reassess our position.” His tone suggested tremendous 
  frustration.
  “I agree absolutely, old friend,” Irusk said without turning 
  toward him. “I had just come to the same conclusion.” He 
  felt another pang of deep pain from his shoulder, where the 
  wound from the sniper’s shot still bled, despite bandaging. 
  He did not allow any sign of this to show on his face. The 
  hole in his warcaster armor had been sealed, and he knew 
  that considering their situation it would be easy for his men 
  to forget he had been struck, which suited him. Many bore 
  worse wounds.
  The kommander continued, “I think we have no choice 
  but to retreat from the city and make egress across the 
  countryside.” He indicated the barricaded gateway leading 
  to the western road from the city.
  “To what end, Kommander?” Irusk asked, his tone neutral.
  The man seemed nonplussed. “To evade the Cryx, return to 
  the north shore, and rejoin our forces in the Thornwood.”
  Irusk looked sidelong at him. “We are behind enemy 
  lines, Strasvite, on the wrong side of the Dragon’s Tongue. 
  There are no easy crossings. East is Stonebridge, Cygnar’s 
  strongest remaining northern fortress. Beyond that, 
  Corvis. We could go west, to be chased by both Cygnaran 
  and Ordic border patrols while Cryx harries us from the 
  rear. Otherwise you suggest the 4th Assault Legion and a 
  large portion of my army live off the land in unfamiliar and 
  unfriendly territory. If we take over Tarna, perhaps you 
  and I can learn how to wrap hooaga cigars. A profitable 
  trade, I hear.”
  Kommander Strasvite pulled himself up, his face 
  reddening. “Better to take our chances outside the city 
  than wait here for Cryx.”
  “A better way to die, without question. It may come to that. 
  But I have another idea.” He turned to face the kommander. 
  “A chance to strike a meaningful blow against the enemy—
  and perhaps live to serve the Motherland.”
  Whatever offense the kommander had taken at his 
  superior’s earlier words was transformed into tentative 
  hope. “You have a plan?”
  Irusk smiled grimly and said, “Less a plan than a desperate 
  contingency. The only one available to us. The thought 
  has been growing from the first time our men volunteered 
  to risk death on the chance of saving the civilians in this 
  accursed town.” Irusk spoke slowly, as if the words were 
  difficult to form. “We have common cause, rooted in the 
  simple kinship of life. Lest Cryx feast on us both, we must 
  enter into an alliance with Cygnar.”
  Kara Sloan’s body ached. She had gone without rest for 
  days, pacing the upper battlements of Point Bourne’s 
  military quarter. Long hours of standing absolutely still at 
  the best vantage points while staring fixedly through the 
  scope of her sniper rifle had begun to take their toll. There 
  had been little activity in the nearby streets, but occasionally 
  she spotted and targeted Cryxians trying to close on the 
  quarter unseen. She had also provided cover to several 
  retaliatory ranger expeditions into the nearest streets, until 
  the general had ordered such operations halted. She chafed 
  at the helpless feeling of waiting here while the citizens of 
  Point Bourne were mercilessly slaughtered. Reinforcements 
  were supposedly on the way from Stonebridge, and the 
  general did not wish to jeopardize their chances. Despite 
  having rescued several thousand people from the nearest 
  areas the morale of the soldiers was flagging, a situation 
  worsened by their rapidly diminishing food stores.
  She heard what sounded like gunfire or cannons from one of 
  the nearby streets. So far as she was aware, there should be 
  no Cygnaran patrols in that region. She wondered if some 
  reckless junior officer had decided to mount a rescue effort 
  despite the general’s orders. She scanned the approach of 
  Falls Road and saw nothing, then turned and crossed the 
  battlement to the main gateway, moving past a number of 
  soldiers on post with rifles ready. All were tense, having 
  onCe the sounds of exPlosive 
  blasts and fallinG stone had 
  faded, thouGh, the distant sounds 
  of human miserY and a CitY beinG 
  torn aPart bY horrors returned. 
  
  10
  heard the gunshots. She saw movement at the far end of 
  Academy Way, the wider approach to the main gate, and 
  once again brought her scope to her right eye. 
  Rather than the drab motley of fleeing Cygnaran civilians 
  she had expected, she was bewildered at the sight of 
  red, black, and gold armor. Adjusting the rotating lens, 
  she pulled the focus back to take in Khadorans rushing 
  swiftly toward the barricaded gates of the quarter. 
  Her pulse increased as she spotted the distinct form of 
  Supreme Kommandant Gurvaldt Irusk, shouting orders. 
  He raised his pistol and fired behind him, sending a 
  heavy bullet to impact a flying Scavenger that had been 
  swooping toward them. Additional Cryxians were closing 
  from behind. “Looks like your time is up,” she muttered 
  under her breath, feeling no sympathy for the enemy that 
  had brought this ruin on the city. Irusk’s path was easy 
  to follow now, and this time there were no Man-O-War 
  shocktroopers surrounding him with their impenetrable 
  shields. She aimed slightly ahead of his path, feeling a 
  moment of perfect tranquility, then held her breath and let 
  her finger begin to tighten on the trigger.
  The colonel in charge of the outer wall shouted, “Captain 
  Sloan, hold!” She almost squeezed anyway; the moment 
  was so close, and the shot would have been so clean. 
  Training and discipline froze her muscles. “They bear a flag 
  of truce—do not fire!”
  With a growl in her throat she looked through the scope 
  again and moved her focus to one of the massive brute thralls 
  rushing down the street toward the wounded Khadorans 
  falling behind the squad. Her rifle gave a loud report, and 
  a rune-scribed round took the creature’s head clean off. She 
  quickly reloaded, and her next shot shattered the skull of a 
  closing bonejack. The sharpshooters on the wall followed 
  suit, picking apart the Cryxian pursuit, and she urged her 
  nearest Defenders to add their fire. “Very well, Colonel,” 
  Sloan said in a resigned tone. “Open the portcullis and let’s 
  find out what they want.”
  Corvis
  When the official message sealed with the king’s signet 
  arrived, Sebastian Nemo was confined to a hospital bed. 
  His injuries had been tended by a veteran medic of the 
  First Army and then greatly diminished by the prayers of 
  a seasoned battle-chaplain of the Church of Morrow, but 
  they wanted him to rest. Still, the intruding emissary was 
  no ordinary military courier but a Stormguard major and 
  officer of the Royal Guard as well as a sworn and decorated 
  officer of the Cygnaran Royal Assembly. 
  Major Sterling was a man Nemo knew in passing from 
  previous visits to the court, a reliable man known to 
  King Leto personally. Nonetheless, each of them knew 
  commissions at this level were usually delivered by the 
  king personally or by the warmaster general in his stead. 
  The warmaster’s health had taken a bad turn, however, and 
  the situation in Corvis was too unstable to summon Nemo 
  to court, which meant promotion by proxy. 
  It seemed very strange to Nemo that he was being given 
  titles and praises while lying in a hospital bed after a failed 
  Cryxian assassination attempt. Furthermore, the city was 
  still besieged by Khador. He looked down at the pieces 
  of parchment, decorated with florid script and embossed 
  sigils. “Artificer General, eh?” His chuckle prompted 
  coughing and additional pain from his wrapped chest. “Is 
  that a promotion or a demotion?”
  The major was a good man, but he was rather tightly wound 
  and clearly mindful of representing the highest echelons of 
  the Cygnaran Army. “It is a singular honor, General. A new 
  post and commission specifically created to recognize your 
  contributions to Cygnar’s war arsenal. You now have total 
  authority over the Cygnaran Armory as well as all privately 
  owned military contractors. Projects you deem vital are to be 
  given priority. The first of the Stormwalls will be arriving in 
  a matter of days, and I am sure they will provide a decisive 
  advantage against the Khadorans.”
  “Perhaps,” Nemo allowed. “Although as you know, CRS 
  reports confirm the Khadorans learned of our colossal 
  project and promptly built their own. They have already 
  staged parades in Korsk to display their oversized 
  machines.” He sighed heavily and said, “Impossible to keep 
  secrets anymore, on either side. We each have our spies.”
  The major paused and said with forced enthusiasm, “Even 
  a few weeks with such machines in our hands while theirs 
  slog through the forest should give us the edge.”
  “Yes. I’m very glad the Khadorans are finding the 
  Thornwood as troublesome as we ever did. It’s a bad place 
  for colossals, although perhaps these newer ones will fare 
  better.” Nemo decided he had enjoyed the company of the 
  royal emissary long enough. “I appreciate your confidence, 
  Major. Send my regards to the warmaster general and 
  King Leto, and thank them for the honor. Tell them I’d like 
  more reinforcements and supplies. Ammunition especially: 
  Defender, Cyclone, Charger, and Sentinel. We have every 
  gun shop in Corvis making bullets, and it’s not enough.”
  The major bowed deeply and took his leave, making way 
  for a man wearing the distinct attire of an arcane scholar 
  of the Order of Illumination. He was in his early fifties, but 
  to Nemo’s eyes he looked young despite his wispy, mostly 
  gray hair and his thick goggles. His white and gold formal 
  robes hung loosely from his thin frame, and he wore the 
  symbols of Morrow and his order prominently displayed. 
  Nemo impatiently waved him forward and sat up in bed, 
  ignoring the pain from the exertion. 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  
  11
  “Been waiting out in the hall all this time, Dolan?” Nemo 
  asked irritably. “Should have come in at once; the major 
  could have waited. Speak plainly—how is she?” 
  Vigilant Peer Carrick Dolan took no umbrage at Nemo’s 
  abrupt manner. Many of the Illuminated were grim-faced 
  and battle-hardened witch hunters who spent their lives 
  trying to eradicate necromancers and infernalists, but 
  Carrick was different. He was a scholar, occultist, and 
  alchemist who spent his time amid dusty ancient tomes 
  and in laboratories. He was also the Church of Morrow’s 
  foremost expert on supernatural afflictions and poisons, 
  having experience with the effects of blight, exposure to 
  necrotite, and other Cryxian calamities. He had been rushed 
  to Corvis after Nemo had sent word by telegraph of Major 
  Victoria Haley’s condition. 
  There were dark wells under his eyes, as he had slept little 
  in the two nights since his arrival. He frowned, opened his 
  mouth, closed it again, and finally said, “Most perplexing. 
  An altogether unusual situation.” He was in the habit of 
  speaking slowly, something Nemo found grating.
  “Will she live? Out with it, man!” Nemo exclaimed.
  Dolan did not flinch. “Her condition has stabilized, and 
  she does not appear to be in imminent mortal danger. But 
  the situation remains severe. I have found no means to 
  purge the toxin.”
  “Have you learned anything useful at all?” Nemo asked, 
  exasperated.
  “Quite a bit,” Dolan replied seriously. “This poison is 
  not entirely new to me, albeit clearly modified. Very 
  rare. 
  Requires 
  prohibitively 
  expensive 
  ingredients. 
  Likely originated in Blackwater. A finicky bit of alchemy, 
  requiring time and skill. Not widely used, as it affects only 
  those who practice the arcane. Behaves more like an illness 
  than a traditional poison, and requires magical energy to 
  sustain itself.”
  Nemo’s eyes narrowed. “Warcaster poison? Hard to believe 
  Cryx wouldn’t find a use for that.”
  Dolan shook his head. “Not worth the trouble. A dose the 
  size the major received may have taken years to distill and 
  isn’t even fatal. Mostly an alchemical oddity. Those afflicted 
  should simply be overcome with nausea as their magic 
  fails them for several hours. I expect Cryx is investigating 
  it while they try to develop something to permanently 
  eradicate arcane potential in their enemies.”
  “Wonderful,” Nemo muttered sourly. “But why is Haley 
  still suffering its effects, then?”
  The alchemist pressed on, clearly warming to the topic. “I 
  presume the assassin hoped the poison would stifle your 
  magic long enough that he could murder you by more 
  traditional means. A suicide mission, but one that might 
  have succeeded if not for Major Haley’s intervention. 
  Ordinarily, when a victim’s magic is extinguished, the 
  process by which the poison sustains itself fails and it 
  dissipates. Major Haley’s power is too strong to extinguish 
  entirely, so the poison reached an equilibrium where it 
  continually feeds on the source of her magic to sustain 
  itself. Quite fascinating, really.”
  “What does that mean for her?” Nemo prodded.
  “While the poison is in her system it is continually spilling 
  a small quantity of toxins into her blood. She is in constant 
  pain, but she should develop a tolerance for it. To prevent 
  the poison from becoming stronger she will need to 
  suppress her arcane powers entirely. She cannot rely on 
  magic, not until we find a cure. I suggest she be confined to 
  administrative duty, indefinitely.”
  “Effectively she is a warcaster no longer.” Nemo pronounced 
  the sentence in any icy tone.
  “I will do everything I can, but this is an unprecedented 
  circumstance. A cure may not even be possible.”
  Feeling an intense desire to get back into his armor, 
  Nemo ignored the pain that washed over him as he stood 
  from the bed. He said, “I suggest you get back to your 
  laboratory immediately. Pray while you work, if it’ll 
  help. Just restore her.”
  Point bourne
  The northern section of the city, abandoned by civilians 
  long before the attack by Khador, had become the site of 
  frantic Cryxian activity. It served as the coordination point 
  for sorting the city’s plunder and shipping it north into 
  the Thornwood as efficiently as possible. This included a 
  continuous line of wagons hauling corpses, although not all 
  captives had been slain or turned over to the necrosurgeons 
  for transformation to thralls. In accordance with the 
  arrangements made with Lich Lord Asphyxious’ allies, a 
  percentage of those civilians were shackled, blindfolded, 
  and hauled off to the cephalyx, who would eventually 
  transform them into drudges. Deneghra walked past all this 
  activity with a critical eye, scanning to ensure everything 
  was proceeding as planned. 
  her rifle Gave a loud 
  rePort, and a rune-sCribed 
  round took the Creature’s 
  head Clean off. 
  
  12
  They did not have unlimited time. More resources had 
  been invested in the city’s seizure than she would prefer. 
  Asphyxious had hoped to regain clout with the other lich 
  lords by playing an instrumental role in assisting Venethrax 
  with securing his prize. Lord Toruk would be watching 
  for the successful delivery of this athanc, and it behooved 
  the dragon’s servants to ensure that came to pass. Were it 
  not for this, there would have been little reason to occupy 
  Point Bourne at all, aside from the always useful tactic 
  of exploiting vulnerabilities left by the mainland armies 
  as they fought their trivial wars. Already the gains here 
  had been substantial; Asphyxious had declared the plan, 
  orchestrated and initiated by Deneghra, a complete success. 
  All that remained was for Venethrax to be sent on his way 
  with Skarre escorting.
  Deneghra descended steep steps into one of the most 
  heavily fortified of the buildings remaining amid a cluster 
  of lower outlying structures in the northern region: a 
  former Cygnaran military command station and stockade. 
  She moved into the lower chambers with the smooth, fluid 
  grace of a stalking cat. As she neared her destination she 
  could hear the laboring machines making their rhythmic 
  susurrations. The holding cell was dimly lit, and its vents 
  did not completely clear the noxious fumes that came from 
  the machinery surrounding the individual at its center. He 
  was suspended from chains that wrapped his chest and 
  shoulders but exposed the stumps where his arms and legs 
  had been torn from him nearly a century ago. Piping and 
  tubes sunk into the lower section of his torso connected 
  him to bellows and pumps. While technically his heart and 
  lungs did not need these in order to function, the devices 
  augmented his ancient organs, as he had long exceeded his 
  natural lifespan.
  Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Alexander Karchev’s bald 
  head gleamed beneath the gaslights. The kommander had 
  already been subjected to a taxing and intensive regimen of 
  pain and agony. His flesh had proven remarkably resilient. 
  He should have been at her mercy: helpless, weak, and alive 
  only by the functions of the redundant support systems. She 
  had eagerly anticipated breaking his will and shaping his 
  mind like clay, pulling forth his inner shames and repressed 
  desires, making him her puppet. She did not understand 
  these reserves of will. There must be a limit.
  His eyes met hers as she approached and she gave him a sly 
  smile, walking with swaying hips toward him. He radiated 
  nothing but raw aggression and hatred. Her smile faltered 
  as she felt the temperature in the room increase dramatically 
  and saw the air shimmer around his torso. “Now, now, none 
  of that!” She yanked a lever attached to one of the nearest 
  machines, prompting a flat metal slab set with a tightly 
  packed row of nails coated with a burning liquid to slam into 
  his naked back, piercing through the skin in dozens of places.
  His entire frame went rigid as his muscles tightened and 
  his jaw clenched involuntarily, but he did not scream. The 
  shimmering haze around him faded and the temperature 
  returned to normal, to Deneghra’s relief. Every time this 
  happened she half-expected the mechanism would fail 
  and then the room would explode with power, tearing 
  her asunder. The image was so vivid in her mind she 
  had to blink and shake her head to clear it. She met his 
  bloodshot eyes. 
  “You will regret not killing me,” he muttered through his 
  teeth. “Very soon.”
  “Hush, now,” she crooned, running her cool hand along 
  his sweat-streaked face. “Death’s embrace will come, 
  in time. But we must not be hasty. I have plans for you. 
  Wondrous plans. You must feel so helpless, but you 
  will become a weapon again. I dream of the day I can 
  send you against your own countrymen. Imagine their 
  horror, their despair. Their national treasure, the Hero of 
  the First Thornwood War, become a vassal of Lich Lord 
  Asphyxious.”
  “That will not be,” he said flatly. “I serve the Motherland.”
  Green runes manifested around her hand as she gathered 
  her will. She leaned close, placing her fingers against 
  his forehead, and sent her thoughts wriggling into 
  his mind. Despite his ancient injuries and subsequent 
  modifications, he was still a man, with the desires and 
  weaknesses of his gender. Though her flesh was dead, 
  she knew he must desire her. His will was softening, 
  the pain splitting cracks in his resolve. He must seek 
  comfort, release, oblivion. Somewhere in him was the key 
  to a keening desperation and despair she could use to 
  unravel him. “Surrender to me,” she whispered, her lips 
  only inches from his ear. She reversed the lever to retract 
  the spiked plate and sensed his intense relief. Her fingers 
  traced his skin softly.
  The same training that allowed a warcaster to connect his 
  mind to cortexes made using such manipulations against 
  one extremely difficult, but Karchev’s diminished state 
  had finally given her an opening. For a moment she felt 
  rising excitement as she sensed the chaotic storm of his 
  surface thoughts. She pressed in deeper, deeper. Then his 
  mental barriers slammed back into place with the strength 
  of a steel wall. She had committed so much of her will into 
  the effort that his hatred and defiance sent her staggering, 
  her mind reeling. She snarled and pulled a different lever 
  even as she felt the shimmering signs of his power being 
  mustered once more. This time a nozzle directed at the 
  side of his neck sprayed a thin mist of corrosive bile across 
  his skin, sizzling and popping as it ate the upper layers. 
  The pain overwhelmed him again and his concentration 
  was lost, even as his eyes remained defiant.
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  
  13
  Deneghra glared back at him, considering that perhaps 
  keeping him alive was not worth the effort. For a 
  crippled man, he had been a most troublesome captive. 
  She refused to admit defeat; Asphyxious had taken to 
  the idea of transforming Karchev into a weapon to be 
  used against his own nation, and such a transformation 
  would require work. Asphyxious would assist once they 
  had him back at the Thornwood necrofactorium, but her 
  failure to break the man’s will before turning him over to 
  the lich lord vexed her.
  She turned a geared dial attached to the wheezing bellows, 
  reducing the rate of their compressions. Karchev’s 
  breathing became strained, his eyelids flickered, and his 
  head fell as the lack of oxygen forced him unconscious. 
  Satisfied he was in no position to demolish the chamber 
  with the force of his hatred, Deneghra turned the dial in 
  the other direction, just enough to ease his breathing, and 
  stepped back.
  “Mistress, I have urgent news.” The hissing words did 
  not startle her. She had been aware of the approach of the 
  pistol wraith, who drifted serenely through the intervening 
  walls to reach her side. He knelt and bowed his head. She 
  recognized him as a creature once named Thomas Ketchum, 
  one of several wraiths she had sent outside the city to watch 
  for unexpected trouble.
  “Speak,” she commanded him.
  “While patrolling the eastern road, I spied a mortal 
  attempting to flee the city unseen and followed him. He 
  bore the colors and wore the cloak of a ranger of Cygnar. 
  I might have killed him, but his manner suggested a man 
  on a mission, and he was protective of a satchel he bore—”
  “Get to the point.” Ketchum was an old wraith and slightly 
  eccentric. Deneghra put up with him only because he was 
  also keenly intelligent and observant.
  “I went ahead of him, having heard the sound of 
  hooves, and discovered a large column of Cygnarans 
  advancing down the mountain roads from Stonebridge 
  or Bainsmarket. By the banners I mark it as the Storm 
  Division, with Lord Commander Stryker commanding. A 
  
  14
  large force, well equipped. I returned and killed the ranger 
  I had followed, lest his communications be delivered. I 
  then came to you.” He bowed again.
  “How long until they arrive?”
  “Three days at most, although such a force will take time 
  to ready for assault. Of course, the Cygnaran-occupied 
  military quarter holds the gate to that road.” 
  Deneghra showed no outward reaction, although her mind 
  was leaping ahead. “And the satchel? Did you bring the 
  messages he bore?”
  “Of course, mistress.” The wraith became substantial and 
  offered a leather case bearing the Cygnus. After taking it, 
  she dismissed him to vanish once more through the walls.
  Deneghra quickly skimmed and her eyes narrowed 
  through the intercepted missives. It was too much to hope 
  this had been the only copy. The Cygnarans would have 
  dispatched a dozen rangers or more. If it was no ruse, 
  Khador would have done the same. Deneghra had eyes 
  and ears scattered around the periphery of the city, but they 
  were primarily to watch for the approach of armies. Single 
  elusive couriers would be easy to miss. She looked back 
  to the unconscious Khadoran and her mouth tightened. 
  Savoring that project would have to wait. She sent her will 
  lashing out like a whip to crack against the mind of her 
  nearest necrotech, who was two chambers away working 
  on a piece of delicate apparatus. He abandoned his work 
  and came at once. 
  Deneghra barely acknowledged his arrival as she ordered, 
  “Prepare Karchev for travel.”
  Deneghra found Asphyxious regally surveying the harvest 
  of bodies and souls from one of the taller buildings just 
  south of the central river locks. From here he could oversee 
  the operation and issue commands to his skarlocks and 
  other subordinates. He was suffused with a spectral green 
  glow as the tormented essence of the slain howled and 
  swirled around him. His soul cages pulsed with 
  necromantic energy, filled beyond their ordinary capacity, 
  and now he was sampling the essence of the newly slain as 
  a connoisseur of the ineffable and immortal essence of life. 
  Next to him stood his battle skarlock, Vociferon, who held 
  aloft a bladed staff with a crossbar from which dangled a 
  mass of gleaming soul cages. 
  As souls of greater potency emerged from below, 
  Asphyxious cast aside weaker ones, discarding them to fall 
  shrieking and moaning amid the streets of Point Bourne. 
  Ghosts birthed by violence, some might pass on to Urcaen, 
  traumatized and reduced by their rough handling, while 
  others would haunt this place to act out their final moments. 
  While invisible to most mortal eyes, their presence would be 
  felt in subtler ways. Most of these shades were insubstantial 
  and impotent, in life possessed of inadequate ambition, 
  but some few might learn to sustain themselves by preying 
  on the living. The scars that would be left on Point Bourne 
  would be deeper than the bullet holes pocking its walls and 
  the rubble in its streets.
  Deneghra was not immune to the rush and euphoria of 
  this influx of fresh-spilled soul energy. Her own cages 
  were also brimming with power, and she could feel vitality 
  pouring through her dead flesh. The only time she had felt 
  similar overwhelming potency had been atop the Temple 
  Garrodh while it swept in the souls of the slain as armies 
  clashed around it. Most of that power had flowed directly 
  to Asphyxious, but she had been able to sample the currents 
  as they spilled through the machine and its vault-like core. 
  The secrets of that facility had been lost when it tumbled 
  beneath the earth, buried beyond even Cryx’s attempts at 
  recovery. There was still much the Orgoth had known that 
  they had yet to understand.
  Asphyxious turned as she approached and said, “Dost thou 
  come to savor the harvest? The selection is rather flavorless, 
  I am afraid. But their bodies will serve.”
  “Lord Asphyxious, I bring urgent news,” she responded, 
  feeling urgency. “First, I have word of a Cygnaran army 
  marching here from the east, to arrive very soon.”  She 
  described what she knew of the force her pistol wraith had 
  encountered. “Clearly Iron Lich Virulex was defeated.”
  “Virulex has a talent for survival. I feel certain we shall see 
  him again.” His tone suggested this was unfortunate. He 
  had sent the iron lich to conduct raids deeper in the interior 
  quite deliberately; Virulex’s true loyalties rested with Lich 
  Lord Terminus.
  “Additionally,” Deneghra continued, “Khador and Cygnar 
  have entered into an alliance against us. Those remaining 
  here in the city will work together now.” 
  Asphyxious did not seem alarmed. “Thou did predict this 
  alliance; I thought their enmity too deep.”
  “I did not think it would happen so quickly,” Deneghra 
  admitted. “I had hoped to be gone from the city first.”
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  “it Would not be beYond  
  lord toruk to obliterate  
  his Present servants in their 
  entiretY and start aneW.”
  
  15
  “It would seem we have no choice but to establish a 
  stronger defensive perimeter and weather their attacks 
  until the arrival of Venethrax. Not an ideal situation, to 
  be sure, but one we considered. I may need thee to hasten 
  north to gather reinforcements, including Mortenebra 
  and her special project.” Asphyxious peered out above the 
  rooftops, looking first to the west, then the east. “It may be 
  time to exterminate those forces barricaded within the walls, 
  before the arrival of external armies bolster them. Which to 
  slaughter first? Khador, I think. Their position is improvised 
  and considerably less secure.”
  “A different plan occurred to me,” Deneghra said, choosing 
  her words carefully. “I believe we need to rethink our 
  contingencies.” 
  Asphyxious seemed in a receptive mood, perhaps sated by 
  the ample influx of souls and corpses. “Oh?” he asked. “I 
  will hear thy mind.”
  She smiled and continued, “Given Lich Lord Venethrax 
  is delayed and we cannot know when he will arrive, 
  I suggest we abandon the city entirely and retreat to 
  the Thornwood. There is no point in wasting resources 
  becoming embroiled in an escalating battle here, against 
  both Khador and Cygnar at once.” She was careful not to 
  suggest they might be defeated in such a clash, knowing 
  such a statement would prick his pride.
  “My sweet Deneghra, it was at thine urging that we took 
  this city at the outset, a course I was initially loath to follow. 
  I know thee too well to think thou shirks from battle. The 
  resources we have gathered exist solely for the purpose of 
  being expended where and when we wish. Thou knowest 
  this, so perhaps I have mistaken thy meaning.”
  She said, “We must think first and foremost of the athanc 
  borne by Lich Lord Venethrax—am I correct in this?”
  “Of that there is no doubt. Even were Lord Toruk’s eye not 
  fixed hungrily upon this freshly discovered prize, it would 
  behoove us at this time to bestow upon the other lich lords 
  our cooperation in this matter. There is much capital to be 
  won, should our efforts prove instrumental in its recovery. 
  Similarly, its loss would prompt repercussions. It would not 
  be beyond Lord Toruk to obliterate his present servants in 
  their entirety and start anew.”
  Deneghra had never heard this particular scenario spoken 
  and shuddered at the thought. She had never seen the 
  dragon with her own eyes but had learned to respect and 
  fear him based upon the manner in which Asphyxious 
  referred to him. Her master was not easily cowed by the 
  might of others. “Consider then, the consequences if we 
  linger. Yes, we would hold Point Bourne secure, providing 
  the means for Venethrax to escape west, but by the time he 
  arrives this entire region will be embroiled in open war. The 
  chances of his exodus being detected would become all the 
  greater. Khador’s and Cygnar’s navies might coordinate to 
  intercept. If we are careful executing our retreat, however, 
  leaving some lingering forces to slow the enemy and 
  allowing them to witness our reversal, they will be drawn 
  after us like flies to carrion. Their armies will chase on our 
  heels to finish us, underestimating our reserves. We have 
  worked to convince them the bulk of our strength lies on the 
  Broken Coast, and they believe it. If they smell blood and 
  think they can finish us, they will not hesitate to do so. They 
  will chase us north, toward the necrofactorium, with armies 
  as large as they can muster.”
  Asphyxious seemed to consider her words and then said, 
  “All the while, Venethrax can continue south, unimpeded.”
  “Precisely. Skarre and her riverboats can linger behind, 
  staying unseen among the detritus on the river. There has 
  been little river trade since the war reached these waters. 
  When Venethrax nears, they will make use of Malathrax’s 
  agents in Five Fingers to expedite their exodus past the Bay 
  of Stone as planned. The fleet will rendezvous and see them 
  home while the might of Cygnar and Khador follows us.”
  It was a long moment before Asphyxious replied. “We 
  would be taking considerable risk in so doing. Exposing the 
  heart of my power to their eyes.”
  “True,” she admitted, “but we will be ready to make 
  battle on ground of our choosing. By your power, we can 
  withstand them. If the recovery of the athanc is of prime 
  importance, I believe this is the better course.”
  “Thou serves me well,” Asphyxious said after a lengthy 
  pause, prompting in her a rush of pleasure and contentment 
  that momentarily overwhelmed her. He waved dismissively. 
  “I leave it to thy discretion to relate the plan to Skarre 
  Ravenmane; I feel no need to speak with the satyxis.” 
  Lord Commander Coleman Stryker was proud of how 
  swiftly the men of his division had made the march to 
  Point Bourne, particularly as they were already battered 
  and weary. Given what he knew of the city’s fortifications 
  and the measures taken to secure the northern shore, he 
  had been skeptical of the news of its capture. Now, though, 
  he saw the proof in thick plumes of smoke that poured 
  from the city to darken the sky. 
  His mind went to those he knew in the city, including both 
  Major Haley and Captain Sloan as well as his old instructors 
  at the Strategic Academy. He thought of them as he marched 
  alongside Ol’ Rowdy, remembering the days before his 
  journeyman tour, when he had first become acquainted 
  with the stubborn warjack that would become his most 
  
  16
  loyal battlefield companion. It was during those years at 
  the Strategic Academy that he had confronted his power, 
  which he had once sought to suppress, and come to grips 
  with what he could be. He never would have imagined 
  Khadoran boots treading on those streets, let alone putting 
  old and familiar buildings to the torch. His anger increased 
  as he imagined it, and he knew similar thoughts added 
  urgency to the footsteps of his soldiers.
  “That smoke seems very thick,” Constance Blaize observed 
  as they neared. Her smaller force of Morrowan knights and 
  the remnants of the ruined Paulson Barracks had joined 
  him a week previous. Stryker appreciated the presence of 
  another experienced warcaster, particularly since Captain 
  Kraye had been sent to Corvis, he had left Major Brisbane 
  at Stonebridge, and Caine had been requested for some 
  special mission to the south. His own force was outfitted 
  with ample warjacks, but he had too few warcasters to 
  properly exploit them. Blaize continued, “Why would the 
  Khadorans burn the town?”
  Stryker’s lip curled. “It would not be completely out of 
  character for them to burn what they cannot pillage. We saw 
  similar acts in Llael.” He reconsidered this even as he spoke: 
  This situation was not like Llael, he reminded himself. With 
  Point Bourne’s strategic location, it would be to Khador’s 
  advantage to keep the city intact. They should have been 
  fortifying. Casting about for an explanation, he added, 
  “Resistance was likely more fierce than they anticipated.” 
  He could not imagine Major Haley in particular giving up 
  the city. He hoped she had learned the value in a strategic 
  retreat after the fall of Northguard.
  One of his advance rangers reached him from ahead, her 
  expression difficult to read. “Lord Commander, take a look!” 
  She offered her spyglass to him and pointed toward the wall. 
  Stryker felt some slight annoyance at this lack of proper 
  protocol. Rangers were supposed to offer reports to their 
  superiors, not goad their curiosity. But members of the CRS 
  had been long accustomed to looser practices, as was likely 
  necessary in their role. He took the lens and peered through 
  it. The battlements seemed surprisingly intact. This nearest 
  section of the city was the military quarter where the northern 
  Strategic Academy was located, and his hopes increased as 
  he saw familiar uniforms atop the wall. “Looks like things 
  are not as bleak as we feared,” he said. “We still have the 
  military quarter, certainly the most secure area of the city.”
  “Look to the inner wall,” the ranger advised, pointing.
  He squinted into the distance at the limits of the spyglass’ 
  effective range. After a bit of searching he found a narrow 
  section of the inner battlements facing into the city and 
  caught a glimpse of crimson. He adjusted the focus, and 
  this became red uniforms. He saw the silhouette of an 
  oversized scoped rifle, what had to be a Widowmaker. His 
  eye flinched; he half-expected to see the enemy sniper fire 
  on the Cygnarans atop the adjacent wall. When this did not 
  happen, he walked several paces ahead to find a better angle 
  and at last confirmed Khadorans and Cygnarans occupying 
  the same battlement, with perhaps a dozen yards between. 
  Neither looked at the other, staring instead down into the 
  city streets. He lowered the glass, dumbfounded. “Morrow 
  above, how can this be?”
  The Cygnaran soldiers cheered the arrival of the Storm 
  Division and ushered the leading officers into the 
  overcrowded military quarter. The lord commander had 
  been forced to leave most of his soldiers outside the gates, 
  instructing them to watch their perimeter and be ready for 
  anything. It looked as though what remained of the Point 
  Bourne garrison, a sizable portion of Cygnar’s First Army, 
  was crammed into every possible building of the district. 
  Many of those Stryker passed showed signs of recent 
  injuries, including some who were seriously maimed. 
  Stryker acknowledged their enthusiasm but kept his 
  attention focused ahead, where his escort had been 
  instructed to take him immediately to their senior-most 
  officer. When he’d heard Lord General Olan Duggan was 
  still alive—and actively involved in making plans with the 
  senior Khadoran officer!—it had been more than he could 
  believe. The Duke of the Northforest’s lands had been 
  claimed by northerners during the retreat. He had fought 
  at Fellig, Deepwood Tower, and Northguard, making 
  the defense of Cygnar’s borders against Khadoran and 
  Khadoran-paid mercenary incursions his life’s work. Yet as 
  the lord commander walked forward to the western plaza 
  where rows of sword knights, long gunners, and trenchers 
  were gathered in formation, he saw the grizzled lord general 
  standing at a map-strewn table alongside a Khadoran in 
  warcaster armor festooned with awards and medals. 
  “Supreme Kommandant Gurvaldt Irusk.” Stryker found it 
  impossible to hide the animosity in his voice. 
  The Khadoran turned at the sound of his name and their 
  eyes locked for a long moment before he offered a slight 
  inclination of his head, the smallest of smiles touching his 
  lips. “Lord Commander Stryker,” he said in accented but 
  clear Cygnaran, greeting him as if his arrival was neither 
  unexpected nor notable.
  “Lord General Duggan, may I have a word with you?” Stryker 
  inclined his head to show respect to the duke and lord general, 
  but the edge to his tone was unmistakable. The Morridane 
  general did not seem surprised that the warcaster wished to 
  speak to him in private. They walked to the side behind the 
  shelter of a battered Defender being seen to by mechaniks, 
  who made themselves scarce at a glare from Duggan.
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  
  17
  Stryker had not had occasion to spend much time with 
  the lord general since the First Army withdrawal to the 
  Dragon’s Tongue River, or even since his elevation to Lord 
  Commander. That he had been taken out of the normal chain 
  of command was not widely appreciated by the generals, but 
  Duggan had never shown him any resentment. There was 
  mutual respect between them; Duggan had fought on the 
  front line as a proven leader and was not simply a military 
  bureaucrat. On a personal level, Stryker liked the man. Yet 
  he could not understand finding him in civil discourse with 
  the Khadoran supreme kommandant.
  Before he said anything else, Stryker felt compelled to ask, 
  “Where is Major Haley, General?”
  Duggan started, clearly having expected different first words. 
  He said, “She left for Corvis just days before the battle. Didn’t 
  inform her superiors, either. She was sorely missed.” His 
  angry expression suggested volumes unspoken.
  While the news was puzzling, Stryker felt a powerful 
  surge of relief that she was likely safe. He kept it from 
  his face. “I’m sure you can rebuke her later. But about 
  this . . .” The wave of his hand was vague, but the general 
  understood his meaning.
  “Before you say anything,” Lord General Duggan began, 
  “keep in mind you weren’t here, and you didn’t see the 
  horrors we have dealt with. These are desperate times, 
  Lord Commander.” Duggan quickly described what had 
  happened in Point Bourne: the Khadoran assault, the 
  seizure of the locks, and the Cryxian army moving in 
  behind them. He spoke of the slaughter in the streets and of 
  their difficulty mounting expeditions to save more civilians.
  “Cryx in the numbers you suggest, so deep within the 
  mainland . . .” Stryker said.
  “We knew they lingered in the Thornwood, saw them many 
  times on our retreat from Northguard. They kept nipping 
  at our heels. But those were small, harassing forces. Every 
  time we sought to confront them they retreated into their 
  holes. Reports had suggested that clash at the Orgoth 
  temple had wiped out most of them. Clearly not.” His face 
  showed deep-set weariness, and he looked aged beyond his 
  years. “You know me. Do you think I like working with the 
  reds? Even in Llael we had Cryx chewing on our leavings 
  every time we turned around. How long can this continue? 
  We can’t keep killing each other just to feed Cryx our dead. 
  We need to purge the Thornwood.”
  Stryker’s expression hardened and he said, “All these horrors 
  are ultimately the fault of Irusk and his empress. Your city 
  could have withstood Cryx had he not paved the way.”
  “You think I don’t know that? I loathe the man, but we need 
  him. And his men.”
  The lord commander scowled, unconvinced. “You do not 
  speak for the king. What terms did you offer? We cannot 
  trust them. They will turn on us the moment they sense 
  an advantage.”
  Duggan smiled slightly and said, “They assume we will 
  do the same. I do not expect this arrangement to last. 
  But we are all alive, and that gives us common cause 
  against Cryx. Irusk and his ilk would force us to bow to 
  their empress if they could, but what they want is our 
  lands. What Asphyxious wants is death and our immortal 
  souls. Our two nations cannot endure the spread of the 
  Nightmare Empire. As to terms, that will be between 
  King Leto and the empress. We’ve sent messages to them. 
  What we did here and what follows is on my head; I take 
  full responsibility.”
  Stryker could think of nothing more to say and was keenly 
  aware not only that Irusk waited nearby but also that 
  every minute they delayed gave Cryx time to murder and 
  reanimate innocent citizens. “Very well, let us see what 
  comes of your infernal bargain.”
  They returned to where Irusk was standing. He spoke as if 
  there had been no interval, addressing the lord general. “We 
  should begin the operation to unite our forces.”
  Lord Commander Stryker interrupted, “How large of a 
  contingent do you have? I hear your army suffered when Cryx 
  took advantage of your distraction to attack from the rear.”
  Irusk’s eyes were piercing, but Stryker did not flinch or look 
  away. The Khadoran said, “Our numbers do not matter to 
  the initial operation.”
  “It seems to me you have gained a detailed survey of our 
  strength by your visit here,” Stryker said with a tight smile. 
  “If we are to effectively coordinate, why withhold?”
  “Our force will be sufficient to do what must be done,” 
  Irusk answered.
  Lord General Duggan made a noise and then shook his 
  head when Stryker looked at him. “We’re wasting time. Let 
  him talk.”
  The supreme kommandant looked to the map and said icily, 
  “I have marked blockades and the largest concentrations 
  of Cryxians known to us. Any of these could have shifted. 
  "What asPhYxious Wants 
  is death and our immortal 
  souls. our tWo nations 
  Cannot endure the sPread 
  of the niGhtmare emPire."
  
  18
  I will join Lord Commander Stryker and two battalions of 
  his freshly arrived forces as a vanguard along this route,” 
  he indicated a street with a gloved finger, “to reach the 
  western gate, at which point my reserves can join us and we 
  can clear these two courtyards. That will give us room to 
  deploy our forces and coordinate strikes against Cryx-held 
  positions, prioritizing the lock bridges.”
  Stryker frowned but could find no fault. He had studied 
  Irusk’s writings in the halls of the academy just a few blocks 
  from where he stood. There was no disputing the man 
  knew how to wage war. “I’ll gather my men. But Irusk,” 
  he said sternly, locking eyes once more with the Khadoran, 
  “remember, I am in charge here.”
  “Of course, Lord Commander,” the supreme kommandant 
  said, his back ramrod straight. “We are at your service in 
  these endeavors. Let us cleanse Point Bourne of the dead.” 
  He offered an open hand across the map, and Stryker paused 
  only briefly before taking it in his own, feeling unclean as he 
  entered into this conspiracy.
  The spirit of Irusk’s men was revitalized after his return and 
  as they began to fight back against the Cryxians in the street. 
  They should still have been exhausted, having been afforded 
  so little rest since the first assault on the city. The short 
  reprieve while holed up near the western gate must have 
  helped, but it did not fully explain how they surged against 
  the forces of the dead without hesitation, screaming 
  resounding war cries. They fought alongside his warjacks 
  as an invincible tide, showing no sign of the desperation 
  that had gripped them just the day before.
  Kommander Strakhov led his forces and warjacks while 
  Irusk directed his, and their subordinate officers followed 
  their kommandant’s plans with expert precision. They 
  did the Motherland proud, even fighting alongside the 
  repugnant blue uniforms of the Cygnarans that had 
  relieved them. As much as possible he and Cygnar’s lord 
  commander sought to maintain the integrity of their own 
  companies, but as the battle became more chaotic the two 
  sides increasingly were forced to share the same lanes. 
  Irusk expected tempers to flare, but the soldiers showed 
  admirable restraint and discipline.
  Still, the hatred between the two sides was clear. There was no 
  kinship or camaraderie. The Cygnarans could hear the screams 
  of their countrymen being slaughtered and saw the too-fresh 
  signs of massacre. Not just civilians, but innocents that should 
  have been spared such horrors: the elderly, children, even 
  pregnant mothers. Cryx spared no one. Point Bourne had 
  been ravaged. Irusk could not blame the Cygnarans for their 
  simmering anger. He knew his role in this.
  Pushing against Cryx, sweeping street to street, they directed 
  that hatred at their mutual foe. Storm Knights and Iron 
  Fangs marched resolutely to the fore as lightning leapt deep 
  into the ranks of mechanithralls and blasting pikes toppled 
  helljacks. There was a sense of competitive pride between 
  the two armies. The Cygnarans resented the Khadorans and 
  hoped to free the city by their own strength of arms, rushing 
  into harm’s way rather than holding back and letting the 
  toll fall on their rivals. Similarly, the Khadorans had their 
  dignity to recover after the defeat that had been dealt to 
  them by Cryx. There was vengeance owed, and this day it 
  was the walking dead who paid.
  Irusk observed the battling Cygnarans with a critical eye, 
  taking in their tactics and techniques and orders as he 
  always had, knowing he would face them soon enough 
  as adversaries again. He had not entered into this alliance 
  insincerely, as he believed this blight must be rooted out 
  and dealt with, but he knew there could be no lasting accord 
  between their nations.
  The Storm Division was Cygnar’s finest, hand-picked by 
  their lord commander, veterans one and all and as tightly 
  knit as brothers. They were like unto his own 4th Assault 
  Legion, though the comparison left a sour taste in his 
  mouth. Stryker showed no hesitation to wade into battle 
  at the front, his armor glowing with galvanic power. The 
  Morrowan warcaster, a woman unfamiliar to Irusk, also 
  showed her courage alongside the gleaming knights in 
  silver as she directed her warjacks. Irusk observed that 
  many of the Cygnaran machines were as damaged as his 
  own. Clearly there had been hard fighting before they had 
  arrived at Point Bourne. 
  Storm Striders advanced behind the front lines, firing 
  sheets of lightning overhead, with Irusk’s battered warjacks 
  standing as a wall of iron between them and the enemy. 
  His remaining Devastators, Spriggans, and Demolishers 
  filled the role of moveable barricade, and his mind was split 
  between them even as he barked orders to his subordinates 
  and occasionally invoked his magic to empower his soldiers. 
  Some of his warjacks were entirely out of ammunition, and 
  there was no time to reload them. They pressed on, smashing 
  through dead flesh and trampling thralls underfoot, all the 
  while enduring bile sprays and the pounding of steam-
  powered fists battering their armored surfaces. 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part one
  the CYGnarans Could hear the 
  sCreams of their CountrYmen 
  beinG slauGhtered and saW the 
  too-fresh siGns of massaCre. 
  
  19
  Irusk orchestrated his part of the battle with familiar ease, 
  able to interpret the noises amid the din to determine 
  how the clash transpired despite intervening buildings 
  and distance. He could easily differentiate the sound of 
  Cygnaran and Khadoran firearms in the distance and the 
  noise of more antique Cryxian pistols and rifles, fired 
  by revenants that had boiled forth from the river to join 
  the fight. The booming of mortars and cannons joined 
  the tumult, and he directed the aggressive advance of 
  his remaining artillery batteries. For this fight it was 
  something of an ironic boon he had more artillery crew 
  than pieces to man, allowing him to cycle them as needed. 
  Other soldiers spent their time running to bring water or 
  soaked cloth to cool overheated barrels, sending plumes of 
  scalding steam into the air.
  With increasing speed the Cryxian menace was pushed from 
  the southern city. Indeed, the allied force advanced through 
  the streets with a rapidity that surprised Irusk and made 
  him suspicious. By the third day of battle he believed Cryx 
  was not actually committed to the defense. He shared a few 
  brief words with the lord commander, who had come to the 
  same conclusion. They kept their thought to themselves, 
  not wishing to undermine the morale of their men, but 
  Irusk was convinced Cryx did not intend to contest them. 
  Although the number of thralls they fought was staggering, 
  the quality and composition of the force spoke to a token 
  defense. It implied Asphyxious had already accomplished 
  whatever he had intended.
  Irusk was shouting orders to get his artillery advanced 
  into higher positions as they neared the largest lock bridge 
  crossing the Dragon’s Tongue when something caught 
  his attention across the river. He felt a familiar twinge in 
  the back of his mind and shared a look with Kommander 
  Strakhov, who was organizing his battle-weary assault 
  kommandos. Strakhov yelled for a spyglass from the 
  nearest mortar crew spotter. He used this to peer across the 
  tumult, then he pushed his way back toward the supreme 
  kommandant. “It’s Kommander Karchev! I see him—he’s 
  alive!” Irusk took the spyglass from the junior warcaster 
  and put it to his eye as Strakhov continued, “I can get to 
  him. This is our chance!”
  Irusk saw a number of skittering necrotechs attaching 
  some sort of peculiar piped machinery onto the back of 
  a modified Leviathan. They were clamping it in place 
  and working quickly, but amid the nest of pipes he saw a 
  familiar face: that of Alexander Karchev. Karchev suddenly 
  looked up, his eyes intense and brooding. Across such a 
  distance it seemed impossible he could have seen Irusk, yet 
  there was a sensation of mental contact. Karchev seemed 
  to recognize his supreme kommandant and shook his head 
  once in negation to some unasked question.
  “No,” Irusk found himself saying. “It is a ruse to draw us forth.”
  “Kommandant!” Strakhov’s face was red and his expression 
  defiant. “I can get to him—I swear it. We cannot leave him 
  in their hands!” Already the Leviathan to which Karchev had 
  been strapped was trundling north. A wall of mechanithralls 
  surged down the street toward the bridge to engage their 
  forces and was met by the shriek of incoming mortar fire. Rifles 
  crackled as revenants emerged from a street to their west. 
  “Listen to me!” Irusk said in low but intense tones. “He 
  does not wish us to rescue him, not now. He knows his duty. 
  We are being shown him deliberately. Asphyxious seeks to 
  goad us, likely into an ambush. Even were that not so, even 
  if we could bring him back, we would not.” Seeing Strakhov 
  did not comprehend his meaning, Irusk turned and scanned 
  the faces of his subordinates to find the bearded face he 
  sought. “Koldun Jielvich!” 
  He waved to summon the veteran Greylord, whose stern and 
  lined face betrayed his age even more than the white streaks 
  in his beard and hair. He was a powerfully built Khard who 
  held his runed axe in a sure grip. His companion, an old and 
  battered Juggernaut, came with him. “Yes, Kommandant?”
  “Are you prepared to use your powers to locate Kommander 
  Karchev, as I asked?”
  “Absolutely. We recovered blood from his warjack frame. 
  The rite to locate him requires both time and concentration, 
  but I can begin when you command.” He looked at the 
  booming artillery as if suggesting his surroundings were 
  less than ideal.
  “Not yet. Return to the fight.” He indicated the bridge 
  ahead, where Iron Fangs and mechanithralls clashed. 
  Irusk turned back to Strakhov and said, “The Cryxians are 
  delaying us while their masters retreat. They will set traps 
  for us in the northern city and melt into the Thornwood. 
  They will vanish into their tunnels, confident we cannot 
  follow. Amid that endless forest they could be anywhere, 
  and it would take an age to root them out. But so long as 
  Karchev is with them, we will find their heart and can reach 
  it overland. Let him do his duty.”
  Strakhov considered this, and although he did not look 
  pleased at last he nodded. There was no question Karchev 
  being alive was no mercy, not in Cryx’s grasp. Strakhov 
  turned away and summoned his warjacks as he rejoined 
  the battle. The purging of Point Bourne would bring little 
  satisfaction, and Irusk knew it was only a precursor to the 
  more harrowing fight ahead.
  
  20
  Temple 
  Flameguard
  Revenger
  Crusader
  Stormwall
  Colossals
  For the first time in centuries colossals tower over 
  the battlefields, dwarfing men and warjacks alike. 
  Centuries of mechanikal progress have birthed modern 
  colossals that make their predecessors seem primitive 
  in comparison. The colossals of the present day utilize 
  sophisticated cortexes and some of the most advanced and 
  experimental weaponry ever seen in the Iron Kingdoms, 
  making these machines the most powerful weapons in a 
  warcaster’s battlegroup.
  A colossal is a huge-based (120 mm) warjack.
  huGe base
  A huge-based model occupies the space from the bottom 
  of its base to a height of 5˝.
  faCinG & line of siGht
  A colossal’s front arc is marked on its base. Its front 
  arc is further divided into two 90° fields of fire. These 
  fields of fire determine which models a colossal can 
  target with its weapons depending on their location. 
  Weapons located on a colossal’s left side (L) can target 
  only models in its left field of fire. Weapons located on 
  a colossal’s right side (R) can target only models in the 
  colossal’s right field of fire. Weapons with locations 
  “S” or “—” can target models in either field of fire. If 
  any part of a model’s base is on the line separating the 
  left and right fields of fire it is considered to be in both 
  fields of fire.
  Colossal rules
  Field oF Fire
  This Stormwall can target 
  the Temple Flameguard with 
  the weapons in its left field 
  of fire, the Revenger with the 
  weapons in its right field of 
  fire, and the Crusader with 
  the weapons in either or both 
  fields of fire. 
  
  21
  TargeTing a Colossal
  A colossal cannot be pushed, knocked down, or made 
  stationary. A colossal cannot be moved by a slam or throw.
  Cloud effeCTs and foresT 
  Terrain
  Cloud effects and forest terrain do not block line of sight to 
  a colossal.
  TargeTing a Colossal in 
  Melee
  A model targeting a colossal with a ranged or magic attack 
  does not suffer the target in melee attack roll penalty. If a 
  ranged or magic attack misses a colossal in melee, that miss 
  is not rerolled against another model. It misses completely.
  A colossal can be targeted by combined ranged attacks 
  while it is in melee.
  PredePloyMenT
  Colossals must be placed before normal deployment. If both 
  players have models to predeploy, they predeploy their 
  models in standard deployment order.
  Massive
  A colossal cannot be pushed, knocked down, or made 
  stationary. A colossal cannot be moved by a slam or throw. 
  Colossal 
  MoveMenT
  A colossal can only advance during its normal movement 
  and cannot be placed.
  PaThfinder 
  Although the icon does not appear on their stat lines, all 
  colossals have the Pathfinder advantage.
  ConTrolling a 
  Colossal
  Colossals must be assigned to a battlegroup and cannot begin 
  the game under the control of a ’jack marshal. If a ’jack marshal 
  reactivates a colossal, the colossal becomes autonomous 
  instead of coming under the ’jack marshal’s control.
  Your opponent can never take control of your colossal by 
  any means.
  greaT MaChine
  A colossal never suffers Disruption. 
  A colossal can never gain Advance Deployment, Incorporeal, 
  or Stealth. 
  
  22
  Colossal rules
  Colossal Combat 
  rules
  ranGed attaCks While in 
  melee
  A colossal can make ranged attacks while in melee. A 
  colossal never suffers the firing in melee penalty when 
  targeting a model it is in melee with.
  A colossal cannot gain the aiming bonus while engaged.
  Colossal melee ranGe
  Colossal melee weapons and colossal melee attacks have 
  a 2˝ melee range unless otherwise noted. This includes all 
  power attacks made by a colossal.
  Colossal PoWer attaCks
  A colossal can make all the power attacks available to 
  a warjack. In addition, it can make two power attacks 
  available only to colossals: power strike and sweep. 
  PoWer strike
  A colossal making a power strike power attack uses the 
  force of its tremendous melee power to send a smaller-
  based model flying. A colossal must have at least one non-
  Smaller-based models hit by a slam power attack made by 
  a colossal are moved an additional 2˝. 
  Slam Power attack reviSited
  crippled Open Fist to make a Power Strike power attack. 
  Its target must be in the Open Fist’s field of fire and have a 
  smaller base than the colossal.
  The colossal makes a melee attack against the target. If the 
  attack hits, the target is slammed d6 + 2˝ directly away from 
  the colossal. The POW of the slam damage roll and the POW 
  of collateral damage rolls resulting from the slam are equal 
  to the STR of the colossal.
  sWeeP
  A colossal can use its arms to scythe through models within 
  its reach. A colossal must have at least one non-crippled 
  melee weapon to make a sweep power attack. This model 
  makes one melee attack with the weapon against each 
  model in the weapon’s field of fire that is within the model’s 
  2˝ melee range. Models hit suffer a damage roll with a POW 
  equal to the colossal’s STR.
  
  23
  SyStem
  StatUS 
  leFt Damage
  l  
  r 
  m 
  c
  s 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  s 
  s 
   
   
   
   
  c 
  s 
  r 
  r 
   
   
  c 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  r 
  r 
   
  m m m m c 
  r 
  rigHt Damage
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  s 
  s
   
   
   
  l 
  l 
  s 
  c
   
  l 
  l 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  c
   
  l 
  c m m m m 
  Winter Guard
  Destroyer
  Butcher
  damaGinG a Colossal
  Colossals have two damage grids—right and left—but 
  otherwise suffer damage like a smaller warjack.
  and the source of the damage was not an attack, randomize 
  which damage grid takes the damage.
  When a colossal suffers damage without a point of origin, 
  such as from a continuous effect, roll a d6 to determine 
  which damage grid takes the damage. On a roll of 1-3 the 
  damage is marked on the colossal’s left damage grid. On 
  a roll of 4-6 the damage is marked on the colossal’s right 
  damage grid.
  Once the damage grid taking the damage has been 
  determined, randomize which column takes the damage. 
  If all the damage boxes in column 6 of a colossal’s damage 
  grid are filled, continue recording damage in column 1 or 
  the next column that contains an unmarked damage box 
  within that same grid. If all the damage boxes in a colossal’s 
  grid are filled, continue recording damage on the other grid. 
  Roll a d6 to determine where to apply this damage.
  Note that on a colossal, the L and R system locations refer 
  not only to the arm on that side but rather to the entire suite 
  of weapons on that side. For example, if the R system is 
  crippled, all weapons located in location R suffer the effects 
  under Crippled Weapon.
  Some colossals also have an S system or superstructure. In 
  addition to any effects of a crippled superstructure listed in 
  a colossal’s rules, all weapons in location S suffer the effects 
  under Crippled Weapon when the S system is crippled.
  attacker location diagram
  The Stormwall can be 
  attacked by the Winter 
  Guard troops A-D on 
  its left side and the 
  Destroyer on its right 
  side. The Butcher and 
  Winter Guard troop E 
  can attack either or both. 
  When a colossal is damaged, the damage grid to be marked 
  is determined by the origin of the damage suffered. If the 
  origin of damage is in the colossal’s right field of fire, the 
  attack will damage the colossal’s right damage grid. If the 
  origin of damage is within the colossal’s left field of fire, the 
  attack will damage the colossal’s left damage grid. 
  If the colossal suffers damage from an attack and the attacker 
  is in the colossal’s back arc or any part of the attacker’s base 
  is directly in front of the colossal, the attacker chooses which 
  damage grid takes the damage. If the origin of damage is 
  in the colossal’s back arc or directly in front of the colossal 
  A
  B
  C
  D
  E
  
  24
  unbound rules
  larGe-sCale battles in the iron kinGdoms
  Before you stands an enormous force not even the greatest enemy could dismiss. Rank upon rank of anxious soldiers ready 
  their weapons behind a solid wall of heavily armored warjacks whose heartfires burn with eagerness for the coming fight. 
  In the early dawn, the rising sun begins to illuminate the vast expanse of land that will soon become riddled with craters, 
  wreckage, and the broken bodies of the unfortunate. Weeks of coordination, months of planning, and years of training have 
  gone toward mustering this immense military force, and just across the field prepares an equally impressive collection of 
  determined soldiers and massive machines awaiting the order to attack. Your people and superiors have placed their trust 
  in your ability to lead this army to victory, and the coming battle will decide how history will remember you. Your legacy 
  and the fate of your people are now intertwined.
  This is the fire in which heroes are forged. This is WARMACHINE Unbound.
  
  25
  
  26
  72˝
  48˝
  10˝
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  18˝
  24˝
  overvieW
  The following rules are an optional system for playing large-
  scale WARMACHINE and HORDES games. These rules feature 
  a new alternating sequence of play that keeps both players 
  involved constantly throughout the game. Though the standard 
  rules can accommodate large-scale play, these rules present a 
  new way to play WARMACHINE and HORDES that keeps 
  the action fast and furious by removing downtime between 
  players’ turns. Instead of each player taking a turn and moving 
  all his models each round and then waiting while his opponent 
  takes a turn and moves all his models, Unbound rounds are 
  divided into several turns in which players alternate activating 
  portions of their armies. In this way, Unbound simulates the ebb 
  and flow of actual battle, giving players ample opportunity to 
  act and react to the fortunes of war.
  Instead of completely replacing the rules of WARMACHINE 
  and HORDES, these rules modify only the structure of play 
  while leaving the core mechanics untouched. 
  As a result of this alternating sequence of play, some model 
  rules have been modified to integrate better into Unbound 
  games. A list of these changes can be found in the Unbound 
  Rules Appendix, pp. 156–159.
  Unbound has been designed with multiplayer and team 
  play in mind in addition to two-player games. These rules 
  are covered below.
  unbound armY 
  ConstruCtion
  In Unbound games, each player fields 150-point or larger 
  armies with three or more warcasters or warlocks on each side. 
  An additional warcaster or warlock is added to each army for 
  every additional 50 points of models fielded by each player.
  Players can also benefit from Formations when building 
  their armies. Formations are bonuses based on different 
  combinations of models in the army. For a list of Unbound 
  Formations, see pp. 32–38.
  table size
  Due to the scope of Unbound games, it is recommend that 
  players use a 4´ × 6´ table instead of the standard 4´ × 4´ 
  table. Truly massive games may require even larger tables 
  to accommodate play.
  dePloYment zones
  Unless otherwise noted, players deploy their armies into 
  standard 10˝ deployment zones, giving each player a 10˝ × 
  72˝ deployment area.
  seizinG the 
  initiative
  Unless the scenario dictates otherwise, at the start of the 
  game each player makes a starting roll to determine which 
  player will be the first player. The first player sets up first 
  and takes the first turn as in a normal WARMACHINE or 
  HORDES game.
  When playing Unbound, the order of play is not static. 
  Instead, beginning with the second round, at the start of 
  each round players roll to determine which player takes the 
  first turn that round. Each player rolls a d6, just as for the 
  starting roll. The player with the higher roll (or the highest 
  roll, in a multiplayer game) has seized the initiative and 
  takes the first turn that round.
  Note that any modifiers to the starting roll, such as those 
  from the Intelligence ability, do not affect the roll to seize 
  the initiative.
  domination bonus
  The more ground a player controls, the greater his chances 
  of seizing the initiative. When playing Unbound, the table 
  is divided into eight 24˝ × 18˝ territories. Starting with the 
  beginning of the second round, a player gains +1 on his 
  roll to seize the initiative for each territory he controls at 
  that time. A player controls a territory if he has one or more 
  models completely within it and his opponent does not. 
  unbound rules
  
  27
  alternatinG PlaY
  Unbound rounds are divided into a variable number of 
  turns based on the number of warcasters and/or warlocks 
  each player has at the start of the game. 
  The number of turns each player takes during a round is 
  equal to the number of warcasters and/or warlocks each 
  player has at the start of the game +1. Once the number of 
  turns a player takes during each round has been determined, 
  it does not change as play progresses and warcasters and 
  warlocks are destroyed or removed from play. 
  As in a standard WARMACHINE and HORDES game, a 
  player must activate each model/unit in his army once each 
  round. Contrary to standard games, however, only a subset 
  of models will activate in a given turn. During each of his 
  turns each round, a player can activate one battlegroup and 
  an assortment of other models and units.
  During each round, players alternate taking turns, starting 
  with the player who has the initiative. Once both players 
  have completed all their turns, the round ends. A new round 
  then begins starting with a new roll to seize the initiative. 
  For game effects, a round is measured from the current turn 
  to the end of the last turn of the round. A game effect with a 
  duration of one round expires at the end of the current round.  
  the anatomY of a round
  Each round has three phases: Maintenance, Control, and 
  Activation.
  maintenanCe Phase
  During the Maintenance Phase players take turns 
  performing the following steps, beginning with the player 
  who has the initiative that round. Once the player with 
  the initiative completes all these steps, the next player will 
  resolve them.
  1. 
  Remove all focus points from your models. For each 
  of your models with the Fury Manipulation ability, 
  remove all fury points in excess of its FURY stat. Leave 
  fury points on warbeasts at this time.
  2. 
  Check for expiration of continuous effects on any 
  models you control. After removing all expired 
  continuous effects, resolve the effects of those that 
  remain in play. All damage dealt by continuous effects 
  is resolved simultaneously.
  3. 
  Resolve all other effects that occur during the 
  Maintenance Phase.
  the round structure of Unbound games substantially 
  changes the familiar timing of the game and forces players 
  to approach their model and unit activations carefully. 
  notably, many spells and feats that can be stacked in 
  normal warmacHine and HordeS games are limited to 
  affecting only the models activating in the current turn. 
  Play accordingly!
  
  28
  Control Phase
  During the Control Phase, players take turns performing the 
  following steps beginning with the player who has the initiative 
  that round. Once the player with the initiative completes all of 
  these steps, the next player will then resolve them.
  1. 
  Each of your models with the Focus Manipulation ability, 
  like warcasters, replenishes its focus and receives a 
  number of focus points equal to its current FOCUS. Each 
  of your models with the Fury Manipulation ability can 
  leach any number of fury points up to its current FURY 
  from warbeasts in its battlegroup in its control area.
  2. 
  Each model with the Focus Manipulation or Fury 
  Manipulation abilities can spend focus or fury points to 
  maintain its upkeep spells in play. If a model does not 
  spend focus or fury points to maintain a spell requiring 
  upkeep, the spell expires and its effects end immediately.
  3. 
  Make a threshold check for each of your warbeasts with 
  1 or more fury points left on it. Any warbeasts that fail 
  the check immediately frenzy.
  4. 
  Resolve all other effects that occur during the 
  Control Phase.
  Note that shaking knockdown and stationary effects in 
  an Unbound game occurs at the start of a turn in which a 
  model activates.
  Focus is allocated at the start of each turn, rather than at the 
  start of the round. 
  aCtivation Phase
  During the Activation Phase, players take turns activating 
  their models as defined in the Taking Turns section below. 
  All models you control must be activated once per round. 
  unbound rules
  we strongly recommend marking your models and 
  units as you activate them. this can be accomplished 
  by placing a token next to each model and unit as it 
  activates. remove those tokens at the end of the round.
  during your final turn of each round, it may be helpful 
  to mark activating units with tokens of a different color 
  to denote they activated during your last turn of the 
  round. leave these off-color tokens in place when the 
  other activation tokens are removed at the end of the 
  round so players will remember which models/unit 
  cannot activate during the first turn of the next round. 
  after that turn ends, remove the off-color tokens since 
  these models are now eligible to activate this round.
  marking activated UnitS
  
  29
  takinG turns
  Except for his last turn each round, a player must declare 
  his intention to activate one warcaster- or warlock-
  controlled battlegroup at the start of each of his turns. 
  Though the models in the battlegroup are still activated 
  separately, all models in the declared battlegroup must be 
  activated that turn.
  During a turn in which a player activates a battlegroup, he 
  can also activate any combination of the following:
  • 
  Up to 4 units
  • 
  Up to 4 solos
  • 
  Up to 2 independent warjacks
  • 
  Up to 2 battle engines
  A player can exercise any of these options or none, as he 
  chooses. 
  Models and units can be activated in any order during 
  a turn. The models in a battlegroup do not have to be 
  activated before other models and units a player is 
  activating that turn.
  All of a player’s warcaster- or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroups will have activated before his last turn each 
  round. During his last turn each round a player activates 
  his remaining models and units. If a player has already 
  activated all of his models and units before this turn, he 
  will not be able to activate any models or units during 
  his last turn of the round. Models and units activated 
  during a player’s last turn of the previous round cannot 
  be activated during his first turn of a given round. This 
  means that a model can never activate two turns in a 
  row. Note that this rule only applies to models that were 
  activated during each player’s last turn of the round (the 
  turn after all warcaster or warlock battlegroups have 
  already been activated).
  When a model or unit activates, any warjacks or warbeasts 
  the model or unit controls must also activate that turn. 
  This includes warjacks and warbeasts controlled by ‘jack 
  marshals and lesser warlocks.
  ExamplE: Brent and Jack are playing a 150-point Unbound 
  game and each player is fielding 3 warcasters. Because the 
  players are fielding 3 warcasters each, each will take 4 turns 
  each round. During each player’s first 3 turns each round 
  he must activate one battlegroup. In addition to activating 
  the models in the battlegroup, each player can also activate 
  any combination of the following: up to 4 units, 4 solos, 2 
  independent warjacks, and 2 battle engines. During each 
  player’s fourth turn of the round he must activate any model 
  or units that he has not yet activated that round. Any models/
  units activated during that fourth turn cannot be activated 
  during the first turn of the upcoming round.
  
  30
  unbound rules
  lost WarCasters and WarloCks
  If one or more of a player’s warcasters or warlocks have 
  been destroyed or removed from play, that player is not 
  required to activate a warcaster- or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroup during each of his turns and can choose which 
  turns to activate his remaining warcaster or warlock-
  controlled battlegroups. However, he must still activate all 
  of his remaining battlegroups each round, can only activate 
  one warcaster- or warlock-controlled battlegroup each 
  turn, and cannot activate a warcaster or warlock-controlled 
  battlegroup during his last turn each round. 
  ExamplE: Jason and DC are playing a 150-point game with 
  each player taking 4 turns each round. Ordinarily, each 
  player must activate a battlegroup during his first 3 turns 
  each round. However, if one of Jason’s warcasters is destroyed, 
  he can activate his remaining two battlegroups on the first, 
  second, or third turns and must activate both by his third turn 
  each round. If Jason loses another warcaster, he can choose to 
  activate his remaining battlegroup during the first, second, or 
  third turns but cannot activate it on his fourth.
  foCus alloCation
  At the start of each of a player’s turns, each model with the 
  Focus Manipulation ability activating that turn can allocate 
  focus points to warjacks in its battlegroup that are in its 
  control area. 
  In order to allocate focus, a player must declare at the 
  start of the turn that the models allocating focus will be 
  activating that turn. This includes non-warcaster models 
  with the Focus Manipulation ability he wants to allocate 
  focus that turn.
  shake effeCts
  Instead of spending focus to shake effects during the 
  Control Phase, a model that can spend focus to shake 
  knock down or stationary does so at the start of its 
  activation.
  Instead of being forced to shake effects during the Control 
  Phase, a model that can be forced to shake knock down or 
  stationary does so at the start of its activation.
  remember that warcasters that have not yet activated will 
  still have their full focus allotment and therefore will be 
  exceptionally difficult to damage. Players should consider 
  that when determining their order of activation.
  Hard targetS
  
  31
  38˝
  38˝
  38˝
  38˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  96˝
  48˝
  10˝
  10˝
  34˝
  34˝
  10˝
  34˝
  72˝
  48˝
  multiPlaYer 
  Games
  free-for-all Games
  Unbound can accommodate three or four players in free-for-
  all games. At the start of the game, all players roll as normal 
  to determine the order of play. At the start of subsequent 
  rounds, players roll to seize the initiative. Reroll ties, with 
  the highest reroll winning the roll, followed by the next 
  highest, and so on.
  In a three-player game, each player deploys his models 
  into a 10˝ × 34˝ deployment zone. One player deploys in 
  the middle of the west table edge, the next player in the 
  northeast corner of the table, and the third player in the 
  southeast corner of the table.
  For a four-player game, increase the table 
  size to 4´ × 8´. Each player deploys his models 
  into a 14˝ × 38˝ deployment zone, each in a 
  different corner of the table.
  team Games
  Team games are played with two or more 
  players on each team, with each player 
  controlling one or more battlegroups. Each 
  team plays a single faction, but its army 
  can include non-faction models that will 
  work for that team faction. Players should 
  decide which battlegroups each player 
  will control before the start of the game. 
  Generally, fielded models that are not part 
  of a battlegroup are not assigned to a specific 
  team member. Instead, players on the team 
  take turns controlling the models that are 
  not part of one of their battlegroups. Remember that each 
  team army can include only one of any character model.
  At the start of the game, the teams roll to determine which 
  will set up first and take the first turn. Starting on the 
  second turn, teams will roll to seize the initiative. When 
  calculating a team’s domination bonus, count all models 
  on the team.
  Throughout each round, teams alternate taking turns. 
  Except for their last turn each round, the players on a team 
  must declare their intention to activate one warcaster- 
  or warlock-controlled battlegroup at the start of each 
  of their turns. The player in control of that battlegroup 
  will then activate all the models in the battlegroup that 
  turn. Additionally, other team members can activate and 
  move additional team models and units that are not part 
  of a battlegroup. On a turn he activates his battlegroup, a 
  player cannot also activate other team models and units. 
  Those are left to his teammates to activate.
  During a turn in which a player activates a battlegroup, the 
  other members of the team can activate any combination of 
  the following:
  • 
  Up to 4 units
  • 
  Up to 4 solos
  • 
  Up to 2 independent warjacks
  • 
  Up to 2 battle engines
  ExamplE: Ed and Chris are playing a 150-point game against 
  Bryan and Will. Ed controls two warcasters and Chris 
  controls one. During their first turn of the game, they decide 
  that Ed will activate one of his battlegroups. In addition to Ed 
  activating the models in his battlegroup, Chris can activate 
  up to four units, up to four solos, up to two independent 
  warjacks, and up to two battle engines.
  three-PlaYer Game
  four-PlaYer Game
  
  32
  formations
  Formations provide benefits to players in Unbound games 
  based on the composition of their armies. There is no 
  maximum number of Formation benefits a player can gain 
  for his army. Although Formations are broken down by 
  faction, the benefits are granted based on the models in the 
  army, not its primary faction.
  ExamplE: If Magnus the Traitor controls three Freebooter 
  warjacks while part of a Khador army, the Freebooters in the 
  army still benefit from the Dockside Brawlers Formation. 
  Note that some Formations require a grouping of three 
  or more warjacks or warbeasts in a battlegroup. These 
  requirements must be met at the start of the game, and 
  the Formation benefits are not contingent on the models 
  remaining in play.
  unbound rules
  
  33
  CYGnar
  CharGer WarjaCks –  
  tarGet PraCtiCe
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Charger 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Charger warjacks gain Swift Hunter. (When a 
  model with Swift Hunter destroys an enemy model with 
  a normal ranged attack, immediately after the attack is 
  resolved it can advance up to 2˝.)
  Centurion WarjaCks –  
  fortified Position
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Centurion 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Centurion warjacks by 1. 
  Additionally, Centurion warjacks gain Lash. (A model with 
  Lash and friendly warrior models B2B with it cannot be 
  knocked down.)
  defender WarjaCks –  
  hunter-killers
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Defender warjacks.
  Benefit: Defender warjacks in a battlegroup with three 
  or more Defenders gain Concerted Fire. (This activation, 
  models with Concerted Fire in the same battlegroup gain a 
  +1 cumulative bonus to ranged damage rolls for each other 
  model in the battlegroup with Concerted Fire that has hit an 
  enemy model with a ranged attack this activation.)
  stormWall Colossals – 
  ConverGenCe
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Stormwall 
  colossals.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Stormwall colossals by 1. 
  Additionally, when resolving a Stormwall colossal’s Electro 
  Leap ability ignore models with Immunity: Electricity when 
  determining what model the Electro Leap arcs to.
  lonG Gunner infantrY units – 
  infantrY line
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Long 
  Gunner Infantry units.
  Benefit: Long Gunner Infantry units gain Reform. (After all 
  models in a unit with Reform have completed their actions, 
  each can advance up to 3˝)
  trenCher infantrY units –  
  fire suPPort
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Trencher 
  Infantry units.
  Benefit: Add a Trencher Chain Gun Crew or a Trencher 
  Cannon Crew unit to the army free of cost. For every 
  additional Trencher Infantry unit in the army after the 
  first two, add an additional Trencher Chain Gun Crew or a 
  Trencher Cannon Crew unit to the army free of cost. These 
  units ignore FA restrictions.
  storm strider battle enGines – 
  thunderstorm
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Storm Strider 
  battle engines.
  Benefit: When a Storm Strider battle engine makes a d3 
  roll for Lightning Generator, roll 2d3 and discard the lower 
  die roll.
  
  34
  ProteCtorate of menoth 
  rePenter WarjaCks – 
  firestarters
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Repenter 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Repenter warjacks gain Firestarter (★Action). 
  (When a model makes a Firestarter special action, place 
  a 3˝ AOE anywhere completely within 6˝ of the warjack. 
  The center point of the AOE must be in the warjack’s LOS, 
  ignoring intervening models. A model entering or ending 
  its activation in the AOE suffers a POW 12 fire damage 
  roll 
   and Continuous Effect: Fire 
   . The AOE remains 
  in play for one round or until this model is destroyed or 
  removed from play.)
  CastiGator WarjaCks –  
  fire Walkers
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Castigator 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Castigator warjacks gain Righteous Flames. (An 
  enemy model that ends its activation within 2˝ of a model 
  with Righteous Flames suffers the Fire continuous effect  
   .)
  Crusader WarjaCks – 
  ConvoCation of fire
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Crusader warjacks.
  Benefit: Crusader warjacks in a battlegroup that includes 
  three or more Crusaders gain Soul Drive. (A model with 
  Soul Drive is allocated 1 additional focus point during 
  your Control Phase. A warjack cannot exceed normal focus 
  allocation limits as a result of Soul Drive.)
  judiCator Colossals – 
  fortresses of riGhteousness
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Judicator 
  colossals.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Judicator colossals by 1. 
  Additionally, Judicators gain Divine Influence. (Once per 
  activation when the AOE ranged attack of a model with 
  Divine Influence deviates, you can reroll the direction and/
  or distance of deviation.)
  exemPlar bastions and 
  exemPlar Cinerator units – 
  heavY armor
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Exemplar 
  Bastion units and two or more Exemplar Cinerator units.
  Benefit: Exemplar Bastion and Exemplar Cinerator models 
  gain Advance Move. (Before the start of the game but after 
  both players have deployed, a model with Advance Move 
  can make a full advance.)
  kniGhts exemPlar units –  
  hand of God
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Knights 
  Exemplar units.
  Benefit: Knights Exemplar units gain Relentless Charge. 
  (Models with Relentless Charge gain Pathfinder 
   during 
  activations they charge.)
  vessel of judGment battle enGines – 
  miraCles of War
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Vessel of 
  Judgment battle engines.
  Benefit: Each time you activate a Vessel of Judgment battle 
  engine, at the start of that activation remove d3 damage 
  from the battle engine.
  unbound rules
  
  35
  khador
  destroYer WarjaCks –  
  bombs aWaY
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Destroyer 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Destroyer warjacks gain Quick Work. (When a 
  model with Quick Work destroys one or more enemy 
  models with a melee attack during its combat action, 
  immediately after the attack is resolved it can make one 
  normal ranged attack. Attacks gained from Quick Work do 
  not count against a weapon’s ROF.)
  devastator WarjaCks –  
  ConvoY
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Devastator 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Devastator warjacks by 1. 
  Additionally, Devastator warjacks gain Heavy Boiler. (A 
  model with Heavy Boiler can run without spending focus.)
  marauder WarjaCks – 
  steamroller
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Marauder 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Marauder warjacks gain Follow Up. (When a 
  model with Follow Up slams an enemy model, immediately 
  after the slam is resolved the slamming model can advance 
  directly toward the slammed model up to the distance it 
  was moved.)
  Conquest Colossals –  
  movinG mountains
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Conquest 
  colossals.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Conquest colossals by 1. 
  Additionally, Conquest colossals gain Bulldoze. (When a 
  model with Bulldoze that is not making a trample power 
  attack advances into B2B contact with an enemy model 
  during its activation, it can push that model up to 2˝ directly 
  away from it. A model can be pushed by Bulldoze only once 
  per activation.)
  iron fanG Pikemen units –  
  Wall of iron
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Iron Fang 
  Pikemen units.
  Benefit: Iron Fang Pikemen units gain Stalwart. (While 
  B2B with another model in its unit, a model with Stalwart 
  cannot be knocked down.)
  man-o-War bombardiers and 
  man-o-War demolition CorPs 
  units – meChanized infantrY
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Man-O-War 
  Bombardiers units and two or more Man-O-War Demolition 
  Corps units.
  Benefit: Man-O-War models gain Advance Move. (Before 
  the start of the game but after both players have deployed, 
  a model with Advance Move can make a full advance.)
  Gun CarriaGe battle enGines – 
  rollinG barraGe
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Gun Carriage 
  battle engines.
  Benefit: Gun Carriage battle engines gain +1 RAT.
  
  36
  CrYx
  deathriPPer bonejaCks – 
  bonePiCkers
  Requirement: The army includes five or more Deathripper 
  bonejacks.
  Benefit: Deathripper bonejacks gain Dodge. (A model with 
  Dodge can advance up to 2˝ immediately after an enemy 
  attack that missed it is resolved unless it was missed while 
  advancing. It cannot be targeted by free strikes during this 
  movement.)
  slaYer helljaCks – 
  deathmonGers
  Requirement: One or more of your battlegroups includes 
  three or more Slayer helljacks.
  Benefit: Slayer helljacks in the battlegroup with three or 
  more Slayers gain Deathdealer. (Models with Deathdealer 
  gain +2 on melee attack rolls against trooper models.)
  leviathan helljaCks – 
  suPPression fire
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Leviathan 
  helljacks.
  Benefit: Leviathan helljacks’ Spiker weapons gain Covering 
  Fire (★Action). (A model with a weapon with Covering 
  Fire (★Action) can place a 3˝ AOE anywhere completely 
  within the weapon’s RNG as a ★Action. The center point of 
  the AOE must be in the model’s LOS, ignoring intervening 
  models. A model entering or ending its activation in 
  the AOE suffers a damage roll with POW equal to the 
  POW of the weapon with Covering Fire (★Action). The 
  AOE remains in play for one round or until the model is 
  destroyed or removed from play.)
  kraken Colossal –  
  mortuarY sCienCe
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Kraken 
  colossals.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Kraken colossals by 1. 
  Additionally, Kraken colossals begin the game with one 
  corpse token.
  meChanithrall units – 
  shamblinG dead
  Requirement: 
  The 
  army 
  includes 
  five 
  or 
  more 
  Mechanithrall units.
  Benefit: Mechanithrall units gain Shambling. (When 
  a model with Shambling is disabled by blast damage, 
  it heals 1 damage point, is no longer disabled, and is 
  knocked down.)
  revenant CreW of the AtrAmentous – 
  gun deCk
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Revenant 
  Crew of the Atramentous units.
  Benefit: Add a Revenant Cannon Crew unit to the army 
  free of cost. For every additional Revenant Crew of the 
  Atramentous unit in the army after the first two, add an 
  additional Revenant Cannon Crew unit to the army free of 
  cost. These units ignore FA restrictions.
  Wraith enGine battle enGines – 
  niGhtmare leGion
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Wraith 
  Engine battle engines.
  Benefit: Wraith Engine battle engines each begin the game 
  with three soul tokens.
  unbound rules
  
  37
  retribution of sCYrah
  banshee mYrmidons – hYmns of 
  destruCtion
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Banshee 
  myrmidons.
  Benefit: Increase the range of the Banshee’s Wailing 
  ability to 7˝.
  hYdra mYrmidons – 
  arCanodYnamiCs
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Hydra 
  myrmidons.
  Benefit: At the start of each of its activations, a Hydra 
  myrmidon is allocated 1 focus point. (A warjack cannot 
  exceed normal focus allocation limits as a result of 
  Arcanodynamics.)
  Phoenix mYrmidons –  
  avenGinG anGels
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Phoenix 
  myrmidons.
  Benefit: Phoenix myrmidons gain Righteous Flames. (An 
  enemy model that ends its activation within 2˝ of a model 
  with Righteous Flames suffers the Fire continuous effect  
   .)
  hYPerion Colossals –  
  raGe of aeons
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Hyperion 
  colossals.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Hyperion colossals by 1. 
  Additionally, Hyperion colossals gain Phoenix Field. 
  (Remove d6 damage points from the force field of a model 
  with Phoenix Field after resolving continuous effects during 
  your Maintenance Phase. While its Field Generator system 
  is crippled, the model loses Phoenix Field.)
  daWnGuard sentinel units – 
  blades of daWn
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Dawnguard 
  Sentinel units.
  Benefit: Dawnguard Sentinel units gain Stalwart. (While 
  B2B with another model in its unit, a model with Stalwart 
  cannot be knocked down.)
  houseGuard halberdier units – 
  minor houses
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Houseguard 
  Halberdier units.
  Benefit: Houseguard Halberdier units’ Halberds gain 
  Powerful Charge. (A model gains +2 to charge attack rolls 
  with a weapon with Powerful Charge.)
  arCantrik forCe Generator 
  battle enGines –  
  arCantrik ConverGenCe
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Arcantrik 
  Force Generator battle engines.
  Benefit: If an Arcantrik Force Generator forfeits its 
  movement during its activation for the aiming bonus, 
  friendly myrmidon models within 2˝ of it are affected by 
  Range Booster.
  
  38
  merCenaries
  nomad WarjaCks – hot rods
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Nomad 
  warjacks.
  Benefit: Nomad warjacks gain Heavy Boiler. (A model with 
  Heavy Boiler can run without spending focus.)
  rover WarjaCks – CountinG CouP
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Rover warjacks.
  Benefit: Rover warjacks gain Retaliatory Strike. (When a 
  model with Retaliatory Strike is hit by a melee attack made 
  by an enemy model during your opponent’s turn, after the 
  attack is resolved the model hit can immediately make one 
  normal melee attack against the enemy model. A model can 
  make one Retaliatory Strike per turn.)
  Galleon Colossal – square-riGGed
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Galleon colossals.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of Galleon colossals by 1. 
  Additionally, Galleon colossals gain Assault. (As part of a 
  charge, after moving but before making its charge attack, a 
  model with Assault can make one ranged attack targeting the 
  model charged unless they were in melee with each other at 
  the start of the activation of the model with Assault. When 
  resolving an Assault ranged attack, the attacking model does 
  not suffer the target in melee penalty. If the target is not in 
  melee range after moving, the model with Assault can make 
  the Assault ranged attack before its activation ends.)
  steelhead riflemen units –  
  best that moneY Can buY
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Steelhead 
  Riflemen units.
  Benefit: The RNG of the Military Rifles of Steelhead 
  Riflemen units is increased to 12.
  sea doG CreW units –  
  PoWder monkeYs
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Sea Dog 
  Crew units.
  Benefit: Add a Sea Dog Deck Gun unit to the army free of 
  cost. For every additional Sea Dog Crew unit in the army 
  after the first two, add an additional Sea Dog Deck Gun unit 
  to the army free of cost. These units ignore FA restrictions. 
  Ghordson avalanCher WarjaCks – 
  exPerimental artillerY
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Ghordson 
  Avalancher warjacks.
  Benefit: Ghordson Avalancher warjacks’ Avalanche Cannons 
  gain Quake. (On a direct hit with a weapon with Quake 
  against an enemy model, all models hit are knocked down.)
  horGenhold forGe Guard units – 
  the biG Guns
  Requirement: The army includes two or more Horgenhold 
  Forge Guard units.
  Benefit: Add a Horgenhold Artillery Corps unit to the 
  army free of cost. For every additional Horgenhold Forge 
  Guard unit in the army after the first two, add an additional 
  Horgenhold Artillery Corps unit to the army free of cost. 
  These units ignore FA restrictions.
  oGrun assault CorPs units – 
  mobile artillerY
  Requirement: The army includes three or more Ogrun 
  Assault Corps units.
  Benefit: Ogrun Assault Corps units gain Assault (Order). 
  (Affected models must charge or run. As part of a charge, 
  after moving but before making its charge attack, an affected 
  model can make one ranged attack targeting the model 
  charged unless they were in melee with each other at the start 
  of the affected model’s activation. Models that received this 
  order cannot make combined ranged attacks this activation. 
  When resolving an Assault ranged attack, the attacking 
  model does not suffer the target in melee penalty. If the target 
  is not in melee range after moving, the affected model must 
  still make the ranged attack before its activation ends.)
  unbound rules
  
  39
  
  40
  unbound 
  sCenarios
  The following scenarios have been designed for Unbound 
  games. They reflect titanic clashes between armies in the 
  midst of war and cover a broad selection of missions and 
  battlefield conditions. Unbound scenarios are narrative and 
  mission-oriented and are not purely competitive. These 
  scenarios do not simply create an alternate win condition 
  but instead frequently alter how the game itself is played.
  Unless otherwise noted, these scenarios are intended to be 
  played on a 4´ × 6´ table. 
  When selecting a scenario, players either agree on which 
  scenario to play or roll on the appropriate table below. It is 
  best for players to determine which scenario they will play 
  prior to building their armies since the scenario rules can 
  introduce significant twists, such as building destruction or 
  board-wide flooding.
  terrain PlaCement
  Before choosing their deployment zones, players take turns 
  placing terrain features. Players alternate placing terrain 
  features until one player wishes to stop. The other player 
  is then allowed to place one additional terrain feature. 
  Each player must place a minimum of three terrain features 
  unless otherwise dictated by a scenario’s special rules.
  unbound rules
   
  roll 
  result
   
  2 
  Basic Battle
   
  3 
  treasure Hunt 
   
  4 
  Battle in the wilderness
   
  5 
  occupation
   
  6 
  the great divide
   
  7 
  no man’s land 
   
  8 
  Barnstormers
   
  9 
  last Stand
   
  10 
  king of the Hill 
   
  11 
  Scorched earth
   
  12 
  Floodland
   
  roll 
  result
   
  1 
  Barnstormers
   
  2 
  Battle in the wilderness
   
  3 
  Floodland
   
  4 
  king of the Hill 
   
  5 
  occupation
   
  6 
  treasure Hunt 
  Terrain features should be moderately sized, no more 
  than 12˝ across. A terrain feature cannot be placed within 
  3˝ of another terrain feature. The exceptions to this are 
  that terrain features can be placed on hills and that trench 
  terrain features can be placed where they touch other 
  trench terrain features.
  multiPlaYer PlaY
  Many of the following scenarios are suitable for play with 
  three or four players. Additional rules for each of those 
  scenarios are described in its Multiplayer Game section.
  random sCenario 
  determination
  If both players agree, instead of choosing a scenario for the 
  battle, you can roll 2d6 and consult this table to determine 
  the scenario you will play. 
  For multiplayer battles, you can roll a d6 and consult this 
  table to determine the scenario you will play.
  
  41
  10˝
  10˝
  10˝
  6˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  desCriPtion
  The loss of the army’s commanders will deal a crippling 
  blow to any force and may shatter the morale of an entire 
  army. In this battle, two armies clash with the goal of 
  destroying the opposing commanders. 
  sPeCial rules
  There are no special rules for this scenario.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play. 
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is suitable for multiplayer play. 
  basiC battle
  Mortal man is never so close to the divine as when he 
  commands a great army in battle. 
  —Kommandant Gurvaldt Irusk
  barn stormers
  That fortification not only offers sanctuary but is the key 
  to this battle. 
  —Grissel Bloodsong
  desCriPtion
  The significance of any refuge from the guns of the 
  enemy cannot be overstated. In the maelstrom of war, any 
  townhouse, ruin, or standing structure can become a de 
  facto fortress.
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, place a 6˝ × 
  10˝ structure in the center of the table, as shown on the 
  diagram below. That structure is an obstruction that cannot 
  be damaged. It should have entryways large enough to 
  accommodate large-based models on two opposite sides.
  Throughout the scenario, players will attempt to hold the 
  structure. At the end of each round, a player holds the 
  structure and scores 1 victory point if he has one or more 
  models completely in the structure and his opponent has 
  none. Ignore models that are fleeing or out of formation, 
  inert warjacks, and wild warbeasts when determining 
  whether a player holds the structure.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is suitable for multiplayer play.
  
  42
  unbound rules
  viCtorY Conditions
  Starting at the end of the second round, a player wins the 
  game if at the end of the round he holds five or more of 
  the forests. A player also wins if he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  In a three-player game, do not place a forest in the center 
  of the table. Instead, players take turns each placing three 
  8˝-diameter forests anywhere within 18˝ of the center of the 
  table. These forests cannot be placed within 3˝ of each other.
  In a four-player game, place an 8˝-diameter forest in the 
  center of the table. Players then take turns each placing two 
  additional 8˝-diameter forests anywhere within 8˝ of the 
  center forest. These forests cannot be placed within 3˝ of 
  each other or the center forest.
  desCriPtion
  Two vast armies fall upon each other in the midst of an 
  ancient forest. Only the more tenacious will be able to oust 
  the enemy and take the day.
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, place an 
  8˝-diameter forest in the center of the table. Players then 
  take turns each placing four additional 8˝-diameter forests 
  anywhere within 8˝ of the center forest. These forests cannot 
  be placed within 3˝ of each other or the center forest.
  Throughout the scenario, players will attempt to hold these 
  sections of forest. A player holds a forest if he has one or 
  more models completely within the area of a forest and 
  his opponent has none. Ignore models that are fleeing or 
  out of formation, inert warjacks, and wild warbeasts when 
  determining whether a player holds a forest.
  After the forests are placed, players takes turns placing up 
  to two additional terrain features each. Remember that a 
  terrain feature cannot be placed within 3˝ of another terrain 
  feature, including a forest.
  battle in the 
  Wilderness
  Vhat none remember is that the roots of these great trees 
  have long drunk of the blood of the dead and dying.
  —The Old Witch of Khador
  
  43
  10˝
  10˝
  Deployment  
  Zone
  Deployment  
  Zone
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  14˝
  Players score victory points by holding the 10˝-diameter 
  hills. A player holds a hill if he has one or more models on 
  it and his opponent has none. At the end of each round, a 
  player scores 1 victory point if he holds three or more of 
  the hills. Ignore models that are fleeing or out of formation, 
  inert warjacks, and wild warbeasts when determining 
  whether a player holds a hill.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is suitable for multiplayer play. A player wins 
  the game when he has 2 victory points or if he has the only 
  remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  desCriPtion
  Endless rains are taking their toll, and it is only a matter 
  of time until the floodwaters rise. The army that succeeds 
  in holding the high ground will be the one to take the day. 
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, place five 
  10˝-diameter hills on the table. The first hill is placed in the 
  center of the table. The next hill is centered on a point 14˝ 
  from the north table edge and 14˝ from the east table edge. 
  The third hill is centered at a point 14˝ from the north table 
  edge and 14˝ from the west table edge. The fourth hill is 
  centered at a point 14˝ from the south table edge and 14˝ from 
  the east table edge. The final hill is centered at a point 14˝ 
  from the south table edge and 14˝ from the west table edge.
  After placing the hills, players take turns placing terrain 
  normally. Remember, terrain features can be placed on the hills.
  At the start of every round beginning with the second, roll a 
  d6. On a 5 or 6, the floods come. During the round the floods 
  come, all non-elevated portions of the table are covered by 
  shallow water. After the end of that round, all non-elevated 
  portions of the table are considered to be rough terrain for 
  the rest of the game.
  floodland
  A great tide is coming that will wash our enemies from 
  these sacred lands.
  —Hierarch Severius
  
  44
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  10˝
  the Great divide
  Wheel your horses around the right flank and I’ll strike 
  their center. By Morrow, we will meet in the middle and 
  send them all screaming to Urcaen. 
  —General Adept Nemo 
  kinG of the hill
  With the high ground we assure their death. 
  —Lylyth, Shadow of Everblight
  unbound rules
  desCriPtion
  Many battles are fought over strategic locations of uncertain 
  value, but all military strategists know the importance of 
  taking a significant hill before securing ancillary vantage 
  points. 
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing terrain features, place a hill at least 10˝ in 
  diameter in the center of the table. No other terrain features 
  can be placed on this hill. After the hill is placed, players 
  take turns placing terrain normally.
  At the end of each round, a player scores 1 victory point if he 
  has more models on the hill than his opponent does. Ignore 
  models that are fleeing or out of formation, inert warjacks, 
  and wild warbeasts when counting models on the hill.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  In a three-player game, center the hill at a point in the 
  middle of the table 28˝ from the west table edge. 
  In a four-player game, the hill remains centered in the 
  middle of the table.
  desCriPtion
  The surest path to victory is to flank your opponent, to 
  divide his forces, and watch his army collapse under the 
  weight of your assault.
  sPeCial rules
  This scenario is played on a table turned lengthwise with 
  players deploying to the 4´ table edges.
  Models with Ambush cannot be placed within 30˝ of the 
  rear of your opponent’s deployment zone.
  A player scores 1 victory point at the end of his last turn 
  each round if he has one or more models in his opponent’s 
  deployment zone and his opponent has no models in his 
  deployment zone.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 2 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer play. 
  
  45
  10˝
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  36˝
  12˝
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  10˝
  Deployment Zone
  8˝
  5˝
  5˝
  8˝
  5˝
  5˝
  last stand
  Archdomina, their forces are surrounded. We begin the 
  final assault at your pleasure. 
  —Tyrant Xerxis
  no man’s land
  Supreme Kommandant, the only thing standing between 
  us and victory is a maze of trenches, death traps, and 
  those pitiful ruins our enemies call fortifications. It is 
  going to be a glorious day!
  —Karchev the Terrible
  desCriPtion
  The battlefield is a blasted wasteland divided by twisted 
  networks of winding trenches where death lurks behind 
  every corner. The only measure of victory is in territory 
  gained.
  sPeCial rules
  Each player begins with a 5˝ × 8˝ command trench in the 
  middle of his deployment zone, 5˝ from his rear table edge. 
  Players take turns each placing fifteen 3˝ × 5˝ trench terrain 
  features. Trench terrain features can be placed in contact 
  with other trench terrain features. After these trenches have 
  been placed, each player can place one additional terrain 
  feature no more than 10˝ in diameter on his side of the table 
  at least 10˝ from the nearest trench terrain feature.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game at the end of any of his turns if he 
  has more models completely in his opponent’s command 
  trench than his opponent has in that trench. Ignore models 
  that are fleeing or out of formation, inert warjacks, and wild 
  warbeasts when counting models in a command trench. A 
  player also wins the game when he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer games.
  desCriPtion
  Last Stand is a desperate battle for survival. Surrounded and 
  cut off from support, one army prepares for the onslaught 
  of its enemies while the other moves to capitalize on its 
  fortunes or be destroyed in the attempt.
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing terrain, players each roll a d6. The high roller 
  chooses whether to be the attacker or the defender. 
  The attacker sets up first and takes the first turn, but his 
  models lose the Advance Deployment advantage.
  The defender’s deployment zone is a 12˝ × 36˝ area in the 
  southeast table edge. The attacker can deploy his forces 
  anywhere within 10˝ of the north and west table edges.
  The defender can place two terrain features up to 10˝ wide 
  within his deployment zone. After these two terrain features 
  are placed, players take turns placing terrain. The defender 
  cannot place terrain within either player’s deployment 
  zone, and the attacker cannot place terrain within the 
  defender’s deployment zone.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer games.
  
  46
  10˝
  10˝
  18˝
  5˝
  Deployment Zone
  Deployment Zone
  18˝
  unbound rules
  oCCuPation
  Only two blocks of blasted and burning buildings stand 
  between us and the enemy. However, my orders say 
  to take and hold this town and that is exactly what I 
  intend to do.
  —Captain Kara Sloan
  At the end of each round starting with the second, a player 
  scores 1 victory point if he has more models completely 
  in the area of the Town Square than his opponent. Ignore 
  models that are fleeing or out of formation, inert warjacks, 
  and wild warbeasts when determining models in the area 
  of the Town Square.
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when he has 3 victory points or if he 
  has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  In a three-player game, center the Town Square at a point 
  in the middle of the table 28˝ from the west table edge. The 
  Town Square remains centered in the middle of the table in 
  a four-player game.
  desCriPtion
  This battle takes place within the sprawling confines of a 
  small town. Its outer defenses are breached, and two great 
  armies now rush to secure the town before it is consumed 
  by the flames of war.
  sPeCial rules
  In the center of the table is an 18˝ × 18˝ area representing 
  the Town Square. In the middle of the Town Square is 
  5˝-diameter raised fountain. The fountain area is shallow 
  water that provides cover. Place eight 4˝ × 6˝ structures 
  around the Town Square as shown on the map. These 
  structures are ARM 16 and collapse after taking 80 points 
  of damage.
  Players then take turns placing terrain normally. Each 
  player must place at least three terrain features, which is 
  limited to structures, ruins, walls, and up to one forest. 
  Remember that terrain features cannot be placed within 3˝ 
  of another terrain feature. Additionally, no terrain features 
  can be placed within the Town Square.
  
  47
  sCorChed earth
  Leave no stone standing. It will be as if the elements 
  themselves passed judgment upon our enemies. 
  —Krueger the Stormwrath
  After the five structures are placed, the defender can place 
  up to three additional terrain features. The attacker can then 
  place up to two terrain features. Remember that a terrain 
  feature cannot be placed within 3˝ of another terrain feature, 
  including a structure.
  The defender deploys his models first and takes the first turn. 
  viCtorY Conditions
  The attacker wins when three of the structures are collapsed 
  or if he has the only remaining warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in 
  play. The defender wins if at the end of the fifth round three 
  structures remain standing or if he has the only remaining 
  warcaster(s) or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  This scenario is not suitable for multiplayer games.
  desCriPtion
  This battle fully embraces the spirit of total war. One 
  army defends a fortified base, settlement, or encampment 
  while their enemies attempt to destroy every structure left 
  standing.
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing terrain, players each roll a d6. The high roller 
  chooses whether to be the attacker or the defender. 
  Before deploying, the defender places five structures 
  within 20˝ of the center of the table but not within 5˝ of a 
  deployment zone. He must place three of these structures 
  completely on his own side of the table and the other two 
  completely on the attacker’s side of the table. The structures 
  cannot be smaller than 3˝ × 5˝ or larger than 6˝ × 8˝, are 
  ARM 18, and collapse after taking 100 points of damage. 
  
  48
  Whether or not the treasure is found, the model’s activation 
  ends immediately after the special action is resolved.
  Once a model locates the treasure, the treasure will move 
  with that model. It may be helpful to place a marker next to 
  the model currently carrying the treasure. 
  A friendly warrior model B2B with the model carrying the 
  treasure can make a special action to take the treasure. The 
  treasure can change hands this way only once each turn.
  If the model carrying the treasure is destroyed or removed 
  from play, mark the location of the center of the model’s 
  base at the time it left play. This is the new location of 
  the treasure. If the model carrying the treasure moves or 
  is placed by any means other than advancing, it drops 
  the treasure, which remains on the table centered on the 
  model’s location before moving or being placed. 
  If the treasure is on the table and not being carried by 
  model, a warrior model in B2B contact with the treasure can 
  perform a special action to pick it up. 
  viCtorY Conditions
  A player wins the game when the treasure is within his 
  deployment zone or if he has the only remaining warcaster(s) 
  or warlock(s) in play.
  multiPlaYer Game
  In multiplayer games each player places only two ruins. In 
  a four-player game, the ruins can be placed within 22˝ of 
  the center of the table.
  desCriPtion
  It is a race for vast riches, ancient artifacts, or secret lore 
  as rival armies compete to unearth and retrieve hidden 
  treasures.
  sPeCial rules
  Before placing any other terrain features, players take turns 
  each placing two 4˝ × 6˝ ruins anywhere not within 18˝ of 
  the back edge of a deployment zone. These ruins cannot 
  be placed within 5˝ of another ruin. After the ruins have 
  been placed, players take turns each placing two additional 
  terrain features.
  Ruins are rough terrain. A model within the area of a ruin 
  gains cover.
  In this scenario, players are competing to locate and retrieve 
  a treasure. To find the treasure, players must have their 
  models search the ruins.
  Models cannot begin the game within the area of a ruin.
  A player can have one of his warrior models search a ruin 
  if the only models in the ruin are his and the searching 
  model began its activation completely within the ruin. To 
  search the ruin, the model must make a special action while 
  completely within the ruin. When a model makes a special 
  action to search a ruin, roll a d6. On a 6 the treasure has been 
  found. Each ruin can be searched only once. If the treasure 
  has not yet been found when the last ruin is searched, 
  that search automatically results in finding the treasure. 
  unbound rules
  Players should strive to keep their forces mobile in this 
  scenario. going for a warcaster kill may be rewarding in 
  the short term, but the real prize here is the treasure. as 
  ruins are eliminated as hiding places and the potential 
  locations become increasingly limited, you will want to 
  reposition your models to concentrate on those ruins that 
  remain unsearched. it could take quite a while to reveal 
  which ruin contains the treasure, so plan your end game 
  accordingly! 
  keeP yoUr eyeS on tHe Prize!
  treasure hunt
  If it falls into the wrong hands it could change the 
  course of history…
  —Major Victoria Haley
  
  49
  theme forCes
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Reduce the point cost of Stormguard units by 1.
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Stormwall 
  colossals.
  Benefit: After deployment but before the start of the 
  game, you can place any number of your Stormwalls’ 
  Lightning Pods anywhere within 20˝ of the rear edge of 
  your deployment zone.
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Increase the FA of non-character cavalry units and 
  solos by 1.
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Exemplar 
  Venger units.
  Benefit: You gain +1 on your starting roll for the game.
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes two or more units.
  Benefit: Your deployment zone is extended 2˝ forward.
  tier 4
  Requirements: The army includes a character warjack with 
  Immunity: Electricity.
  Benefit: During your first Control Phase of the game, 
  warjacks in Nemo’s battlegroup are each allocated 1 
  focus point.
  tier 3
  Requirements: Your army includes Fire of Salvation.
  Benefit: Reduce the point cost of heavy warjacks without 
  ranged weapons by 1.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Your army includes one or more Choir of 
  Menoth units.
  Benefit: For each Choir of Menoth unit in the army, one 
  heavy warjack in the army gains Advance Move. (Before 
  the start of the game but after both players have deployed, 
  a model with Advance Move can make a full advance.)
  Intercessor Kreoss
  REVElAtIoNS oF tHE CREAtoR 
  WarjaCks: Lancers, Cygnar 
  non-character warjacks with  
  Immunity: Electricity, Thunderhead
  units: Field Mechaniks, Cygnar units with  
  Immunity: Electricity
  solos: Journeyman Warcaster, Cygnar solos with 
  Immunity: Electricity
  battle enGines: Storm Strider
  WarjaCks: Protectorate non-
  character warjacks, Fire of Salvation
  units: Choir of Menoth, Exemplar units, Protectorate 
  Cavalry units 
  solos: Reclaimers, Exemplar solos, Vassal solos
  battle enGines: Vessel of Judgment
  Permission is hereby granted to create reproductions of this page for personal, non-commercial use only.
  Artificer GenerAl nemo
  lIgHtNINg WAR 
  
  50
  Vladimir Tzepesci, GreaT prince of Umbrey
  CHARgE oF tHE HoRSEloRd 
  Asphyxious the hellbringer
  oRCHEStRAtIoNS oF ANNIHIlAtIoN
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Increase the FA of non-character cavalry solos, 
  units, and battle engines by 1.
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes two or more cavalry units.
  Benefit: Warjacks in this army gain +2 SPD during your first 
  turn of the game.
  tier 3
  Requirements: This army includes two or more cavalry solos.
  Benefit: You gain +1 on your starting roll for the game.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Vladimir’s battlegroup includes Drago.
  Benefit: Reduce the cost of warjacks in this army by 1.
  WarjaCks: Khador non-
  character warjacks, Drago
  units: Battle Mechaniks, Khador cavalry units
  solos: War Dog, Khador cavalry solos
  battle enGines: Gun Carriage
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Add a Necrotech solo free of cost for each helljack 
  or colossal in the army. These solos ignore FA restrictions. 
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Pistol 
  Wraith solos.
  Benefit: Pistol Wraith solos gain Advance Deployment 
  .
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes three or more units.
  Benefit: For each unit in the army, one model can begin the 
  game with a corpse or soul token.
  tier 4
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Kraken 
  colossals.
  Benefit: Your deployment zone is extended 2˝ forward.
  WarjaCks: Cryx non-
  character warjacks, Cankerworm, Malice
  units: Bile Thralls, Mechanithralls, Necrosurgeon & 
  Stitch Thralls, Soulhunters, Withershadow Combine
  solos: Warwitch Sirens, non-character Undead 
  Cryx solos
  battle enGines: Wraith Engine
  Permission is hereby granted to create reproductions of this page for personal, non-commercial use only.
  theme forCes
  
  51
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: Dawnguard Destor units in this army become 
  FA U. Additionally, reduce the point cost of Dawnguard 
  Destor units by 1.
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Dawnguard 
  Sentinel units.
  Benefit: 
  Dawnguard 
  Sentinel 
  units 
  gain 
  Advance 
  Deployment 
  .
  tier 1
  Requirements: The army can include only the models 
  listed above.
  Benefit: One unit in this army gains Advance Deployment 
  .
  tier 2
  Requirements: The army includes two or more units with 
  ranged weapons.
  Benefit: For every two units in the army, place one trench 
  template anywhere completely within 20˝ of the back edge 
  of Ossrum’s deployment zone after terrain has been placed 
  but before either player deploys his army. Trench templates 
  cannot be placed within 3˝ of a terrain feature but can be 
  placed within 3˝ of each other.
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes one or more Dawnguard 
  Destor Thanes.
  Benefit: Dawnguard Destor units and solos gain +2 SPD 
  during your first turn of the game.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Vyros’ battlegroup includes one or more 
  heavy warjacks.
  Benefit: During your first Control Phase of the game, your 
  warjacks are each allocated 1 focus point.
  tier 3
  Requirements: The army includes two or more solos.
  Benefit: Friendly models/units can begin the game affected 
  by Ossrum’s upkeep spells. These spells and their targets 
  must be declared before either player sets up models. 
  Ossrum does not pay focus to upkeep these spells during 
  your first turn.
  tier 4
  Requirements: Ossrum’s battlegroup includes three or 
  more warjacks.
  Benefit: Warjacks in Ossrum’s battlegroup gain +2 SPD 
  during your first turn of the game.
  Vyros, IncIssar of the DawnguarD
  guARdIANS oF tHE gAtE 
  General Ossrum
  StAtE oF WAR 
  WarjaCks: Retribution non-
  character myrmidons with force field 
  damage boxes
  units: Dawnguard units 
  solos: Arcanists, Dawnguard solos
  Permission is hereby granted to create reproductions of this page for personal, non-commercial use only.
  WarjaCks: Mercenary Rhulic 
  non-character warjacks
  units: Mercenary Rhulic units
  solos: Mercenary Rhulic solos
  
  52
  Corvis
  The Khadorans had been either unable or unwilling to 
  capitalize on the injuries sustained by General Nemo that had 
  forced him from the field. Perhaps it had been enough that he 
  had succeeded in dismantling the cannon emplacement they 
  had erected to crack Corvis’ city walls. Whatever the reason, 
  although the Khadorans remained encamped near the city, 
  they had yet to stage a major assault; it was clear they were 
  holding back. Based on reports from Captain Kraye, Nemo 
  suspected the force arrayed against the city was not as large 
  as it had first appeared. They actually might never have 
  expected to seize Corvis, only to pin down its defenders. If 
  that had been their goal, they had succeeded.
  While the enemy had not yet committed to a full-on attack, 
  their sporadic artillery fire and limited engagements had 
  exacted a toll, and the city’s churches were crowded with 
  beds of the wounded even as its graveyards took in the 
  dead. Corvis’ stout walls had been steadily reinforced and 
  outfitted with an array of powerful cannons over the years 
  after the skorne invasion of 603 AR, but the sprawling city 
  was divided into three sections by the junctions of the 
  Dragon’s Tongue and Black Rivers, and some areas were 
  more exposed than others to artillery fire. In addition, the 
  population had swelled dramatically since the Llaelese 
  War as refugees had flooded in from the north. Newcomers 
  unable to find a place within the city proper had erected 
  a shantytown outside the walls along the main roads, 
  and these areas were extremely vulnerable. Shells fired 
  at and over the battlements exploded with devastating 
  consequences. 
  Nemo had ordered his forces to engage whenever Khador 
  violated their perimeter, keenly aware of the range of their 
  bombards and mortars. Though effective, his tactic was 
  reactionary. Nemo knew he was doing precisely what the 
  Khadorans wanted by staying fortified here rather than 
  reinforcing other embattled garrisons along the river. 
  Urgent reports arrived at a steady pace, describing both 
  Khadoran and Cryxian assaults elsewhere. Knowing this 
  did not change Nemo’s main priority, however, which was 
  safeguarding Corvis and its inhabitants. 
  He had no choice but to wait for the enemy to make a 
  critical mistake. When Captain Kraye sent word that the 
  Khadorans had established a small strike force south of the 
  city on the west bank to block the river, he hoped his chance 
  had arrived. The enemy clearly sought to choke the city’s 
  vital supply line from Caspia, but to do so they would need 
  to hold—which would give him the opportunity to confront 
  them. Even were he not eager to do so, he could not allow 
  the Khadorans to block the river, and not simply because 
  of his supply lines. What the Khadorans could not know 
  was that the Stormwall colossals were expected to arrive 
  any day, shipped upriver from Caspia. And they would be 
  at their most vulnerable while aboard those riverboats.
  As a precaution he sent a patrol of storm lances to sweep the 
  east bank of the river, but his main army marched from the 
  southern gates on the west. A dozen warjacks strode ahead 
  of quickly widening lines of blue-armored storm knights 
  in turn backed by hundreds of long gunners with readied 
  rifles. Storm Chaser Adept Caitlin Finch stayed by Nemo’s 
  side as he sent his mind into his machines. She clearly 
  did not approve of his return to the field so soon after the 
  injuries he had sustained from the Cryxian Stalkers. While 
  he appreciated her concern, he could not afford to be idle. 
  The battle-chaplain had done much to erase his wounds, 
  and they troubled him no more than the constant aches in 
  his joints he had been ignoring for years.
  Finch activated the voltaic coils on her back, which glowed 
  blue as they sent spikes of crackling energy to connect with 
  the nearly identical coils on Nemo’s warcaster armor. The 
  air around them thrummed with power. Thus linked, she 
  could fine-tune the reaction timing of his warjacks. As she 
  made adjustments to the complex apparatus, she asked 
  sweetly, “Did you ever consider that your new title might 
  be an attempt by King Leto to encourage you to return to 
  your research?”
  “I doubt that’s what he had in mind,” he responded dryly. 
  After a three-hour march, they saw the Khadorans. Enemy 
  ’jacks had hastily erected cover by hauling several riverboats 
  ashore to create a makeshift wall against the embankment. 
  cyGnAr
  OPENING OLD WOUNDS
  
  53
  A number of smaller field guns and mortar teams took 
  cover behind it, presumably intended to threaten Cygnaran 
  riverboats but now facing Nemo’s direction. These soon 
  began to fire, sending explosive shells arcing toward them. 
  West of the boat wall stood a copse of trees from which Winter 
  Guard rifles erupted, taking a toll on the nearest knights. 
  Cygnaran long gunners responded in kind, and Nemo sent 
  a pair of Sentinels in that direction. He planned to focus the 
  rest of his force on the Man-O-War soldiers and heavy ’jacks 
  ahead, the hard center of the Khadoran blockade. 
  At his urging Defenders hammered shells into the nearest 
  Destroyer, while Stormclads strode to meet the Marauder 
  and Juggernaut already advancing. He could see his storm 
  lances confronting the Khadorans across the river. Winter 
  Guard on that side had been busily securing a heavy iron 
  chain across the water that stretched from a great metal 
  post sunk into the earth. Behind this chain and obstructing 
  the river were a dozen boats lashed together to serve as 
  an improvised bridge—clearly the means by which the 
  Khadorans had crossed the Black River.
  Nemo’s mind guided his heavy warjacks as they crashed 
  into their opposing counterparts with the screaming 
  of metal and steam engines pushed to their limits. He 
  effortlessly divided his mind among the machines, 
  perceiving them with a clarity that made it easy to react to 
  the smallest enemy motions. He knew his concentration was 
  aided considerably by Storm Chaser Finch’s presence; the 
  experimental equipment she bore enabled her to tap into his 
  own connection with the ’jacks and filter the information 
  they fed back to him. By her efforts he found it considerably 
  easier to allocate his attention.
  A bullet barely deflected off the flickering surface of his 
  power field, while another clanged into the raised shield 
  of a Sentinel moving protectively ahead of Finch. Two of 
  the nearest Stormguards were less fortunate and fell to 
  precisely aimed head shots. With a flickering thought, Nemo 
  directed one of his Lancers to round the nearest riverboat of 
  the improvised wall as its arc node sparked to life. Seeing 
  through its eyes, he noticed a squad of Widowmakers 
  perched along the upper surface, peering through rifle 
  scopes. Runes manifested around his hand as arcane power 
  flowed across the Lancer’s arc node and leaped through 
  the nearest Widowmakers. Lightning leapt from one to the 
  next, causing their bodies to sieze and smoke. 
  Raising his staff, Nemo sent electricity plunging from the 
  darkening sky to strike among the Winter Guard crewing 
  the nearest mortar. Others rushed to take cover among the 
  half-shattered bulkheads of their fortifications and fire on 
  the approaching Stormguard and Stormblades. 
  With several blows of its generator blade, one of Nemo’s 
  Stormclads reduced the nearest Marauder to scrap. Nemo 
  took charge of its cortex and sent it crashing through the 
  nearest boat in the barricade with an explosion of splintered 
  wood. It laid about with its blade as lightning spilled over to 
  electrify the nearest riflemen. Stormblades followed behind 
  it to carve through the nearest Man-O-War shocktroopers, 
  although several were cut down as they advanced. Finch 
  stepped forward just enough to send additional lightning 
  into the remaining guardsmen. 
  Nemo turned his attention to the chaotic clash in the 
  nearby stand of trees, where Stormguard and long gunners 
  sought to root out the riflemen. Suddenly he sensed 
  something across the river: the unmistakable presence of an 
  approaching warcaster. 
  He stepped to the river and peered across its swiftly flowing 
  depths. The Winter Guard manning the chain post had been 
  ruthlessly ridden down by the storm lances. The Cygnarans 
  pulled up short, however, as new arrivals poured over the 
  nearest hills, including Winter Guard, Iron Fang pikemen 
  and uhlans, and additional warjacks. The woman who led 
  them bore a mechanikal scythe, and Nemo recognized her 
  instantly as Forward Kommander Sorscha Kratikoff.
  The storm lances fired searing bolts of galvanic power into 
  the front ranks of this new force, but they were massively 
  outnumbered. With a shout the Cygnaran captain attempted 
  to lead his men upriver toward open ground, but Kratikoff 
  was on them in an instant. Pale blue runes surrounded her 
  as a wave of supernatural cold seized the nearest horses in 
  an icy grip. They could do nothing as pikemen charged into 
  them with explosive blasting pikes, blowing apart horse 
  and human flesh with merciless efficiency.
  Nemo gathered his will. Kratikoff looked up and caught 
  his eye, likely sensing his power. She shouted orders and 
  mortar crews rushed to ready their weapons to fire across 
  the river. Nemo threw a lever on the side of his armor, and 
  its coils surged with blue energy. His armor thrummed 
  as he fed his own power into the customized emitters, 
  pushing them to the verge of overload as the sky above 
  darkened. He raised his tempest staff while stretching out 
  with his will. A swirling vortex of grey energy manifested 
  above the mortar crews, and Nemo triggered the switch 
  on his tempest staff to send forth an outpouring of voltaic 
  power. The clouds buckled and lightning crashed into the 
  Khadoran crewmen, killing several. Shouting in alarm, the 
  Winter Guard drew back. The two warcasters stared at one 
  another with palpable hatred.
  With the nearest Khadorans largely neutralized, Nemo’s 
  soldiers regrouped near him and took stock of the enemy on 
  the opposite bank. Officers called knights to order and set 
  up a perimeter while long gunners lined up and prepared to 
  fire. Nemo said to the nearest senior officer, “Major, be sure 
  our men stay out of mortar range.”
  
  54
  “Yes, General.” He conveyed the orders to his subordinates. 
  The mortars outranged them, making retaliation impossible, 
  and the river stood between them. 
  Storm Chaser Finch asked, “What now?”
  “A good question, Adept,” Nemo said. “They seem serious 
  about blockading the river.” He was glad to have finally 
  drawn out Kratikoff, who had proven elusive in these 
  battles, but the situation was far from ideal. The intervening 
  ship bridge could be destroyed should either side attempt a 
  crossing. “Looks to be a stalemate.”
  Finch thought a moment. “The only safe crossing we can 
  use to reach them is back at Corvis. Even if we destroy the 
  blockade, the Khadorans might escape into the Marches 
  or find some other way to cross before we can regroup to 
  follow. We’ll never catch them.”
  Nemo nodded, wishing he had brought Captain Kraye to 
  lead his ’jacks and cavalry to confront the enemy on the 
  opposite side of the river. He felt the needless deaths of those 
  storm lances keenly. Kratikoff was singularly dangerous, 
  though; skilled as Kraye was, he might have met his death 
  just as easily.
  The fact remained that so long as they were here, the 
  Khadorans threatened the arrival of the colossals. He was 
  just about to order the destruction of the boats blocking the 
  river when another mental twinge indicated the approach 
  of a more familiar warcaster, and soon he heard the sound 
  of hooves. Looking north, he saw Captain Jeremiah Kraye 
  galloping toward him as though summoned by Nemo’s 
  stray thought. He was followed closely by a pair each of 
  Hunters, Chargers, and Sentinels, all moving at impressive 
  speed. “Captain Kraye, your arrival is well timed,” Nemo 
  greeted him as he neared. 
  Kraye’s steed, Malagant, slowed to a stop with an exhalation 
  of breath, his sweat turning to steam in the cold air. The 
  newly arrived warjacks quickly formed a protective cordon 
  around both of the warcasters, gleaming eyes staring 
  intently at the nearest Khadorans. 
  Not sparing the enemy a glance, Kraye said, “Before you 
  do anything else, you’ll want to read this.” He extended a 
  courier satchel bearing the stamp of Lord General Duggan. 
  Kraye apologetically added, “The ranger who brought it 
  killed his horse to get here. I felt obliged to take a look to 
  see if it was worth interrupting your operation.”
  Nemo’s scowl intensified as he opened the satchel and 
  absorbed the contents of the pages it held. The orders were 
  authentic. Any suspicion he might have had was neutralized 
  by the presence of several of the secret code words inserted 
  into all legitimate communications between commanding 
  officers. Nemo cursed explosively—an uncharacteristic 
  outburst that prompted Finch to stare at him, raising an 
  eyebrow. He shook his head, reading the words again before 
  looking across to where the Khadorans were adjusting their 
  lines. “Captain, how much do you know about Forward 
  Kommander Sorscha Kratikoff?”
  Malagant pawed the earth and turned at the subtle nudging 
  of the warcaster’s legs so Kraye could follow Nemo’s gaze. 
  “Conversant with her tactics. Expect you know as much 
  as I do.”
  Nemo grimaced but did not take his eyes from the other 
  shore. “How likely do you think it that she will honor a flag 
  of truce long enough for me to cross those boats to tell her 
  we are now allies?”
  Kraye frowned thoughtfully before saying, “I’d call it fifty-fifty.”
  Artificer General Nemo cautiously made his way to the 
  small riverboat at the center of the blockade between the 
  two shores, well within range of both armies. If Sorscha 
  Kratikoff joined him, as he hoped, the destruction of the ship 
  beneath them would place them in equal peril. Adept Finch 
  had reminded Nemo just how poorly his voltaic armor and 
  weaponry would respond to immersion in the river.
  The Khadorans could simply have ignored Nemo’s request 
  to parley and unleashed a hail of mortar and Destroyer 
  fire to erase him from Caen. He was keenly aware of 
  this as he awaited the approach of his counterpart. The 
  intelligence Nemo had on Sorscha Kratikoff did not 
  reassure; while she was highly regarded by her superiors, 
  some of her commendations were for acts of ruthlessness. 
  He suspected killing a Cygnaran general was worth a 
  medal, possibly two.
  After a brief delay, however, she crossed alone to meet him, 
  moving with admirable grace and poise across the intervening 
  vessels. The eyes that met his were piercing and unflinching, 
  and it required no empathy to perceive the anger simmering 
  behind them. He could clearly see the volume of ordnance 
  trained on their position and recalled from Kratikoff’s CRS 
  files how swiftly she could move if she wished. He was fairly 
  certain they were not both at equal risk.
  A brief and halting exchange made it clear that her Cygnaran 
  was better than his Khadoran. “What is the reason behind 
  this parley, General?” she asked with a frown, staring 
  unblinkingly.
  Nemo pressed his lips together as he tried to find a way to 
  put it into words. Strange as it had been to read the orders, 
  speaking them aloud was worse. “I’ve been ordered to cease 
  hostilities,” he said, feeling a muscle in his cheek twitch. 
  “Lord General Duggan and Supreme Kommandant Irusk 
  have come to an . . . arrangement.”
  
  55
  “What?” she asked in clear disbelief. “How do you mean, 
  ‘arrangement’?” As he stared at her, Nemo considered 
  how perfectly Kratikoff embodied the Khadoran ideal of a 
  soldier—someone who had entirely given over her life to 
  become a weapon of war.
  “I expect your orders will arrive soon. It seemed prudent to 
  warn you before more needless lives were lost. Duggan and 
  Irusk have arranged for a temporary alliance.” He found it 
  hard to say the words with conviction, and perhaps his own 
  discomfort convinced her he spoke truth. “They have plans 
  for our combined forces to join an operation against Cryx in 
  the Thornwood.”
  He knew it was not from a lack of comprehension that she 
  required him to repeat himself; her face showed her own 
  difficulties digesting this information. Her incredulity was 
  almost reassuring. 
  She was reluctant to make any lasting agreements until her 
  own orders had arrived but accepted a provisional cease-
  fire. After some tense discussion, they decided to rejoin their 
  respective armies closer to Corvis. With the sun setting in 
  the west, she finally consented to remove the river blockade 
  but agreed to an exchange of the dead for burial before it 
  was dismantled. Nemo recognized several faces among the 
  fallen knights, including a lieutenant whose father had been 
  an old friend from Highgate. 
  The march back to the city was solemn, with each side ill 
  at ease. Men gripped their rifles closely and glowered at 
  the enemy ranks marching on the other side of the water. 
  Kraye galloped ahead to Corvis to pass the cease-fire 
  orders to the wall garrisons and instructed their officers to 
  strip the battlements of any soldier who was not a veteran. 
  The last thing they needed was accidental fire from a 
  nervous recruit. 
  The Khadorans on the opposite bank rejoined their legions 
  in the Widower’s Wood north of the city. Kraye was able 
  to gain a better sense of their numbers and composition, 
  and his reports told Nemo they represented more soldiers 
  than he had originally credited, perhaps even an entire 
  kommand. Had they committed themselves, they could 
  have made life quite difficult for the besieged. Nemo 
  decided the forward kommander had been buying time 
  until additional forces arrived.
  Though welcome, the reprieve from fighting in no way 
  reduced tensions among those manning the walls. Every 
  soldier remained at high alert, having little confidence in the 
  stability of the inexplicable alliance. The next day, Kraye’s 
  rangers spotted a Greylord on horseback approaching 
  the Khadoran encampment. Countless eyes watched and 
  waited until Sorscha stepped from her tent alongside 
  the new arrival. At her signal, Winter Guard across the 
  perimeter slung readied rifles and blunderbusses onto their 
  backs, while artillery crewmen stepped sharply back from 
  their mortars and cannons and stood at attention. Kratikoff 
  left her escort to approach the walls of Corvis alone, and 
  Nemo went to join her. 
  She did not reveal much of what had been relayed from 
  Irusk, only acknowledged that their orders required 
  cooperation and that they needed to bring in their 
  command staffs to plan their next steps together. After a 
  brief delay the unprecedented council convened: Sorscha, 
  two kommanders, and a half-dozen kovniks standing 
  for Khador; Nemo, General Galt Langworth, and their 
  subordinate commanders for Cygnar. Translators added to 
  their number to facilitate discussions of the logistical issues 
  of advancing together to the rendezvous site. Nemo held 
  reservations about the course of action that had been laid 
  out by Irusk and Lord General Duggan—which were based 
  on limited intelligence on the enemy in addition to lacking 
  King Leto’s authorization—but he was careful not to reveal 
  any hesitation to the Khadorans. 
  Duggan and Irusk had instructed them to march immediately 
  into the Thornwood. Forces stationed at Stonebridge would 
  receive identical instructions, meaning that the majority of 
  Cygnar’s First Army as well as Khador’s 2nd were being 
  sent into the forest to root out Cryx. The idea was as bold as 
  it was terrifying. Nemo had fought Cryx too long to expect 
  the operation to go smoothly, even without the possibility 
  of “friendly” fire between Khadoran and Cygnaran 
  soldiers. The nations had only limited awareness of Cryx’s 
  numbers and disposition, and the enemy’s extensive use 
  of underground passages would give them a strong local 
  terrain advantage.
  Despite his doubts, it was not long before Nemo started to 
  imagine the possibilities of combining their forces against 
  Cryx. Such solidarity was unheard of—even during the 
  Scharde Invasions King Vinter IV had rejected the idea 
  of using diplomacy to involve the other kingdoms along 
  the western coast. Nemo had long regretted this, feeling 
  that the mainland powers working together might have 
  been able to entirely eliminate Cryx as a threat to future 
  generations. At the same time, he knew this particular 
  alliance held great potential for harm. Undoubtedly, the 
  empress would exploit circumstances to her advantage if 
  she saw an opportunity. But he had his orders, Morrow 
  help them all.
  he felt the needless deaths 
  of those storm lanCes keenlY. 
  kratikoff Was sinGularlY 
  danGerous.
  
  56
  Even operating with the utmost urgency, it took some time 
  to muster the 2nd and 5th Divisions out the north gate and 
  make ready for the march. Two days into the process, Nemo 
  received news of a highly anticipated arrival. He and Adept 
  Finch rushed to the largest pier, just north of the city walls 
  on the west bank of the Black River. Cygnaran engineers 
  had recently inspected and reinforced the pier, knowing 
  the reinforcements delivered here would be immediately 
  deployed against enemies to the north. Nemo had planned 
  operations that would secure the area against Khadoran 
  interference during the landing; now such measures were 
  no longer necessary. The Khadorans could observe from 
  their encampment, situated only slightly farther than the 
  Cygnaran divisions preparing to march into the Thornwood.
  Two enormous military riverboats approached the piers, 
  having made their stately way through Corvis with 
  their escorting gunboats. All the vessels bore prominent 
  Cygnaran Army insignia. Drawn by the sight of the massive 
  boats as they passed, a small crowd of citizens had gathered 
  to watch them. Among the first to disembark once the lead 
  vessel docked was Captain E. Dominic Darius, who strode 
  in his armored, steam-powered rig across the heavy ramps 
  lowered from the ship onto the pier. He offered a salute and 
  a wide smile to Nemo as he approached. “Are you ready, 
  General?” Great pride was obvious in his voice as he said, 
  “I present . . . the Stormwall!”
  The boat’s own steam-powered cranes maneuvered into 
  position as its large central cargo hold cracked open. A 
  dozen crewmen scrambled to guide dangling hooks from 
  the cranes and attach them to the enormous warjack chassis 
  taking up most of the ship’s hold. The great warjack’s 
  engine was ignited and smoke poured from its exhaust 
  even as the steam engines that powered the cranes roared to 
  life. The cables went taut as the first Stormwall was pulled 
  from the depths of the hold and carefully maneuvered onto 
  the steel-plated deck of the reinforced pier. Nemo watched 
  with some apprehension, praying that the weighty machine 
  would not crash through. 
  The pier held—and the first of Cygnar’s new colossals 
  stood before him. Nemo felt overwhelmed for a moment 
  with the tangible reality of his vision made manifest. Seeing 
  its specifications drawn on paper was quite different from 
  seeing it in person, and the mighty machine took his breath 
  away. He could hear the sound of its storm chambers 
  cycling up to readiness, drowning out the cheers of the 
  nearest watching Cygnarans. The coils on both shoulders 
  glowed with energy, and its head turned to face him, eyes 
  alight with machine awareness. It opened and clenched its 
  metal hands as if savoring motion after the long journey.
  “Magnificent,” Nemo breathed. “Fine work, Dominic. Very 
  fine indeed.” The second of the larger army transport ships 
  had pulled into its berth along the neighboring pier, and 
  another Stormwall was being hauled onto land.
  His face glowing, Darius seemed abashed at this praise. 
  “Your plans made it possible. I never could have dreamed of a 
  machine on this scale if you hadn’t shown me the drawings.”
  Nemo scanned the lines of the machine with a critical 
  eye, making an effort to be analytical and suppress his 
  initial amazement. “I wish we’d been able to implement 
  an entirely storm-driven engine, allowing for more 
  voltaic weaponry. Someday, perhaps. But you were right 
  to recommend the integrated approach and relying on 
  proven weaponry.” He took in the heavy cannons and 
  cyclone chain guns affixed to either side of the colossal’s 
  central chassis. Sparks played along the Stormwall’s 
  coils and flickered along the mechanisms on the backs 
  of its oversized fists. On a purely technical level, the 
  Thunderhead was more advanced, but as an engineering 
  accomplishment, this project went beyond the scope of 
  anything they had ever done.
  “With that much mass, steam was the way to go,” Darius 
  said. His enthusiasm was evident as he continued, “The 
  steam engines we made for these are simply beautiful—
  the most efficient large steam engines ever built by human 
  hands. Someday I’ll have to show you at the Armory. And 
  with the foundries in place, the cost for repeated production 
  is a fraction of what it would have been with an all-galvanic 
  approach. Never fear, those voltaic fists pack a wallop. And 
  you’ll love the lightning pods. We managed to get fifteen 
  extra yards of launching distance, and they work perfectly 
  as voltaic conduits.” 
  Nemo reached out with his mind to touch the machine’s 
  cortex, which was of an entirely new design. He could not 
  actually connect, as its locks were sealed around its link 
  with Darius. He remembered the day he had been inspired 
  to initiate this project, when he had touched the cerebral 
  matrix of the demolished colossal lying adjacent to the 
  Temple Garrodh. Upon his recovery from that battle, he had 
  set Darius to work overseeing the construction of the forges 
  and assembly factories in Caspia necessary to see his vision 
  become a reality. It was a tremendous undertaking, one that 
  several times had seemed on the verge of failure. He only 
  wished it had been completed sooner: what should have 
  been the unveiling of a tremendous advantage for Cygnar 
  had become an arms race with its enemies. 
  nemo felt overWhelmed  
  for a moment With the 
  tanGible realitY of his  
  vision made manifest.
  
  57
  He was so caught up in thinking about the Stormwall 
  that he did not realize when they were joined by another. 
  It took Caitlin Finch’s surprised intake of breath to tear 
  him from his reverie, then Darius followed her gaze and 
  nodded respectfully toward the arrival. Nemo turned to 
  find Major Victoria Haley stepping onto the pier, dressed 
  in her warcaster armor. She exchanged brief greetings with 
  Darius and Finch, then looked to Nemo. 
  Her skin had a decided pallor, and he could see shadows 
  under her eyes. He noted the way her living arm trembled 
  as she leaned on her mechanikal spear Echo for support. 
  What troubled him more was how her warcaster presence 
  felt faint, like a flickering candle. “You should be in bed,” 
  he said sternly.
  She stared back with proud defiance. “I heard about the 
  upcoming operation. I won’t be left behind.” 
  Darius sensed the tension and had the good grace to 
  withdraw, trying unsuccessfully to draw Adept Finch with 
  him. Nemo shook his head and said, “Victoria . . .” He 
  realized even as the word left his lips that he almost never 
  used her first name. Her scowl deepened. “You need rest,” 
  he continued. “You are in no condition to enter battle.”
  “You need me there,” Haley insisted. “I’m still a warcaster.” 
  Her Lancer Thorn stepped forward and spun its spear, a 
  complex move that suggested her guiding will. “You’ll 
  need every experienced officer—every warcaster—in the 
  fight ahead.”
  Nemo stared at her long and hard. Despite her demeanor he 
  sensed fragility behind her harrowed eyes. Excluding her 
  now might do her confidence lasting harm. Pragmatically, 
  she was right. Even without magic her ability to mentally 
  control multiple warjacks combined with extensive combat 
  experience against Cryx made her invaluable. After a long 
  silence he spoke again. “Confer with Vigilant Dolan. I will 
  consider the possibility only if he persuades me it will not 
  affect your recovery.”
  Her eyes still defiant, she opened her mouth to say 
  something but stopped, perhaps realizing she had achieved 
  a small victory. She swallowed and nodded before saying, 
  “I’ll find him at once.” She then turned on her heel and left, 
  Thorn following. Nemo could feel Caitlin’s eyes upon him 
  and offered a preemptive warning: “Nothing from you.”
  She ignored him, as always. “She should stay here, and 
  you know it. You’re letting sentiment allow you to put 
  one of Cygnar’s greatest assets at needless risk. She’s not 
  your daughter.”
  “You just crossed a line, Adept. Not another word.” 
  His voice was cold, and she finally looked away from 
  his glare. He glanced back at the departing warcaster, 
  thinking that at times the only way to help some people 
  learn was to let them make their own mistakes. Though 
  Haley had never truly failed, the impending battle would 
  afford ample opportunity.
  Sorscha Kratikoff stood rigidly atop a slight hill near the 
  Cygnaran tents, a spyglass set to her eye and her lips tightly 
  compressed. She found herself holding her breath as the 
  machine stepped forward. As the reality of it hit her, she 
  could feel her heart racing. 
  She had known they were coming; she ranked highly enough 
  to have received news of Khador’s own Conquests even 
  now being sent by train toward the war front. Yet it was one 
  thing to read of colossals in the abstract and another to view 
  one with her own eyes. Even from a distance, she could see 
  how small the nearest people looked as they stood at its 
  feet. The shape of the machine, with its rounded silhouette, 
  was typically Cygnaran, but the sense of menace and power 
  was inescapable. 
  Seeing the storm chambers accumulate power and send 
  ripples of electrical energy along the colossal’s coils 
  brought all-too-vivid memories of the recent clash; the 
  smell of ozone and burnt flesh was still fresh in her mind. 
  This was a new and sophisticated engine of death, and she 
  could not help but worry that the Conquests Khador had 
  so hastily built would not be able to stand against them. 
  She was unaccustomed to such doubt, but it was impossible 
  not to be moved by the sight of the colossal. Neither could 
  she avoid the thought that, had things gone differently, she 
  might have sent those boats to the bottom of the river along 
  with their dangerous cargo.
  She had to remind herself of her new orders. Cygnar’s new 
  colossal would fight at her side against Cryx, and for that 
  she should be grateful. Yet she found only small comfort 
  in the thought, even knowing it was better that the undead 
  should expend themselves against the machine before it 
  was eventually turned on the sons and daughters of the 
  Motherland. Such a prospect was, she knew, inevitable. 
  This alliance would not last. She shivered at the thought of 
  eventually confronting the towering warjack and seeing its 
  chain guns and cannons pointed at her as they roared to life.
  
  58
  FEAt: EyE oF tHE 
  StoRM 
  Every storm weapon in 
  Cygnar’s arsenal has its 
  roots in the work of Artificer 
  General Nemo, who knows 
  how to push them beyond 
  their normal limits. With 
  an outpouring of power, the 
  artificer general unlocks the 
  governors of every storm 
  chamber in his vicinity 
  to send these weapons 
  into keening overload and 
  unleash a torrent of voltaic 
  destruction. 
  While in Nemo’s control 
  area, friendly models gain 
  an additional die on electrical damage rolls 
  . Eye of the Storm 
  lasts for one turn. 
  NEMo 
   Immunity: Electricity
  lightning Field – When lightning arcs as a result of an attack 
  made by a friendly model in this model’s control area, ignore 
  models with Immunity: Electricity 
   when determining which 
  model the lightning arcs to.  
  overpower – During your Control Phase, after this model 
  replenishes its focus but before it allocates focus, this model can 
  spend focus to increase its control area for one round at 1 focus 
  point for each 1˝ increase. 
  lIgHtNINg StRIkE 
   damage type: Electricity
  lightning generator – When a model is hit with this weapon, 
  lightning arcs from that model to d3 consecutive additional 
  models. The lightning arcs to the nearest model it has not 
  already arced to within 4˝ of the last model it arced to, ignoring 
  this model. Each model the lightning arcs to suffers a POW 10 
  electrical damage roll 
  .  
  tEMPESt ACCuMulAtoR 
   Magical Weapon
   Reach
  disruption – A warjack hit loses its focus points and cannot be 
  allocated focus or channel spells for one round. 
  tACtICAl tIPS
  Chain Lightning, Lightning generator, and Lightning Shroud –  
  Damage from lightning arcs is not considered to have come from a 
  hit or by a melee or ranged attack.
  eLeCtrify – If the model that is affected by Electrify is destroyed by 
  the attack, Electrify expires before it is resolved and the attacker 
  does not suffer its effects. 
  faiL Safe – When all its damage boxes have been marked, the 
  warjack is still wrecked as normal.
  forCe hammer – Incorporeal models are not slammed. They just 
  suffer a damage roll. 
  CHAIN lIgHtNINg 
  3 
  10 
  – 
  10 
  No yES 
  A model hit by Chain Lightning suffers a POW 10 electrical damage roll 
   , 
  and lightning arcs from that model to d6 consecutive additional models. The 
  lightning arcs to the nearest model it has not already arced to within 4˝ of 
  the last model it arced to, ignoring this model. Each model the lightning 
  arcs to suffers a POW 10 electrical damage roll 
  . 
  ElECtRIFy 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  If target friendly model is hit by a melee attack, after the attack is resolved 
  the attacker is pushed d3˝ directly away from the affected model and 
  suffers an unboostable POW 14 electrical damage roll 
  , then Electrify 
  expires. 
  FAIl SAFE 
  3 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly warjack gains +2 ARM and does not suffer the effects of 
  crippled systems. 
  FoRCE HAMMER 
  4 
  10 
  – 
  12 
  No yES 
  Instead of suffering a normal damage roll, a non-incorporeal model Force 
  Hammer hits is slammed d6˝ directly away from the spell’s point of origin 
  regardless of its base size and suffers a POW 12 damage roll. Collateral 
  damage from this slam is POW 12. 
  lIgHtNINg SHRoud 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target warjack in this model’s battlegroup gains +2 STR and its melee 
  weapons gain Electro Leap. (When a model is hit by a weapon with Electro 
  Leap, you can choose to have lightning arc the nearest model within 4˝ of 
  the model hit, ignoring the attacking model. The model the lightning arcs 
  to suffers an unboostable POW 10 electrical damage roll 
  .) 
  SPEllS 
  CoSt RNg AoE PoW 
  uP oFF
   5 
  5 
  5 
  6 
  14 16 
  9
  Focus 
  7 
  Damage 
  14 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  warjack Points 
  +3 
  small Base 
  nemo
  ligHtning Strike
   rng roF aoe Pow
   ctrl 
  1 
  — 
  10
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  temPeSt accUmUlator
   
  7 
  12
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  Artificer GenerAl nemo & Storm chASer Adept cAitlin finch
  CygNAR EPIC WARCAStER & CHARACtER Solo 
  We are as much remembered in the actions of those we inspire as by our own deeds. You have given us 
  the storm for today and tomorrow.
  —King Leto Raelthorne
  When the present fades into history, Sebastian Nemo will 
  be remembered not only for his military record but also 
  as one of the greatest minds of the Cygnaran people. The 
  efforts he has made to defend his country are myriad and far 
  reaching. He has advanced the arcane science of mechanika 
  more than anyone since Kerwin, and his willingness to 
  put his hypotheses and experimental devices to the test 
  on the battlefield has shattered preconceptions of what is 
  and is not possible. As the war has grown more desperate, 
  King Leto has recognized the necessity of empowering this 
  national hero to do whatever is necessary to improve the 
  Cygnaran Army.
  Nemo’s contributions to his craft cannot be overstated: 
  all modern weaponry that leverages the storm chamber 
  
  59
  
  60
  and galvanic power derives from 
  his pioneering work. The stormsmiths 
  might not even exist if not for his theories, 
  and the same applies to the storm knights 
  empowered by his inventions. But perhaps his 
  crowning achievement will be the ideas that have led 
  to the modern colossal. 
  Had Cygnar’s leadership met Nemo’s visionary 
  Stormwall project with the urgency he demanded, 
  the nation might have made decisive strikes against its 
  enemies before they could field similar machines. In light 
  of this missed opportunity, King Leto and his War Council 
  decided to empower Nemo to act with greater latitude—
  with the hope that future crucial developments might not 
  be delayed by such laborious bureaucracy. His new title 
  brings with it considerable authority and oversight over 
  the entirety of Cygnar’s military industry; further, he is 
  entitled to choose from among the nation’s brightest minds 
  to fill the specialized ranks of his army and the workshops 
  where his latest creations take form. 
  As he contemplates his legacy, Nemo is deeply concerned 
  with the next generation of Cygnar’s warcasters. He has 
  mentored and fought alongside many of them over the 
  past half-century. Unfortunately, he has also outlived 
  several of his former students and felt the grief of seeing 
  them fall in battle before reaching their full potential. 
  His uncompromising values and irascible nature have 
  profoundly affected many of these powerful individuals, 
  who often look to him in their times of need; in fact, it can 
  be argued that Nemo has directly molded the ideal of the 
  modern Cygnaran warcaster. He has served as a particular 
  bastion of reason, moral rectitude, and paternal support 
  for Lord Commander Coleman Stryker and Major Victoria 
  Haley, as each traversed difficult trials. 
  While he has long acted informally in this consultative 
  capacity, Nemo’s new title confers direct authority over 
  the stormsmith specialist branch of the Cygnaran Army. 
  
  AdEPt
  61
  FINCH 
   Immunity: Electricity
  Arcane Assist – If its 
  warcaster is in this 
  model’s command range 
  during your Control 
  Phase, the warcaster can 
  upkeep one spell without 
  spending focus. 
  Arcantrik tuning – When 
  this model’s warcaster 
  allocates 1 or more focus 
  points to a warjack in this 
  model’s command range, 
  the warjack is allocated 1 
  additional focus point.  
  Attached to [Artificer General Nemo] – This model is attached 
  to Artificer General Nemo for the rest of the game. Each 
  warcaster can have only one model attached to it. 
  Companion [Artificer General Nemo] – This model is included 
  in any army that includes Artificer General Nemo. If Nemo is 
  destroyed or removed from play, remove this model from play. 
  This model is part of Nemo’s battlegroup.  
  ElECtRICAl Bolt 
   damage type: Electricity
  Electro leap – When a model is hit with this weapon, you can 
  have lightning arc to the nearest model within 4˝ of the model 
  hit, ignoring the attacking model. The model the lightning arcs 
  to suffers an unboostable POW 10 electrical damage roll 
  . 
  tuNINg FoRk 
   Reach
  disruption – A warjack hit loses its focus points and cannot be 
  allocated focus or channel spells for one round. 
  tACtICAl tIPS
  arCantrik tuning – A warjack cannot exceed normal focus 
  allocation limits as a result of Arcantrik Tuning.  
  eLeCtro Leap – Damage from Electro Leap is not considered to 
  have been caused by a hit or by a melee or ranged attack. 
   6 
  5 
  5 
  5 
  14 12 
  8
  Damage 
  5 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  small Base
  FincH 
  electrical Bolt 
   rng roF aoe Pow
   10 
  1 
  — 
  10
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  tUning Fork
   
  5 
  10
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  He 
  oversees 
  them 
  by 
  communicating with their 
  ranking 
  storm 
  chasers, 
  the 
  most 
  senior 
  of 
  the 
  stormsmith officers engaged 
  in active fieldwork. Storm 
  chasers join major battles 
  to coordinate stormsmiths 
  across multiple fronts. One 
  of the finest is also one of the 
  youngest: Adept Caitlin Finch. 
  Nemo quickly recognized Finch as one of the most brilliant 
  minds of her generation when she came to his attention while 
  contributing to the prototype of the Squire. Demonstrating 
  keen 
  insight, 
  she 
  developed 
  a 
  unique 
  mechanikal 
  improvement that greatly improved the mechanism assisting 
  a warcaster with spell targeting. Since Finch was selected to 
  assist Nemo, she has seen her duties expand with the scope 
  of the artificer general’s new position.
  Finch possesses a reserved nature Nemo has come to 
  respect despite her occasional arrogance. He recognizes her 
  attitude as healthy in an ambitious young arcanist—even 
  if her stubborn adherence to military protocol occasionally 
  irritates the artificer general, who holds no love for 
  bureaucracy. Still, Finch is utterly devoted to Nemo and 
  delights in the opportunities she has to test experimental 
  devices in the field alongside the prestigious warcaster. 
  In battle, the prim and proper storm chaser demonstrates 
  great courage, showing no fear of employing her electrical 
  weaponry against the enemy. 
  With his time split between fighting on the front lines and 
  directing advanced military research, Artificer General 
  Nemo is busier than ever. Nevertheless, he is acutely 
  aware of the limited time he has remaining to pass on what 
  he knows and fulfill his vision for Cygnar. Despite Finch’s 
  warnings that he should leave the fighting to younger 
  officers, he continues to wield his power wherever 
  Cygnar faces its most dangerous adversaries. When Nemo 
  fights, he does so drawing on decades of experience and 
  employing the most technologically devastating weaponry 
  ever fielded by Cygnar.
  
  62
  
  63
  StormWAll
  Commander nemo’s address to 
  kinG leto’s War CounCil,  
  doloven 11th, 606 ar
  Your Majesty, Warmaster General, and other lords, thank 
  you for hearing me. You know me to be a soldier. I am 
  not a man of speeches, and I would not come here were 
  the need not great. In recent days it has become clear that 
  our nation is entering into crisis. Only a few months ago I 
  personally bore witness to a battle between the belligerent 
  powers of western Immoren in a clash that might have 
  resulted in consequences too terrible to imagine, had we 
  failed. It was in the midst of that battle, while surrounded 
  by the fiendish weapons of our enemies, I found something 
  unexpected.
  Amid Orgoth ruins I saw the wreckage of an ancient 
  weapon, a colossal: a weapon our ancestors forged 
  to defeat their oppressors and free themselves from 
  enslavement and subjugation. Though its machinery had 
  been demolished centuries before, its cerebral matrix was 
  aware. I could feel its drive to fight for those who had built 
  it, an imprint left from whoever had controlled it in battle. 
  It was at that moment I realized we had reached a turning 
  point, that these ancient machines could be relevant to our 
  battles today.
  The colossals of old were decommissioned because 
  technology had moved on. They had served their purpose, 
  but the warjack was the superior weapon. Now, the 
  mechanikal innovations of the past centuries demand 
  that we overcome the limitations of old. We must not be 
  afraid to challenge our assumptions. The face of warfare 
  has evolved; as our enemies become more numerous and 
  formidable, we must rise to the challenge or be destroyed. 
  I know how this can be done. It will not be easy, or 
  come cheaply, but neither do the lives we expend on the 
  battlefield. I am prepared to create a colossal that embodies 
  our strengths and which will exceed anything our enemies 
  can field against it. The supremacy of Cygnaran arms will 
  be achieved, and by it our survival and prosperity will be 
  assured. Allow me to present my plans for the future of 
  Cygnaran warfare: the Stormwall.
  
  64
  StoRMWAll 
   Immunity: Electricity
  Activate lightning Pod – 
  Once per activation, after 
  its normal movement, 
  this model can place one 
  Lighting Pod anywhere 
  completely within 10˝ of 
  this model if there are fewer 
  than three Lightning Pods 
  this model placed currently 
  in play. At the time a 
  Lightning Pod is placed, 
  enemy models whose bases 
  are intersected by a line 
  drawn between the center 
  of the Lightning Pod and 
  the center of this model 
  suffer a POW 10 damage 
  electrical roll 
  . Warjacks 
  damaged by a Lightning 
  Pod damage roll suffer 
  Disruption. The S boxes of 
  this model’s damage grid 
  represent its Lightning Pod 
  system. While its Lightning 
  Pod system is crippled,  
  this model cannot use  
  Activate Lightning Pod.  
  (A warjack suffering Disruption loses its focus points and 
  cannot be allocated focus or channel spells for one round.) 
  MEtAl StoRM 
  Covering Fire – Instead of making attacks with this weapon 
  during this model’s activation, you can place a 3˝ AOE 
  anywhere completely within this weapon’s RNG. The center 
  point of the AOE must be in this model’s LOS, ignoring 
  intervening models. This model cannot place an AOE for this 
  weapon while it is crippled. A model entering or ending its 
  activation in the AOE suffers a damage roll with POW equal 
  to the POW of this weapon. The AOE remains in play for 
  one round. If this model is destroyed or removed from play, 
  immediately remove the AOE from play.  
  Rapid Fire [d3] – When you decide to make initial attacks with 
  this weapon at the beginning of this model’s combat action, 
  roll a d3. The total rolled is the number of initial attacks this 
  model can make with this weapon during the combat action, 
  ignoring ROF. 
  VoltAIC FISt 
   open Fist
  Electro leap – When a model is hit with this weapon, you can 
  have lightning arc to the nearest model within 4˝ of the model 
  hit, ignoring the attacking model. The model the lightning arcs 
  to suffers an unboostable POW 10 electrical damage roll 
  .
   5 17 
  6 
  6 
  10 19 
  —
  FielD allowance 
  2 
  Point cost 
  19 
  Huge Base 
  Stormwall
  Big gUn
   rng roF aoe Pow
   14 
  1 
  — 
  15
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  voltaic FiSt
   
  3 
  20
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  StormWAll & liGhtninG podS 
  CygNAR ColoSSAl & SoloS
  We are beset on all sides by enemies and traitors, but the squall they have wrought will be washed 
  aside by the storm we command.
  —Commander Adept Sebastian Nemo
   
  leFt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
  s 
  s
     
   
  l 
  l 
  s 
  c 
   l 
  l 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  c
   l 
  c 
  m m m m 
   
  rigHt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   s 
  s 
   
   
   
   c  s 
  r 
  r 
   
   
   c 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  r 
  r
   m  m m m 
  c 
  r 
  Big gUn
   rng roF aoe Pow
   14 
  1 
  — 
  15
  metal Storm
   rng roF aoe Pow
   10 
  1 
  — 
  12
  metal Storm
   rng roF aoe Pow
   10 
  1 
  — 
  12
  l
  r
  l
  r
  r
  tACtICAl tIPS
  aCtivate Lightning pod – The damage roll is boostable. 
  eLeCtro Leap – The lightning will still arc to a model with 
  Immunity: Electricity; it just cannot damage that model. Damage 
  from Electro Leap is not considered to have been caused by a hit  
  or by a melee or ranged attack. 
  metaL Storm – One Metal Storm can be used to make attacks and 
  the other can use the Covering Fire ability. 
  voltaic FiSt
   
  Pow 
  P+s
   
  3 
  20
  l
  HeigHt / WeigHt: 28´ / 60 tons
  ArmAment: Lightning Pod Launcher and VoLtaic coiLs (integraL), duaL heaVy cannons 
  (Left and right chassis), duaL cycLone chain guns (Left and right chassis), twin 
  VoLtaic fists (Left and right arms)
  Fuel loAd / Burn usAge: 1,650 Lbs / 10 hrs generaL, 110 mins combat
  initiAl service dAte: 608 ar
  cortex mAnuFActurer: cygnaran armory/fraternaL order of wizardry
  orig. cHAssis design: cygnaran armory (s. nemo/e.d. darius)
  With all the majesty and menace of a looming tempest, the 
  Stormwall towers above Cygnar’s enemies. The machine 
  hurls down wrath as a cloudburst, the thunder of its 
  guns and the rumble of its stride punctuated by cracks of 
  lightning that strike Cygnar’s foes. 
  The Stormwall sprang from the genius of Sebastian Nemo. 
  The renowned inventor was inspired while recovering 
  from wounds sustained during the battle at the Temple 
  Garrodh, where he had discovered a functioning cerebral 
  matrix within the shattered hull of a colossal forgotten 
  since the last battles against the Orgoth. Modern 
  mechanikal innovation in warjack fabrication had made 
  great advances since the Corvis Treaties, and Nemo’s mind 
  began to imagine the potential of a modern colossal that 
  could exploit them. 
  After recuperating in Caspia, Nemo made an impassioned 
  plea to the king’s war council about his vision. The 
  anticipated cost of the project provoked politicized 
  deliberation among reluctant nobles and bureaucrats in 
  
  65
  lIgHtNINg Pod 
   Construct
   Immunity: Electricity
  Conductor – When a 
  friendly Stormsmith 
  Stormcaller makes a Surge 
  or Triangulation Stormcall, this model is considered to be 
  another friendly Stormsmith Stormcaller. 
  Immobile – This model has no movement or action and cannot 
  be knocked down or moved. Its front arc extends to 360˚. It 
  has no melee range, cannot engage, and is automatically hit by 
  melee attacks. 
   — — — — 
  5 
  15 
  —
  small Base
  ligHtning Pod 
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  tACtICAl tIP
  immobiLe – This model can be placed. 
  the Royal Assembly. Nemo continued to speak for the 
  project through fervent letters to the king and warmaster 
  general after being recalled to the front.
  Even while he pushed for sufficient funding to produce 
  the new colossal, Nemo labored over detailed schematics. 
  Left to oversee the construction of factory infrastructure in 
  Caspia, Captain Dominic Darius reviewed the plans and 
  offered suggestions vital to the final shape of the machine. 
  In particular, Darius saw the benefit of reliable ammunition-
  fed weapons systems and convinced Nemo to use coal-
  based steam power rather than storm chambers alone. 
  Nemo turned to collaborating with the Fraternal Order 
  of Wizardry on a cortex capable of controlling multiple 
  weapon systems. His techniques resulted in a new cortex 
  grade, the arcanum supernum, a powerful and very large 
  design that made use of the colossal’s cavernous interior. 
  While the construction of factory infrastructure was 
  delayed, Khadoran agents learned of the nascent colossal 
  project and were able to obtain schematics of several key 
  components, including the cortex. The Khadoran military 
  hierarchy pushed through its own colossal manufacturing 
  plan with astounding alacrity, demonstrating the empress’ 
  absolute power. Once they learned this, the Royal 
  Assembly’s reluctance to provide funding evaporated—
  though too late to preserve the advantage Cygnar would 
  otherwise have held.
  Once production resources were finally committed, the 
  synergy of Nemo’s and Darius’ designs, particularly the 
  innovative dual power source, was executed brilliantly 
  by Cygnaran Armory mechaniks. The Stormwall’s largest 
  moving parts, including its powerful legs, are driven by a 
  central steam engine that stands as the most efficient and 
  powerful Cygnar has ever produced. The electrical weapon 
  systems draw power from sizable galvanic chambers. 
  The combination of the two power sources allows the 
  Stormwall to sustain itself between refueling longer than 
  any Cygnaran heavy warjack save the purely storm-
  powered Thunderhead.
  The Stormwall carries several experimental lightning 
  pods within its central chassis and launches them into 
  battle using powerful explosive charges. The pods 
  open on impact to form a conduit for the destructive 
  energies produced by the Stormwall’s own voltaic 
  coils. Even after the pod has discharged its initial fury, 
  it serves as an ongoing strategic electrical asset. Nearby 
  stormcallers can use the pods to triangulate subsequent 
  lightning strikes around each Stormwall. 
  The Stormwall’s more traditional weaponry is 
  equally impressive. The firing rates of its metal 
  storm cannons and powerful main guns require 
  the colossal to carry an enormous amount 
  of ammunition—its interior chassis holds 
  as much as a small garrison. In action, the 
  Stormwall unleashes torrents of infantry-
  shredding bullets and riddles warjacks 
  with cannon shells, all while summoning 
  the full strength of its voltaic rage before 
  closing with electrified fists.
  
  66
  near imer
  The stench of machine oils mingled with the sweet aroma 
  of burning incense and holy unguents, while the cacophony 
  of workers hammering iron blended with the holy chants 
  and prayers of priests. Feora, Priestess and Protector of the 
  Flame, felt her every sense assaulted even from behind her 
  masked helmet as she and her escort of elite Flameguard 
  followed the heavily robed figure of Visgoth Ark Razek 
  through the recently erected warrens of the Foundry of the 
  Sacred Flame. 
  “I’m sure you understand it was no small feat to accelerate 
  the construction of the Judicator,” Razek said over his 
  shoulder. “Of course, the Caspian mechaniks your 
  Daughters of the Flame captured proved instrumental by 
  providing the technical knowledge necessary to overcome 
  several mechanikal problems. Creating the boiler assembly 
  alone would have been otherwise impossible.”
  “Your progress has been remarkable, Visgoth. Menoth truly 
  favors your works,” Feora said. 
  They waited for several robed acolytes to open the mighty 
  iron doors that led to the scaffolds behind the foundry. 
  Due to the great size of the Judicator, final assembly had 
  been moved into the field beneath large tents that warded 
  off the blazing desert sun. The harsh conditions coupled 
  with the dangerous pace Razek had demanded from the 
  artificers had resulted in numerous fatalities, Feora knew—
  an unavoidable price required to answer the Harbinger’s 
  vision, which warned them of the terrible machines that 
  would soon be sent against the armies of the Creator. The 
  truly faithful were willing to make such sacrifices, while 
  the faithless deserved nothing more than to spend their 
  last hours ensuring that the great work came to pass. And 
  come to pass it had: the first Judicator had been completed 
  in advance of initial estimates.
  Feora tightened her grip on her weapon in anticipation 
  as she stepped in front of Razek and out into the dry 
  desert air. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared 
  at the sight before her. Towering over the sands stood a 
  magnificent testament to Menoth’s glory. Its sharp, angled 
  armor shone as it rose into pure white peaks reminiscent of 
  a cathedral. As Feora continued to scan up, she was almost 
  blinded by the radiant reflection of the sun off the delicate 
  gold trim that lined the Judicator’s armored form and the 
  mighty steam vents that crested the elegant rocket pods 
  on each titanic shoulder. Just beyond it, she could see the 
  scaffolding and large canvas tents where another Judicator 
  underwent final construction. Given their haste, it would 
  have been understandable had the visgoth sacrificed form 
  for function and forged a less resplendent machine, but 
  it was clear he considered the project an opportunity to 
  honor the Creator.
  “With these we shall carry the fire of the Lawgiver to those 
  who hide from his glory, and they shall suffer his wrath.” 
  Feora’s voice was nearly a whisper.
  She walked forward, eager to establish a connection with 
  the colossal’s cortex and be the first to command its power. 
  She was vaguely aware of her Flameguard behind her. So 
  fixated was she on the Judicator, she took no notice of the 
  line of Exemplar knights standing guard around the warjack 
  until they refused to make way. She looked at Razek for 
  an explanation but saw by his body language that he was 
  also taken aback. Then she saw approaching from the other 
  side of the field the unmistakable figure of Vice Scrutator 
  Vindictus. He was flanked by two men in elaborate 
  vestments whom she recognized as Visgoths Juviah Rhoven 
  and Var Bodalin, also vice scrutators. Three of such rank 
  working in unison was enough to make even Feora uneasy. 
  Visgoth Bodalin was a particularly ominous figure in the 
  temple hierarchy, the prime curate of the scrutator caste 
  responsible for the rigid training of that inner cabal.
  “Priestess,” Vindictus said, his voice ringing through his 
  mask, “I am pleased to see you once again.”
  Feora forced her grip to relax. “And you, Vice Scrutator. 
  Visgoths.” She inclined her head toward those flanking 
  the warcaster. Their staging was significant. Politically 
  the visgoths had more authority than Vindictus, yet they 
  were clearly here on his behalf, which did not bode well. 
  Her voice was steady as she addressed the warcaster. “I did 
  Protectorate of Menoth
  SYMBOLS OF AUTHORITY
  
  67
  not expect you. I thought your place was at the side of the 
  hierarch, overseeing the compliance of the citizens of the 
  northern capital. I trust you have been treated well by our 
  venerable visgoths. I wish they had informed me of your 
  visit; I would have received you properly.”
  Vindictus waved away her concerns. “I find the 
  unannounced visitor more often witnesses truths his host 
  would prefer to hide.” He turned to look back toward the 
  colossal. “I was pleased to learn the first Judicator had 
  been completed ahead of schedule.” He turned back to set 
  his withering stare upon her. “I know of no message sent 
  informing His Holiness of this achievement.”
  Feora tensed. “There is much the hierarch does not see from 
  his northern throne. Cygnar has already completed the first 
  of its own colossals. With their heresy only recently driven 
  from Sul, there is clear need for these great machines to 
  bolster our garrisons.”
  Vindictus paused, his fingers tightening around the hilt of 
  Lawgiver. “I understand the threat of heresy all too well, 
  Feora. Our hierarch sees and hears more than you suspect. 
  For example, your movements and associations are well 
  known—as are promises made beyond your station.”
  Feora felt the veiled accusation like a slap, and indignant 
  fury filled her. Sensing their mistress’ anger, her Flameguard 
  closed around her, causing the Exemplars across from them 
  to adopt a ready stance with relic blades raised. “I protect 
  our sacred lands and temples! It is my garrisons that afford 
  the hierarch the luxury of committing to his Northern 
  Crusade. I will do what I must.”
  Vindictus’ voice rose. “You forget your place, Priestess. 
  You are not in a position to make alliances with foreign 
  powers.” His words confirmed he knew of her meeting 
  with Vinter Raelthorne IV, although Feora could not fathom 
  how. Vindictus continued, “Such arrangements seem 
  suspiciously like conspiracy. Even treason.”
  “Speak carefully, Vindictus,” Feora said coldly. “Baseless 
  allegations do not frighten me. If I stand accused, say so. I 
  will quietly endure only so much affront.”
  “I speak for Hierarch Severius in this matter. It has been long 
  since scrutators have been forced to exercise our authority 
  against the highest temple officers, but we are empowered 
  to do so.” 
  Visgoth Bodalin spoke, his dry voice quiet but threatening. 
  “Visgoth Sollers stands with us. His facilities at Tower 
  Judgment remain at our disposal, should we have need of 
  them.” Feora could feel the blood leave her face at this, and 
  she reached her mind out to her warjacks beyond the walls.
  Vindictus turned to face Razek. “That applies to you as 
  well, Visgoth Razek. Are you complicit in working against 
  your hierarch? We have reports that several of the Synod 
  have been overly eager to act on the priestess’ dictates. 
  Your failure to keep us informed is disconcerting.”
  Razek’s expression could not be read behind his own 
  priestly mask, but his eyes darted between Vindictus and 
  the other vice scrutators. “The Synod is united in our 
  support of the hierarch. I sought only to expedite my labors 
  to arm the Great Crusade—”
  Vindictus held up a hand. “Under order of the hierarch, I will 
  take custody of this Judicator. This one and the next three 
  you produce shall be delivered to the Northern Crusade. 
  After that, we can discuss the possibility of allocation to the 
  southern garrisons. I am sure the hierarch will be pleased 
  by your success, perhaps even willing to forgive any lapses 
  in communication.”
  Razek stared for a moment before bowing his head. “I live 
  only to enact Menoth’s will,” he said.
  Forcing down her rage, Feora chose her next words 
  carefully; bloodshed here would gain her nothing. “Vice 
  Scrutator, forgive my outburst,” she said, bowing her head 
  slightly. “I assure you my actions come only from my desire 
  to protect the heart of the Protectorate from its enemies. Any 
  arrangements I have made were intended only to advance 
  the glory of Menoth and his chosen hierarch.”
  Vindictus stepped forward, through the Flameguard and 
  past the knights Exemplar to touch the armored foot of 
  the colossal. Its eyes gleamed with inner fire as its head 
  looked down and its engines rumbled. Feora could do 
  nothing but tighten her lips as the tremendous machine 
  was taken from her, its cortex now connected to Vindictus. 
  Although her own warjacks were nearby, she knew they 
  would never arrive to intercept were the Judicator set 
  upon her, nor would her Flameguard serve as more than a 
  momentary distraction.
  He turned to face her, the colossal behind him staring her 
  direction as well. “The hierarch has tasked you with a great 
  responsibility. It is my duty to cleanse those whose faith is 
  found wanting.” He paused, and behind him the Judicator 
  took a single step forward. Feora stood her ground but felt 
  the hand that rested on her weapon tremble. “I hope your 
  faith is shown to be as pure as the flame you guard.” He 
  continued past her, the great machine following. “Before 
  I leave Imer, submit to me a written summary of your . . . 
  negotiations. Omit nothing—our eyes are upon you.”
  south of lerYn in llael
  Having left his wounded knights at the Menite temple in 
  Rhydden to recover and to ensure its safety and that of 
  the city’s other holy sites, Grand Exemplar Mikael Kreoss 
  led the rest of the survivors back toward Leryn. His was 
  
  68
  a stalwart and uncomplaining brotherhood, but he could 
  sense their need to recuperate physically and spiritually. He 
  did not acknowledge this aloud any more than they would, 
  but he intended to see they attended to prayer and rest.
  Evidence of recent conflict was ubiquitous as they crossed 
  the fallow fields and abandoned lands south of Leryn, and 
  Kreoss thought it unfortunate such fertile territory lay 
  unused. He hoped by the next planting season to see the 
  faithful tending these lands. The soil in Llael was richer 
  than any the Protectorate possessed in the south, even those 
  nearest Sul and the Black River. His nation stood to gain 
  much in this northern region, not least the hearts and souls 
  of those brought back to the worship of the Creator.
  Any thought of rest vanished when he saw the panoply 
  arrayed outside the walls of the city. What appeared to be a 
  substantial portion of the entire Northern Crusade gleamed 
  in white, gold, and sanguine beneath the waning autumn sun. 
  Warjacks were present in number, each having been recently 
  repaired, sanctified, and polished to the sheen of one newly 
  built. Countless disciplined lines of Temple Flameguard stood 
  arrayed in perfect formation, while deliverers and Sunburst 
  crews attended to their weapons. Even the thousands of 
  zealots looked impressive in their tabards.  
  Kreoss rode Agon along the outer lines of the gathered army 
  and humbly took in their adoration and praise without 
  acknowledging it. He approached the large platform 
  backed by cloth of gold. A line of choir priests holding 
  staves surrounded it, and just beyond them stood the 
  Knights Exemplar, Order of the Fist allegiants, and Devout 
  warjacks serving as bodyguard to Hierarch Severius, who 
  was bestowing blessings upon the faithful. Positioning 
  himself so Severius could see him, Kreoss dismounted. He 
  knelt in reverence, bowing his head while listening to the 
  hierarch’s sonorous words as he concluded a reading from 
  the Canon of the True Law.
  Kreoss expected Severius to descend to speak to him 
  discreetly, perhaps at his nearby pavilion, but instead an 
  attending priest directed the grand exemplar to step up onto 
  the platform and present himself to the hierarch before the 
  armed throngs. Severius spoke to them as though Kreoss’ 
  arrival had been prearranged. “Grand Exemplar Kreoss has 
  just returned from a trying ordeal to the south, where he 
  fought horrors to preserve our new temples in Rhydden.” 
  Kreoss felt slightly startled at the hierarch’s knowledge of 
  what had transpired, as he had yet to deliver that news. 
  “All of us gathered know of his countless victories, his 
  unwavering devotion to the Creator. How can I properly 
  honor such a warrior?” 
  “I have only done my duty, Your Holiness. That is honor 
  enough.” Uncomfortable with the spectacle, he did not 
  attempt to send his voice beyond the platform.
  “The grand exemplar seeks no honors, of course,” Severius 
  projected in a voice that effortlessly reached the farthest of 
  those gathered. “What I bestow today represents certain 
  responsibilities only he can shoulder. In the ancient days of 
  our faith, the peerless Priest-King Khardovic granted to his 
  greatest champion a special title, one that over the centuries 
  fell out of use. This title brought with it absolute authority to 
  lead armies and stand for the priest-king in armed disputes.” 
  Severius reached a hand toward the choir priests behind him, 
  and a senior hierophant stepped forward bearing a weighty 
  rod. The hierophant turned and extended it to Kreoss as 
  Severius continued, “I restore that title now. Grand Exemplar 
  Mikael Kreoss, I name you Intercessor. When fulfilling the 
  orders of the hierarch, you will speak with my voice, and all 
  the martial orders shall bow to you. Let none ignore your 
  commands, lest they defy the Creator.”
  Kreoss had no choice but to accept the offered emblem 
  of office, which he recognized from depictions in ancient 
  murals. The bundle of crimson rods, nine in number to 
  represent the nine great ancient Menite temples, was 
  banded into a single mace by strips of hammered gold. 
  Its flanged head comprised two Menofixes embedded 
  perpendicularly to one another, while smaller Menofixes 
  appeared where the metal bands crossed along its length. 
  A short spear blade set into its base bore the more modern 
  symbols used to represent Golivant, Khardovic, Cinot, and 
  Sulon. It suggested the crusade’s eventual dominion over 
  all the lands of Man, from Caspia to Korsk, connecting past 
  to present. It was a simple symbol, but a potent one.
  A great rhythmic clamor erupted as thousands of Temple 
  Flameguard spear hafts struck against shields and 
  Exemplar relic blade cross guards met breastplates. Kreoss 
  saw even the few paladins of the Order of the Wall among 
  the gathering raise their blades in salute, adopting a posture 
  ordinarily reserved for the leader of their order. He found 
  this gesture surprisingly moving. 
  He reminded himself that whatever his title, his duty and 
  code of obedience were the same. Nothing had changed. He 
  recalled similar thoughts when the death of Bain Hurst had 
  thrust the responsibilities of Grand Exemplar upon him. 
  This presentation reinforced the authority of the hierarch, 
  not his own. Symbols, ceremony, and titles were important, 
  particularly to an army marching to war. 
  never before have so manY 
  raised sPears and sWords  
  in a sinGle armY of  
  the laWbrinGer.
  
  69
  After allowing the assembled soldiers their moment 
  of adoration, Hierarch Severius bid Kreoss stand, and 
  together they departed the platform and walked toward 
  the hierarch’s pavilion. The army quickly returned to the 
  work of organizing itself for travel. Kreoss turned to see the 
  attending priest following discreetly, and when the man 
  gestured toward the Rod of the Intercessor, Kreoss handed 
  it to him, glad to let it go. It would be kept secure except 
  when its presentation was formally required. 
  Severius said, “Our crusade prepares to march. I am pleased 
  you returned before we set forth. I intend you to lead the 
  vanguard, as is your rightful place. I shall lead the rest.” 
  Kreoss inclined his head, and Severius continued, “Remove 
  your helmet, Mikael. I would see your face.”
  The request was unusual, although it had been some time 
  since they had had an opportunity to speak outside the 
  formal audience chamber. Kreoss obediently removed his 
  helmet and faced his hierarch. Severius did not follow 
  suit; scrutators never removed their sacred masks in the 
  company of others. Kreoss asked, “You intend to take to the 
  field personally? I would recommend against it.”
  “While I appreciate your concern for my safety,” Severius 
  said, “my place is in war. When I reluctantly accepted the 
  hierarchy, I made this declaration. Leryn is secure; it is past 
  time for me to rejoin the crusade.” 
  “Why all of this?” He waved vaguely toward the platform. 
  “The bestowal of your title? It is important. There is every 
  possibility I will die in the course of this crusade, whether 
  in battle or simply due to the toll of years.” Kreoss opened 
  his mouth to protest, but Severius raised a hand. “I intend 
  to delay that inevitability. But eventually I will be called to 
  Menoth’s side. Certain realities must be faced. For one, each 
  of our martial orders has become strong. We have worked 
  to make it so. Never before have so many raised spears and 
  swords in a single army of the Lawbringer. Traditionally, 
  the leaders of each order were equal in authority while 
  subordinate to the clergy. As each order becomes an 
  army, however, its leader will feel temptation to exercise 
  authority. Speaking more directly, should something befall 
  me, it is imperative the Knights Exemplar and the Temple 
  Flameguard are not set against one another.”
  “That would not happen,” Kreoss said, frowning.
  “Can you be so sure?” the hierarch asked. Kreoss knew they 
  both thought of Feora and her undisguised thirst for power. 
  “I have already sent Vindictus south to ensure order. The 
  Protector of the Flame is pious in her own way, and we need 
  her strength and leadership to preserve Imer and Sul in my 
  absence. Yet she sometimes forgets her purpose. Similarly, 
  none of the visgoths is ready to be hierarch. When I die there 
  will be uncertainty. In Khardovic’s empire, the intercessor 
  safeguarded the temple’s arms when the priests could not 
  come to an accord. This is how it shall be again. The Synod 
  will govern, but the martial orders will obey you. You will 
  continue the Great Crusades.”
  “I will do what must be done,” Kreoss affirmed.
  Severius inclined his head and waved a hand. “Let us speak no 
  more of unpleasant possibilities, but rather of the tasks ahead.”
  Kreoss began, “I had hoped to tell you of the Cryxian 
  menace throughout Llael. The darkness encountered by 
  the Harbinger the last time she went forth was no isolated 
  incident.”
  “Yes, it was by her vision I knew you would be victorious in 
  Rhydden. We should not stand idle while our enemies lick 
  their wounds.”
  Relieved, Kreoss said, “Then we are in agreement. This land 
  will be despoiled if we do not drive Cryx away.”
  The hierarch made a disappointed noise. “You mistake me. 
  Although scattered undead remain in the countryside, they 
  will be dealt with eventually, by smaller forces. What we 
  require is to broaden the territory we have reclaimed for 
  Menoth. The Khadorans have left their holdings exposed 
  due to the war with Cygnar south of the Thornwood. High 
  Executioner Reznik has brought word that Khador’s new 
  fortress at Riversmet is vulnerable. That is where we march.”
  Kreoss found himself frowning before he disciplined his 
  expression. He bowed and said, “As you command, Your 
  Holiness.”
  “Hold a moment.” Severius’ tone was unexpectedly mild. “I 
  named you Intercessor because I value your leadership. You 
  are troubled. Speak your mind.”
  “Very well,” Kreoss said. “Cryx seems the most pressing 
  threat. War and occupation have left the people of this 
  kingdom defenseless, and now horrors set upon them. Their 
  suffering is great. If we lend a shielding hand, they will see 
  proof of the power of the Creator.” He struggled to find his 
  words, not wishing to presume to instruct the hierarch. “I 
  admit my thinking may be flawed.”
  “Your reasoning is sound, but what you must understand 
  is that these people are not ready to truly embrace Menoth. 
  They have not, in fact, suffered enough. They abandoned 
  their Creator when they thought it profited them and only 
  now begin to see the consequences. If we save them, their 
  gratitude would be fleeting at best. Through despair and loss 
  they will recognize not only their own sins but also those of 
  their ancestors. The Harbinger has confirmed this crucible of 
  misery is of no consequence in comparison to the fate of their 
  immortal souls. Our first priority is to broaden our reach, and 
  then we can protect those within our dominion.”
  
  70
  Kreoss bowed in assent, although inwardly he felt doubt. 
  “Very well; we shall march against Khador. May I make a 
  suggestion?”
  “Of course,” the hierarch said magnanimously. “I am eager 
  to benefit from your wisdom.”
  Despite his superior’s invitation, Kreoss had to remind 
  himself that Severius was more approachable than Voyle 
  had been. The former hierarch had never seemed open 
  to suggestions from others, and Kreoss had always felt a 
  barrier between them. He said carefully, “I do not believe 
  Riversmet should be the focus of our efforts.” He thought of 
  what he knew of that rubble-strewn town, how its civilians 
  were at last attempting to rebuild. It seemed profoundly 
  wrong to strike in the midst of that, while its people honored 
  Menoth by building. He did not speak those words, though. 
  Instead, he said, “That town has yet to be restored, and in 
  taking it we would be adopting Khador’s burdens as our 
  own. Let them restore it first, so that their treasury—not 
  ours—erases the damage they inflicted.”
  “Unexpectedly pragmatic,” Severius mused. “Where would 
  the intercessor prefer to strike?”
  “If Khador is neglecting its garrisons, we should be bold. 
  If you wish to muster the Northern Crusade in its full 
  strength, send us to Merywyn.”
  At this Severius’ eyes gleamed intently through his mask. 
  “That would indeed be bold, and the time may be right. 
  That said, I do not expect Merywyn to fall easily or quickly. 
  Such a siege could take months.”
  Kreoss was undeterred. “It would be worth the effort, and 
  the gains would be greater than anything Riversmet offers.”
  Severius nodded and said, “The Khadorans will be forced to 
  commit reinforcements once they learn the city is besieged, 
  of course. But by then additional strength will have arrived 
  from the south to bolster us. Vessels of Judgment and 
  Judicators should return with Vindictus. Merywyn is the 
  seat of Khador’s local authority; its war industry, factories, 
  and machine shops would be ours. This could free the 
  crusade from reliance on Imer.”
  Kreoss was somewhat startled at how readily Severius seemed 
  willing to abandon his previous plan. His eyes narrowed as he 
  observed, “You had already considered this course.”
  “The idea had occurred to me, but I dismissed it. I thought 
  it more prudent to attack a known point of weakness, 
  based on Reznik’s account. But perhaps I have grown too 
  cautious in my waning years. I trust your judgment and 
  your appraisal of our strength. Of course, I will join you in 
  leading the crusade.”
  “Perhaps with the additional risk, it would be better—”
  “No.” Severius’ voice carried the unmistakable tenor of 
  absolute command. “The Harbinger shall remain here to 
  preserve our stronghold. I will march with you to seize the 
  largest city in Llael. All glory to Menoth!”
  “All praise to Menoth,” Kreoss responded automatically. 
  He bowed deeply. “We shall see it done.”
  Few sensations were as glorious as riding alongside his 
  Exemplar brothers on the charge, their steeds’ hooves 
  plunging forward and tearing into the earth. With his 
  warcaster armor’s power field and shield, he felt 
  invulnerable as Winter Guard bullets fell away like pebbles 
  thrown against a wall. His spear, Conviction, found the 
  perfect point above a pikeman’s shield to strike the man’s 
  vulnerable throat as if guided by Menoth’s own hand. 
  Imbued with holy fire, the riders to his left and right brought 
  their gleaming lances down just before they crashed into 
  the wall of heavy armored Khadorans to deliver annihilation. 
  Iron Fang armor was crafted of well-forged tempered 
  steel, but Kreoss and his vengers rode through the soldiers 
  and knocked them asunder, igniting their bodies as they 
  went. Conviction pierced through the back of an officer 
  with a spray of blood and lifted him off the ground to 
  slide forward, impaled. Kreoss swung the weapon to the 
  side to shake the corpse free. Agon reared and plunged 
  with deadly hooves, knocking aside several of the nearest 
  enemies before breaking free of them and running clear to 
  prepare for another strike. All was chaos and bloodshed 
  around him as knights Exemplar joined his vengers on foot, 
  wielding relic blades with deadly effect. Fire of Salvation 
  was there amid the knights, breaking through the Khadoran 
  line and seeking vengeance for any of the faithful who fell 
  in its proximity. 
  Kreoss saw one section of knights falter as Man-O-War 
  demolition corpsmen crashed into them with ice mauls. 
  Through his nearest Revenger the intercessor invoked 
  blessings upon them in a shower of golden runes, a holy 
  ward that would help deflect incoming blows. Through 
  another he opened a crevasse in the earth to swallow Iron 
  Fangs closing on their flank. Crossbow bolts from knights 
  errant tore into several of the pikemen, and then melee 
  was closed.
  fire of salvation brouGht its fire-
  sPeWinG maCe CrashinG doWnWard 
  rePeatedlY into its torso until 
  the liGht of aWareness left  
  the khadoran ’jaCk’s eYes. 
  
  71
  He charged again with another kick of his heels, even as he 
  compelled Fire of Salvation toward a lingering Devastator. 
  The Khadoran ’jack had already unleashed a deadly 
  explosive torrent that had ripped through the nearest 
  knights and left their battered bodies strewn across the 
  bloodied soil. It had opened its nearly impenetrable shell to 
  deliver the deadly payload, and Kreoss took advantage by 
  sending Conviction crashing into the join between its torso 
  and left arm, severing the limb completely. Fire of Salvation 
  brought its fire-spewing mace crashing downward 
  repeatedly into its torso until the light of awareness left the 
  Khadoran ’jack’s eyes. 
  Wheeling Agon about, Kreoss saw victory was theirs, and 
  even as he sorely felt the loss of every one of his fallen 
  brothers he had to measure its cost as small. They had chosen 
  the battle site well, luring the northernmost of Merywyn’s 
  outer garrisons into the field by allowing them to see only the 
  smallest portion of his vanguard, primarily knights errant. 
  He hoped to goad his enemies from their fortifications at 
  least once or twice more before their officers began to see the 
  pattern. The more Khadorans they could draw into the open, 
  the fewer would be left to man their central battlements 
  for the siege. Even the recent Cryxian attacks across the 
  countryside were working in his favor, as the Khadorans had 
  withdrawn many of their patrols and seemed reluctant to 
  commit scouts to the field lest they simply vanish. 
  That would change once word arrived of knights Exemplar 
  on the city’s doorstep, but even in that Kreoss thought he 
  could use what the enemy knew against them. He had 
  allowed some of the survivors of this garrison to flee to 
  Merywyn, where they would give an erroneous sense of 
  his numbers, particularly given that his vanguard was 
  quite far ahead of the main army led by Severius. It was 
  an unfortunate fact of war that an army could move only 
  as quickly as its slowest elements, and the larger army was 
  moving quite slowly indeed. Consequently Kreoss had 
  been sent ahead to begin the clash and prod the Khadorans 
  into fighting on ground of his choosing. 
  Much would depend on whether the ranking officers in 
  Merywyn had the stomach to march forth against the 
  Northern Crusade. The Black River, which divided the city, 
  complicated any assault against it, allowing defenders to 
  withdraw to the bridges if the outer walls were breached 
  from only a single direction. River crossings outside the city 
  were limited, with several having been destroyed during 
  the war in Llael. 
  Despite the victory Kreoss felt no particular satisfaction. 
  This garrison he had crushed had guarded several Llaelese 
  villages that until now had been saved from the depredations 
  suffered by those farther from the capital. Should the 
  crusade’s siege go poorly, Cryx would exploit whatever 
  harm they inflicted on the garrisons, like buzzard beetles 
  after carrion. His recent battle against Lich Lord Terminus 
  had left Kreoss in a dark mood. He did not believe it had 
  been the slightest setback to Cryx. The force had comprised 
  too many thralls and not enough of the elite undead Cryx 
  favored. Terminus reigned as one of the Nightmare Empire’s 
  twelve supreme generals; why had his army not reflected 
  that status? It had to have been an eminently disposable 
  force gathered from the ample battlefields of recent wars.
  Around him, the remaining Khadorans were being dealt 
  with. By Kreoss’ command, those who surrendered were 
  offered mercy and taken prisoner by his knights. He was 
  surveying the casualties, which seemed fortunately light, 
  when he heard the galloping hooves of a swiftly approaching 
  rider. He looked up to see one of the Idrian horsemen who 
  had volunteered to serve as scouts and messengers with 
  their lean and swift steeds. He had not brought any with his 
  vanguard, but a number were kept busy riding out beyond 
  Severius’ army. The sight of this one closing so quickly now 
  had to be an ill omen. Kreoss rode to meet him.
  “Grand Exemplar, I bring urgent news!” The horse was 
  lathered, and the Idrian looked as if he had pushed himself 
  hard in the saddle. “We have spotted an army closing on the 
  main crusade from the northwest. By now they may even be 
  upon them.”
  Kreoss felt a surge of alarm. “An army? Of what sort?” His 
  mind immediately returned to Lich Lord Terminus. 
  “Khadorans, a very large army of them. Perhaps thirty 
  thousand or more, including at least a thousand heavy 
  horse. They must have marched from Laedry.” He described 
  the banners he had seen.
  “The garrison in Laedry is not nearly that large, as far as 
  I am aware,” Kreoss said. Internally he cursed his lack of 
  more recent intelligence on the disposition of the enemy. He 
  shook his head, deciding it mattered little. Such an army 
  would be a formidable threat, particularly if they were led 
  by an able warcaster, and the descriptions of the banners 
  told him they were probably Umbreans. Vladimir Tzepesci 
  had to be behind this, he was sure. Tzepesci was a man 
  quite used to war and capable of tremendous fortitude. 
  There was every possibility the warcaster had vengeance 
  on his mind after his imprisonment and interrogation at the 
  hands of Vice Scrutator Vindictus. Vindictus was not here, 
  but Hierarch Severius would be an even more tempting 
  target for Tzepesci’s unholy wrath—particularly with the 
  hierarch’s vanguard of heavy armor nowhere in sight.
  Kreoss turned to his nearest venger seneschal and ordered, 
  “Ready the interdiction. We march at once, with all haste, 
  back the direction from which we came. Let no Exemplar 
  rest until we have ensured the hierarch’s safety.”
  
  72
  FEAt: INVoCAtIoNS 
  oF tHE tRuE lAW 
  The invocations of the True 
  Law as spoken by Intercessor 
  Kreoss linger and resonate in 
  the air as a holy manifestation 
  of the Creator of Man. Before 
  their truth, enemy glyphs 
  and sigils are purged from 
  existence, while allies of the 
  Intercessor are instilled with 
  holy wrath and renewed zeal. 
  Enemy upkeep spells 
  and animi in Kreoss’ 
  control area immediately 
  expire. Then Kreoss can 
  immediately cast each 
  upkeep spell on his card without spending focus points.  
  kREoSS 
  divine Inspiration – This model gains an additional die on 
  melee attack and melee damage rolls. Discard the lowest die of 
  each roll.  
  Elite Cadre [Exemplar Vengers] – Friendly Exemplar Venger 
  models gain Divine Inspiration.  
  Imperishable Conviction – When a friendly Faction model 
  in its control area is destroyed by an enemy attack, this model 
  heals 1 damage point. 
  CoNVICtIoN 
   Magical Weapon
   Reach
  Blessed – When making an attack with this weapon, ignore 
  spell effects that add to a model’s ARM or DEF. 
  Brutal Charge – This model gains +2 to charge attack damage 
  rolls with this weapon. 
  Northern Crusade to witness Kreoss’ elevation to intercessor. 
  The ancient title had gone unused for many centuries but 
  demonstrates Severius’ implicit trust in Kreoss, who can now 
  act and fight on the hierarch’s behalf. Upon Severius’ eventual 
  demise, Kreoss is tasked with maintaining the stability of the 
  Protectorate by preventing the martial orders from turning 
  on one another at the behest of ambitious leaders. He also 
  must ensure that the Great Crusades continue and that the 
  theocracy and its army remain unified at any cost.
  Even with his unrivaled tactical brilliance, Kreoss prefers 
  to lead his men personally and conducts cavalry actions 
  from atop his great steed, Agon, alongside a hand-picked 
  vanguard of his Exemplar venger brothers. At the onset 
  of conflict he determines the most critical point on the 
  battlefield and rides to confront the faithless there, crushing 
  lesser warriors beneath Agon’s hooves as he advances. 
  Bearing his spear, Conviction, Intercessor Kreoss acts as 
  Menoth’s rightful judgment made manifest upon the world.
  tACtICAl tIPS
  CrevaSSe – Because a boxed model is removed from play before 
  being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token. 
  forCe hammer – Incorporeal models are not slammed. They just 
  suffer a damage roll. 
  ignite – When this spell is cast on cavalry models, it affects mount 
  attacks.
  CREVASSE 
  3 
  8 
  – 
  12 
  No yES 
  If Crevasse boxes its original target, you can make a SP 6 attack using the 
  boxed model as the attack’s point of origin. Models hit suffer a POW 12 
  magic damage roll. Models boxed by Crevasse are removed from play. 
  dEAtH SENtENCE 
  2 
  8 
  – 
  – 
  yES yES 
  When a friendly Faction model misses target enemy model/unit with an 
  attack, it can reroll the attack roll. Each attack roll can be rerolled only once 
  as a result of Death Sentence. 
  FoRCE HAMMER 
  4 
  10 
  – 
  12 
  No yES 
  Instead of suffering a normal damage roll, a non-incorporeal model Force 
  Hammer hits is slammed d6˝ directly away from the spell’s point of origin 
  regardless of its base size and suffers a POW 12 damage roll. Collateral 
  damage from this slam is POW 12. 
  Holy WARd 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly Faction model/unit gains +2 DEF and cannot be targeted 
  by enemy spells or animi. 
  IgNItE 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly model/unit gains +2 to melee attack damage rolls. Affected 
  models gain Critical Fire 
   on their normal melee attacks. 
  WARPAtH 
  2 
  SElF CtRl 
  – 
  yES No 
  When a friendly Faction model in this model’s control area destroys one 
  or more enemy models with a melee or ranged attack during its activation, 
  immediately after the attack is resolved, one warjack in this model’s 
  battlegroup that is in its control area can advance up to 3˝. A warjack can 
  advance only once per turn as a result of Warpath. 
  SPEllS 
  CoSt RNg AoE PoW 
  uP oFF
  There is no greater honor among the faithful than to take 
  part in the Great Crusades, and there is no mightier crusader 
  than Mikael Kreoss. As grand exemplar, he led his order 
  to retake Sul and then bolster the Northern Crusade. As 
  intercessor, he now leads the greatest army of the faithful 
  ever gathered for a single cause.
  After the death of Hierarch Voyle, Kreoss answered Severius’ 
  call to lead the Northern Crusade in his stead. His unyielding 
  resolve and the compassion with which he carries out his duties 
  have made him a popular figure even beyond his brother 
  knights; common Menites and soldiers also revere him. More 
  importantly, Kreoss’ sense of honor has never interfered with 
  his loyalty to the priests of Menoth. Hierarch Severius looks 
  upon the crusading knight as an essential pillar of his rule. 
  After the grand exemplar’s return to Leryn from the defense 
  of Menite temples in Llael, Hierarch Severius gathered the 
  Intercessor Kreoss 
  PRotECtoRAtE CAVAlRy EPIC WARCAStER
  The armies of the faithful are his to wield as only a man of his devotion is able.
  —Hierarch Severius
   
   8 
  6 
  8 
  4 
  14 17 
  10
  kreoSS
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  conviction
   
  8 
  14
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
   
  Pow
  moUnt
   
  12
  Focus 
  7 
  Damage 
  18 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  warjack Points 
  +5 
  large Base
  
  73
  
  74
  
  75
  JUDIcator
  field rePort, eastWall Crs, 
  katesh 3rd, 608 ar 
  Sir, this is an urgent dispatch and I urge you to hasten it 
  through channels to reach the proper eyes. I have witnessed 
  an extraordinary threat to our nation. The Protectorate 
  of Menoth has crafted a warjack of such size and deadly 
  strength as to be unmatched.
  As you know, I have been in the field for the better part 
  of a year, carefully infiltrating the northern reaches of the 
  Protectorate. Recently I discovered a new and costly facility 
  built to the northeast of Imer.
  While investigating the site’s perimeter I found evidence 
  that a large group had left the facility within the past day. 
  The tracks led in the direction of our small encampment 
  sheltering at Leecliff. I made haste hoping to warn them. 
  I arrived too late. Through my spyglass I saw a great 
  number of Exemplar errants fanned out in a wide 
  perimeter, presumably to cut down any scouts sent to 
  give word. East of the site dozens of choir acolytes stood 
  around a hulking shrouded form. The shrouds were 
  pulled down to reveal a towering, gleaming warjack. The 
  scale of it seemed impossible: the size of the figures next 
  to it suggested a height of perhaps thirty feet. Missing 
  panels and exposed mechanisms indicated incomplete 
  assembly. A female form in warcaster armor detached 
  from the group. She made broad gestures, as if giving a 
  speech, then pointed at the encampment. The enormous 
  warjack moved forward and systematically annihilated 
  the defenders. It fired more rockets than I could count, 
  making a mockery of what little protection was afforded 
  by the sandbag walls erected around the encampment. 
  When it reached the perimeter it loosed gouts of flame 
  upon the survivors and smashed their warjacks beneath 
  its great fists.
  I do not know how else to describe this machine but as a 
  colossal. Seeing the efficiency and speed with which it 
  annihilated our soldiers and warjacks was chilling in the 
  extreme. I will provide a more detailed report upon my 
  imminent return.
  Swift Sergeant Weston Cooper
  
   
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  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   s 
  s 
   
   
   
   c  s 
  r 
  r 
   
   
   c 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  r 
  r
   m  m m m 
  c 
  r 
  76
  JudICAtoR 
  Reliquary – This model 
  is allocated 1 additional 
  focus point during your 
  Control Phase. The S boxes 
  of this model’s damage 
  grid represent its Reliquary 
  system. While its Reliquary 
  system is crippled, this 
  model loses the benefits of 
  Reliquary.  
  RoCkEt Pod 
  Inaccurate – This model 
  suffers –4 to attack rolls 
  with this weapon. 
  Secondary Blast – After 
  determining the point of 
  impact, roll deviation for 
  one additional 3˝ AOE from 
  that point. A model hit by 
  the additional AOE suffers 
  a POW 7 blast damage roll.  
  FlAMEtHRoWER 
   Continuous Effect: Fire
   damage type: Fire
  FISt 
   open Fist
  tACtICAl tIP
  reLiquary – A warjack cannot exceed normal focus allocation 
  limits as a result of Reliquary. 
  JUDIcator
  PRotECtoRAtE ColoSSAl
  Men come to the Law only through fear and flame.
  —The Harbinger of Menoth
   
   4 17 
  6 
  5 
  8 
  19 
  —
  JUdicator
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  FielD allowance 
  2 
  Point cost 
  18 
  Huge Base 
  rocket Pod
   rng roF aoe Pow
   14 
  1 
  3 
  14
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  FiSt
   
  3 
  20
  rocket Pod
   rng roF aoe Pow
   14 
  1 
  3 
  14
  FlametHrower
   rng roF aoe Pow
   sP 8 1 
  — 
  12
  FlametHrower
   rng roF aoe Pow
   sP 8 1 
  — 
  12
  l
  r
  l
  r
  r
  FiSt
   
  Pow 
  P+s
   
  3 
  20
  l
  To the Sul-Menites, the Judicator channels Menoth’s wrath 
  by delivering the punishment of fire unto heathens; to all 
  others, it is simply a terrifying bringer of death. In support 
  of its holy mission, every inch of the Judicator bears the 
  Creator’s favor. Prayers are inscribed upon each armored 
  plate, upon fists and flamethrowers, and upon every 
  rocket—blessings that help sear judgment into the flesh 
  of the faithless. The colossal treads slowly but surely, like 
  Menoth’s inevitable reckoning of every man’s soul. Its 
  engines and armament roar to the beat of its step and the 
  melodies sung by the great choirs of Menites that follow it 
  into battle.
  The vision that led to the creation of the Judicator came to 
  the Harbinger of Menoth in the days after the conquest of 
  Leryn. She foresaw a coming conflict wreathed in smoke 
  and fire, with immense machines bearing the flags and 
  banners of the enemies of the faith. Where they clashed, 
  the earth itself was sundered. She knew those machines 
  would exact a terrible price from the faithful should her 
  nation be caught unprepared. 
  The Harbinger communicated these dire portents to the 
  hierarch and the visgoths. At first the Synod seemed 
  reluctant to act on her vision, but Hierarch Severius, 
  understanding the seriousness of the warning, brooked no 
  dissent. Efforts to construct the required weapons began 
  at once under the direction of Visgoth Ark Razek and his 
  artificers. Razek reviewed the resources at his disposal and 
  quickly concluded that existing facilities were insufficient 
  for the demands of such a tremendous undertaking. Thus 
  was the Foundry of the Sacred Flame conceived.
  Using the endless resources of Protectorate sweat, toil, 
  and faith, the great edifice was erected in the sands east 
  of Imer in mere months. No expense was spared in the 
  construction, though the lives of many laborers were lost 
  HeigHt / WeigHt: 34´ / 75 tons
  ArmAment: duaL rocket Launchers (Left and right chassis), duaL fLamethrowers 
  (Left and right chassis) 
  Fuel loAd / Burn usAge: 1,984 Lbs / 6 hrs generaL, 50 mins combat
  initiAl service dAte: 608 ar
  cortex mAnuFActurer: VassaLs of menoth
  orig. cHAssis design: suL-menite artificers, foundry of the sacred fLame
  
  77
  in the rush to completion. The manufacture of the Judicator 
  began even as the first choirs arrived to bless the factory, 
  its laborers, and the products of the great work. 
  The Sul-Menite artificers faced numerous challenges in the 
  design of the Judicator. Lacking the industrial resources 
  of Cygnar or Khador and possessing fewer specialized 
  arcane mechaniks, the artificers found themselves 
  unable to create a colossal-grade cortex similar to either 
  nation’s. They turned instead to methods unavailable to 
  the faithless, praying for inspiration to craft a device that 
  would channel the power of the Creator into the finest 
  cortex they could produce. 
  Drawing upon principles developed during the fabrication 
  of the Vessel of Judgment, they outfitted the Judicator 
  with a holy reliquary containing the interred remains of a 
  favored priest who had died in battle and whose essence 
  would serve as a reservoir for divine energies. These 
  would not be the great priest-kings that empower the 
  Vessels, but humbler servants of the faith whose loyalty to 
  the Creator outlast death. A mechanikal conduit connects 
  this receptacle to the cortex in order to fill the machine 
  with spiritual power and guide its actions in combat. 
  Though the Protectorate still lacks the resources to produce 
  Judicators in great numbers, each can be sent forth to its 
  predestined battles by the guidance of the Harbinger. 
  The success of these efforts is seen as proof that Menoth 
  looks with favor upon such weapons when sent forth on 
  crusades by the righteous. 
  The Judicator proved too large to be assembled behind 
  closed doors, even at the massive Foundry of the 
  Sacred Flame, and the artificers moved its final stages 
  of construction outdoors. Under the scorching desert 
  sun, expert mechaniks and chanting priests oversaw the 
  assembly as teams of labor ’jacks operated winches and 
  hoists that lifted the massive limbs and armor plating 
  into place. Choirs gathered to sing benedictions as the 
  Judicator’s heartfire was stoked for the first time, and the 
  great weapon of the faith took its first steps.
  Bearing shoulders filled with dozens of rockets, the colossal 
  can fire withering barrages without concern for precision: 
  the weapons can reduce entire columns of troops to blasted 
  ruin. The machine sprays Menoth’s Fury into otherwise 
  unassailable trenches and uses its mighty fists to crush the 
  few who survive. If innocents perish amid the Judicator’s 
  unleashed wrath, they will find solace serving Menoth in 
  the City of Man. Those who follow the machine into battle 
  fearlessly chant and pray their devotion, knowing they 
  walk in the footsteps of their god’s will.
  JUdicator concePtUal deSignS
  
  78
  north of stonebridGe
  Orsus Zoktavir had begun to suspect the world had gone 
  mad after the Siege of Fellig. Very little made sense in the 
  following weeks, and for a time he thought existence had 
  narrowed to the endless depths of the forest, where day and 
  night were much the same. Only the presence of his warcaster 
  armor and Lola reassured him he had not died beneath that 
  tree and walked the hellish wilds of Urcaen as penance.
  He fed his arcane turbine wood after the coal was gone. 
  When his own hunger became too great he found an animal 
  to slaughter; when he was thirsty, a stream always lay nearby. 
  At the last brook, the laughter of crows had surrounded him, 
  making him scowl and curse Zevanna Agha.
  Several times horrors from the forest beset him. Once it 
  was the savage barbarians called Tharn that leapt from 
  the trees with their axes in hand, howling to their dark 
  god. He met them grinning, the blood singing in his veins, 
  and by Lola’s blade sent them on to the one they served. 
  Another time it was walking dead with steam-driven 
  fists and blasphemous runes inscribed on pallid flesh. 
  He considered delving into the hole from which they had 
  emerged, but it seemed too much like a descent into his 
  grave, so he had plunged back into the trees.
  He found a road, and following it gave him some sense of 
  progress, if not direction. After interminable days he came 
  upon a Winter Guard encampment. The soldiers were wan, 
  lean, and desperate. They looked upon him with fear and 
  awe; it had been long since he had been in the company 
  of others or bathed, and his armor was crusted with dried 
  blood. Only Lola was clean. 
  Claiming an absence of orders and difficulties with supply 
  lines, they had been huddled here like cowards for some 
  time. Their kapitan told him of plans for battle to the south, 
  nearer Stonebridge. They agreed to follow him, reluctantly 
  taking up their weapons. Their hesitation turned his 
  stomach, but he would make use of them. They had an 
  old Juggernaut and a battered Decimator, and Orsus took 
  charge of both. It felt good to reach his will into warjacks 
  again, like putting on a comfortable pair of gauntlets.
  Two days into the march a cold wind stirred, and amid the 
  sound of hoofbeats Fenris rode from the mists to greet him. 
  He reared back on his steed and let loose a howl. It put 
  half the Winter Guard into a fright, freezing them in their 
  boots, but Orsus greeted his old friend easily. Fenris made 
  a circling motion with one of his fell blades and rode off 
  again into the trees. The next evening he returned, followed 
  by a dozen doom reavers chained to their weapons. That 
  night Orsus slept well, lulled by the whispering blades. The 
  world had begun to right itself.
  The periodic ringing in Orsus’ ears had returned, and he 
  hungered for battle again. He felt it less when plunged into 
  in the minds of his warjacks as they marched. At length they 
  arrived at a large clearing off the main road where the forest 
  had been hacked back to make room for Khadoran soldiers 
  in rows of tents. The outer pickets challenged him but then 
  greeted him with more warmth than he was accustomed to 
  once they recognized him. 
  They escorted him into the main clearing, where there was 
  considerable activity. He had thought to find rear hospitals 
  tending to the wounded and perhaps soldiers ready to 
  march as reinforcements when commanded. Instead, they 
  were packing up gear and preparing wagons. He saw 
  Winter Guard pulling down the support poles of barracks 
  tents. Spotting a thickset kovnik nearby, he strode toward 
  him purposefully and shouted, “You! Kovnik!” The man’s 
  face blanched at the sight of the warcaster. “Why are you 
  breaking camp? What news of the battle?”
  “Kommander Zoktavir? We had word you were dead!” he 
  exclaimed, stammering slightly. “You should speak with 
  Kommander Leichvich. Our orders have changed; we 
  decamp tomorrow.”
  Orsus winced at a sharp pain in his head. He saw a blue 
  uniform on the edge of his vision, and he turned with 
  widening eyes to behold Cygnaran soldiers marching into 
  the encampment from the southeast, not thirty yards from 
  Khador
  Blood Will Tell
  
  79
  him. There was no alarm or agitation among the Khadorans, 
  only a few dirty looks and some grumbling. At the head 
  of the southerners strode a tall, sturdy, dark-skinned man 
  wearing warcaster armor, with a pair of Cygnaran warjacks 
  walking behind him. Orsus recognized Major Markus 
  Brisbane, an infamous enemy of the Motherland. Next to 
  him, talking calmly and earnestly, was an older Khadoran 
  kommander, perhaps Leichvich.
  Orsus looked around aghast, but it seemed the encamped 
  Khadorans expected the Cygnarans. He ground his teeth 
  and felt the red haze start to descend across his vision. This 
  was collusion with the enemy. The pieces came together: 
  the nervous state of the warriors, the breakdown of tents, 
  the shock at his arrival. They were preparing some mission 
  of treachery. 
  “How much?” he demanded of the kovnik, looming over 
  him menacingly. The Juggernaut and Decimator stepped 
  up, their postures agitated. As the Decimator’s rip saw 
  growled, the Winter Guardsmen nearby looked at it in 
  surprise. There was the sound of a horse whinnying and 
  Fenris approached, his doom reavers fanning out to either 
  side, fell blades in hand. Orsus seized the kovnik by the 
  throat and lifted him from the ground, staring into his face. 
  “How much did they pay you to betray the Motherland?”
  The kovnik gasped, his face turning purple as he struggled 
  uselessly against Orsus’ arm. The tendons on his neck 
  strained and he choked out, “Orders! Irusk!”
  “You lie!” Several of the nearest soldiers shouted in alarm 
  even as they seized weapons. He threw the kovnik behind 
  him and into the path of his warjacks with a snarl. As his 
  Juggernaut stepped on the treacherous officer, Orsus could 
  feel it as though his own foot crushed the man’s chest. He 
  roared, lifting his axe. A lieutenant stepped forward with an 
  angry expression as he raised his blunderbuss to fire. Orsus 
  brought Lola down swiftly. The axe did not slow as it clove 
  the man from crown to groin, spilling innards onto the soil.
  Orsus’ eyes locked on the Cygnaran warcaster, who was 
  staring at him with widening eyes. The man held up a hand 
  to warn back Kommander Leichvich as a pair of Defenders 
  stepped up to join him, one of them equipped with an 
  assault shield rather than the traditional shock hammer. 
  Orsus shouted, “Kill them all!” Even as the words left 
  his lips Fenris and the doom reavers charged, unleashing 
  maddened battle howls as they carved into the nearest 
  Winter Guard. His warjacks surged ahead and Orsus ran 
  between them, Lola in hand. Runes surrounded his axe as 
  he drew his power inward, letting it flow through his blood 
  and harden the muscles in his arms and legs. 
  The first Defender fired straight into his chest, but the heavy 
  shell exploded against his power field in a spray of deflected 
  metal. The second shell hit nearer his waist moments later, 
  penetrating the field but careening off his armor and 
  leaving only a massive dent. His feet ate the ground as 
  he saw Brisbane take a rocket launcher from his back and 
  lower its nose at him. An eruption of blue runes surrounded 
  the Cygnaran warcaster, and Orsus felt foreign energy wash 
  over him and his ’jacks and sink into his armor. 
  Just as Brisbane fired, the damaged Juggernaut hurled itself 
  in front of him, its steam engine screaming. The rocket 
  impacted the forward armor near its head and exploded. 
  What should have been a trivial blast to the thick armored 
  steel tore through the warjack’s chassis as if it were made 
  of wood, severing its right arm and punching through its 
  head, cortex, and steam engine. Orsus did not slow as the 
  machine toppled in front of him but ran across the metal 
  wreckage and leapt from its shoulder to land heavily 
  between the two Cygnaran warjacks. 
  He let loose a great yell and swung Lola in a wide sideways 
  arc with all his might, the veins in his arms and forehead 
  pulsing visibly. With a crash and the shriek of protesting 
  metal the axe edge carved through pistons and armor, 
  severing the support on the nearest arms of both ’jacks. 
  The shield-bearing Defender’s heavy barrel cannon and 
  the other Defender’s right arm wielding its shock mace fell 
  with a crash. Before the modified one could raise its shield 
  to bash at him Orsus was swinging again, this time cutting 
  low enough to sever the regular Defender’s waist assembly 
  and cut it in two. The heavy body fell with a crash as his 
  swing finished its arc by slashing all the way through the 
  other ’jack’s shield and severing its arm in a spray of torn 
  metal and sparks. Dark, oily fluids poured from hoses like 
  arterial spray as the second Defender toppled as well. Orsus 
  stepped past it, leering toward the Cygnaran warcaster.
  Several of the Cygnaran soldiers raised their rifles and fired, 
  while others lowered bayonets and charged. As if feeding on 
  the rage of its master, Orsus’ Decimator surged forward to 
  drive into their midst with its rip saw, eager for its spinning 
  blade to taste blood. With a galloping of hooves and a great 
  leap Fenris landed nearby to hack down several more as his 
  horse reared and snarled, hooves churning.
  Major Brisbane had dropped his rocket launcher and lifted 
  his mechanikal hammer. He gave his own cry as he ran at 
  Orsus, who did not even attempt to dodge as the hammer 
  swung around to connect with tremendous force against 
  the center of his breastplate, where it flashed blue and 
  unleashed a surge of power. Orsus felt the breath knocked 
  out of him as he flew off his feet and backward fifteen feet to 
  crash into a stout tree, half-shattering its trunk. The impact 
  left him gasping while spots filled his vision. Something 
  had cracked in his chest and there was blood on his lips, but 
  he felt no pain. 
  
  80
  He chuckled wetly and staggered to his feet to step 
  toward his enemy, adjusting his grip on Lola. Someone 
  was screaming in Khadoran, but Orsus paid no mind. He 
  snarled and charged again, raising the axe above his head 
  and bringing it down. Brisbane scrambled back and raised 
  his hammer to block the blow. There was the high-pitched 
  sound of metal snapping and tearing as Lola chopped 
  through the steel handle and sheared through power field 
  and warcaster armor to open a gash from Brisbane’s upper 
  breastplate to his waist. The Cygnaran dropped the broken 
  weapon and tripped to land on his back, raising a hand to 
  his chest as blood began to seep from the wound. Orsus 
  grimaced in self-reproach—it was only a shallow cut, just 
  through the skin. 
  He stepped forward to finish the work but was blocked by 
  Kommander Leichvich, who waved a piece of paper bearing 
  official seals. He was screaming, “. . . orders, you madman! 
  From Kommandant Irusk! Stop now!”
  Keeping his eyes on the other warcaster, Orsus meant to 
  knock Leichvich out of the way, but his axe cut through 
  the man’s wrist. The severed hand—still gripping the 
  piece of paper—landed on the ground near where Brisbane 
  struggled to regain his feet. Seeing it there, and hearing the 
  kommander’s words, Orsus felt the red haze begin to fade. 
  Unwelcome thoughts were intruding. He was no animal—
  he obeyed orders. That had been his promise to the empress. 
  His eyes fixed on the paper and not Leichvich, who sat 
  heavily, holding the stump of his arm as it spurted blood. 
  One of his subordinates rushed up with a belt to cinch the 
  flow. Orsus leaned over to take the bloodstained paper and 
  frowned as he read the words.
  He stared down at Major Brisbane as the Cygnaran got 
  unsteadily back to his feet, pressing one hand against his chest 
  where blood flowed from the gash. Orsus’ hands ached to 
  deliver the final blow, and it seemed to him Lola wanted it 
  just as badly. Instead he said, “You are my prisoner now.” He 
  looked around to where battle was still raging. He summoned 
  his Decimator and shouted, “Stop! Enough!” in a ringing voice. 
  Fenris turned his steed away from those he had been killing. 
  Seeing him, the doom reavers also checked themselves, some 
  in mid-swing. Orsus turned to the Winter Guard. “Disarm and 
  bind the Cygnarans. Any that resist, execute.”
  Leichvich protested feebly, “You can’t do this! We are allies 
  now. You’ll be court-marshaled for this!” 
  Orsus said, “Maybe. But I will confirm these orders 
  personally. Your piece of paper means nothing.” Meeting 
  Brisbane’s stare, he said, “Try anything, and you die. Come.”
  Central llael
  Vladimir Tzepesci felt considerable pride as he rode 
  his steed Vsada at the fore of his war host. Beneath his 
  banner was an army such as he had never led before: 
  Umbreans, every one, including those who had once 
  lived on Khadoran soil as well as those who had called 
  themselves Llaelese. There were families represented here 
  that had not acknowledged one another in centuries, not 
  since the Orgoth divided them. Empress Ayn Vanar had at 
  last formally bestowed the volozskya that had divided old 
  Umbrey on the Tzepesci family.
  Critics of the empress claimed this was bowing to Umbrean 
  dissent, but Vladimir knew its true political meaning. 
  Umbrey now was a sworn territory of the empire, as 
  it should be, and his vows to the empress still held. The 
  empress had shrewdly made it his responsibility to protect 
  the occupied territory, which enabled her to accommodate 
  the High Kommand’s desire for the bulk of the Khadoran 
  Army to remain elsewhere. She had given him his family’s 
  ancestral lands—but only as they were being ravaged.
  The Umbrean force he led, which his liegemen had 
  assembled at great cost and difficulty, had been intended to 
  confront Cryx, to put an end to the bands of roving undead 
  that had been plaguing Llael in recent weeks. But when he 
  had received word of a massive Sul-Menite army marching 
  toward Merywyn, he had known he had no choice but to 
  move to intercept. Count Barak Ushka rode at his side, a 
  hulking man and one of his staunchest allies. A follower 
  of the older drakhun tradition, Ushka rode a massive 
  Karpathian destrier named Grom, necessary due to the 
  tremendous weight of his archaic armor.
  Vlad donned his helmet and took his horselord’s spear in 
  one hand and his flail in the other as he looked down at their 
  enemy. The tremendous army of Menites stretched out along 
  the flat field to the east of the Black River. Their numbers had 
  swelled far beyond what they had been when Vlad had seen 
  them before the walls of Leryn; it looked to be a substantial 
  portion of the Northern Crusade. Nevertheless Vladimir 
  felt some optimism, as the army comprised mostly Temple 
  Flameguard and zealots and lacked for heavy infantry and 
  cavalry. The Knights Exemplar were conspicuously absent.
  The Protectorate army was just entering into a narrower 
  valley ringed by gently sloping hills as the river wound 
  toward the Llaelese capital. They would be forced to spread 
  out into a long column to squeeze through several narrows. 
  He could see places where his vanguard of heavy horse 
  could cross shallower water to strike hard against exposed 
  sections of the column. 
  “Good ground for us,” Ushka said enthusiastically in his 
  deep voice.
  “Yes. I could not ask for better,” Vladimir agreed. He 
  pointed southeast, ahead of the army’s intended path, to 
  where the road narrowed at a bluff ridging the valley’s 
  
  81
  the smell of burnt flesh 
  and smoke Choked the air as 
  zealot fire bombs eruPted.
  terminus. “Our infantry will hold the choke point, and 
  encamp just beyond, to block the easiest road to Merywyn. 
  Meanwhile we will strike repeatedly to hinder their 
  advance. There, and there.” He chopped with his armored 
  glove at their best river crossing and a tributary beyond 
  it, which would aid their withdrawal while hindering 
  forces on foot. “We must avoid entangling our pikemen 
  prematurely. If we make this advance costly enough, 
  Severius will be forced to withdraw to Leryn. Leave the 
  northern route open to facilitate this.”
  He could not help but imagine the streams of blood that 
  would flow from the clash of the armies to stain the Black 
  River. An unfortunate loss of life, as he knew this was not 
  his true enemy. Before even the crows could properly feast 
  on the slain, Cryx’s necrotechs would descend. It seemed 
  as though all his efforts to forestall catastrophe in the 
  region were to be undone by the fanatic obstinacy of the 
  Northern Crusade. The Old Witch’s warning was heavy 
  on his mind. First Vice Scrutator Vindictus had prevented 
  his meeting with the hierarch, and now this army marched 
  toward Merywyn. Khador had invested heavily in the 
  city’s factories and railway, which sped reinforcements and 
  warjacks to the front line. Vladimir knew he could not allow 
  the city to fall.
  Before he could rule Umbrey, he had to protect it. He had 
  already sent messengers to the nearest Khadoran garrisons, 
  including Kommander Harkevich at Riversmet, but he did 
  not anticipate reinforcement. What he anticipated was a 
  long, bloody battle.
  Vsada plowed through the water of the tributary and 
  surged up onto the far bank as Vladimir dug spurs into his 
  sides. More uhlans crossed with him to strike deep into the 
  ranks of the Temple Flameguard, scattering bodies and 
  sending shattered shields and spears flying. Vlad wielded 
  his spear and flail with murderous precision. His favored 
  ’jack Drago was beside him, hewing through any enemy 
  foolish enough to close. They barreled through the side of 
  the column and deep into the Menite army, throwing the 
  surrounding forces into reactive confusion. The Menites 
  had been scrambling to secure several of the higher hills to 
  position artillery capable of firing across the river. Vladimir 
  and his vanguard had repeatedly driven into points of 
  weakness, using speed to exploit the inability of the larger 
  army to reposition itself easily.
  Down the bank from the great prince, Ushka fought with 
  the strength of a gorax. He shattered his cavalry lance into a 
  Crusader on the initial charge and then drew an oversized 
  axe to pound the ’jack into scrap while Grom shattered 
  the skulls of several zealots with his hooves. A Man-O-
  War drakhun joined Vlad and used his annihilator blade 
  to sweep through an intervening wall of additional spear-
  wielding Flameguard, sending the line into chaos.
  The men parted as additional Berserkers rushed across at 
  Vlad’s urging and lay into the Menites, leaving crushed 
  and dismembered bodies behind them. His Destroyers 
  fired from the opposite bank before making their own 
  crossing. The smell of burnt flesh and smoke choked the 
  air as zealot fire bombs erupted. Vladimir saw the nearest 
  uhlan scream and fall from his horse as the flames from 
  one consumed him. With a cry, Vlad rallied the uhlans and 
  charged the zealots before they could ready additional 
  bombs. He had reached his immediate objective—the 
  highest point of the hill the Menites had been hoping to 
  hold to defend the river crossing. From here Vlad intended 
  to carve a bloody path through the shifting Protectorate 
  forces and neutralize a deliverer-held hill that had been 
  menacing his infantry where they had succeeded in seizing 
  the southern choke point.
  Already the main army was reacting to their strike. The 
  warjacks and bastions protecting Hierarch Severius loomed 
  in the near distance. Severius’ warjacks occasionally came 
  against his forces, and his holy prayers filled his soldiers 
  with strength and warded them from harm, but the hierarch 
  kept his distance. Vladimir’s initial attempts to signal for a 
  parley had been ignored, which was not surprising. Severius 
  and his army were set on their course, and it seemed too late 
  for words to have an impact.
  Over two days of bitter fighting, Vlad’s plans had unfolded 
  as intended, with his army encamped along the main 
  route to the capital and inflicting heavy casualties on 
  any Sul-Menite forces seeking to push south. Vlad and 
  his vanguard had fought ceaselessly to interfere with the 
  ordered disposition of Severius’ sprawling masses, but 
  despite his efforts the Northern Crusade was beginning to 
  force engagements across the southern end of the valley. 
  The casualties would only escalate, as despite the limits of 
  his force composition, Severius was every bit as skilled at 
  directing his forces as Vladimir expected. Vlad’s own army 
  had its weaknesses, and he sorely wished he had even a few 
  kompanies of Winter Guard to provide artillery and small 
  arms support. 
  Despite having secured the southern valley opening, the 
  Umbreans saw the sheer numbers of the Northern Crusade 
  
  82
  vladimir felt his heart 
  raCe as he Considered hoW 
  drastiCallY their situation 
  had suddenlY ChanGed.
  take their toll. His cavalry did not have inexhaustible 
  reserves of stamina, and Vlad had been relying on them 
  heavily. His pikemen were holding strong—just the day 
  before they had tied up an assault by Flameguard long 
  enough for Vladimir to execute a devastating charge into 
  the midst of the enemy Redeemers and Sunburst ballistae 
  situated on the high ground north of their position, severely 
  gutting their ranged support before it could disrupt his 
  forward lines. 
  Even as Vlad gathered his horsemen to make their next 
  move, a bright glimmer from the south caught his eye. 
  Peering that way, Vlad saw something that made his blood 
  run cold—the gleam of gold and white in the valleys 
  behind them. To the southwest, where the river wound its 
  way toward the capital, his sharp eyes soon identified the 
  source: another Protectorate army. Hundreds of Exemplar 
  vengers galloped in their direction, and behind them rank 
  upon rank of gleaming knights on foot were closing on 
  the rear of the Umbrean encampments. The Menite knights 
  and cavalry, whose absence had been puzzling him, had 
  revealed themselves at last, inexplicably approaching 
  from closer to Merywyn! At their fore astride a heavy steed 
  was a gleaming knight Vladimir knew had to be Grand 
  Exemplar Kreoss. 
  Vladimir felt his heart race as he considered how 
  drastically their situation had suddenly changed. His main 
  army was now in danger of being encircled. Attacked on 
  two sides, with one foe superior numerically and the other 
  a stalwart force of knights including heavy cavalry, they 
  would be crushed between. He considered attempting to 
  confront Kreoss—that might buy him time to deal with 
  Severius’ more ponderous army—but such a course risked 
  squandering the bulk of his strength. Kreoss and his 
  Exemplars would not fall easily.
  He looked back to the north and observed a section of the 
  main Protectorate army pushing his way. The Sul-Menites 
  had also seen the approach of the grand exemplar and rushed 
  to force Vladimir’s hand. His eyes narrowed when he saw 
  Hierarch Severius advancing as well. It was the first time in 
  the engagement the hierarch had risked venturing so close. 
  Within the closing vice of the enemy forces, Vladimir saw a 
  desperate possibility. He could force his way to the hierarch 
  and either parley or end the Protectorate leader’s life and in 
  a single stroke break the crusading army’s morale.
  Count Ushka rode over to him and raised his lance in salute. 
  “Shall we ride to face them?” He inclined his head toward 
  the Exemplars.
  Vladimir shook his head. “I have unfinished business with 
  the hierarch.” The count’s eyes widened, and he looked 
  back to the nearest hill, where Severius and his honor 
  guard had joined the artillery already there to gain a better 
  view of the imminent clash. Vlad ordered, “Take the 4th 
  and 5th Uhlans and any pikeman reserves remaining 
  in our encampment and delay the Exemplars as long as 
  possible. Protect our flanks.”
  Ushka nodded and closed the faceplate on his helmet as he 
  turned Grom south. Vlad held his spear high and called to 
  his horse captains. His warjacks were already forming up 
  into a line, and at his mental signal they ran north as quickly 
  as their smoke-bellowing steam engines would push them, 
  churning the rain-soaked earth with every stride. Vlad rode 
  near the Berserker closest to Drago and extended a hand, 
  invoking runes along its frame. Drawing on dark powers 
  inherited from his ancestors, he instilled in the machine’s 
  cortex a ravenous ferocity and hunger for battle. 
  The enemy clearly had not expected him to turn north, 
  toward the main mass of their army. Rows of Temple 
  Flameguard ran forward to set shields. The entire Menite 
  army seemed to pulse like a living thing as its soldiers 
  rushed into position: Flameguard in front, zealots next, 
  and a thin row of deliverers behind them. These last 
  were already opening fire, and several rockets impacted 
  harmlessly against the nearest warjacks. His Destroyers 
  slowed to fire bombards, sending explosive shells amid 
  the packed Menite ranks. Both Redeemers and Reckoners 
  retaliated with their own ordnance.
  Vladimir summoned a wall of swirling wind around him 
  that deflected the nearest enemy ordnance, but he saw 
  several of his uhlans thrown from their steeds by explosions. 
  He pointed past the line of his warjacks and screamed to his 
  captains, “Charge past and wheel left beyond the line! Only 
  engage on my call!”
  The warjacks crashed into the Flameguard with devastating 
  impact. Berserker axes whirled through shield and armor as 
  spearmen sought to hold their line, but it collapsed utterly 
  as Drago carved through men, steam engine screaming in 
  rage. Augmented by Vladimir’s enchantment, the other 
  Berserker similarly hacked through soldiers while its steam 
  engine screamed like a living thing, sending survivors 
  fleeing in terror. Spriggans and Kodiaks closed on the 
  Protectorate warjacks behind them. One of the Berserkers 
  Vlad had sent toward the highest-ranking Flameguard 
  officer began to smoke as its unstable cortex overloaded. It 
  exploded in an inferno of energy, sending shrapnel through 
  the nearest Flameguard. 
  
  83
  Vladimir urged his ’jacks onward, hoping to use them to 
  drive toward Severius’ bodyguard, Exemplar bastions 
  advancing toward the fray. The hierarch had yet to commit 
  his heavy warjacks, somewhat to Vladimir’s puzzlement, 
  while a trio of Revengers ran forward instead. He leaned 
  forward on Vsada, pushing the steed to full gallop, and 
  drew on his power to invoke runes across his closest cavalry 
  to augment their pace as well. The Flameguard had sought 
  to intercept, and their line had been drawn out of formation 
  as they followed raggedly behind, yet still his cavalry raced 
  perpendicular to the main line, veering inward once they 
  reached its end. Their mounts thundered through men 
  and trampled them as they surged up the hill. His uhlans 
  crashed into the nearest Revenger with their explosive 
  lances, crippling the massive machine.
  Even as he whirled on his rearing steed, laying about him 
  with flail and spear, his mind joined his machines and he 
  saw the Revengers close. The tactic made no sense to him, 
  yet he felt apprehension; Severius was no fool. His unease 
  grew when he saw that where each warjack’s arc node 
  should be was strapped a similar but unfamiliar apparatus 
  that emitted a strange orange light. Atop the hill Severius 
  raised his hands, and golden runes surrounded him as he 
  invoked his holy power. The devices suddenly erupted in 
  flame, and from them pulsed a wave of light. As it struck the 
  Khadoran warjacks Vladimir felt his mind suddenly hurled 
  loose, as if each of their cortexes had extinguished. The 
  machines froze, several—including Drago—in mid-strike. 
  Impossible as it seemed, Severius had somehow breached 
  their cortex locks and paralyzed his ’jacks. He immediately 
  intuited Vindictus somehow had a hand in this.
  Vladimir gritted his teeth at his sudden peril. Without 
  his ’jacks on the left flank, and with the Flameguard 
  rushing to close the gap behind him, he was considerably 
  overextended. The Umbreans had torn a hole through 
  the outer Protectorate line, but additional zealots were 
  rushing forward. Those uhlans that had been bogged 
  down by Flameguard slashed with the bladed ends of their 
  reversed lances, but thrusting spears jabbed at them and 
  pierced several.
  He looked to Severius, who was staring down the hill at 
  the inert Khadoran warjacks. “To me!” Vladimir shouted, 
  rallying his nearest captains. “For Umbrey!”
  He spurred Vsada up the hill, giving forth all his sorcerous 
  will to fill his own mount and those around him with his 
  power, to speed their hooves and ward away enemy blows. 
  They surged upward as a line imperishable, wheeling 
  around or trampling through those who would engage 
  them. Vladimir drove his spear into the Devout that tried 
  to stand against him, crippling its hip assembly before then 
  shattering its halberd arm with a mighty blow of Huntsman. 
  Vsada danced away, bringing him close enough to shatter 
  the helmet and skull of an Exemplar bastion. He could feel 
  the fire of his ancestors rising in his veins with every kill, 
  as blood sprayed his horse and his crimson armor. He and 
  the steed felt like one flesh as they surged forward and then 
  sideways, and with every thrust of his spear or swing of his 
  flail, another Menite died. 
  More of his uhlans fell, but they took with them the 
  bastions that had formed Severius’ inner guard. Dozens of 
  battered and bloodied uhlans rallied to their great prince, 
  hurling their mounts up the hill and wheeling about as 
  they reloaded their blasting lances and readied to deal 
  with the Flameguard closing ranks behind them. Ahead of 
  Vladimir stood Hierarch Severius, and at his side a heavily 
  ornamented Revenger crouched with shield and halberd 
  ready. The hill was almost empty of other Menites; those 
  who had been with Severius had perished in their attempt 
  to intercept Vladimir’s charge. More Flameguard and 
  zealots were racing toward the hill from behind, but they 
  would not arrive in time. The hierarch’s face could not be 
  seen behind his mask, but his posture suggested no alarm. 
  Elsewhere the battle continued as Flameguard fought the 
  main Umbrean army and Count Ushka’s force confronted 
  the Exemplars, but here there was a moment of calm.
  Vladimir lowered his spear point toward the hierarch, who 
  intoned in a sonorous voice, “I could say but a word, and 
  your horsemen would turn on you, awakened to the will of 
  the Lawgiver. Are you here to surrender? I am ready to hear 
  your pleas.”
  The great prince stared back from beneath his helm, 
  unwavering. “Whatever tricks you manage, they will 
  only slow your death. I am within striking distance, and 
  nothing could save you from my wrath, not even the hand 
  of the Creator.”
  “We will have to add that to your list of blasphemies, 
  Vladimir Tzepesci,” Severius said.
  “Vindictus violated the Law of Envoys to keep me from 
  speaking to you once before. I would like nothing better 
  than to end your life in repayment. But first, we have more 
  important matters to discuss.” Beneath him, Vsada pawed 
  the earth and snorted, eager to charge, his muscles tensed. 
  “Will you listen? Or are you eager for death?”
  
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  HUntSman
   
  7 
  13
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  HorSe lord’S SPear
   
  6 
  12
  84
  FEAt: CHARgE oF 
  tHE HoRSE loRdS 
  When Vladimir Tzepesci calls 
  his host the ground shakes 
  beneath the countless hooves of 
  warhorses and the heavy tread 
  of warjacks on the charge. 
  Cavalry and machines alike 
  crash into the enemy and leave 
  broken lines behind them as 
  they wheel away to position 
  for another strike.  
  While in Vladimir’s control 
  area, friendly Faction 
  warjacks and cavalry 
  models gain Side Step 
  and Sprint. Charge of the 
  Horse Lords lasts for one 
  turn. (When a model with 
  Side Step hits an enemy 
  model with an initial melee 
  attack or a melee special attack that is not a power attack, it can 
  advance up to 2˝ after the attack is resolved.) (At the end of its 
  activation, if it destroyed one or more enemy models with melee 
  attacks during its activation, a model with Sprint can make a full 
  advance.)  
  VlAdIMIR 
  Blood-Quenched – This model gains a cumulative +1 STR and 
  ARM for each living enemy model it destroys with a melee 
  attack during its activation. This bonus lasts for one round. 
  Combat Rider – During a combat action it did not make a charge 
  attack, this model can make one melee attack with its Mount. 
  Relentless Charge – This model gains Pathfinder 
   during 
  activations it charges. 
  HoRSE loRd’S SPEAR 
   Magical Weapon
   Reach
  Brutal Charge – This model gains +2 to charge attack damage 
  rolls with this weapon. 
  HuNtSMAN 
   Magical Weapon
  Chain Weapon – This attack ignores the Buckler and Shield 
  weapon qualities and Shield Wall. 
  MouNt 
  Critical knockdown – On a critical hit, the model hit is 
  knocked down. 
  dASH 
  2 
  SElF CtRl 
  – 
  No No 
  While in this model’s control area, friendly Faction warrior models cannot 
  be targeted by free strikes. This model and friendly Faction warrior models 
  activating in its control area gain +1 SPD. Dash lasts for one turn. 
  FlASHINg BlAdE 
  1 
  SElF 
  – 
  – 
  No No 
  This model immediately makes one normal attack with one of its melee 
  weapons against each enemy model in its LOS that is in the weapon’s 
  melee range. These attacks are simultaneous. 
  HANd oF FAtE 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly Faction model/unit gains an additional die on attack and 
  damage rolls. Discard the low die in each roll. 
  INFERNAl MACHINE 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target warjack in this model’s battlegroup gains Terror 
   and +2 MAT 
  and SPD. 
  RAzoR WINd 
  2 
  10 
  – 
  12 
  No yES 
  A blade of wind slices through the target model. 
  WINd WAll 
  3 
  SElF 
  – 
  – 
  No No 
  This model cannot make ranged attacks, and non-magical ranged 
  attacks targeting it automatically miss. While completely within 3˝ 
  of this model, models cannot make ranged attacks and non-magical 
  ranged attacks targeting them automatically miss. Wind Wall lasts for 
  one round. 
  SPEllS 
  CoSt RNg AoE PoW 
  uP oFF
   8 
  6 
  7 
  5 
  15 17 
  9
  Focus 
  7 
  Damage 
  18 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  warjack Points 
  +5 
  large Base
  vladimir
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
   
  Pow
  moUnt
   
  12
  While the Umbrean lands have been under Khadoran rule 
  since the empire conquered Llael, their fate had remained 
  uncertain. Many among the nobles and kayazy sought 
  to claim them, but driven by a greater purpose, Vladimir 
  persisted even as he fought in the empress’ name. He 
  steadily won the loyalty of all Umbreans who gathered to 
  his banner, whether Khadoran or former Llaelese. 
  Proving her political prowess, Empress Vanar declared 
  that any noble who would be considered for the lands 
  of Umbrey must fight to defend them against external 
  enemies. Amid escalating Cryxian and Sul-Menite assaults, 
  only Vladimir was willing to risk his life for the Umbrean 
  people. By the empress’ decree, the two smaller volozkya 
  and single Llaelese duchy that had once been Umbrey were 
  joined into a single massive volozkya beholden to Great 
  Prince Tzepesci. 
  The great prince was left to defend Umbrey virtually on his 
  own; should he fail, the shame will fall on him alone. He has 
  gathered his vassals and a great Umbrean host for this task, 
  his soldiers knowing they fight for their destiny as well as 
  to protect their families and ancestral lands.
  Vladimir Tzepesci rides his warhorse, Vsada, at the head of 
  an elite guard of heavy cavalry and wields the weapons of 
  his ancient namesake, who usurped the throne and united 
  Umbrey four centuries ago. Carrying the spear in one hand 
  and the mace Huntsman in the other, Vladimir lashes out 
  with dark sorceries while his blood sings in battle, lending 
  him the strength to secure his ancient birthright.
  Vladimir Tzepesci, GreaT prince of Umbrey 
  kHAdoR CAVAlRy EPIC WARCAStER
  Neither war nor destiny wait for any man, yet instead hound his steps and will not be denied.
  —Drago Tzepesci
   
  For the first time in generations, the people and lands of 
  Umbrey stand united beneath their rightful lord. Reclaiming 
  the birthright denied his family for centuries, Great Prince 
  Vladimir Tzepesci rides into battle wielding weapons of 
  the ancient Tzepesci horselords and leading the people of 
  Umbrey to seize their destiny.
  
  85
  
  86
  
  87
  korsk, 608 ar 
  It was an unseasonably cold day in the capital, but the 
  people of Korsk lined the streets with an enthusiasm 
  undimmed by the weather. Winter Guard lined the 
  thoroughfare leading from the industrial quarter to the 
  massive central railway station. The spirited Korskites 
  in the crowd welcomed the opportunity for a military 
  parade and particularly the chance to catch a glimpse of 
  their beloved empress. The anticipation in the air was 
  sharper than usual, as the crowd awaited a legend reborn 
  in Khadoran steel.
  Ordinarily the empress stood atop the great walls of 
  Stasikov Palace to watch processions passing far below, 
  but on this occasion her balcony was modest, jutting from 
  one of the ordinary buildings along the thoroughfare. Even 
  the High Kommand’s booth opposite was grander, with 
  bunting and pennants along the rails surrounding the senior 
  officers, each resplendent in their uniforms and medals. Her 
  placement suggested Empress Vanar was proclaiming she 
  was not the center of attention this day, merely an observer 
  like her people. 
  With them she watched the arrival of the first regiments. 
  Thousands of Winter Guard marched in lockstep, 
  shouldering their weapons in perfect discipline. They 
  turned their heads to face the empress as they passed, and 
  she inclined her head in greeting. Then they turned smartly 
  to face the High Kommand, who also offered them honor. 
  Anticipation only grew as a great dull sound began to echo 
  over the din of marching men: the roar of powerful engines 
  and the tread of massive machines.
  The sound grew louder, and the people turned to look down 
  the avenue where a great cloud of coal smoke was visible 
  from round the corner, suggesting some great conflagration. 
  A regiment of highly decorated soldiers appeared, pairs 
  of Spriggans escorting them with lances raised high, and 
  behind them a mountain walked.
  An awed hush fell over the gathered civilians and soldiers 
  alike as a colossal in Khadoran colors strode forth like a 
  memory torn from the pages of history, the first to grace the 
  capital in three hundred years. Its mighty engines exhaled 
  plumes of smoke that briefly obscured the polished barrels 
  of its enormous cannons. As it came to the empress’ place 
  of honor, it paused and turned to her in salute, its blazing 
  eyes meeting hers. The empress returned the salute, and the 
  crowd cheered wildly, giving voice to the fierce pride they 
  felt in beholding a monument to conquest they had bought 
  with coal once set aside to heat their homes.
  conQUesT
  
  88
  HeigHt / WeigHt: 31´ / 100.8 tons
  ArmAment: main guns turret (integraL), duaL secondary batteries (Left and right 
  chassis)
  Fuel loAd / Burn usAge: 3,150 Lbs / 6 hrs generaL, 45 mins combat
  initiAl service dAte: 608 ar
  cortex mAnuFActurer: greyLords coVenant
  orig. cHAssis design: khadoran mechaniks assembLy
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  FiSt
   
  4 
  22
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  FiSt
   
  4 
  22
  tACtICAl tIP
  SeCondary battery – One Secondary Battery can be used to make 
  attacks and the other can use the Creeping Barrage ability. 
   
  leFt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
  s 
  s
     
  l 
  l 
  l 
  s 
  c 
   l 
  l 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  c
    l 
  c 
  m m m m 
   
  rigHt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   s 
  s 
   
   
   
   c  s 
  r 
  r 
  r 
   
   c 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  r 
  r
   m  m m m 
  c 
  r 
  MAIN guNS 
  Critical devastation – On 
  a critical hit, instead of 
  suffering a normal damage 
  roll, each model in the 
  AOE is thrown d6˝ directly 
  away from the attacker 
  regardless of its base size. 
  Move models farthest 
  from the attacker first. The 
  model directly hit by the 
  attack suffers a POW 15 
  damage roll. Other models 
  hit by the attack suffer a 
  POW 8 damage roll. The 
  POW of collateral damage 
  is equal to the POW of the 
  damage roll suffered by the 
  thrown model. 
  SECoNdARy 
  BAttERy 
  Creeping Barrage – 
  Instead of attacking with 
  this weapon during this 
  model’s activation, if it is 
  not currently crippled you can place two 3˝ AOEs anywhere 
  completely within this weapon’s RNG, centered on points in 
  this model’s LOS, ignoring intervening models. The AOEs 
  must be placed within 1˝ of each other. A model entering or 
  ending its activation in one or more of the AOEs suffers an 
  unboostable POW 6 blast damage roll. The AOEs remain in play 
  for one round. If this model is destroyed or removed from play, 
  immediately remove the AOEs from play.  
  linked guns – When this model makes an initial attack with 
  this weapon, after the initial attack has been resolved it can 
  immediately make one additional attack against the target of the 
  initial attack. This additional attack ignores this weapon’s ROF.  
  FISt 
   open Fist
  conQUesT 
  kHAdoR ColoSSAl
  Khadoran supremacy is meted out in the steel of our singular will.
  —Grand Vizier Simonyev Blaustavya
   
  main gUnS
   rng roF aoe Pow
   15 
  1 
  4 
  15
  Secondary Battery
   12 
  1 
  3 
  12
  Secondary Battery
   rng roF aoe Pow
   rng roF aoe Pow
   12 
  1 
  3 
  12
  s
  FielD allowance 
  2 
  Point cost 
  19 
  Huge Base
   4 18 
  6 
  4 
  7 
  20 
  —
  conQUeSt
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  Among the proudest expressions of Khadoran martial 
  determination, the Conquest is a walking mountain of steel 
  bristling with some of the most powerful weapons ever used 
  on the battlefields of the Iron Kingdoms. It advances slowly 
  but inexorably, weighed down by impenetrable armor 
  and boasting the firepower of a mobile artillery battery. 
  The deafening roar of the colossal’s steam-fed engine is 
  punctuated by the staggering percussion of its devastating 
  guns, which unleash a punishing hail of shells able to 
  reduce warjacks to slag and render the ground impassable. 
  The Conquest began as a triumph of espionage by the 
  Prikaz Chancellery of the Greylords Covenant. Agents 
  within Caspia in the employ of the chancellery discovered a 
  massive project underway there that involved tremendous 
  shifts in mechaniks and other laborers. By the heroic efforts 
  of highly skilled patriots, a number of detailed schematics 
  were secured and eventually brought to industrialist 
  Grand Vizier Simonyev Blaustavya, who discerned the 
  impending birth of a new colossal—and a grave threat to 
  Khador. It took little effort for Blaustavya and the supreme 
  kommandants to convince Empress Vanar to meet the 
  new danger with a colossal of their own. The empress 
  decreed that not only would the Motherland field her own 
  colossals, but the machines would be completed before 
  Cygnar’s. This was the challenge set before the nation.
  Plans for the Conquest were laid out in a matter of weeks. 
  Both the empress and the grand vizier used their formidable 
  presence and political clout to quash all potential opposition, 
  transforming the cost and challenge of the project into a 
  mechanism for gaining favor and prestige. The Greylords 
  Covenant, Khadoran Mechaniks Assembly, and numerous 
  kayazy soon vied for recognition. Though all groups 
  received credit for the effort to one extent or another, the 
  KMA was ultimately recognized as the primary architect of 
  the Conquest due in large part to the political currency and 
  immutable vision of Simonyev Blaustavya.
  l
  r
  l
  r
  
  89
  Given the difficult task of completing the project ahead 
  of Cygnar, Blaustavya quickly arranged for the colossal’s 
  components to be fabricated in numerous factories and 
  workshops across several major cities, particularly Ohk, 
  Khardov, and Korsk. He also modified the arcanum 
  supernum cortex from its Cygnaran schematics to account 
  for his country’s dearth of several vital rare minerals 
  including those required for its refined metal alloys. This 
  Khadoran variant cortex was ultimately less sophisticated, 
  but it could be built quickly and more cheaply. The engineers 
  and mechaniks tasked with designing the Conquest rose to 
  the challenge of devising weapons powerful enough to be 
  worthy of the colossal without requiring the same degree of 
  cortex supervision.
  Ultimately, they looked to the massive guns of the 
  Khadoran Navy’s ironhull warships, whose enormous 
  turrets boasted cannons designed to be fired in tandem, 
  the recoil of one being used to reload the other. This 
  principle proved crucial to the design of the Conquest’s 
  primary guns, as it prevented the need for its cortex to 
  regulate reloading. The main guns were supplemented by 
  two sets of twin-linked cannons. Mounted in the colossal’s 
  shoulders, these guns can lay down an impressive barrage 
  with their high rate of fire. 
  As work progressed, it became clear that the raw materials 
  needed to build the Conquest would be a burden, but the 
  leadership indulged no compromises. Thousands of citizens 
  in Korsk and Khardov went without coal for a winter, and 
  hundreds froze to death—an unfortunate but necessary 
  sacrifice made to fuel the foundries required to smelt ore for 
  the Conquest’s hull. During production, laborers worked in 
  shifts around the clock, and many died of exhaustion or in 
  accidents brought on by fatigue. 
  The combined efforts and concessions resulted in a 
  resounding victory. The first operational Conquest paraded 
  through the Khadoran capital for the benefit of the people 
  and the empress weeks before the Cygnaran Stormwall 
  debuted. With such a symbol of their unrivaled superiority, 
  the Khadorans unleashed the first Conquests upon those 
  who would deny them their right to empire.
  Deployed to the front lines, the Conquest brings unrivaled 
  firepower to Khadoran battlegroups. The tremendous 
  amount of energy needed to operate a machine the size of 
  the Conquest requires an equally impressive amount of coal 
  and water, though, and often entire villages see their fuel 
  supplies requisitioned by passing Khadoran forces. It is a 
  small price to pay for the assurance of dominance under the 
  guns of the Conquest.
  conQUeSt concePtUal deSignS
  
  90
  llael, betWeen laedrY and 
  merYWYn
  Goreshade found something satisfying about placing 
  himself where none of his myriad enemies would 
  dream he might be found. He remembered invading the 
  Morrowan cathedral in the Khadoran capital in pursuit of 
  Nyssor’s vault and the keen gratification that had come 
  with defiling holy ground. His thoughts returned to that 
  as he crouched in the shadows of the cargo car near the 
  rear of a Khadoran train. He could hear the slats clacking 
  as the train pushed on, its engine occasionally letting loose 
  a whistle of steam. He had never ridden a train, and the 
  sense of speed as it passed between Laedry and Merywyn 
  was an interesting novelty.
  Scaverous had been instrumental in discovering his 
  target’s plans, information wrested from the memories of 
  recently killed associates, but it had been his own cunning 
  that had enabled him to sneak aboard the train unseen. 
  It was filled with his enemies, and he was far from any 
  Cryxian support. He had to conclude his business before 
  they reached Merywyn, but he was prepared for this. He 
  remained calm and still, awaiting the response to the note 
  he had sent before beginning this journey. He harbored no 
  doubt she would come. Clandestine activity was meat and 
  drink to her. 
  There was rattling at the connecting access door as 
  someone dealt with the locks and then it slid open, briefly 
  increasing the noise of the tracks rushing by below. She 
  had arrived. In one hand she held something that emitted 
  a cold blue light, and after a moment he saw it was her 
  sword. Her peculiar Orgoth talisman was in the other. He 
  heard her cough at the reek in the air from the necrotite in 
  his armor’s turbine. 
  “Aleksandra Zerkova,” he said, standing to his full height. 
  He had positioned himself to be visible but difficult to reach 
  immediately, behind several low stacks of ammunition and 
  weapons crates. He sensed with some disappointment the 
  Torch was not with her. Things would have been simpler 
  had it been. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a gasp, 
  already drawing on her power. He held up a hand. “This is 
  not an assassination. Quite the contrary.” The note he had 
  sent her had opened with, “I know your greatest secret. You 
  will never recover what has been lost without me.”
  To her credit she stepped forward and stared at him with 
  her good eye, showing no fear. “Speak quickly, eldritch, 
  before I have you destroyed.”
  “It is a simple matter. I seek a temporary partnership, to our 
  mutual benefit.”
  Her eyes narrowed and she said, “I have no reason to risk 
  dealing with you even for a moment.”
  He laughed and said, “I think you do! You lost the frozen 
  vault, and even now chase it. You seek to get ahead of 
  those who stole it from you. Thanks to this conveyance,” 
  he gestured to the car around them, “you may succeed. 
  Covering ground is more difficult for the Iosans, who must 
  travel overland and avoid patrols with their unwieldy 
  burden. You know where they must take it: to Ios, which 
  requires them to pass through occupied Llael.” 
  She was adept at controlling her expression and gave him 
  only an icy stare, but that was no matter. He could predict 
  the thoughts that must be passing through her mind, the 
  questions. The hungry look in her eyes told him the mystery 
  of the vault and its contents haunted her. She said, “I have 
  no need of you. I will reclaim the vault on my own—and 
  destroy you if you interfere.”
  “Perhaps,” he allowed. “You kept the Torch of Khazarak, 
  I hope? Yes, that is the key, the only one. Know this: you 
  will never make it work. It lights only for me.” At last he 
  saw a flicker of some emotion on her face, a widening of the 
  eyes. She felt vindicated; she had expected that relic must be 
  important, and he had confirmed her theories. She did not 
  want to believe him, but he had planted the seed. “We can 
  come to an equitable arrangement. You have the soldiers 
  required to intercept the vault, but without me your key 
  will never fit the lock.”
  He sat back slightly and was silent, allowing his words 
  to creep into her mind like pernicious weeds. It was a 
  delicate balancing act of manipulation. What he had not 
  Cryx
  DEALS MADE IN SHADOW
  
  91
  told Zerkova was that despite his words, he had accepted 
  that he had missed his chance to seize Nyssor. As soon 
  as the vault fell into Ossyan’s hands, he had known the 
  Retribution of Scyrah would succeed in their goal. Their 
  sect was, if nothing else, persistent and unwavering. 
  Nyssor’s return to Ios was inevitable. Zerkova clung 
  to false hopes, but he was willing to use that to his 
  advantage.
  Goreshade had opted to play a deeper game, to enact 
  contingencies requiring certain pieces set in motion with 
  tremendous precision. Zerkova was one. She had secured 
  the Torch, and Goreshade lacked the armed might to take 
  it from her at this moment. Even if he could, Nyssor’s 
  vault would soon be in Ios, secured at one of the Iosan 
  fanes. Goreshade had no choice but to return to his former 
  homeland. He had long ago prepared the means by which 
  this could be facilitated, knowing it was the only way he 
  could reach Scyrah. There were eldritch in Eversael who 
  would do his bidding. What he required now was a means 
  to get the Torch of Kharazak into Ios as well, lest Nyssor 
  remain frozen and unassailable.
  He could never succeed in carrying such a powerful 
  profaned relic past the borders undetected. The route by 
  which he would enter that nation could not be the same 
  as the Torch. His plan would work only if the Retribution 
  brought it, willingly, believing it represented their salvation. 
  Even better if they felt compelled to safeguard it by keeping 
  it near Nyssor’s vault. Staring at Zerkova, he could see she 
  had already reached the decision to play along—until she 
  could betray him.
  the thornWood
  Deneghra managed the retreat from Point Bourne smoothly, 
  yet she took little satisfaction in this. That city had been 
  intended to be the staging area to demonstrate perfect 
  coordination and planning, including the smooth transfer 
  of Lich Lord Venethrax and his prize to the protection of 
  Skarre Ravenmane. It seemed to her that any aspect of the 
  plan she had not personally overseen had been rife with 
  mistakes. Not that Venethrax’s absence could have been 
  foreseen, but it rankled that her careful orchestration had 
  gone to waste.
  Skarre had been irate with the notion of lingering behind 
  unsupported to await Venethrax and had confronted 
  Asphyxious directly. When their argument escalated, 
  Deneghra had been forced to intervene in order to prevent 
  violence between the two. Ordinarily she would have taken 
  pleasure from seeing Asphyxious put the pirate queen in 
  her place, but she knew Ravenmane would then poison 
  Venethrax to their cause in their absence, and it was vital 
  to their ambitions that he praised Asphyxious’ role in the 
  athanc’s recovery to Lord Toruk. 
  Despite the fact that they had needed to withdraw from 
  Point Bourne, significant gains had been made there. They 
  had lost the thralls left behind to forestall their enemies, of 
  course, but they had reaped a wealth of new war material, 
  including a harvest of fresh souls. The capture of Karchev 
  the Terrible was a point of particular pride, and she savored 
  imagining his fate. Though the revelation of his capture did 
  not immediately spur his comrades to foolish acts of heroism, 
  she knew it would goad them into pursuit. The Khadorans 
  and Cygnarans together had followed eagerly into the forest 
  and pressed north, gathering strength as they were joined by 
  others formerly stationed along the Dragon’s Tongue. 
  Indeed, the alacrity with which the enemies were gathering 
  their might had begun to alarm Deneghra. Her initial plan 
  had been to linger back with a small force to nip at their 
  heels as they advanced, thereby disrupting and stalling 
  them. Asphyxious had irritably insisted such measures 
  were unnecessary and forbade her. He was content to 
  leave behind only those peripheral facilities created over 
  the last year to stand as obstacles and enticements to the 
  advancing armies. These sites had served their primary 
  purposes, such as extracting necrotite and remains from 
  ancient battlefields, but their defenses remained, including 
  thralls emplaced to secure them. He insisted that sacrificing 
  these sites to the enemy would lull them into a false sense 
  of accomplishment. In Deneghra’s mind, such efforts were 
  paltry and too few against the considerable armed force the 
  Cygnarans and Khadorans were beginning to raise against 
  them. While it had been her suggestion to lure them into 
  the Thornwood, not once did she underestimate the threat 
  those nations posed to Cryx. She worried Asphyxious had 
  become overconfident.
  Regular reports of the disposition of the allied armies began 
  to arrive from her spectral scouts, confirming their rapid 
  progress. Added to this, she had to deal with cephalyx 
  emissaries who complained about the destruction of a 
  section of their tunnel network in the northwestern forest. 
  She pacified them and reminded them of the abundant 
  harvest of drudges recently provided them in the sack of 
  Point Bourne. 
  The collapse they spoke of was the same one that had nearly 
  thwarted Lich Lord Venethrax and the athanc he sought to 
  recover. The blackclad druids were behind this, just as they 
  had sunk the Temple Garrodh two years earlier. What was 
  the cost to perform such rituals? In the face of such a threat, 
  she had to wonder if the Thornwood Central Necrofactorium 
  was secure. When she had brought the matter to Asphyxious’ 
  attention, he had become wroth, dismissing the power of 
  the blackclads as insignificant. It was clear he did not wish 
  to hear anything further on that topic. With each passing 
  day he became more temperamental about any suggestion 
  of potential vulnerability to his great work.
  
  92
  As soon as they reached the necrofactorium she set about 
  preparing their defenses, knowing they had little time. 
  A number of the measures they planned to implement in 
  defense of the facility had yet to be completed, and she 
  did what she could to expedite them. She also personally 
  supervised securing Karchev within the heart of the 
  necrofactorium’s occult laboratories.
  Returning to Asphyxious, she was surprised to find him 
  not also working to improve their fortifications but rather 
  occupied at his forge. Several of the complex’s most skilled 
  necrotechs were laboring on refinements to his armored 
  frame while he crafted a new weapon from his old. He 
  had taken the essence of Daeamortus and transferred it 
  to a broad-bladed sword. Deneghra watched him with 
  irritation, wondering why he would pick such a time for 
  this task. At the same time, she could not help but admire 
  his skill at these arts, so far beyond her own capabilities. 
  In the fabrication of occult weaponry, Asphyxious had 
  few equals.
  “I call it Daimonion,” he said to her, raising the weapon 
  before him. He returned to inscribing runes on its length as 
  he asked, “Art thou pleased to be home?”
  “Of course. But there is much to do, and our enemies 
  come closer with each passing hour.” Until recently she 
  had at least felt a sense of invulnerability and safety 
  within the heart of Asphyxious’ power, but that was no 
  longer true. The disquieting encounter with Malathrax, 
  the confrontation with the Old Witch, and the reports of 
  the cave collapse atop Venethrax—all had stripped away 
  her belief that this place was inviolable. “I thought you 
  might have the chance to attend to Karchev, now that we 
  are here.” 
  Asphyxious waved a clawed hand dismissively. “In due 
  time. Thou hast the impatience of the living! Another matter 
  is at hand.” She was uncertain what he meant until the door 
  to the chamber opened and a slender woman in revealing 
  leathers strode in, her head hooded and masked. Deneghra 
  blinked, for a moment taken aback to recognize Helleana, 
  of the Witch Coven of Garlghast. The young witch strode 
  forward and gave Asphyxious a bow carefully measured to 
  provide just the barest respect.
  Turning away from his work to face her, Asphyxious did not 
  speak for a long moment, staring at her in silence. Finally he 
  asked, “Which one are you, and where are your sisters?”
  “Helleana, my lord. The others were needed elsewhere,” 
  she said evasively. Asphyxious faced her more fully at 
  this, and while others may have found it difficult to 
  perceive emotions behind the iron frame, Deneghra knew 
  from his posture that his temper was close to flaring at 
  this blatant disrespect. The Coven should have come to 
  speak with him as one.
  The witch continued, uncaring. “Lord Terminus has need 
  of war supplies, including additional thralls; the forces 
  allocated to him have proven inadequate. I will convey his 
  demands to you.”
  Asphyxious soared down from the elevated platform of his 
  forge with frightful speed and was upon Helleana before she 
  could blink. Just as quickly she found the heavy scalloped 
  edge of his new blade against the side of her throat. It made 
  a slight keening noise and seemed to push into her living 
  flesh of its own accord, and the eye inhabiting the blade 
  stared hungrily at her. She froze and the blood drained from 
  her face as she stared at Asphyxious as if transfixed. “At this 
  moment it requires more effort not to kill thee and take thy 
  soul,” he hissed. 
  “My lord—” she began, but she stopped as the sword bit, 
  sending a trickle of blood down her neck. Deneghra eyed 
  this exchange with some alarm, wondering if Asphyxious 
  had lost all self-control. The Witch Coven were no friends 
  of hers, but she could see no benefit in Helleana’s execution.
  Asphyxious continued, “Inadequate? My armies? He would 
  make demands? I think not! Tell thy master that if he needs 
  to beg my assistance, he can do so in person. Now begone!” 
  She had the sense to do as bid. In theory the Coven enjoyed 
  the protection of Lich Lord Terminus, but Asphyxious had 
  made it clear how little that mattered to him. Deneghra felt 
  profound relief when Helleana rushed from the chamber.
  After the metal doors closed, Asphyxious examined his 
  newly forged blade, staring at the drops of blood upon it. 
  He said, “I almost thought she would give me an excuse to 
  test its edge.”
  Deneghra chose her words carefully. “I would have expected 
  you might be eager to demonstrate how much Terminus 
  relies upon you by letting him become indebted.”
  Asphyxious turned toward her, his eye gleaming. “He 
  seeks to insult me, sending an emissary. Since I seized 
  Morbus’ domain, I have anticipated the prospect of 
  seeing Terminus come begging for my scraps. Let him be 
  the one to govern his words and swallow his pride as he 
  grovels before me.”
  Deneghra shook her head and said, “He has his own pride. 
  He will not grovel but will approach armed and ready 
  for battle. We can ill afford to fight him with two armies 
  “at this moment it requires 
  more effort not to kill  
  thee and take thY soul.”
  
  93
  approaching!” She realized she had said too much. He 
  stepped toward her with a look that she found deeply 
  unsettling, as though he was considering her no different 
  from the witch he had sent fleeing the chamber.
  “Let him come! I welcome such a conflict! He is cut off 
  from his own army, and his strength is pitiful at best. I 
  will destroy him and the Cygnarans and Khadorans all 
  at once if need be! Dost thou disagree? Dost thou think 
  me incapable of this feat?” His voice sounded deeply 
  suspicious.
  “Of course not,” she said. Deneghra knew better than 
  to argue with him when he was in this sort of mood and 
  quickly took her leave, concealing how greatly his words 
  disturbed her. Perhaps his ego had outstripped his reason. 
  The last thing they needed was a renewal of the feud with 
  Terminus. The timing of such a potential conflict could not 
  have been worse. Even lacking a proper army, Lich Lord 
  Terminus was as formidable a being as existed in Cryx. 
  Lesser thralls were built to obey the lich lords and were not 
  necessarily discriminating; there could be no guarantees 
  that many of Asphyxious’ minions would not turn on him 
  should Terminus command it. The army Deneghra had 
  worked to accumulate could be divided to consume itself, 
  just as the mortal armies converged.
  She felt turmoil deep in the core of her being, a sensation 
  of powerfully conflicted emotions. She was bound to 
  Asphyxious, body and soul, and the thought of acting 
  against him prompted almost physical pain. Yet he had 
  charged her with administrating his dominion. It was her 
  responsibility to do what she must to preserve his power, 
  even if that meant going beyond his orders. It was her place 
  to be cunning enough to comprehend when his ambitions 
  made him his own worst enemy. She had failed to advise 
  him when he had invoked the power of the Temple Garrodh, 
  and he had nearly been destroyed.
  For his own good, she must act. She strode quickly from 
  the complex, transforming into a wraith to pass through 
  the intervening walls until she reached a passage Helleana 
  would need to take on her more circuitous route out. 
  She kept hidden and followed the witch as she left the 
  necrofactorium and rejoined a pair of Stalker bonejacks. 
  It had become second nature to Deneghra to hide the 
  otherwise telltale signs of her presence from other 
  warcasters. Were circumstances otherwise she might 
  have enjoyed toying with Helleana, but that was not her 
  mission. She stepped forth and became substantial in front 
  of Helleana. The witch stopped abruptly, her hand going 
  to the dagger at her waist. Her Stalkers tensed as well, 
  their blades quivering with readiness. Deneghra said, 
  “Helleana, you should have come to me first rather than 
  approaching my lord. You know better.”
  Helleana’s expression adopted its familiar look of disdain, 
  but one hand instinctively reached to touch the cut on her 
  neck. She said, “I did as my lord instructed. He will not be 
  pleased when he learns Asphyxious intends to withhold.”
  Deneghra said sincerely, “Please, forget my lord’s demeanor; 
  he was in a foul temper. I have been empowered to make 
  arrangements for our necrofactorium.”
  Helleana was clearly skeptical. “Asphyxious seemed firm 
  on the matter.”
  Deneghra sensed new arrivals before they stepped from 
  the trees, although they were very close before she could 
  feel them: Morgaen and Selene, bringing the Coven to 
  completion. The Egregore floated silently between, forever 
  oozing its flows of spectral darkness. Since her death 
  and rebirth, Deneghra had found the entity even more 
  disquieting, as she could feel its alien mind pressing against 
  her own when it was near. The air between the sisters held 
  tremendous potency. She turned to greet them. “I did not 
  expect to find you here. I thought you occupied in Llael.”
  Selene shrugged and said, “Efforts there are ongoing, but 
  there were setbacks.” Deneghra could see a livid scar on 
  her exposed side, the puckered remnant of what must have 
  been a ghastly wound. The Coven healed quickly, so that 
  injury must have been nearly fatal. “Lord Terminus sends 
  us as a courtesy. If you refuse us, he will take what he needs. 
  Tell that to your master.”
  “I am here on my own,” Deneghra said. “But I believe I can 
  provide what you require.”
  Morgaen laughed lightly. “That is difficult to believe. You 
  are Asphyxious’ puppet. What game is this?”
  Deneghra glared back. “I am no puppet, and the stakes are 
  too high to fight among ourselves. The endeavor for which 
  we all labor is at a crucial juncture. Each of us has done our 
  part to return Toruk’s athanc, but new obstacles have arisen. 
  Khador and Cygnar have allied and send their armies here 
  to root us out. We will need all the forces we have gathered 
  to stand against them.”
  Helleana said, “Lord Terminus will not accept such excuses.”
  “Listen to my words,” Deneghra said firmly. “I will arrange 
  for helljacks, bonejacks, and thralls to be delivered to Lord 
  Terminus. Not as many as he would like, I am sure, but 
  we can reach an accommodation. But there is a condition. 
  Two, in fact.”
  Selene scoffed, “You would place conditions on a lich lord?”
  “First,” Deneghra continued as if she had not been 
  interrupted, “you should know that Lord Venethrax has been 
  delayed and lacks adequate support to protect the athanc. 
  This means our shared endeavor is in peril. I will arrange 
  
  94
  for weapons to be delivered to Terminus, but only if he will 
  use them to assist Venethrax in taking the athanc south. Your 
  master should have no disagreements with this.”
  “If Lord Venethrax is so much on your mind, why not 
  intercede personally?” Morgaen asked. 
  “The allied armies I mentioned are marching here. We 
  antagonized them deliberately to lure them, so that all eyes 
  will be on us and not Venethrax. Our hands will be full 
  battling Cygnarans and Khadorans.”
  Helleana seemed to accept this and asked, “Your second 
  condition?”
  “Simple.” Deneghra smiled again. “Asphyxious is to hear 
  nothing of this arrangement. I do what I must to aid Cryx, 
  to serve Toruk, but keep this matter between us.” The sisters 
  shared a look and nodded as one before turning to depart, 
  the Egregore trailing behind.
  Unknown to all of them, this meeting had an audience of 
  one. Hovering in the deeper darkness not far from their 
  position was a spectral creature, a wraith with a knack 
  for remaining unseen and an equally vital talent for being 
  in the right place at the right time. In life he had been 
  Thomas Ketchum, and he had learned how to make himself 
  invaluable to his superior officers. Ketchum had put that 
  identity well behind him. He had not, however, abandoned 
  his skills and cunning. He had risen in Deneghra’s favor, a 
  task that required nothing more than doing what was asked 
  of him, and doing it competently. 
  He had been set on this task by his true master, and it had 
  been so long since he had received a summons that Ketchum 
  had almost begun to forget his original orders. His memory 
  was not what it once had been. Several times in recent 
  weeks he had wondered if he should risk returning early 
  to his master, but his instincts had held him back. The little 
  kernels of information he had gathered seemed insufficient. 
  Now the time had come. Malathrax would want to know of 
  this meeting. Yes, he thought, this was just the sort of thing I 
  was waiting for. He drifted off to the west, passing as a ghost 
  through tree and underbrush
  At last the tirelessly laboring thralls had cleared a wide 
  enough opening to escape the collapsed tunnel, although 
  Venethrax mistrusted the improvised struts and supports 
  the necrotechs had placed to shore up the earthworks. The 
  creatures were brilliant in their way with machinery, but 
  their overall engineering expertise was dubious. It fell 
  to his helljacks to haul the damaged athanc-containment 
  conveyance forth, a slow and tedious process. He needed 
  to inspect the enormous mechanism, something that would 
  be possible only when it was fully extracted from the 
  half-collapsed tunnel. Thus far, though, the containment 
  seemed intact. 
  He did not understand the peculiar and ancient 
  mechanism, but it seemed the Rhulfolk’s skill at crafting 
  durable machinery predated the modern era; the worst 
  of the damage had been to the Cryxian-made elements of 
  the transport, specifically the undercarriage and the great 
  wheels. The necrotechs reported three of the steam engines 
  powering the machine had been crushed and disabled, yet 
  clearly it had been built with considerable redundancy, 
  as the metal bands that created the mystical barrier 
  within which the athanc was secured still spun in their 
  arcs emitting their powerful and inexplicable energies. 
  However this mechanism somehow preserved the long-
  defeated dragon’s athanc, he had to trust that item was 
  still intact. Inch by inch the enormous wagon and its load 
  was pulled forth from the rubble and into the broader 
  tunnel. It would not be long before the necrotechs could 
  reach and hopefully repair its undercarriage. 
  Leaving the thralls and helljacks momentarily to their labor, 
  Venethrax climbed up out of the tunnel and into the dark 
  forest through the exit they had carved after the tunnel 
  collapse. He had lost much during that disaster and now 
  possessed only a barely adequate escort. This had greatly 
  occupied his mind, yet no act of will would speed the slow 
  process of extraction.
  Lich Lord Malathrax stood at the edge of the improvised 
  clearing in whispered communication with a ghostly pistol 
  wraith. Malathrax’s tall but slender frame was hidden 
  beneath the flowing lengths of black robes set with metal 
  plates, each inscribed with occult sigils. Shifting lumps 
  could be seen wriggling beneath the cloth, evidence of 
  Malathrax’s peculiar spiderlike necromechanikal minions. 
  Otherwise the lich’s most notable feature was his ever-
  shifting metallic face, an intricate mechanism of mosaic 
  panels that created a variety of masks. Venethrax eyed him 
  warily; the circumstances around the discovery of the athanc 
  were still exceedingly suspicious. Malathrax had always 
  seemed loyal to Lord Toruk but in recent centuries had 
  become increasingly reluctant to dispense the information 
  that was ostensibly his primary function and area of 
  oversight. There was also the timing of the disappearances 
  of both Goreshade and Lord Exhumator Scaverous, who 
  had gone on some unspecified errand before the column 
  entered the tunnels. The Cryxian spymaster protested 
  ignorance, but Venethrax did not believe him. 
  
  95
  Seeing Venethrax emerge, Malathrax made a gesture and 
  the pistol wraith inclined its head and moved back into the 
  trees. It was not uncommon for Malathrax to receive regular 
  ghostly apparitions bringing morsels of information. 
  Turning to Venethrax, Malathrax asked, “How goes the 
  work below?” The panels of his masked metal face folded 
  back and reformed into the guise of a goat-like beast with 
  small curved horns.
  “Slow, but we will have it free soon. Have you learned 
  anything of the tunnel collapse?” 
  “No more than before. The cause was organized and 
  supernatural; we both felt the manifestations. Blackclads, 
  I am sure, but there is no sign of them yet. I am perturbed 
  they were able to pinpoint our location. If they know they 
  failed to destroy us, I expect we will be visited by them 
  soon enough.” His mask clicked over to resemble a cherubic 
  childlike visage.
  Sudden movement behind Malathrax caught Venethrax’s 
  attention. He raised Wyrmbane and began to summon 
  his inner fire. A large, eyeless bat-like creature flew into 
  the clearing. Venethrax raised a metal-clawed hand as 
  green flame manifested in his palm, preparing to hurl it 
  at the beast. He was a moment too slow. Malathrax had 
  not moved or even turned to face the winged thing, but 
  a pattern of runes erupted like a crown around his head, 
  and a dark nimbus that crackled like thunder appeared 
  around the creature. The thing contorted, turning inside 
  out as its skeleton split from its flesh and fell as individual 
  bones down into the undergrowth along with its its blood, 
  tissues, and organs. Malathrax turned and peered at the 
  gore impassively. “Ah. Dragonspawn. It seems we have 
  been found.”
  Venethrax strode forward and prodded at the remains, 
  irritated Malathrax had left so little to identify to creature. 
  Still, he had already recognized it as a harrier, the flying 
  counterpart to the akriel, described in ancient texts of 
  Morrdh. “Everblight.”
  “Yes,” Malathrax said. “Not long ago Mortenebra had a 
  run-in with a number of similar spawn to the southeast. I 
  have sent feelers out among my contacts seeking additional 
  information on them. They are behaving in a way that is 
  not at all in keeping with known lore on dragonspawn. I 
  suspect you know this already.”
  Venethrax was barely listening as he scanned the trees 
  around them. “This creature may have been a lone scout. 
  But we should prepare against imminent attack, as others 
  will likely follow.” He summoned several of his helljacks 
  from below, leaving the rest to their task of hauling the 
  transport from the rubble. Through their eyes he saw 
  they had gotten it partially clear, enough for two of his 
  necrotechs to begin working on it. The rear portion was 
  still inaccessible. 
  The silver mosaic layers of Malathrax’s mask clicked over 
  to create a leering fiend. “That is one course we could take. 
  But I think we need to consider the necessity of removing 
  the athanc from its containment and securing it elsewhere 
  until more reinforcements can gather. I have several secure 
  locations that might serve—” 
  “No,” Venethrax interrupted. “That will not be happening.”
  Malathrax shrugged as his mask turned cherubic. “I was 
  just informed by one of my subordinates that we may be 
  receiving aid from Terminus soon, although he has sought 
  reinforcements from Asphyxious, who is being troublesome 
  as always. I expect we will be on our own if we need wait 
  for those two to come to agreement.”
  Venethrax glowered at the spymaster and finally said, 
  “Make yourself useful and go ensure reinforcements are 
  incoming. Find Terminus and tell him time is of the essence. 
  We have no time for Asphyxious’ games.”
  The other lich lord’s fingers twitched as if agitated and he 
  said, “Surely my place should be here, with the athanc. 
  What if you are attacked while I am away?”
  “I will manage,” Venethrax said through his teeth.
  “Of course,” Malathrax said. “I am, as ever, pleased to be 
  of assistance, and it is true combat is not my forte.” He 
  sounded apologetic as he looked down again at the pile of 
  gore that had been a dragonspawn and then stepped into 
  the shadows.
  the thinG Contorted, turninG 
  inside out as its skeleton 
  sPlit from its flesh and  
  fell as individual bones.
  
  96
  FEAt: RItES oF 
  SHAdoW 
  When the time is right, 
  Asphyxious the Hellbringer 
  invokes the Rites of Shadow 
  to enfold the battlefield in a 
  spiritual darkness of his own 
  design. Amid this flickering 
  landscape, the magic of his 
  enemies is tainted. With every 
  incantation his iron frame 
  is mended, while the restless 
  souls of the slaughtered rise 
  only to be harvested to fuel the 
  Hellbringer’s powers. 
  When an enemy model is forced, casts a spell, and/or spends 1 
  or more focus or fury points while in Asphyxious’ control area, 
  Asphyxious heals d3 damage points and gains one soul token. 
  Rites of Shadow lasts for one round.  
  ASPHyXIouS 
   terror
   undead
  Cull Soul – This model gains one soul token for each living 
  enemy model destroyed within 2˝ of it. When this model 
  replenishes its focus during your next Control Phase, replace 
  each soul token on it with 1 focus point. 
  dAIMoNIoN 
   Magical Weapon
   Reach
  Blood Boon – Once per activation, immediately after resolving 
  an attack in which it destroyed a living enemy model with this 
  weapon, this model can cast a spell with COST 3 or less without 
  spending focus. 
  tACtICAl tIPS
  bone Shaker – Because a boxed model is removed from play 
  before being destroyed, it does not generate a soul or corpse token. 
  CuLL SouL – A model can have more focus points than its FOCUS 
  as a result of Cull Soul. 
  hex bLaSt – Because they expire immediately, upkeep spells and 
  animi that had an effect when the model/unit was hit or damaged 
  will have no effect. 
  riteS of Shadow – Cull Soul converts tokens gained from Rites 
  of Shadow into focus points. If a model casts a spell by spending 
  focus or fury, Rites of Shadow triggers only once.  
  ASHEN VEIl 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly model/unit gains concealment. Living enemy models 
  suffer –2 to attack rolls while within 2˝ of an affected model. 
  BoNE SHAkER 
  2 
  8 
  – 
  12 
  No yES 
  When this spell boxes a living or undead non-warcaster, non-warlock 
  enemy warrior model, you can immediately make a full advance with the 
  enemy model followed by a normal melee attack, then the boxed model 
  is removed from play. The boxed model cannot be targeted by free strikes 
  during this movement. 
  CARNAgE 
  3 
  SElF CtRl 
  – 
  No No 
  Friendly Faction models gain +2 to melee attack rolls against enemy 
  models in this model’s control area. Carnage lasts for one turn. 
  HEX BlASt 
  3 
  10 
  3 
  13 
  No yES 
  Enemy upkeep spells and animi on the model/unit directly hit by Hex 
  Blast immediately expire. 
  MoBIlIty 
  2 
  SElF CtRl 
  – 
  No No 
  Models in this model’s battlegroup currently in its control area gain +2 
  SPD and Pathfinder 
   for one turn. 
  SCytHINg touCH 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly model/unit gains +2 to melee attack damage rolls. Affected 
  models gain Critical Corrosion 
   on their normal melee attacks. 
  SPEllS 
  CoSt RNg AoE PoW 
  uP oFF
   6 
  8 
  6 
  3 
  15 17 
  9
  Focus 
  7 
  Damage 
  18 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  warjack Points 
  +4 
  meDium Base
  aSPHyXioUS 
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  daimonion
   
  8 
  16
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  More than one thousand years of preparation, intrigue, 
  and nested contingencies have brought Asphyxious closer 
  than ever to his goal of rising above the other lich lords to 
  stand as Toruk’s most invaluable general. He has carved 
  out a subterranean empire filled with necromechanikal 
  terrors, having built a ghastly army that stands ready to 
  answer his every command. Even those Cryxian lords who 
  despise him and deem themselves his equal have been 
  forced to turn to him for aid, as he alone holds the key to 
  unleashing the vast might of the Nightmare Empire. 
  Since the moment the druid who would eventually 
  become a lich lord chose to leap to his death as a sign 
  of commitment to the Dragonfather and rose again in 
  undeath, Asphyxious has chosen a path meant to ensure 
  his eternal status as Toruk’s most favored servant. Whereas 
  once he was deemed merely a useful minion in the arsenal 
  of Lich Lord Daeamortus, little more than a skilled 
  scavenger feeding on the periphery of mainland wars, 
  he has since risen to change the very shape of Cryxian 
  leadership. Even his failures and defeats have ultimately 
  advanced his position, as he has the tenacity as well as 
  the ability and desire to adapt and exploit every possible 
  advantage. In recent years his plans have begun to unfold 
  with exponential speed. Even serious setbacks like the 
  destruction of the Temple of Garrodh have prepared the 
  Thornwood for its one and true master.
  Asphyxious’ greatest accomplishment is undoubtedly the 
  great necrofactorium that sprawls beneath the Thornwood. 
  Only the deathless city of Skell, capital of the Cryxian 
  Where his shadow falls, hell follows.
  —Wraith Witch Deneghra
   
  Asphyxious the hellbringer & VoCiFeron
  CRyX EPIC WARCAStER & CHARACtER Solo
  
  97
  
  aSPHyXioUS
  98
  empire, can rival this immense creation of his. Leveraging 
  dark pacts made with the enigmatic cephalyx, Asphyxious 
  has directed the extensive excavation beneath the soil of the 
  Thornwood for years, guiding the work that now connects 
  the upper reaches of a vast cavern with a network of tunnels 
  that have never been seen by any surface dweller. Only a 
  mind as devious and ancient as Asphyxious’ could have 
  hoped to parley with such strange allies. What payment he 
  promised them for their cooperation—beyond the provision 
  of countless living slaves—remains unknown to any but the 
  iron lich and the cephalyx themselves. Whatever the cost, 
  he gained invaluable access to their subterranean facilities 
  and ongoing aid. 
  Once the tunnels were established, Asphyxious set about 
  installing a vast abattoir and factory complex within, 
  making use of the plentiful product of battle: both those 
  corpses his forces gathered in their own quiet raids and 
  those bodies harvested from the ongoing conflicts between 
  the petty nations of mankind. Asphyxious removed one 
  obstacle after another, ensuring the preeminence of his 
  work in the great war he knew was not long to come. The 
  latest of these obstacles was the overseer of Cryxian war 
  industry, Lich Lord Morbus, who arrived on the mainland 
  to urge patience and advocate slow growth. When 
  Morbus threatened to seize control of the Thornwood 
  necrofactoriums and impede progress, Asphyxious 
  encouraged Deneghra’s scheme to lure the lich lord to his 
  destruction while obfuscating the conspiracy by allowing 
  Cygnar to deal the fatal blow. Consequently, Asphyxious 
  at last firmly established himself as the master of Cryxian 
  war industry. 
  Asphyxious is willing to make any sacrifice to advance his 
  schemes. As far as he is concerned, eliminating Cryxians 
  too inept or incautious to protect themselves only serves 
  to strengthen the armies of the Dragonfather. Ultimately, 
  his work has culminated in the production of several of 
  the mighty Krakens he will unleash just when his enemies 
  think he is simply cornered in his lair. Asphyxious has 
  spent years overseeing the labor that has produced 
  countless necromechanikal terrors, a rising tide of death 
  waiting to be unleashed. Their time has arrived.
  As Toruk’s war on his progeny rapidly approaches, the 
  other lich lords must make obeisance to Asphyxious 
  if they wish to avail themselves of the war resources 
  he now controls, which they need to supply their own 
  discrete armies. The forces that have begun to emerge 
  from beneath the Thornwood are no mere raiding parties 
  or even battalions; rather, they are the great hosts Lord 
  Toruk intends his lich lords to use to weaken his draconic 
  progeny so he can consume them. Should Caen be razed in 
  the passage of these hosts, it is of no consequence. Those 
  few souls fortunate enough to have escaped the brief 
  Cryxian occupation of Point Bourne have had a glimpse of 
  the world Asphyxious would leave behind him: a charnel 
  land of inescapable death where souls are nothing but fuel 
  for the Dragonfather and his machinations.
  To aid him in his great work Asphyxious has crafted 
  Vociferon, a skarlock of special cunning that he has 
  perfectly equipped to serve as a conduit for souls. Created 
  from carefully prepared materials and bathed in blighted 
  energies, Vociferon benefits from Asphyxious’ artistic 
  and impressive mastery of thrall runes. It carries a battle 
  standard of death and discord that resonates with unholy 
  
  VoCIFERoN 
   Arc Node
   Commander
   undead
  Arcane Extension 
  [Asphyxious the 
  Hellbringer] – During your 
  Control Phase, while this 
  model is in Asphyxious the 
  Hellbringer’s control area 
  Asphyxious the Hellbringer 
  can allocate focus to warjacks in his battlegroup that are in this 
  model’s command range. 
  Attached to [Asphyxious the Hellbringer] – This model is 
  attached to Asphyxious the Hellbringer for the rest of the game. 
  Each warcaster can have only one model attached to it. 
  Companion [Asphyxious the Hellbringer] – This model 
  is included in any army that includes Asphyxious the 
  Hellbringer. If Asphyxious is destroyed or removed from 
  play, remove this model from play. This model is part of 
  Asphyxious’ battlegroup.  
  death Harvest – If this model is in its warcaster’s control range 
  during your Maintenance Phase, you can take any number of 
  soul tokens from this model and place them on the warcaster.  
  ghost Shield – This model gains +1 ARM for each soul token 
  currently on it. 
  Soul Collector – This model gains one soul token when a 
  living enemy model is destroyed in its command range. This 
  model can have up to three soul tokens at a time. During its 
  activation, this model can spend soul tokens to gain additional 
  attacks or to boost attack or damage rolls at one token per 
  attack or boost. 
   6 
  5 
  5 
  3 
  13 16 
  9
  Damage 
  5 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  small Base
  vociFeron 
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  clawS
   
  3 
  8
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  99
  tACtICAl tIP
  death harveSt – Cull Soul converts tokens gained from Death 
  Harvest into focus points.  
  intent, for it was made to collect the essences of all who 
  perish within its reach. Going about its soul harvests with 
  nefarious intellect, Vociferon has sanction to speak with 
  the lich lord’s voice and direct lesser minions. 
  Ready to unleash his host upon western Immoren and 
  demonstrate his imperishable convictions, Asphyxious 
  faces the prospect of upcoming battles with keen 
  anticipation. He intends to play a key role in bringing 
  Lord Toruk the victories the dragon hungers for—and 
  thus elevate himself above all others. All that lives 
  shall look upon his armies and tremble as the world is 
  reduced to ashen waste and its people become no more 
  than howling souls in the clutches of Asphyxious the 
  Hellbringer.
  
  100
  
  KrAKen
  the broken Coast, 585 ar
  At first, assigning a ship of the line to ferry a few Cygnaran 
  academics from Ceryl to Mercir had seemed a waste of 
  naval resources to First Mate Boors, but now he regretted 
  they were out on the seas at all. A black tentacle swept past 
  him to knock three men from the rigging to the deck below, 
  and he could only tighten his grip and climb toward the 
  crow’s nest.
  Only moments before, the night sea off the coast of Cygnar 
  had been calm. Captain Kilkenny had set double watches 
  against the threat of attack by Cryxian raiders, but the HMS 
  Benewic had had not seen action in weeks. 
  At the first great thud shaking the deck planks he had 
  thought they had run against some unseen rock or shoal, 
  and he had heard the captain yell orders to turn hard to 
  port. Shouts had died in their throats as a second impact 
  struck the hull from the opposite side, this time with greater 
  violence, throwing several seamen from the deck into the 
  water. Boors had looked down to see the water churning 
  white as a great black shape emerged. His eyes widened 
  at the sight of what must be a beast of the ocean depths—
  something from stories told to frighten children.
  He hauled himself higher, watching in shock as a pair of 
  massive tentacles punched through the ship’s side and then 
  up through its deck. One wrapped around a Buccaneer and 
  pulled the ’jack into the sea along with two crew members 
  trying to reload a nearby cannon. The other tendril swept 
  the deck clear and hurled men indiscriminately over the 
  rails. Sailors screamed and the water churned red as they 
  were smashed against wreckage that had been pulled free 
  of the listing ship. 
  As the terrified crew and passengers poured onto the 
  deck, the great bulk of the beast emerged from the waves. 
  A tentacle shot up from the foaming chaos of the water to 
  snatch up a cabin boy, then tossed him aside in favor of a 
  Cygnaran university professor. The old man screamed as 
  the tendril pulled him into a gaping opening in the side of 
  the creature’s body before it vanished once more below the 
  churning water.
  Boors climbed higher still, knowing the Benewic was lost. He 
  hoped only that the creature was sated, a thought that was 
  interrupted when a great black tentacle shot up from the 
  water and wrapped itself around him despite his screams. 
  As Boors was thrust into the yawning hole, he smelled the 
  scent of blood mixed with iron and knew that this was no 
  beast, but a machine that would be his tomb.
  101
  
  HeigHt / WeigHt: 27′ / 85 tons
  ArmAment: heLLbLaster cannon (integraL), fLayer cannon (integraL), twin 
  harVesters (Left and right arms)
  Fuel loAd / Burn usAge: unknown
  initiAl service dAte: unknown
  cortex mAnuFActurer: unknown
  orig. cHAssis design: unknown
  102
  kRAkEN 
  Amphibious – This model 
  ignores the effects of deep 
  and shallow water and can 
  move through them without 
  penalty. While completely 
  in deep water, it cannot 
  be targeted by ranged or 
  magic attacks and can make 
  attacks only against other 
  models in deep water.  
  While completely in deep 
  water, this model does not 
  block LOS. 
  Collector – If this model 
  has fewer than three 
  corpse tokens when it 
  boxes a living enemy 
  model as the result of a 
  melee attack, remove the 
  boxed model from play 
  and give this model a 
  corpse token. During your Control Phase, you can spend up 
  to three corpse tokens to allocate this model 1 focus point 
  for each corpse token spent. This model can have up to three 
  corpse tokens at a time.
  kill Shot – Once per activation, when a living enemy model is 
  destroyed or removed from play as a result of a melee attack 
  made by this model during its activation, immediately after 
  that attack is resolved this model can make one normal ranged 
  attack ignoring ROF. 
  Meat-Fueled – This model gains +1 STR for each corpse 
  token on it.  
  HEllBlAStER 
  doom driver – For each corpse token on this model, this 
  weapon gains +1 to damage rolls.  
  FlAyER 
  Rapid Fire [d3+1] – When you decide to make initial attacks 
  with this weapon at the beginning of this model’s combat 
  action, roll d3+1. The total rolled is the number of initial attacks 
  this model can make with this weapon during the combat 
  action, ignoring ROF. 
  HARVEStER 
   open Fist
  Chain Strike – This weapon has a 4˝ melee range during this 
  model’s activation. 
  Chain Weapon – This attack ignores the Buckler and Shield 
  weapon qualities and Shield Wall. 
  tACtICAl tIPS
  amphibiouS – This model can attack other models that are in 
  deep water. 
  Chain weapon – Chain weapon does not modify the melee range 
  of power attacks made by this model.
  CoLLeCtor – Because a boxed model is removed from play before 
  being destroyed, it does not generate a soul token. This model 
  cannot exceed its focus allocation limit as a result of Collector.
   5 15 
  6 
  5 
  10 19 
  —
  FielD allowance 
  2 
  Point cost 
  19 
  Huge Base
  kraken
  HellBlaSter
   rng roF aoe Pow
   16 
  1 
  4 
  14
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  KrAKen
  CRyX ColoSSAl
  The most exaggerated tale of terror beneath the waves does not begin to describe the shadow  
  of the Kraken.
  —Skarre, Queen of the Broken Coast
  s
  —
  Flayer
   rng roF aoe Pow
   12 
  1 
  — 
  12
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  HarveSter
   
  3 
  18
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  HarveSter
   
  3 
  18
  l
  r
  The 
  Kraken 
  ranks 
  among 
  the 
  most 
  terrifying 
  necromechanikal fabrications ever loosed upon the 
  mortals of the Iron Kingdoms. Lashing out with grasping 
  tentacles, it snatches up men and stuffs them within the 
  grease-slicked orifices of its shell. The captured have but a 
  moment of terror to consider their lightless environs before 
  their life energies are extracted and their bodies consumed 
  by a necromantic furnace that fuels the Kraken’s engines 
  and armament. The Kraken was conceived as the perfect 
  Cryxian engine of death—a machine that could strike from 
  below with overwhelming force, devour its victims, refuel 
  itself on their carcasses, and then vanish beneath the waves.
  Cryx has held the colossal in reserve for centuries, using it 
  only sparingly and in secret. The first Kraken was built in 
  the decades following the last defeat of the Orgoth. Having 
  observed the strengths and weaknesses of the mighty 
  machines fielded by Khador and Cygnar in the Colossal 
  War fought between 250–257 AR, Cryxian agents raided 
  the graves of the mainland’s most brilliant inventors, 
  arcanists, and mechanikal engineers and interrogated 
   
  leFt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
  s 
  s
     
   
  l 
  l 
  s 
  c 
   l 
  l 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  c
    l 
  c 
  m m m m 
   
  rigHt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   s 
  s 
   
   
   
   c  s 
  r 
  r 
   
   
   c 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  r 
  r
   m  m m m 
  c 
  r 
  
  103
  the remains for their genius. In some cases, their very 
  essences were used to produce the effects their insights 
  had inspired. 
  The necrotechs of Skell immediately set about refining 
  the designs of those great machines. Well aware of the 
  shortcomings of the first colossals, Cryx designed its 
  version to be smaller, more agile, and able to traverse a 
  broad range of terrain—innovations centuries ahead of 
  the mechanikal achievements of the mainland. The use of 
  necrotite to power the Kraken’s engines further reduced the 
  weight of the machine, making it shockingly fast for such a 
  large construct. 
  For centuries, the lich lords tightly controlled the use of 
  Krakens. They intended to use them as secret weapons 
  for a later stage of a long-term plan to subjugate the 
  mainland and advance on Lord Toruk’s progeny. Lich 
  Lord Scopulous, responsible for Cryx’s reserve army, was 
  particularly loath to employ the colossals abroad and 
  consented to dispatch them only for the utter destruction 
  of isolated targets such as remote shoreline villages and 
  lone ships carrying items or individuals of great value. In 
  these instances, the Kraken received support from other 
  Cryxian forces to ensure that any hapless survivors would 
  not live to describe them. More than a few vessels thought 
  to have been swallowed up by the storms of the Meredius 
  were in fact dragged beneath the waves, their prized 
  passengers taken by the Kraken’s harvesting tendrils and 
  brought back to Cryx. A few witnesses lived to speak of 
  what they had seen, but their stories of great sea monsters 
  kraken concePtUal deSignS
  were either dismissed as the ravings of madmen or thought 
  to describe beasts of the deep unassociated with Cryx. 
  With several lich lords now leading armies deep inside 
  enemy mainland territories and other colossals being 
  fabricated in mortal forges, the time has come for Cryx 
  to unveil its diabolical machines. Lich Lord Asphyxious, 
  eager to support his armies independent of the Cryxian 
  islands, has crafted additional Krakens within the depths 
  of his vast necrofactorium under the Thornwood. Pressured 
  by his peers, Scopulous has also relented and made the 
  previously built Krakens available to the other generals and 
  warwitches of Cryx. 
  The Kraken will soon demonstrate its lethal worth to a 
  wider audience. With an agility and speed surprising for 
  a machine of its size, a Kraken can quickly maneuver to 
  take advantage of any situation on the battlefield, while 
  its hellblaster cannon delivers deadly payloads. Even 
  as detonations from this cannon tear holes in enemy 
  formations, bursts from its flayer cannon cut down any foe 
  brave enough to launch counterattacks. The Kraken surges 
  into the ranks of the living to glut its endless appetite for 
  slaughter. Its long tendrils, shockingly adroit, erupt like 
  serpents in the midst of formations, tearing apart warjacks 
  and grasping victims to fuel its vile hunger. The screams 
  of those pulled into harvesting apertures are accented 
  by ripples of cannon fire. Not every victim snatched by a 
  Kraken immediately perishes, however; some unlucky few 
  are kept alive and brought back to the machine’s masters for 
  further horrors.
  
  104
  oCCuPied llael, north of 
  elsinberG, 608 ar
  Lord Arcanist Ossyan’s face was grim and pale as he 
  surveyed the still-smoldering ruins of the Retribution safe 
  house. Trying to imagine how the battle had unfolded 
  slightly distanced him from the horror of the violence, 
  but not entirely. Perhaps he should have been grateful 
  the corpses had been left behind, a departure from the 
  usual Cryxian methods, but the removal of the heads and 
  inscriptions in blood suggested some deeper desecration.
  “So many lost . . .” Nyshyl’s voice trailed away as she 
  choked back both rage and anguish. 
  “I knew Ghyrrshyld would not surrender his ambitions to 
  recover Nyssor’s vault, but I thought he would confront us 
  directly. Not like this.” Ossyan’s voice was hollow, and he 
  did not realize his footsteps were faltering until the mage 
  hunter took his arm to steady him. 
  Her face was similarly wan, and concerned, and she looked 
  down to his side. “You have not given your wound a chance 
  to heal.”
  “We have no time,” he answered vaguely, fighting off the 
  sensation of weakness and pain. “That has not changed.” 
  They had bound the injury dealt him by Goreshade, but it 
  was a deep wound and would require rest to mend, even 
  once he was able to accept the ministrations of those trained 
  in such matters. What troubled him more than the injury 
  itself was how difficult it had become for him to perceive 
  the strands of fate since that confrontation. He hoped it was 
  simply the daunting weight of Nyssor’s proximity, as the 
  god possessed a fated destiny as pervasive and occluding 
  as a moon during an eclipse. Some part of him feared his 
  divinatory ability had been permanently diminished or torn 
  from him, but only time would tell.
  Since he had seized the winter god’s vault in Skirov, Ossyan 
  had been making haste back toward Ios as enemies closed in 
  on him. An unavoidable skirmish with Khadorans as they 
  crossed the border of occupied Llael had cost them more 
  lives than he could easily spare as well as his Arcantrik 
  Force Generator. Even after evading the Khadorans, he 
  could not rest; he knew Goreshade had not simply crept 
  away to lick his own wounds. The eldritch’s undead flesh 
  lacked the limitations of his own living body. 
  Even before Ossyan had committed to their attack on Skirov, 
  Nyshyl had sent word back to the rest of the Retribution of 
  their discovery. With the sect’s forces dispersed throughout 
  Khador, it would take time before anyone else could reach 
  him. Despite his wound, he had pressed on. When they had 
  entered Llael he had hoped they might buy enough time by 
  holing up in a safe house to allow the nearest Retribution 
  forces to catch up. The carnage he had found at the first of 
  these refuges several days ago had been a vivid reminder 
  that danger was closer than ever, but he had hoped the 
  worst was now past.
  “We need to move,” Nyshyl warned. “No doubt his agents 
  have spotted us here.” They had not seen the eldritch himself, 
  but several times smaller Cryxian groups had harassed 
  them, killing a few of Ossyan’s men before melting into 
  the shadows. The senior mage hunter had advised against 
  trying another safe house after they had discovered the first 
  compromised. Now he saw she had been right: they must 
  presume there was nowhere safe outside Ios’ own borders.
  Ossyan grimaced against the pain in his side as they climbed 
  the stairs back to the surface. He said, “He is herding us. But 
  I did not come all this way to fail.” 
  Nyshyl agreed, “We push on.” She signaled to the other 
  mage hunters and they spread out with crossbows ready 
  to check for threats. Ossyan stepped toward the wagon that 
  traveled amid his myrmidons and steadily diminishing 
  houseguard escort. To his mystical sight the frozen vault 
  held an almost irresistible aura of mystical gravity, a sense 
  that its very weight seemed to impinge upon and alter the 
  world itself, and he had to tear his eyes away.
  He looked back at the breached opening of the Retribution 
  base and said, “There will be a reckoning with that monster.” 
  Nyshyl nodded grimly, clearly taking his vow to heart.
  retrIbutIon of scyrah
  The long Road home
  
  105
  The Black River flowed high and fast ahead, swollen from 
  recent heavy rainfall. His group was thirty miles south by 
  southwest of Riversmet, in the region where Khadoran-
  occupied Llael gave way to lands contested by the Northern 
  Crusade of the Protectorate of Menoth. There were limited 
  options for crossing the river, particularly with the water 
  this high, and it was the last major geographical obstacle 
  before Ios. Approaching it, Ossyan felt exposed, though 
  they had already neutralized what seemed to be the main 
  Khadoran armed patrol in the vicinity. 
  Recent Cryxian attacks in the region had worked to their 
  advantage, as the Khadorans had abandoned most outposts 
  to consolidate at larger garrisons. He had still expected 
  this bridge to be guarded, but there was no evidence of 
  Khadorans. Adding to his disquietude were signs of recent 
  violence, including several toppled and burnt wagons 
  together with spilled crates on both sides of the bridge, still 
  sending plumes of smoke into the sky. It looked as though 
  some caravan had been intercepted during a crossing. He 
  saw no corpses, but this had been common at battle sites in 
  the area, likely as a result of Cryxian opportunism. Ossyan 
  sought to enter the trance whereby he could gain insight 
  into the immediate future and saw the wisps of his fate 
  stretching tentatively toward the river and the bridge but 
  then wavering and dispersing. A headache overwhelmed 
  him and he returned to his normal sight, troubled.
  He mentally reached out to look instead through the eyes 
  of Hypnos where the myrmidon advanced at the fore of 
  his houseguard. The bridge looked very old and was likely 
  a relic from the Thousand Cities era, its double-arched 
  stone construction weathered and pocked over time. 
  It was just wide enough for four men to cross abreast—
  barely sufficient to accommodate the wagon bearing the 
  vault. Getting everyone across would take time, so he sent 
  his Daemon across first, followed by his houseguard of 
  halberdiers and riflemen, to establish a defensive position. 
  He remained behind with the wagon that carried Nyssor’s 
  vault. Hypnos was at a state of high alert, scanning their 
  surroundings repeatedly.
  He extended his supernaturally augmented senses to see 
  if he could detect Nyshyl and her strike force, who had 
  gone ahead earlier to take up positions in the trees near the 
  bridge and cover their crossing. Allowing his consciousness 
  to comb their surroundings, he could sense nothing but the 
  hum of his myrmidons. Once again, he was impressed at 
  the skill of Nyshyl and her fellow mage hunters.
  Even as the last of the houseguard finished crossing, he 
  squinted at the smoke rising from the toppled wagons. Oddly, 
  it seemed to be increasing rather than decreasing. It was 
  then he felt the unmistakable sensation of another warcaster 
  extending mental control to nearby warjack cortexes. 
  Before Ossyan could react, Hypnos’ power nodes flared 
  to life. With a loud shriek it shot a mystically charged 
  metal sphere from its phase gun to explode the nearest 
  smoking wagon, revealing a metal shape striding out 
  from beneath. Shouts of alarm went up from his soldiers 
  as the other toppled wagons and piles of crates erupted 
  and identical shapes emerged. The smoke of the wagons 
  had provided cover for that of warjacks behind the 
  wreckage, where they had crouched in shallow holes dug 
  out beneath to conceal their bulk. The machines looked 
  well built, at least by human standards, with gently 
  curved armored plates. Each wielded a crescent-bladed 
  polearm in its left hand and carried a thick tower shield 
  with small cannon barrels protruding from the center 
  with its right hand: Llaelese Vanguards, painted in the 
  red and black of Khador. 
  There were three on the near side of the bridge, two on the 
  other, with one of those immediately moving to block the far 
  landing and firing its cannon point-blank into a houseguard 
  rifleman among the last squad moving across. The other 
  charged toward the nearest riflemen that had been forming 
  into lines just past the bridge, sweeping into them with its 
  guisarme. Dark-garbed assassins burst from the cover of the 
  trees across the river to rush the halberdiers at the fore of 
  the houseguard, followed shortly by a number of Greylords 
  that were already invoking their freezing ice magic. 
  Ossyan felt some immediate disdain for his foes as they 
  sprang forth; he could see that despite being well laid the 
  ambush would be insufficient to stop him. He divided 
  his consciousness among his warjacks, urging them to 
  engage different threats. First he urged his Daemon on 
  the other side to whirl around to confront the Vanguard 
  tearing through his riflemen. Simultaneously he directed 
  Hypnos to fire its cannon into the nearest enemy warjack, 
  buckling the armor plating on its freshly painted red 
  shield. Ossyan raised his chronophage cannon and added 
  his own powerful blast of energy and managing to sunder 
  its shield arm entirely. The disruptive fields of both his 
  weapon and Hypnos’ projectile left that warjack severely 
  damaged, slowing its movements and interfering with 
  its cortex. Leaving it to Hypnos, he impelled his Sphinx 
  to rush the remaining two Vanguards on his side of the 
  river, trusting in the myrmidon’s weight and arcanikal 
  weaponry to help it triumph over the lighter opponents. 
  As the air filled with the sound of weapons crashing 
  into steel armor, Ossyan summoned his power to gather 
  glowing runes around himself as he shifted his perception 
  of reality and time, gaining clarity as events around him 
  slowed. Each strike of the brawling machines could be 
  observed in sequence. For light ’jacks the Vanguards were 
  surprisingly durable, and his Sphinx lost one of its arms 
  before crumpling the first one to scrap.
  
  106
  He saw his soldiers reacting with well-drilled professionalism. 
  The halberdiers had suffered losses from the rushing 
  assassins as well as blasts of freezing cold from the Greylords 
  but reformed their line and were using their weapons to 
  advantage. One of the flanking squads had fallen back to 
  engage the Vanguard blocking the bridge, surrounding 
  it. Riflemen on the bridge had backed up and were firing 
  from cover, while the others on the far bank took aim at the 
  Greylords, taking down one and wounding another.
  Widowmaker sniper fire sounded in retaliation, with 
  precise shots delivered from the nearest copse of trees on 
  Ossyan’s side of the river. He heard screams from the trees 
  where the shots had originated and realized Nyshyl and her 
  mage hunters had joined the fight. He saw no sight of them 
  amid the trees but left those enemies to them. Suddenly he 
  became aware of a new cortex signature on the periphery. 
  He spotted a Berserker breaking from the trees behind the 
  Greylords, its engine howling. 
  Ossyan’s divinatory awareness returned enough to see 
  mystical lines forecasting what the warjack would do, but 
  with little chance to stop it. He had his Daemon pull away 
  from the damaged Vanguard to intercept. It complied, 
  taking a swipe from the Vanguard’s polearm, but the ancient 
  Khadoran heavy had built up steam and smashed into the 
  lighter myrmidon to knock it flying back and into the river. 
  The Berserker hardly slowed as it ran into the midst of the 
  riflemen atop the bridge. Before it could swing its axes it 
  vanished amid blinding light and roaring fire as a massive 
  explosion deafened everyone nearby.
  Berserkers possessed notoriously unstable cortexes prone to 
  catastrophic explosions when pushed by warcasters. After 
  the spots faded from his vision, Ossyan saw the extensive 
  damage wrought by the blast. The Berserker and riflemen 
  were nowhere to be seen, and the far half of the stone bridge 
  had collapsed into the river. Ossyan and the wagon bearing 
  the vault were effectively cut off from the houseguard on 
  the other side.
  The lord arcanist lent arcane might to Hypnos and his 
  Sphinx as they finished off the last of the Vanguards on 
  his side. He then urged them to step up to the river and 
  join him in firing across on the Greylords and other enemy 
  forces on the opposite side, trying to defend his remaining 
  houseguard. A shot from Hypnos exploded among the 
  Greylords, taking several down, but the others summoned 
  swirling snow and wind to obscure themselves and moved 
  to cover behind large stones lining the opposite riverbank. 
  He fired his chronophage cannon but missed his mark, and 
  its energies harmlessly dissipated against stone.
  Ossyan was so focused watching across the river he was 
  unaware of new arrivals until Hypnos sent an urgent mental 
  warning. Augmented by his time-dilating perception, he 
  stepped to the side even as a blade of wind sliced through 
  the air where he had been. The quick motion prompted 
  a spike of agony through his injured side as his wound 
  opened. He grimaced and drew Locus as he turned toward 
  the new foes. The world began to slow and he sucked in a 
  breath, recognizing the convergence of a crisis point event—
  one that threatened his very mission.
  Advancing behind several snow-veiled Greylords was a 
  woman holding a mechanikal sword in one hand and a 
  peculiar occult relic in the other. He knew this must be the 
  warcaster coordinating the ambush, and from descriptions 
  he had heard from the initial strike to secure Nyssor’s vault, 
  he knew it was Kommander Zerkova. Two Juggernauts 
  flanked her, their ice axes gleaming a cold blue as they 
  strode forward.
  “You have something that belongs to me,” she said while 
  glaring at him with her good eye.
  “It belongs in Ios,” Ossyan retorted. He redirected his 
  myrmidons to fire on this new threat as he raised his 
  arm-mounted cannon. Their shots were joined by several 
  crossbow bolts from behind: Nyshyl and her mage hunters 
  had joined them. They had rushed forth to support him 
  after having dealt with the Widowmakers.
  Zerkova opened her arms and in a surge of power summoned 
  around herself an unnatural howling gale stronger than any 
  northern blizzard. The whipping winds made it impossible 
  to aim properly, and every Iosan shot went astray. The great 
  wind swept against Ossyan, his myrmidons, and the mage 
  hunters with a force that made it difficult to even breathe, 
  let alone advance.
  The Khadoran warcaster pointed her sword at him as her 
  warjacks broke into a run, unhindered by the gale. Their 
  heavy footsteps sounded like pounding war drums. Runes 
  surrounded Zerkova’s blade. He was forced to step behind 
  his damaged Sphinx as she unleashed another burst of 
  frozen wind, and the gale sliced into its armor instead. Too 
  late he saw his peril as the Juggernaut in the lead worked up 
  to full speed, lowered its shoulder, and hammered into the 
  Sphinx he was using as shelter. He tried to leap aside as the 
  myrmidon flew back off its feet, but it hit him with a glancing 
  impact as it toppled and slid. Pain again exploded from his 
  side as he fell onto the grass, and his vision went black.
  “i had the Good GraCe to leave 
  You With one eYe and still You 
  are blind to a simPle truth:  
  i am our PeoPle’s onlY  
  hoPe of salvation.”
  
  107
  Dawnlord Vyros set his jaw hard as he thundered across the 
  Llaelese countryside toward the Black River astride his 
  powerful warhorse Solarys. Behind him rode a company of 
  one hundred handpicked destors, and together they were 
  making all haste to catch up with Ossyan and Nyssor’s vault. 
  With him were two Griffons, the only myrmidons swift 
  enough to keep pace with the fast-moving mounted force. 
  Vyros had reluctantly left the rest of his myrmidons and his 
  larger Dawnguard force with Adeptis Rahn after they had 
  received the message relating the incredible find made by 
  Lord Arcanist Ossyan of House Vyre. Now, Vyros knew, the 
  fool from House Vyre was rushing toward Ios nearly alone. 
  Had he any wisdom, Ossyan would have gone the other 
  direction, seeking Retribution reinforcement first so the full 
  strength of an Iosan army might ensure his return.
  With such a large distance to cover and little time to 
  spare, Vyros had forged ahead with his cohort of destors. 
  Word had come of a hornet’s nest stirred up among the 
  Khadorans at Skirov, in addition to whomever else the lord 
  arcanist’s actions may have alerted. His brazen attack on 
  a major Khadoran city without coordinating with the sect 
  was proof of his inexperience, although clearly in this case 
  his luck had been with him. Vyros was determined to be the 
  one to restore the vault of Nyssor to Ios, before this upstart 
  opportunist lost it as quickly as he had found it.
  Vyros released his hunting hawk, Jyren, to scout the area 
  ahead. Through her elevated vantage, he could see the Black 
  River and the faint outline of Ossyan’s forces massing on 
  one side of the river. He felt relief flood through him even 
  as he spurred his steed to a gallop. As he entered the forest 
  and the light of the sun was blotted out by the dark trees 
  that surrounded the road, Vyros heard a shriek of wounded 
  animals and turned to see dark shapes springing from the 
  undergrowth into the column: Cryxian Stalkers.
  In a quick and practiced motion, he unslung his greatsword, 
  Justicar, and pressed his horse’s left flank just in time 
  to avoid another of the black bonejacks leaping from the 
  darkness. Still galloping at full tilt, Vyros could not prevent 
  one Stalker from tearing apart two destors just behind him. 
  He reached out through his mental link and commanded 
  one of the Griffons to engage it. Other destors had brought 
  their horses around to confront the bonejacks.
  Looking down through Jyren’s eyes, he saw black-armored 
  banes ahead, their grinning skulls glowing a pale green 
  and brutal weaponry poised to cut down any destors who 
  survived the Stalker onslaught. At their back was an even 
  larger figure whose warcaster armor belched sickly black 
  smoke and who wielded a long and strangely elegant curved 
  blade veiled in frozen air. Vyros felt dark rage as he looked 
  into the creature’s eyes and recognized the desiccated face. 
  “Ghyrrshyld!” he shouted and spurred Solarys forward, his 
  other Griffon with him. Vyros braced himself as his steed 
  smashed into the front line, crushing armor and skulls 
  beneath armored hooves. Vyros felt the momentum of his 
  charge slow as the banes absorbed his deadly stampede, 
  even as the remainder of his men crashed into the Cryxian 
  line. He swung Justicar to both sides in one hand, putting an 
  end to the bane thralls nearest to him, and sent his Griffon 
  to sweep through several others. He let his power field 
  surge to full strength, and it deflected several axe blows as 
  he battled through. There was the report of several lance 
  cannons, fired expertly to open a path to where Goreshade 
  waited, blade raised in a visible nimbus of cold.
  He kicked hard into Solarys’ flanks and sent the horse 
  forward before the banes could close the gap. Just as he 
  was almost to Goreshade, a tremendous impact knocked 
  him from his saddle and sent white-hot pain through his 
  side. Solarys managed to shake loose from the Stalker and 
  bolted, blood trailing from slices along his flanks. Even a 
  well-trained warhorse was prone to flight once deprived of 
  its rider, but Vyros knew his steed would return.
  He pulled himself to his feet, hefted Justicar, and charged 
  the infernal machine even as it turned on him. Vyros’ first 
  strike severed the bonejack’s left arm, and the back strike 
  drove through head and torso, piercing the machine’s vile 
  cortex. The bonejack shuddered and fell in a heap.
  He heard low, rumbling laughter behind him. “Dawnlord 
  Vyros Nyarr. A reunion at last.”
  Vyros turned, his features drawn into a dark frown 
  that caused the scar that ran down his face to tighten. 
  Around them the destors and banes still fought, but 
  for the moment the two warcasters were untouched by 
  the conflict. Remembering the horrors of the War of the 
  Houses, Vyros felt his hatred rise. He sought to control 
  his anger, gathering his arcane power but holding it in 
  reserve. “I dealt you a mortal wound once,” he said, “and 
  am prepared to finish that work.”
  Goreshade seemed unfazed. “I had the good grace to leave 
  you with one eye and still you are blind to a simple truth: 
  I am our people’s only hope of salvation. In seeking my 
  death, you only hasten your own.”
  Vyros laughed derisively. “Your madness is equaled only by 
  your hubris.”
  The eldritch’s eyes flared. “Do not play the noble 
  hero, Vyros. You seek the title I once claimed, and your 
  attachment to the Retribution is purely pragmatic. You are 
  no more than a parasite.”
  
  108
  Fast as a viper, Goreshade struck, but Vyros was ready. He 
  parried the blow, knocking the elegant blade away and 
  delivering a riposte that slid through Goreshade’s power 
  field and drove sparks off his warcaster armor as it opened 
  a rent. Even as he pressed forward, something about the 
  eldritch’s blade troubled him. He felt cold seeping into his 
  hands and arms despite his gauntlets.
  A second blow caught Goreshade’s sword, and for a 
  moment Vyros found himself staring into the unfathomable 
  blackness of the undead warcaster’s eyes. Goreshade said, 
  “You used rumors of me to incite your people to war. It 
  was I who spared your ‘Angel of Retribution’ and sent her 
  running with word of Nyssor’s vault. I opened what was 
  sealed, saw the Father of Winter with my own eyes, and 
  spoke to him. I alone know the futility of your quest. What 
  will you do when you have him? Seal him away in those 
  tombs you call fanes? Useless.” 
  Vyros tried to ignore the words, knowing the eldritch was 
  prone to lies, but just enough matched reports he had heard 
  that it gave him pause. He sneered as their blades locked 
  again and said, “No god would speak to you.”
  “I had the Torch of Khazarak,” Goreshade taunted him with 
  a smile, “a Menite relic whose flame even his cold cannot 
  endure. I bear Nyssor’s curse as proof, and I wield his 
  sword, taken from his hand. With its edge I shall end his 
  life, freeing him to return to the Veld.”
  The sun caught on the silvered edge of Goreshade’s blade, 
  and Vyros beheld it clearly for the first time. He saw 
  the Aeric runes, the perfect lines, the metal that shone 
  unmarred. The sight of it broke through his doubt, and 
  for a moment he was consumed by shock. With a mighty 
  heave, Goreshade knocked Vyros back before he could 
  respond, and numbing cold seeped into the dawnlord’s 
  body, tightening his muscles. As the eldritch struck again, 
  Vyros lifted Justicar through supreme effort of will. When 
  the blades met, he watched in horror as Justicar shattered 
  beneath the blow and shards of its metal deflected off his 
  power field. Goreshade then clove through both the field 
  and the armor of his shoulder, biting the flesh beneath. It 
  was a shallow wound, but numbness and icy cold seized 
  him and Vyros found he could not move.
  Goreshade stepped back from his immobilized opponent 
  and looked up to see destors closing, having dealt with 
  his banes. He smiled at Vyros again. “The Khadoran witch 
  keeps the Torch of Khazarak, and without it your victory 
  is meaningless.” With that he turned and disappeared 
  into greasy smoke and shadow even as the destors fired 
  on his position and rode to surround their lord. Vyros felt 
  warmth begin to return to his limbs and found he could 
  move again. He quickly mounted a horse that had been 
  deprived of its rider and together with his escort raced 
  after the wisps of smoke indicating Goreshade’s direction. 
  He had little hope of catching him, but his eyes narrowed 
  as through the trees he saw what looked to be a heavily 
  laden supply wagon in Khadoran colors surrounded by an 
  escort of Winter Guard. Perhaps he could gain something 
  from this encounter after all.
  An explosion sounded in the distance and Vyros turned his 
  head in that direction. He wondered if Goreshade’s true 
  purpose had been to delay him from reaching Ossyan and 
  the vault. Making a snap judgment, he used hand gestures 
  to signal one squad of his destors to secure the wagon 
  ahead, while the rest wheeled with him to hasten east.
  Ossyan fought to emerge from the encroaching blackness. 
  He felt along the ground for his blade, then finally grasped 
  it and pulled himself to his feet. He had blacked out for only 
  a moment, but to his surprise Nyshyl and her mage hunters 
  had swept forward to intervene, several surrounding the 
  Juggernaut that had smashed his Sphinx aside. He could 
  sense nothing from his warjack’s cortex and saw the damage 
  from what had to be a finishing strike of an ice axe.
  The mage hunters were experts at fighting such machines, 
  but against Khadoran armor even their practiced strikes 
  rarely landed a damaging blow, only occasionally 
  dislodging connective piping or hammering at exposed 
  joints. Compared to their nimble movements the 
  Juggernaut’s swings seemed ponderous, but its axe ripped 
  through the air with such weight that the slightest contact 
  could prove fatal. Battling the other Juggernaut, Hypnos 
  landed punishing blows with its fists that prompted the 
  Khadoran warjack’s cruder internal mechanisms to seize 
  up and freeze.
  The rest of the mage hunters, including Nyshyl, had 
  closed on Zerkova and her Greylords with blades drawn, 
  demonstrating foolish bravery. Ossyan staggered toward 
  them. He fired his cannon at the nearest Greylord, 
  watching with satisfaction as blazing light pierced the 
  bearded Khadoran’s chest. Zerkova cut the throat of one 
  mage hunter and obliterated another with razored air. 
  Ossyan extended a hand to bestow augmented perception 
  and increased speed on the strike force, eager to prevent 
  their slaughter.
  there Was a thunderinG  
  sound, and it seemed the 
  Ground shook underfoot. 
  zerkova turned to look to  
  the West and her faCe Paled.
  
  109
  Zerkova’s eyes flashed and he could feel her readying 
  her power. His vision swam, and he felt blood leaking 
  steadily down his wounded side. The Juggernaut that had 
  been enduring the blades of the mage hunters swatted 
  one aside and turned both its baleful gaze and its ice axe 
  in his direction.
  There was a thundering sound, and it seemed the ground 
  shook underfoot. Ossyan thought at first the pounding was 
  his heart, but then Zerkova turned to look to the west and 
  her face paled. She called her Juggernaut back to her and 
  withdrew, sending whirling vortexes of wind against the 
  nearest mage hunters as she went. Ossyan realized he had 
  fallen to his knees, but Nyshyl was there, helping him stand, 
  and he was relieved to see she had not thrown her life away.
  Ossyan looked back and saw dozens of Dawnguard destor 
  cavalry rushing toward them, led by none other than 
  Dawnlord Vyros, his hawk flying above his head. They 
  galloped across the intervening soil toward Zerkova’s 
  retreating forces like an avenging flood, firing lance 
  cannons in a booming announcement of their presence. 
  The Khadoran unleashed a tempest that shredded apart 
  one of the lead riders but was then forced to abandon her 
  Juggernaut by sending it as a diversion into the path of those 
  following. They hammered its armored chassis with their 
  lances in turn, each wheeling away after impact to make 
  room for the next. It managed to hack through two riders 
  before it collapsed. Other destors fired on Greylords trying 
  to reach the tree line and managed to kill several before the 
  rest reached cover.
  Vyros and those destors not already committed to chasing 
  the retreating enemy rode up to him. He could tell from 
  their ragged lines and signs of injury that they, too, had seen 
  recent battle. A number of their horses in destor barding 
  carried empty saddles. 
  “Dawnlord, you are a glad sight,” Ossyan said. He felt 
  slightly unsteady and leaned on Nyshyl for support, but at 
  least he was standing. 
  “Lord Arcanist,” Vyros said as he dismounted. He began to 
  relay orders to his destors. “Secure that vault! And check 
  the perimeter for additional forces.” He looked back to 
  Ossyan. “I heard an explosion. Was the vault harmed? I 
  need to inspect it.”
  “Of course,” Ossyan said. “The vault is safe; the explosion 
  was to the bridge.” Looking that direction, he was glad to 
  see that some of his houseguard on the other side of the 
  river had survived.
  Ignoring Nyshyl’s concerned look, Ossyan led Vyros toward 
  the wagon where the frozen god awaited. He swayed a bit, 
  feeling as if his control of events was suddenly evaporating. 
  Perhaps that was not altogether a bad thing. Finally 
  receiving support to ensure their return to Ios brought a 
  profound sense of relief. “So,” Vyros said in a hushed voice 
  as he reached a hand toward the smooth marble of the vault 
  with its silver Aeric runes. He seemed to think better of 
  touching it and stopped. “Within rests the fruit of all our 
  labors.” He stepped back suddenly with a frown; Ossyan 
  expected he could feel the tremendous unnatural cold 
  seeping from the vault. 
  Their pondering was interrupted as additional destors 
  leading a heavy wagon in Khadoran colors approached. 
  Ossyan looked at it and asked, “Spoils of war?” 
  Vyros ignored the question and moved to inspect the wagon 
  before waving its escort to move it to the midst of his forces. 
  Ossyan observed with interest the marks of the Greylords 
  Covenant visible on the crates carefully stacked in the back 
  of the wagon, including one banded in bronze and marked 
  with mystical sigils. Vyros was clearly pleased to see it, 
  and his eyes looked triumphant as he turned back. “Lord 
  Arcanist, how long until that bridge can be restored?”
  Ossyan’s vision wavered, and he sensed some great 
  darkness enveloping that metal-banded box. As the 
  wagon neared the vault of Nyssor he caught his breath: 
  a strange, shadowy resonance in the warped lines of fate 
  swirled like smoke between the two wagons. When he 
  finally tore his eyes away, he realized the dawnlord was 
  waiting for an answer. 
  “The bridge?” He frowned and peered ahead, considering 
  that he could direct Hypnos to assist in dragging some 
  of the nearby detritus and debris in order to shore up the 
  missing section and assist their crossing, helped by his 
  houseguard on the far side. “I think I can have us underway 
  by nightfall,” he said. The words had just left his lips 
  when he saw a reassuring flicker of his future destiny now 
  weaving steadily to the east, toward home. 
  
  TacTical TipS
  Lock the target – If a model cannot charge it also cannot make 
  slam or trample power attacks. 
  Quick Work – This model cannot make the additional attack if it is 
  still in melee. 
  EaSy RidER 
  3 
  SElf cTRl 
  – 
  No No 
  Friendly Faction models beginning their activations in this model’s control 
  area gain Pathfinder 
   . Easy Rider lasts for one turn. 
  dEflEcTioN 
  2 
  SElf cTRl 
  – 
  No No 
  While in this model’s control area, friendly Faction warrior models gain +2 
  ARM against ranged and magic attack damage rolls. Deflection lasts for 
  one round. 
  lock ThE TaRgET 
  2 
  10 
  – 
  10 
  No yES 
  A model damaged by Lock the Target cannot run, charge, or be placed for 
  one round. 
  SyNERgy 
  2 
  SElf cTRl 
  – 
  yES No 
  While in its control area, models in this model’s battlegroup gain a +1 
  cumulative bonus on melee attack and melee damage rolls for each other 
  model in the battlegroup that hit an enemy model with a melee attack this 
  turn while in this model’s control area. 
  TwiSTER 
  2 
  10 
  3 
  10 
  No yES 
  The AOE is a cloud effect that remains in play for one round.
  SpEllS 
  coST RNg aoE pow 
  Up off
  110
  fEaT: TidE of waR 
  Vyros, Incissar of the 
  Dawnguard is famed for his 
  tactical brilliance and the fluid 
  adaptability of his army. Every 
  loss becomes an opportunity 
  as his forces react to close gaps 
  in their lines or advance to fix 
  the enemy in place. The more 
  determined the opposition, the 
  more Vyros turns the ground 
  to his own advantage.  
  When one or more friendly 
  Faction models are 
  destroyed by an enemy 
  attack while in Vyros’ 
  control area anytime 
  except while advancing, 
  immediately after the 
  attack is resolved a friendly 
  Faction model in Vyros’ 
  control area can make a full advance. A model can advance only 
  once as a result of Tide of War. Tide of War lasts for one round.  
  VyRoS 
  Bird’s Eye – While in this model’s control area, models in its 
  battlegroup extend their front arcs 360˚ and when determining 
  LOS ignore cloud effects, forest terrain, and intervening models. 
  inspiration [dawnguard] – Friendly Dawnguard models/units 
  in this model’s command range never flee and immediately rally. 
  Quick work – When this model destroys one or more 
  enemy models with a melee attack during its combat action, 
  immediately after that attack is resolved this model can make 
  one normal ranged attack. Attacks gained from Quick Work do 
  not count against a weapon’s ROF. 
  ExTREmUS caNNoN 
   magical weapon
  ExTREmUS 
   magical weapon
   Reach
   8 
  7 
  8 
  6 
  15 18 
  10
  Focus 
  6 
  Damage 
  18 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  warjack Points 
  +5 
  large Base
  VYROS
  ExtREmuS CannOn
   rng roF aoe Pow
   10 
  2 
  — 
  12
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  ExtREmuS
   
  7 
  14
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
   
  Pow
  mOunt
   
  10
  Vyros, IncIssar of the DawnguarD 
  RETRiBUTioN caValRy Epic waRcaSTER 
  Destiny is but another word for perseverance. We must grasp victory with our own hands.
  —Incissar Vyros
   
  Vyros has given his people both the greatest victory in the 
  history of Ios and the gift of renewed hope. The conquering 
  general has punished those who would defile their gods 
  and freed an Iosan deity from their grasp, downplaying the 
  contributions of Ossyan of House Vyre. Ios has accepted this 
  omission with equanimity; the leader of the Dawnguard is 
  their hero of the hour.
  The hallytyr granted Vyros the honor of presiding over the 
  rites interring the reclaimed god Nyssor within the fane 
  beneath Iryss, Scyrah’s original fane. Precisely what the god’s 
  return means is uncertain, but it is proof that the Retribution 
  of Scyrah can deliver on its promises and that the sect has no 
  greater military leader than Vyros of House Nyarr.
  Recognizing the achievements of the Dawnlord, Consul 
  Calcyr Nyarr has formalized Vyros’ standing by giving 
  up all claims to military leadership of his house. The 
  consul has stepped back to focus entirely on his roles in 
  the Consulate Court and among the Nine Voices of the 
  Retribution, giving Vyros unfettered command over the 
  house’s military assets. Given that Vyros was already 
  serving in this capacity, the act is largely symbolic, but 
  it represents his continued rise within his house and Ios 
  in general.
  Vyros’ growing political clout among the people facilitates 
  his advancement of the Retribution’s aggressive agenda; 
  in fact, he has already begun formulating the strategies by 
  which he will strike the next blow. That the Retribution has 
  brazenly added the Hyperions to its arsenal is due to Vyros’ 
  status as well as to the level of cooperation between Houses 
  Nyarr and Shyeel. The formidable colossals, previously 
  held in reserve to defend Ios’ borders, now prepare to 
  march against enemies abroad.
  Comprising the core of Vyros’ military elite, the Dawnguard 
  increasingly enjoy standing as the backbone heavy infantry 
  of the Retribution’s armies. Incissar Vyros commands them 
  from his mighty destrier, Solarys, with the assurance that 
  the tides of war are his to command. He has proven that 
  victory is his to take—whether by political maneuvering or 
  at the point of a blade.
  
  111
  
  112
  
  hyPerIon
  irYss, 583 ar
  Dearest Tenae,
  I am not given to letters, as well you know, but today I must 
  share what I have seen. 
  We have made slow progress in Iryss. The fighting has been 
  more vicious than any of us expected. Inspired by their 
  power-mad and self-proclaimed narcissar, Ghyrrshyld, 
  House Vyre’s soldiers make us pay a heavy price for every 
  foot we gain, and more than once their myrmidons have 
  retaken ground we had previously won. Our victory has 
  been inevitable for months, but at a high cost in lives. 
  Against the advice of many, the hallytyr has authorized the 
  deployment of Hyperions within Issyr. I know you feel the 
  same dread as I at this.
  We both know the forces harnessed—I do not say controlled—
  within the Hyperion. Much of our arcane research was in 
  the theoretical pursuit of those forces. The starburst effect 
  was designed to protect Ios from the most terrible threats 
  imaginable, such as being threatened by another dragon. 
  We never dreamed of its use in our own city streets. When I 
  was ordered to gather my men and protect the first Hyperion 
  deployed, I almost resigned my commission on the spot. But 
  like a coward, I obeyed. Scyrah help me.
  Command was given to Adeptis Rahn. We followed him 
  at a fast pace through the streets of the southern wards 
  of Iryss, toward a heavily barricaded Vyre position. Their 
  houseguard had entrenched themselves at this alley for 
  days, and we’d lost half a dozen lives in our attempts to 
  dislodge them. The Hyperion turned the corner and was 
  upon them in a few swift strides. 
  Adeptis Rahn had the Hyperion discharge its starburst 
  cannon repeatedly upon the barricaded position, minimizing 
  time spent in conflict. Once one has committed to an action, 
  no matter how terrible, one must see it completed. The Vyre 
  forces were erased from Caen. Only a rough crater filled 
  with fine ash remained where the starburst had struck. 
  Several adjacent buildings were annihilated or left with 
  walls missing as if sliced from reality. We did not bother to 
  search for survivors.
  We have unleashed the greatest potential our people have 
  ever known, a force of limitless energy and endless death. 
  That the Hyperion would be first employed against our 
  own kinsmen is sickening enough without considering 
  its weapon is only the initial expression of the forces with 
  which we tamper. I have resigned my commission and will 
  be home within the month. What follows then, I know not.
  Your Loving Brother Nygyll
  113
  
  Towering over the vanguard of Retribution forces, the 
  Hyperion carries with it the fury of the Iosan people—and 
  the most powerful weapon ever built. Its thresher cannons 
  and bladed fists first clear a path to the most heavily armored 
  and entrenched enemy position. Enemies who have lived 
  to describe what comes next speak in hushed voices of the 
  hair-raising sensation that accompanies the eerie sound of 
  its field generator gathering power. Just before the starburst 
  weapon emits its charge, all ambient sound is swallowed by 
  an ominous silence. Suddenly, a discharge of warped energy 
  emanates from channels within the colossal’s chassis, too 
  quickly to be observed. The resulting blinding sphere 
  eventually fades to reveal a zone of utter annihilation: 
  stone, steel, and flesh erased from existence with the surety 
  of the Retribution’s cause.
  The Hyperion and its armament were created by the Iosans 
  centuries ago, in response to an indisputably dire threat. The 
  Iosans were appalled by the staggering casualties inflicted 
  by the dragon Ethrunbal when he arose from beneath the 
  city of Issyrah. Thousands of civilians were slaughtered 
  before military forces succeeded in subduing the dragon 
  and extracting his athanc, and in the end, the city of Issyrah 
  was reduced to rubble and abandoned. Looking upon the 
  catastrophe, the artificers of House Shyeel saw it as their 
  duty to craft a weapon powerful enough to confront threats 
  as dreadful as that which besieged Issyrah.
  The finest minds of House Shyeel began countless 
  experiments in the realm of unconventional energies. They 
  eventually discovered that the fundamental forces of nature 
  could be altered to produce an incomprehensible force 
  related to the energies with which the gods had forged the 
  stars. Their earliest successes required mechanisms too 
  large to be housed within even the largest myrmidon. It 
  took decades more to design smaller constructs that could 
  channel such energy. After the first test of their terrible 
  creation, one of the principal architects is said to have been 
  HeigHt / WeigHt: 30´6˝ / 66 Tons
  ArmAment: sTarbursT (field), dual Thresher Cannons (lefT and righT Chassis), Twin 
  blade fisTs (lefT and righT arms)
  PeAk OPerAtiOnAl DurAtiOn: 1.5 hrs CombaT
  Artificer: house shyeel
  114
  HYPERION 
  Field Dependent – While 
  its Field Generator system is 
  crippled, this model cannot 
  make Starburst attacks. 
  StaRBuRSt 
   Magical Weapon
  Critical Consume – On 
  a critical hit, if the attack 
  hit a small-based non-
  warlock/warcaster model 
  the model hit is removed 
  from play. 
  tHRESHER 
  CaNNON 
  auto Fire [d3] – Make d3 
  ranged attacks targeting 
  a primary target and any 
  number of secondary 
  targets within 2˝ of 
  the first target. Ignore 
  intervening models when 
  declaring secondary 
  targets. A secondary 
  target cannot be targeted 
  by more attacks than the primary target. Auto Fire counts as 
  one attack for ROF.  
  BlaDE FISt 
   Open Fist
  taCtICal tIPS
  Auto Fire – These attacks are simultaneous. Attacks against targets 
  beyond this weapon’s range will automatically miss.  
  StArburSt – On a critical hit, all small-based non-warcaster models 
  are removed from play. 
   5 16 
  6 
  5 
  10 19 
  —
  Field damage 
  12 
  Field allowance 
  2 
  Point cost 
  18 
  Huge Base 
  HYPERION
  StaRBuRSt
   Rng RoF aoe Pow
   10 
  1 
  5 
  18
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  BladE FISt
   
  4 
  20
   sPd stR mat Rat  deF aRm cmd
  Hyperion
  REtRIButION COlOSSal MYRMIDON 
  The sun brought down from the heavens, searing our path to victory.
  —Incissar Vyros
   
  l
  R
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  BladE FISt
   
  4 
  20
   
  leFt damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
  g 
  g 
  g
     
  l 
  l 
  g 
  c 
  c 
   l 
  l 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  c
    l 
  c 
  m m m m 
   
  RigHt damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   g 
  g 
  g 
   
   
   c  c 
  g 
  R 
  R 
   
   c 
  c 
  c 
  c 
  R 
  R
   m  m m m 
  c 
  R 
  —
  l
  tHRESHER CaNNON
   Rng RoF aoe Pow
   12 
  1 
  — 
  12
  R
  tHRESHER CaNNON
   Rng RoF aoe Pow
   12 
  1 
  — 
  12
  
  so shaken that he suggested the entire project be abandoned. 
  He was quietly retired from public view while others in 
  House Shyeel continued his work.
  The Hyperion’s chassis and hull were built in tandem with 
  the final stages of starburst development. The colossal’s 
  infrastructure had to be large enough to accommodate 
  the oversized generators necessary to power the machine 
  itself and to create the starburst effect as a function of its 
  protective energy fields. Given how completely the powerful 
  weapon monopolized the Hyperion’s energy output, Iosan 
  engineers decided to outfit the colossal with an independent 
  secondary weapon system. These thresher cannons, unlike 
  other Shyeel weapons, fire kinetic projectiles similar to the 
  firearms used by some Iosan infantry. 
  House Shyeel built several Hyperions but kept them 
  in reserve against major threats from outside Ios. The 
  colossals, however, would see their first deployment under 
  circumstances much different than originally intended. In 
  the final days of the War of the Houses, the allied hallytyr 
  met heavy resistance from the powerful and enormous 
  myrmidons 
  of 
  House 
  Vyre—machines 
  employing 
  unorthodox and dangerous energies. Fearing a prolonged 
  siege against Ghyrrshyld and his house and hoping to 
  prevent greater loss of civilian life in a protracted battle, the 
  hallytyr urged House Shyeel to deploy the Hyperions. 
  The colossals inarguably brought the Iosan civil war to a 
  swift conclusion, but at great cost: many ancient buildings 
  were annihilated, and hundreds of civilians perished. 
  The few to survive exposure to the puissant energy were 
  left crippled, as any flesh caught within the blasts simply 
  ceased to exist. After House Vyre quickly and prudently 
  dismantled its greatest war constructs, the hallytyr 
  unanimously moved to prohibit the use of the Hyperion or 
  anything related to starburst technology within any Iosan 
  city. In accordance, House Shyeel deployed its Hyperions 
  along the Iosan border.
  Now that the Retribution of Scyrah is on the rise, with 
  its extreme politics and its alliances with Houses Shyeel 
  and Nyarr, old legal shackles have begun to fall away. 
  Fresh from his victories abroad, Incissar Vyros brazenly 
  pulled the Hyperions from the borders to add them to the 
  Retribution’s arsenal. Hallytyr consuls were forced to stifle 
  their objections lest they be seen as impeding Ios’ only hope 
  for a brighter future. The liberation of Nyssor has given 
  the Retribution all the clout it requires to arm itself with 
  the most formidable constructs ever developed on Iosan 
  soil. Hyperions now march alongside the Dawnguard, 
  thrumming with barely restrained power as they prepare 
  to eradicate any enemy the Retribution deems deserving of 
  their attention.
  HyPerion concePtUal deSignS
  115
  
  116
  the thornWood
  General Ossrum Durgh made his way down the long line of 
  armored troops and machines, two heavy Rhulic warjacks 
  with him. The column had halted along the winding road 
  running through the tangled forest. Ossrum was growing 
  tired of the constant delays; this expedition was painful 
  even compared to negotiating the twisting passes of the 
  Glass Peaks. To keep his men sharp he had been ensuring 
  they were using the time properly—cleaning weapons, 
  checking armor and ammunition, and maintaining warjacks 
  and other equipment.
  Most of his troops were from Hammerfall Fortress: four 
  full companies of High Shield Gun Corps, four platoons 
  of Assault Corps, and nearly a dozen warjacks, half heavy 
  and half light. Added to this was a company of Forge Guard 
  from Horgenhold. He saw the force not as a host of sell-
  swords but as a professional army held to the standards of 
  Clan Durgh.
  He had accepted a large sum of Khadoran gold to safeguard 
  a special convoy. As he neared the center of the column, the 
  brown and gray of Rhulic uniforms gave way to the crimson 
  and black of the Khadorans. Among them, three Khadoran 
  Conquests towered over the treetops, more than thirty feet 
  tall and nearly as wide, hulls bristling with weaponry. They 
  lacked the refinement and reliable efficiency of the Rhulic 
  colossals, but there was something to be said for sheer 
  battlefield presence.
  As he neared the small Khadoran force surrounding the 
  Conquests, he raised his hand in greeting to the young 
  warcaster in charge. “Kovnik,” he said in Khadoran. “No 
  major difficulties, I trust?”
  Kovnik Andrei Malakov stood at the foot of one of the 
  colossals, consulting with a Man-O-War mechanik. 
  Malakov’s impeccable red warcaster armor gleamed as 
  new and unscarred as the skin on his hairless cheeks. 
  To Ossrum, he looked shockingly young, clearly a fresh 
  graduate from the Druzhina, Khador’s military academy. 
  “Routine maintenance and refueling, General,” the 
  Khadoran said. “We will be in motion again soon.” The 
  youth looked at him with a perpetual air of restrained 
  disapproval. Ossrum was uncertain if this was due to him 
  being a mercenary, or Rhulic, or both.
  Ossrum accepted this and walked on. One sign that the 
  Conquests had not been built by Rhulic hands was how 
  frequently they required attention. He had his doubts about 
  Malakov as well. The man was apparently a rising military 
  star, but entrusting such a command to someone so young 
  seemed foolish. He suspected politics had played a part, 
  as he had overheard Khadorans in their escort mention 
  Malakov’s well-connected family. This opportunity to 
  deliver new weapons to the supreme kommandant would 
  have been a rare honor.
  Ossrum continued down the column, checking the 
  wagons. The supply train was huge, as it had to support 
  not only hundreds of soldiers and their warjacks but also 
  the Conquests and their gluttonous appetite for fuel. The 
  Khadorans had sent the colossals as far as possible by train, 
  but the unavoidable barrier of the Thornwood required 
  they make the remainder of the journey on foot.
  His experience suggested this supply train was their 
  greatest vulnerability, particularly with the forest infested 
  by Cryxians. He had done what he could to ensure it was 
  protected, but the terms of his contract specified the bulk 
  of his army be deployed near the Conquests. Ossrum had 
  positioned some of his best troops at the rearguard, including 
  the Assault Corps led by his most trusted subordinate, First 
  Sergeant Kargul Shatterhaft.
  When he reached the rearguard, he found Kargul kneeling on 
  the grassy sward next to the tree line, reassembling a battle 
  cannon. The ogrun and dwarves around him were checking 
  their gear and running through weapon drills, while others 
  were on watch along the tree line. The sergeants who saw 
  Ossrum acknowledged him respectfully. His rapport with 
  the men was good, as most of the force had served with him 
  for years now. He did not take their trust for granted.
  “Glad to see everyone’s busy, Sergeant,” Ossrum said as 
  he approached.
  NOTHING GOOD COMES CHEAP
  mercenaries
  
  117
  Kargul raised his head and gave a casual salute. “Anything 
  to avoid your ‘an idle soldier is an unprepared soldier’ 
  lecture.” Ossrum grinned; after decades fighting together, 
  he allowed the sergeant some leeway with military 
  formality. The ogrun slammed the breach of the battle 
  cannon closed and stood, towering almost four feet above 
  his korune. “Doesn’t that lad realize how vulnerable 
  we are every time we stop? I’ve never seen machines so 
  hungry for coal.”
  “We can’t exactly leave them behind,” Ossrum replied. 
  “I’m sure the Khadorans would prefer the front line to be 
  situated more conveniently.”
  “Hostiles! From the east!” a dwarven voice bellowed from 
  that side of their column.
  Ossrum found his axe Oathkeeper in his right hand before he 
  even thought to take it from his belt. Likewise, Kargul had 
  drawn his hand axe in his left hand. He streadied his battle 
  cannon in the other using the supporting strap buckled to his 
  right shoulder. The staccato crackle of small arms fire sounded 
  from the tree line, and Ossrum saw where two ranks of High 
  Shield Gun Corps had taken up position, bracing carbines on 
  their shields, to fire volleys into the forest. 
  “Gun Corps right and left!” Kargul shouted. “Assault Corps 
  behind!” At his orders, the remaining High Shield corpsmen 
  positioned themselves on either side of the road, keeping 
  the supply wagons between them. The Assault Corps ogrun 
  stood behind the dwarves, ready to fire their cannons over 
  the front line. Ossrum mentally reached out to the two 
  warjacks with him—a reliable old Avalancher he called 
  Zenith and a freshly rebuilt Wroughthammer Rockram he’d 
  named Breacher—and sent one to either flank as he took a 
  position next to Kargul.
  A ragged line of muscular humanoids in enclosed metal 
  helmets rushed from the trees into the Rhulic defenders. 
  Ossrum could see their arms ended in mechanikal swords 
  and saw blades. “Drudges,” he said under his breath with 
  disgust. The cephalyx and their enslaved warriors were 
  well known in Rhul, where they occasionally menaced deep 
  mining operations.
  The first wave of drudges fell to gun corps carbines, while 
  those behind them received an explosive barrage of battle 
  cannon shells and the heavier ordnance delivered by 
  Ossrum’s warjacks. As more drudges replaced the fallen, 
  Ossrum saw the thin, spidery forms of cephalyx mind slavers 
  lurking behind them. Peering through Zenith’s eyes, he drew 
  a bead on the closest slaver with the warjack’s cannon and 
  then poured his will into the weapon. The shell struck true, 
  obliterating the cephalyx and a few drudges nearby.
  The drudges had made it into melee range with the gun 
  corps, and the dwarven troops abandoned their carbines 
  for short-hafted war axes. Here the Rhulfolk were at a 
  disadvantage, and the drudges hacked into their ranks with 
  whirring saws and keen swords.
  Ossrum shouted over the din, “Sergeant Kargul! Buy us 
  some breathing room!” Kargul and a dozen ogrun with 
  hand axes charged forward to bolster the collapsing line, 
  the drudges no match for their bulk and fury.
  The flow of drudges from the forest slowed to a trickle, 
  but Ossrum could no longer see the shadowy forms of 
  cephalyx behind them. He felt a sudden dread and looked 
  back toward the south in time to see a burst of sickly green 
  light blossom over the center of the column, followed by the 
  desperate screams of men and dwarves in agony.
  “Sergeant!” Ossrum shouted over the fading notes of 
  gunfire as they finished the remaining drudges. “You’re 
  with me!” He broke into a run, followed by his warjacks 
  and the remaining Assault Corps. 
  Ossrum scowled as he ran. It was not like Cryx to attack the 
  strongest point in an enemy army. Their priority must be 
  the Conquests themselves, with the strike at the rear meant 
  to divert resources. He summoned his power and poured 
  his will into the warjacks and ogrun around him. Their 
  pace quickened considerably, and the rough ground flowed 
  easily beneath them.
  At the center of the column, the gun corps troopers had 
  formed up ranks in front of the Conquests, creating a 
  buffer between themselves and the Khadorans. A solid 
  mass of drudges, hundreds strong, charged them from 
  the trees. Behind the advancing wall of mind-controlled 
  slaves a dozen or more bloat thralls squatted amid the trees 
  on spider-like legs, firing bile cannons up and over the 
  attackers. The corrosive fluid melted armor, flesh, and bone 
  with appalling speed. 
  Immediately seeing that the bloat thralls were unassailable 
  while in the forest behind the wall of drudges, Ossrum 
  urged his two warjacks to add their firepower to that of 
  the Rhulic troops. He knew it wasn’t going to be enough. 
  The bloat thralls would inflict horrible casualties before his 
  troops could close.
  Kovnik Malakov had positioned his two Demolishers at 
  the flanks of the dwarven lines. Armed with two shoulder-
  mounted cannons each, the ’jacks blasted into the advancing 
  drudges, but there were far too many.
  Above Ossrum, the Conquests suddenly shuddered to 
  life with a blast of smoke and steam, and then the world 
  dissolved into an explosion of sound and light as they 
  fired their primary and secondary guns in rippling salvos. 
  Gargantuan shells shrieked into the massed drudges, 
  leaving only smoking craters where they struck.
  
  118
  Ossrum was impressed at the efficient and well-directed 
  firing salvo from the young kovnik, but he immediately 
  perceived a potential vulnerability. Focused on the drudges 
  and bloat thralls, all the central column defenders had 
  pulled onto one side to create a buffer before the invaluable 
  colossals. They were ignoring the dark forest behind them.
  He reached out to every Rhulic warjack in mental range, 
  taking control of an additional pair of Avalanchers and 
  several Gunners he had left with the central column 
  and urging them to move toward the forest behind the 
  Conquests. Startled by their withdrawal, Malakov shouted 
  indignantly, “What are you doing?”
  “Protecting your gods-be-damned machines!” Ossrum 
  roared. He directed Kargul and the Assault Corps toward 
  a slight rise where they would have an open firing lane on 
  the vulnerable area.
  A second salvo from the Conquests obliterated the trees 
  and reduced the drudges to a field of shattered body parts. 
  Two hundred rifles went off in unison, supported by the 
  pounding barrage of Khadoran warjacks, and the exposed 
  bloat thralls were quickly torn to pieces. Another wave 
  of drudges supported by their cephalyx masters pushed 
  forward, but with less cover from the blasted clearing. 
  Ossrum’s Forge Guard charged them, wielding their 
  hammers to intercept the enemy.
  Suddenly hulking shadows burst from the trees on the 
  opposite side of the column: at least two dozen helljacks, 
  including Slayers as well as crab-like Harrowers and 
  Leviathans. The hovering form of a cephalyx overlord and a 
  pair of slavers moved behind the advancing wall of blackened 
  steel. The helljacks surged forward, some firing volleys of 
  jagged metal spikes and blasts of ghostly necrotic fire into 
  the Khadorans as they closed on the nearest Conquest.
  Ossrum sent his warjacks barreling into the path of the 
  Cryxian machines, firing as they went, in a desperate attempt 
  to blunt their charge. He empowered his ’jacks with his 
  sorcery, creating shimmering walls of force around each that 
  pushed the enemy back as it neared—a temporary measure.
  Too late, Kovnik Malakov saw the peril and diverted his 
  Demolishers, but the Conquests themselves blocked the 
  path to the enemy. Ossrum’s machines were horribly 
  outnumbered, and in the first seconds of battle he felt 
  Zenith’s hull buckle beneath a Leviathan’s crushing claw. 
  The old ’jack retaliated with its assault shield, but he knew 
  it would not endure. Breacher fared only slightly better.
  He rushed to where Malakov stood near his trio of 
  Conquests, backing them away from the helljacks while 
  firing, a tactic that would never work given their relative 
  speeds. Ossrum shouted, “Kovnik! Send the Conquests 
  forward! Into the fray!”
  A shadow of anger flickered across Malakov’s youthful 
  face. “Unacceptable, General! The Conquests must reach 
  Kommandant Irusk undamaged!”
  “The only way to protect them is to smash those bloody 
  helljacks!” Ossrum shot back. When Malakov hesitated, he 
  added, “My ’jacks are down—you need to attack! Try to 
  disengage and I guarantee we’ll have nothing but wreckage 
  at the end of this.”
  Malakov glared at him, but Ossrum could see he had 
  gotten through. The Khadoran focused his will to force 
  the Conquests to reverse. Their engines roared. The earth 
  shook underfoot as they built up momentum on a counter-
  charge. Ossrum took advantage of their noisy distraction to 
  close on his own target: the cephalyx overlord. He drew his 
  hand cannon as he ran, aiming it at one of the intervening 
  cephalyx slavers, and it bucked as it discharged. The will-
  guided bullet struck the cephalyx in its leather-clad torso, 
  slamming it to the ground as its spidery blades clattered in 
  its death throes.
  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one Conquest bring a 
  huge, armored fist down on top of a Leviathan, crushing 
  it to pieces. The effect was disturbingly similar to bringing 
  a boot down on a spider. He was certain even Khadoran 
  heavy armor would have been torn to pieces by this many 
  helljacks if they had confronted only one colossal at a time, 
  but the three Conquests fighting side by side obliterated 
  one helljack after the next with punishing impacts of their 
  great fists.
  The overlord floated slightly above the ground ahead, 
  with a mentally enslaved dwarven gun corps soldier 
  standing protectively in front of it. As Ossrum neared, the 
  cephalyx turned its bizarre multi-eyed head toward him 
  and something flared against his power field. His ears 
  rang from the psychic assault, but he continued to set one 
  foot in front of the other. Again invisible force hammered 
  into his brain, but he gritted his teeth against the pain and 
  moved closer.
  The Rhulic slave rushed forward, axe in hand, his eyes 
  tormented. Ossrum fired. The heavy ball struck the dwarf 
  in his left knee, shattering the joint, and he dropped to the 
  ground in a heap.
  Ossrum was within a dozen feet of the overlord now. 
  Again it blasted him with psychic energy, slowly moving 
  backward as it hurled shards of mental agony at him. He 
  managed to aim and fire his hand cannon. The shot struck 
  the cephalyx high on its right shoulder, spinning it around. 
  The psychic pressure on his brain ceased, his vision cleared, 
  and he closed the remaining gap. The overlord’s spidery 
  blades jabbed down into his power field, penetrating it in 
  numerous places and drawing a line of burning fire across 
  
  119
  his face. Ossrum lashed out with Oathkeeper and drove its 
  edge deep into the cephalyx’s flesh with a satisfying crunch, 
  and his head echoed with psychic dying screams.
  He jerked Oathkeeper from the corpse and drew a 
  deep breath. His ears were ringing, but he realized the 
  sounds of battle were fading. The Conquests waited 
  nearby, relatively quiet now that they had annihilated 
  the Cryxians sent against them. Of his own men, Ossrum 
  counted thirty dead and twice that number wounded. 
  Among the injured was Kargul, who had taken a 
  Leviathan spike through one thick leg before finishing 
  the helljack with his battle cannon. The ogrun sergeant 
  was still shouting orders to his men as they placed him 
  on one of the medical wagons.
  Ossrum had lost all his warjacks except Breacher and two 
  Gunners in the battle, and he saw the Khadoran had lost 
  one of his Demolishers. All three Conquests showed signs 
  of battle damage, heaviest along the lower portions of 
  their legs. The one at the fore had one leg badly torn, and 
  its dangling right arm suggested more serious damage. 
  Kovnik Malakov broke away from his senior mechaniks 
  when Ossrum approached.
  “One suffered badly,” the Khadoran said in an accusatory tone.
  “At least you can repair it. Could have been far worse.”
  “True,” he allowed. It was obvious the kovnik was 
  unaccustomed to being wrong. “Committing the Conquests 
  was the right thing to do. My condolences for your 
  casualties. Your men fought bravely.”
  “Thank you, Kovnik,” Ossrum said with a nod. He offered 
  the young warcaster a grim smile. “You can tell Supreme 
  Kommandant Irusk his Conquests are fully battle tested 
  now. Consider it a bonus.”
  CloCkers Cove
  Bartolo Montador stepped off his skiff and onto the well-
  worn dock, his heavy mechanikal blade Rip Tide at his hip. 
  His destination loomed at the end of the pier, an immense 
  warehouse fronting a smoke-bellowing factory complex 
  within a tangle of dockside buildings. Once a major 
  shipwright, Black Anchor Heavy Industries was not only 
  the largest foundry in Clocker’s Cove but also the largest 
  privately owned warjack foundry in western Immoren.
  Montador offered his hand to a slim, dark-haired woman 
  still in the skiff. Her black and purple warcaster armor 
  bore the triple arrows of Thamar, leaving no mistake about 
  her identity. Fiona the Black accepted his assistance with 
  a bemused smile and then moved ahead of him onto the 
  pier, balancing her three-pronged spear Viper over one 
  shoulder as she scanned for potential threats. Behind her 
  came the stout, grease-stained woman called Dirty Meg, 
  toting a sizable wrench, and his master gunner, Dougal 
  MacNaile, whose belt supported a sheathed cutlass and a 
  holstered quad iron.
  The captain led his crew toward the foundry, a smug smile 
  on his bearded face. The last time he had felt such eager 
  anticipation had been on visiting Black Anchor almost ten 
  years ago, after the foundry had refitted the Calamitas with 
  steam engines and added to its considerable firepower. It was 
  time to add a similarly impressive weapon to his arsenal.
  A dozen yards from the warehouse they heard the rumble 
  and shriek of a steam-driven mechanikal apparatus, and the 
  building’s huge double doors, over thirty feet high, began to 
  slide open. At first they saw only the glare of blazing forges 
  within the cavernous space, but then a massive shadow fell 
  across the pier.
  “Thamar’s teeth!” Dougal MacNaile exclaimed. “Look at 
  the size of it!”
  The Galleon seemed to shimmer, backlit by the brilliance 
  of the forges, which cast a radiance across its heavy steel 
  plates. The highest of its three towering smokestacks nearly 
  brushed the lintel of the gargantuan doors. Its head sat low 
  on its torso, fitted with a single eye. Its left arm terminated 
  in an enormous toothed claw that looked equally ideal for 
  lifting heavy cargo into a ship’s hold or crushing an enemy 
  warjack into scrap. Its right arm was taken up by a three-
  pronged trident, easily as big as a ship’s anchor. Cannons 
  protruded from gun ports on its chest, three to a side.
  Montador grinned and clapped his hands together. “See, 
  old man?” he said to Dougal. “With enough money you can 
  make nearly any fantasy a reality.”
  A group of men emerged from behind the Galleon. The 
  one in the lead was stout and muscular, his bald head 
  tattooed with esoteric symbols. He was unarmed save for 
  a large smith’s hammer that hung from his belt. This was 
  Montador’s primary contact, Waldron Faller, who was 
  also the senior mechanik of Black Anchor and had partial 
  ownership of the company. Those with him were obviously 
  guards, each armored in a knee-length mail hauberk and 
  carrying a short-hafted battleaxe and a heavy blunderbuss.
  “Captain!” Waldron Faller exclaimed as he spread his 
  brawny arms. “Tell me what you think of her. A real beaut, 
  don’t you agree?”
  suddenlY hulkinG  
  shadoWs burst from the  
  trees on the oPPosite side  
  of the Column.
  
  120
  “I can safely say I have never been so eager to part with 
  my own money,” Montador said, striding forward to clasp 
  Waldron’s hand in his own.
  “Good gods, I can’t wait to get a closer look at that beast!” 
  Dirty Meg exclaimed, a grin wrinkling her wide face. 
  “But is that trident launching mechanism the same as the 
  harpoon cannon you installed on the Dark Passage? I heard 
  the release clamps were prone to breakage.”
  Faller’s smile became strained. “Every system on this 
  machine has been tested and refined. You’ll have no 
  problems with her.” Meg opened her mouth to ask another 
  question, but he cut her off. “As much as I’d like to talk 
  shop with a fellow wrencher, a demonstration is in order.”
  “I’d sure like to see it in action,” Montador said. When Dirty 
  Meg gave him a dark glare, he muttered, “Don’t worry; I’ll let 
  you crawl all over the bloody thing before we take her aboard 
  the Calamitas. Right now, I want to see what she’s got.”
  Faller raised his right hand into the air. The noise of the 
  bustling harbor and the foundry were suddenly drowned 
  out by a hissing blast of steam and the roar of the Galleon’s 
  three smokestacks as the warjack came to life. Its right arm 
  straightened out and rose to chest level, pointing its trident 
  out at the harbor. Its single eye glowed red.
  “Who’s controlling it?” Fiona whispered to Bartolo, leaning 
  close. “There’s a warcaster here, somewhere.”
  Montador frowned. He was considerably less sensitive to 
  such things than Fiona. He scanned those nearest but saw 
  no immediate signs. “No idea.”
  “My friends,” Faller shouted, “if you’ll cast your gaze to the 
  barge at the end of the dock . . .”
  Montador had seen the scow sitting low in the water when 
  they’d arrived. He looked at it more closely and saw that 
  thick, rust-pitted slats of beaten iron draped its ugly bulk, 
  weighing it down.
  Faller held up his right arm again and clenched his fist. 
  There was a muffled boom, and the Galleon’s trident flew 
  from the end of its arm trailing a length of chain. The triple 
  points of the mammoth harpoon slammed into the armored 
  scow at a downward angle, perforating both the thick iron 
  and the wooden hull beneath.
  The high-pitched whir of a mechanikal winch sounded 
  from deep inside the Galleon, and the chain drew taut. The 
  scow was reeled quickly through the water as the colossal 
  leaned back and braced its feet to steady itself, prompting 
  the metal deck plating beneath it to groan and pop. Before 
  the scow reached the pier, Faller dropped his arm, and the 
  six cannons across the Galleon’s chest roared to life with 
  flashes of flame and clouds of smoke. Two plumes of water 
  indicated where cannonballs had missed their target, but 
  the others impacted the scow’s hull, exploding wood apart 
  and splitting the ship in half. The wreck sank beneath the 
  water as the Galleon’s trident retracted loudly.
  Faller made a swiping motion across his neck. The Galleon’s 
  boiler quieted, and its eye’s red light faded.
  “That trident looks to have impressive range for the weight,” 
  MacNaile said under his breath to Montador. “And those 
  cannons make for a nice little broadside.”
  Meg asked, “Is the trident ready to be fired again?”
  The senior mechanik nodded proudly. “It has three 
  launching charges. The cannons are self-reloading, eight 
  shots apiece. If you run out of ammo, send it in. Between 
  the cargo claw and the trident nothing will last long.”
  Meg gave the captain an impressed look. He nodded and 
  said, “Ideally I’d like a pair of these. Any discount for two?”
  Faller’s grin disappeared, and his guards moved a bit closer. 
  “This is the only one ready, but two more are in various 
  stages of assembly. However . . .” Montador scowled and 
  waited. He could sense his companions tense. Faller sighed 
  and gave a tight smile as he said, “Naturally an opportunity 
  like this attracts competition. Two days ago another buyer 
  arrived to put in a bid—on the entire production run. I’m 
  willing to open up bidding between you two, and he’ll 
  abide by the result.”
  “Bidding?” Montador shouted, his face reddening. “I’m 
  the bloody buyer! I should level this whole bloody harbor 
  and take what’s mine.” He jerked his head to where the 
  Calamitas loomed beyond the pier, dwarfing every other 
  ship on the water, with Fiona’s own heavily armed vessel 
  anchored beside it.
  “You could do that, Captain,” a deep, commanding voice said 
  from behind the Galleon. “But you’d miss an opportunity. 
  And make enemies even Broadsides Bart can’t afford.” 
  The man moved into the light, walking with a pronounced 
  limp. His leg was supported by a heavy a brace, but coal 
  smoke trailed from exhausts in his warcaster armor, and 
  Montador noticed a peculiar modified mechanikal blade at 
  his hip and the butt of a scattergun projecting over his right 
  shoulder. His right arm had been replaced entirely with a 
  mechanikal prosthetic, and his weathered face bore heavy 
  scarring. Just behind him a tall, thin figure moved with 
  a duelist’s casual grace, his own face partially obscured 
  beneath the cowl of a heavy gray cloak.
  “I’d say we found our warcaster,” Fiona said under her breath. 
  “Asheth Magnus,” Montador said, his voice carrying both 
  amazement and disgust. He had hoped Faller was bluffing 
  to inflate the price. But if there was one man who had the 
  resources to bid against him on multiple Galleons, it would 
  
  121
  be the notorious ex-Cygnaran mercenary. “Aren’t you one of 
  the most wanted in Cygnar? Some risk, coming here. What 
  brought you out of your hole?” He eyed the youth behind 
  Magnus with curiosity, noting his arrogant, hawkish look.
  “He wants our bloody colossal, Captain,” Dirty Meg said 
  and spat. Her hand tightened on her heavy wrench.
  Dougal MacNaile growled, “Let’s see him try and take it.”
  “Yes,” Fiona said, an excited lilt to her voice. “I’d like to see 
  that as well.”
  “Come, now.” Magnus’ voice was quiet and dry. “Why so 
  eager to pick a fight? We have a matter to discuss.”
  Tension was thick in the air. Montador made an adjustment 
  with his left arm to prepare the holdout hidden in his own 
  prosthetic for firing. “I suppose we can spare a moment to 
  listen to the great Asheth Magnus,” he said, his voice only 
  slightly sarcastic. “But know that standing between me 
  and what’s mine can be dangerous.” He looked to Faller, 
  who was watching the exchange. “That goes for you also, 
  my friend.”
  The senior mechanik inclined his head slightly. “Gentlemen, 
  I leave you to your discussion. Magnus, you know where to 
  find me once you reach an agreement.” He and his guards 
  disappeared into the foundry.
  Magnus let him go, then said to Montador, “I am not 
  interested in a bidding war. In fact, I have a way you could 
  leave here richer rather than poorer: under my contract.” 
  MacNaile grunted, and Montador raised a bushy eyebrow. 
  “You wish to hire me?” He chuckled. “I don’t come cheap, 
  sir. And I’m feeling especially pricey today.” Next to him, 
  Fiona laughed appreciatively.
  “I’m interested in an open-ended contract together with 
  Fiona and your entire fleet, at twice your regular rate.” 
  Montador felt his eyebrows rise at the offer even as he heard 
  Dirty Meg’s sharp intake of breath. Magnus continued, 
  “Once we have the Galleons, the Calamitas can take us to 
  Five Fingers. If things go as planned, you’ll still be the first 
  to employ them in battle. Even better, their upkeep will be 
  at my expense.”
  “That’s an awful generous offer,” Montador admitted, 
  feeling rising excitement. He had been prepared to drop 
  a small fortune to get his hands on a colossal or two, but 
  he far preferred making money to spending it. It was also 
  clear Magnus was up to something big. “But I have to say, 
  I’d rather not see Five Fingers in flames. I have quite a few 
  friends there.”
  Magnus laughed. He said, “Never fear, my war is not with 
  that city. It will serve as a place to lie low, gather supplies, 
  and recruit some additional men.”
  Montador’s mind raced. The Four Star Syndicate had to be 
  part of this, he considered. It sounded as though Magnus 
  was putting together an army beyond the scope of any 
  mercenary contract he had heard of. He glanced at Fiona, 
  but as usual her ivory features were unreadable. “I dislike 
  offers that sound too good to be true. I’d like to see the color 
  of your gold.”
  Magnus reached beneath his cloak and pulled out a cloth-
  wrapped bundle. He tossed it to the sea captain, who caught 
  it deftly. It was quite heavy for its size, and Montador was 
  not surprised when he unwrapped it to reveal a bar of 
  gold, stamped with the mark of the Leryn-Corvis Bullion 
  Exchange. “I’ve recently come into quite a lot of money,” 
  Magnus said casually.
  The Ordic warcaster handed the gold bar to Fiona, whose 
  expression brightened as she examined it. He scowled and 
  pretended to consider, but his decision had been made the 
  moment Magnus had mentioned the open-ended contract. 
  The rogue warcaster was up to something, something 
  big. Montador would take his gold, see what he had in 
  mind, and then sell the information to the King of Ord, 
  whose letter of marque he bore. If things went south . . . 
  well, the Meredius was a big place, and warcaster armor 
  was heavy—heavy enough to send a crippled man to the 
  bottom, should he fall overboard.
  Montador smiled hugely and extended his right hand to 
  Magnus. “We’ll take you and your merchandise aboard as 
  soon as you’re ready to leave.”
  the six Cannons aCross the 
  Galleon’s Chest roared to 
  life With flashes of flame 
  and Clouds of smoke.
  
  122
  FEAt: PERFECt PlAN 
  Alone among Rhulic 
  generals, Ossrum knows 
  the value of seizing the 
  initiative. By his power he 
  can instill his troops with a 
  sudden burst of irrepressible 
  speed and mobility, all 
  while shielding them from 
  retaliation. Moving swiftly 
  across the battlefield they 
  shrug off incoming fire as 
  they secure key objectives 
  and put the enemy on the 
  defensive. 
  While in Ossrum’s control 
  range, friendly Rhulic 
  models gain +2 ARM. 
  Friendly Rhulic models/units activating in this model’s 
  control area gain +2 SPD and Pathfinder 
   . Perfect Plan lasts 
  for one round.  
  Mercenary – This model will work for Cygnar, Khador, and the 
  Protectorate. 
  gENERAl oSSRuM 
  Martial discipline – Friendly living Faction warrior models 
  with small or medium bases can ignore friendly Faction warrior 
  models in this model’s command range when determining LOS 
  and can advance through friendly Faction warrior models in 
  this model’s command range if they have enough movement to 
  move completely past them. 
  Rhulic Warcaster – This model can have only Mercenary Rhulic 
  warjacks in its battlegroup and can reactivate only friendly 
  Mercenary Rhulic warjacks. 
  oAtHkEEPER 
   Magical Weapon
  Critical decapitation – On a critical hit, double the damage 
  exceeding the ARM of the model hit. A model disabled by this 
  attack cannot make a Tough roll. 
  the disenfranchised warriors of Rhul’s poorer western 
  clans. Ossrum first distinguished himself by beating back 
  incursions by Khadorans seeking to “clarify” their shared 
  borders. Rather than simply defending Rhulic territory, he 
  drove into the enemy, repelling them time and again. 
  Ossrum’s disdain for traditional tactics and preference for 
  bold maneuvers quickly earned him a mixed reputation. 
  While his juniors admired his inventiveness, he often drew 
  the ire of those to whom he reported. Despite the testimony 
  of his detractors, the Dhurg stone lord took notice of 
  Ossrum’s victories and eventually awarded him the 
  vaunted title of General, authorizing him to command the 
  combined soldiers of lesser clans. This honor only increased 
  the animosity from elder clan lords, who could not stomach 
  his methods. 
  As age begins to catch up with him, Ossrum sees his best 
  and last chance for glory in the conflagrations sweeping 
  across western Immoren. The wealth he earns matters 
  little; anything beyond that required to restock supplies 
  and pay his men finds its way back to Clan Dhurg. Ossrum 
  continually scrutinizes his assets, ensuring his men remain 
  in fighting shape and confirming his warjacks stand fueled 
  and ready. Those who employ him secure a fighting force 
  equal to any that can be mustered by the standing armies of 
  the Iron Kingdoms. Always on the advance, General Ossrum 
  greets each morning with fresh enthusiasm, intending that 
  should the day be his last, it will end in glory.
  BullEt dodgER 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly model gains +2 DEF against ranged attack rolls and Dodge. 
  (A model with Dodge can advance up to 2˝ immediately after an enemy 
  attack that missed it is resolved unless it was missed while advancing. It 
  cannot be targeted by free strikes during this movement.) 
  ENERgIzER 
  * 
  SElF CtRl 
  – 
  No No 
  This model spends up to 3 focus points to cast Energizer. Models in 
  its battlegroup that are currently in its control area can immediately 
  advance up to 1˝ for each focus point spent. Energizer can be cast only 
  once per turn. 
  FIRE FoR EFFECt 
  3 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Boost the attack and damage rolls of target friendly Faction model’s first 
  ranged attack each activation. 
  SNIPE 
  2 
  6 
  – 
  – 
  yES No 
  Target friendly model’s/unit’s ranged weapons gain +4 RNG. 
  StRANglEHold 
  2 
  10 
  – 
  11 
  No yES 
  A model damaged by Stranglehold forfeits either its movement or its 
  action during its next activation, as its controller chooses. 
  uNStoPPABlE FoRCE 2 
  SElF CtRl 
  – 
  No No 
  While in this model’s control area, models in its battlegroup gain Bulldoze. 
  Unstoppable Force lasts for one turn. (When a model with Bulldoze 
  advances into B2B contact with an enemy model during its activation, 
  it can push that model up to 2˝ directly away from it. A model can be 
  pushed by Bulldoze only once per activation. Bulldoze has no effect when 
  a model makes a trample power attack.) 
  SPEllS 
  CoSt RNg AoE PoW 
  uP oFF
  Warriors who possess the fighting spirit and irrepressible 
  brilliance of General Ossrum Dhurg fear not the perils of 
  war but rather the possibility of an ignoble death off the field 
  of battle. In his prime Ossrum earned fame for favoring his 
  startling improvisation and adaptability over time-honored 
  Rhulic tactics. He believes in taking the fight to the enemy 
  and picking his own ground. His men regard him with a 
  mix of respect and affection, not merely for the victories he 
  brings their clans but also because he asks nothing of them 
  he will not do himself.
  Born to Great Clan Dhurg, one of the thirteen founding 
  clans of Rhul, Ossrum has always served as a professional 
  soldier, fighting alongside and eventually commanding the 
  forces of Hammerfall Fortress. He heard the call of war from 
  the youngest age, seeing action early in the feuds between 
  General Ossrum 
  MERCENARy RHulIC WARCAStER
  Battle is the greatest expression of the Rhulic soul. No other endeavor measures our strength, our 
  spirit, and our resolve so thoroughly.
  —General Ossrum
   4 
  6 
  7 
  6 
  14 17 
  9
  general oSSrUm 
  Hand cannon 
   rng roF aoe Pow
   12 
  1 
  — 
  12
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  oatHkeePer
   
  7 
  13
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  Focus 
  6 
  Damage 
  18 
  FielD allowance 
  c 
  warjack Points 
  +5 
  small Base 
  
  123
  
  124
  
  125
  GalleOn
  Dear Honored Sirs,
  Black Anchor counts you among its noblest friends and patrons.
  Without your dedication to our services and goods, our modest 
  company could never have reached the pinnacle of success we 
  now enjoy. You have shown the discernment of a connoisseur 
  and unflinching dedication to the highest standards—
  standards we strive not only to meet, but to exceed. We will 
  proudly stand by our product even when set against the best 
  machines any kingdom arsenal can produce! You may have 
  encountered such hyperbole from our competitors in the past, 
  but you know we do not make such claims lightly.
  It is for this reason we send you this missive. You stand 
  among the select few in all of western Immoren who 
  possess the hard-earned wealth and the foresight to take 
  advantage of groundbreaking opportunities such as the one 
  we now offer. With these considerations in mind, we give 
  you the chance to be the among the first to own the most 
  powerful implement of war ever created. We encourage you 
  to act quickly. Such a chance may not come again, and we 
  anticipate a high degree of interest. 
  We call it the Galleon, a construct as massive and unyielding 
  as the ships from which it draws its name. It has been 
  perfectly designed to advance the interests of those who 
  earn their living as swords for hire and takes into account 
  the wide-ranging needs of that noble profession.
  The Galleon towers over even the largest of the warjacks that 
  came before it, and yet it retains all the flexibility of those 
  smaller cousins. Furthermore, its arsenal includes sufficient 
  instruments of defense and offense to make those of a 
  fortress pale in comparison. Never has so much firepower 
  been concentrated in a single walking arsenal. Engineered to 
  provide you the battlefield control you demand, the Galleon 
  will grant you the freedom to go where you want, when 
  you want, and vanquish anyone who stands in your way. It 
  does so with advanced mechanikal innovation, exhilarating 
  steam-powered performance, and remarkable precision. 
  The Galleon is easily maintained to take the fight to your 
  enemies for decades to come! Our expert mechaniks are 
  prepared to train any qualified steam worker in the upkeep 
  of this modern marvel.
  We look forward to further correspondence with you 
  as together we open an exciting new chapter in both our 
  partnership and the pursuit of peace in western Immoren.
  Sincerely,
  Waldron Faller 
  Chief Mechanik 
  Black Anchor Heavy Industries
  
  126
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  cargo claw
   
  3 
  19
   
  Pow 
  P+s
  trident Strike
   
  5 
  21
  tACtICAl tIP
  drag – “Any distance” means “as much as necessary,” not “any 
  distance the player chooses.” Colossals cannot be moved as a 
  result of Drag. 
   
  leFt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
     
   
   
  l 
  c 
  c 
    
  l 
  l 
  c 
  c 
  c
   l 
  l 
  m m m m 
   
  rigHt Damage
   1 
  2 
  3 
  4 
  5 
  6
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
    
   
   
   
   
   c  c 
  r 
   
   
   
   c 
  c 
  c 
  r 
  r 
   m  m m m 
  r 
  r 
  guN PoRt 
  Rapid Fire [d3] – When 
  you decide to make initial 
  attacks with this weapon 
  at the beginning of this 
  model’s combat action, 
  roll a d3. The total rolled 
  is the number of initial 
  attacks this model can 
  make with this weapon 
  during the combat action, 
  ignoring ROF. 
  HARPooN 
  CANNoN 
  drag – If this weapon 
  damages an enemy model 
  with an equal or smaller 
  base, immediately after 
  the attack is resolved 
  the damaged model can 
  be pushed any distance 
  directly toward this model. 
  After the damaged model 
  is moved, this model can 
  make one normal melee 
  attack against the model pushed. After resolving this melee 
  attack, this model can make additional melee attacks during 
  its combat action. 
  CARgo ClAW 
   open Fist
  GalleOn 
  MERCENARy ColoSSAl
  The bigger the engine, the bigger the guns, boy. That’s as true on land as it is at sea.
  —Broadsides Bart
   
  gUn Port
   rng roF aoe Pow
   14 
  1 
  3 
  13
  HarPoon cannon 
   10 
  1 
  — 
  15
  gUn Port
   rng roF aoe Pow
   rng roF aoe Pow
   14 
  1 
  3 
  13
  FielD allowance 
  2 
  Point cost 
  18 
  Huge Base 
   5 16 
  6 
  5 
  9 
  19 
  —
  galleon
   sPD str mat rat  DeF arm cmD
  The raw might of a naval ironhull now walks the lands of 
  western Immoren as the Galleon. When unleashed upon a 
  battlefield, the Galleon fires a rolling broadside comparable 
  to that of a small ship of war. The colossal interrupts its 
  deafening percussion only to reach out with its enormous 
  cargo claw to toss a warjack like a rag doll or to use its 
  massive trident to reel in resilient foes and finish them off 
  at close range with a series of punishing blows. The Galleon 
  commands a high price, but for those mercenaries who have 
  the fortune to spend, it fights as a symbol of unquestionable 
  affluence and might.
  Only the Black Anchor Heavy Industries consortium 
  could have dreamed of bringing together the engineering 
  specialties and manufacturing capability needed to create 
  a weapon like the Galleon. The feat required tremendous 
  resources, hundreds of laborers, and dozens of highly 
  skilled craftsmen and mechaniks, including those who 
  might otherwise be employed by military armories.
  Originally known as Black Anchor Shipwrights, the 
  company originated in the southern Cygnaran port city 
  of Clockers Cove several decades ago. Established to 
  fabricate high-quality hybrid sail/steamships, it soon 
  attracted a number of ambitious and talented engineers 
  and mechaniks, including Steam and Iron Workers Union 
  members who had enjoyed employment with prestigious 
  factories such as the Cygnaran Armory, Engines West, and 
  Rohannor Steamworks. Black Anchor quickly gained a 
  reputation among private merchant guilds and privateers 
  for being able to solve difficult engineering challenges and 
  for producing ships capable of running naval blockades—
  those built for speed but also armed to the teeth. As a 
  relatively lawless port, Clockers Cove served as the perfect 
  staging ground for the outfit’s industry, and Black Anchor 
  thrived by aiding clients who valued discretion. For 
  example, the company designed and manufactured the 
  l
  r
  l
  r
  r
  HeigHt / WeigHt: 33´, 71 tons
  ArmAment: duaL sets of triPLe gun batteries (Left and right chassis), trident 
  harPoon cannon (Left arm), cargo cLaw (right arm)
  Fuel loAd / Burn usAge: 2,500 Lbs / 5 hrs generaL, 40 mins combat
  initiAl service dAte: 608 ar
  cortex mAnuFActurer: fraternaL order of wizardry
  orig. cHAssis design: bLack anchor heaVy industries
  
  127
  truly massive steam engines, pontoons, and specialized 
  armament Captain Bartolo Montador used to refit the 
  Calamitas. That large-scale engineering project paved the 
  way for what was to come.
  As Black Anchor’s reputation and wealth grew, so did its 
  facilities. Eventually, the organization expanded into the 
  business of repairing and assembling steamjacks; within 
  short order, it was outfitting labor ’jacks with weaponry. 
  Facilities once built to service ships increasingly began 
  to create parts for both labor ’jacks and decommissioned 
  warjacks. As Black Anchor became more adept at 
  reproducing ’jack chassis invented by others, it added 
  several notable and wealthy mercenary outfits and 
  independent warcasters to its growing clientele. Soon the 
  warjack side of the business became dominant. Though the 
  company still produces the occasional private vessel, its 
  governing board renamed the entity Black Anchor Heavy 
  Industries to reflect its change in focus.
  Black Anchor’s competence ultimately attracted the 
  attention 
  of 
  powerful 
  financial 
  backers, 
  including 
  benefactors from the wealthiest merchant houses of Ord. 
  With such resources, the company began to conceive and 
  launch truly ambitious projects. It also established a reliable 
  grapevine through its union steamos, who frequently 
  communicated with counterparts in various military 
  armories. It was not long before Black Anchor’s owners 
  learned of colossal factories operated by the Cygnaran 
  Armory in nearby Caspia as well as the Rigevnya Complex 
  in Korsk. Loath to back down from a potentially lucrative 
  challenge, Black Anchor decided to gamble and see if its 
  own production capabilities were up to muster. 
  Thus began the most ambitious mechanikal project ever 
  undertaken by a private interest. Even as its lead mechaniks 
  began to draft the schematics, Black Anchor retrofitted 
  one of its largest dry docks in order to produce its first 
  colossal. Company negotiators secured arrangements with 
  the Fraternal Order of Wizardry to acquire a limited run of 
  custom-built, oversized arcanum cortexes—an expensive 
  grade normally intended for heavy ’jacks.
  Possessing such a rich nautical history, Black Anchor 
  naturally drew upon its expertise in maritime engineering 
  to construct and arm the Galleon. Indeed, the weight of the 
  colossal’s guns is identical to that favored by Black Anchor 
  frigates, and its huge trident shares design elements with 
  the massive harpoon cannons used by commercial whalers. 
  Since its first test runs along the docks of Clockers Cove, 
  the Galleon has raised some eyebrows, particularly among 
  agents of the Cygnaran Reconnaissance Service, who noted 
  that the first of these machines was loaded onto an Ordic 
  privateer vessel connected with the Four Star Syndicate. 
  The existence of such a dangerous weapon ensures an 
  interesting—and undoubtedly profitable—future for those 
  mercenary companies with the resources to procure a 
  colossal of their own.
  galleon concePtUal deSignS
  
  128
  Mercenary – This model 
  will work for Cygnar and 
  Khador.
  Animoisity [Morrowan] –  
  This model cannot be 
  included in an army that 
  includes one or more 
  models of the listed type.
  ALEXIA
   Fearless
   Terror
  Arcane Vortex – This model 
  can immediately negate 
  any spell that targets it or a 
  model within 3˝ of it by spending 1 soul token before the RNG 
  of the spell is measured. The negated spell does not take effect, 
  but its COST remains spent. 
  Ghost Shield – This model gains +1 ARM for each soul token 
  currently on it. 
  MAGIC ABILITY [8]
  • Grave Summons (★Action) – When this model uses Grave 
  Summons it can spend any number of soul tokens. For each 
  soul token spent put one friendly Thrall Warrior solo into play 
  anywhere completely within 3˝ of this model. 
  • Hellfire (★Attack) – Hellfire is a RNG 10, POW 14 magic 
  attack. A model/unit hit by Hellfire must pass a command 
  check or flee. 
  Soul Collector – This model gains one soul token when a living 
  enemy model is destroyed in its command range. This model 
  can have up to three soul tokens at a time. During its activation, 
  this model can spend soul tokens to gain additional attacks or to 
  boost attack or damage rolls at one token per attack or boost.
  WITChFIrE
   Magical Weapon
  Mage Killer – Gain an additional damage die on this weapon’s 
  damage rolls against models with Spellcaster or Magic Ability.
  TACTICAL TIpS
  Magic ability — Performing a Magic Ability special action or 
  special attack counts as casting a spell.
  grave SuMMonS — The Thrall Warrior models can activate the 
  turn they are put into play.
  AlexiA, Mistress of the Witchfire 
  MErCEnArY EpIC ChArACTEr CAVALrY SoLo 
  Alexia’s very presence cleaves through destiny unraveling the weft of fate.
  —Sybeth Roane
   
  Shadows obscure her every movement, but the name 
  Alexia Ciannor is known across the war-torn Iron 
  Kingdoms. She has garnered a reputation for pitilessness, 
  blasphemy, and sorcerous power that seems out of 
  proportion for one so young. Where she goes, chaos and 
  destruction follow, and those she chooses to fight beside—
  for whatever inscrutable reasons—fear her as much her 
  enemies do. Her mastery of the dread blade called the 
  Witchfire has increased in just a few short years, and now 
  the dead do her bidding gladly, rising at her command 
  like soldiers eager to fight for their queen.
  Since the nightmarish events of the Longest Night in 
  603 AR, Alexia’s infamy has only grown. Those few who 
  knew her in those days say she has grown madder still, 
  haunted by the ghost of her mother and those who burned 
  alongside her in that ghastly trial. Some suggest that since 
  then, the chorus of specters in her head has been joined by 
  the dozens, perhaps hundreds, of souls that have perished 
  at the end of the Witchfire. 
  Her motives have grown even less discernible as she 
  has made her way across the battlefields of the Iron 
  Kingdoms. Mounted upon an undead steed whose eyes 
  blaze with the necromantic power that animates it, 
  Alexia simply appears on the eve of bloody conflicts to 
  join the fight. She seems as happy to fight for one side as 
  the other, taking her pay in coin and the corpses of the 
  enemy. To what ultimate end Alexia uses the thralls she 
  raises is a question shrouded in darkness. What is certain 
  is that as the wars across western Immoren grow in scope 
  and intensity, so has her mastery over the Witchfire—or 
  perhaps, its mastery over her.
  Those Morrowan priests and witch hunters who follow 
  Alexia’s trail have begun to wonder if her wanderings 
  are not part of some occult design they cannot yet fully 
  comprehend. Perhaps her desire to resurrect the spirit of 
  her mother is only a diversion, a feint by powers to whom 
  Alexia is herself only a pawn.
   8 
  4 
  6 
  5 
  15 16 
  9
  DAMAGE 
  10 
  FIELD ALLOWANCE 
  C 
  POINT COST 
  4 
  LARGE BASE
  AlexiA
   
  POW 
  P+S
  WiTCHFiRe 
   
  8 
  12
   SPD STR MAT RAT  DEF ARM CMD
  POW
  MOUNT
  12
  
  129
  
  ARTiFiCER GENERAL NEmo
  epic warcaster
  SToRm ChASER ADEpT CAiTLiN FiNCh
  character solo
  model GallerY
  ALExiA, miSTRESS oF ThE WiTChFiRE
  epic character cavalry solo
  130
  
  VLADimiR TzEpESCi, GREAT pRiNCE oF UmBREy
  epic warcaster
  131
  
  SToRmWALL & LiGhTNiNG poDS
  colossal & solos
  132
  
  133
  
  134
  
  CoNqUEST
  colossal
  135
  
  136
  
  137
  KRAKEN
  colossal
  
  138
  Large models like colossals pose very different challenges 
  for a painter than smaller figures. For example, their large 
  and well-defined shapes nullify the difficulty inherent in 
  painting fine details. Painters will, however, find the sheer 
  volume of surface area a significant test. In particular, 
  realizing solid, even basecoats over these large surfaces is 
  tough even when using larger brushes. 
  By far the most useful tool to tackle these large areas is 
  an airbrush, and many of the techniques in this section 
  are designed with that in mind. Formula P3 paint works 
  wonderfully with an airbrush. To attain the best possible 
  results use a 50/50 mixture of water and blue window 
  cleaner as an airbrush medium to dilute your paint to the 
  desired consistency and then strain the mixture through a 
  piece of fine wire mesh or nylon stocking. If you do not own 
  an airbrush you can use spray paints instead; just be sure to 
  choose spray paints with a matte finish. 
  With a little bit of daring, these techniques are accessible 
  to all airbrush skill levels, allowing painters to realize 
  eye-popping detail in a relatively short period of time. 
  tWo-tone Primer
  Using a two-tone primer coat is a sure and simple way 
  to kick-start your colossal painting. First, apply an 
  opaque layer of Formula P3 Black Primer over the entire 
  model in two light coats, ensuring that the deep recesses 
  receive a solid coating while retaining detail. Then 
  apply a second tone of primer from above to provide 
  a general idea of where the highlights and shadows 
  will fall on the finished model. Use a blow dryer to 
  harden the primer between layers. The main advantage 
  of two-tone priming is that it dramatically speeds up 
  the basecoat stage. It can also be used in a variety of 
  clever ways, as you’ll see in the following articles. 
  sPonGe PaintinG
  “Sponge painting” is a term for applying paint using 
  a dabbing or stabbing motion. You don’t need to use an 
  actual sponge for this technique; a small scrap of blister 
  foam or a large round paintbrush works just as well. The 
  important part of the technique is the motion you use to 
  apply the paint. Remember to rotate the sponge or brush 
  on the upswing of each stroke to prevent repeating the 
  same stamp pattern.
  salt WeatherinG
  The salt weathering technique simulates chipped 
  paint quite effectively. First paint an underlayer—
  usually in rusty brown tones—that will show through 
  wherever the paint is later chipped. Then apply clean 
  water to the areas of the model you’d like weathered 
  and sprinkle kosher sea salt over them. Next, apply a 
  layer of paint using either spray primer or an airbrush. 
  Finally, use a nylon brush with stiff bristles to scrub 
  the area vigorously, which removes the salt to reveal 
  flecks of the underlayer. The resulting surface can be 
  worked further to create convincing rust effects or left 
  as is for a quick route to a beautiful gaming model. 
  hairsPraY 
  WeatherinG 
  teChnique
  The hairspray technique recreates the rusting process on a 
  micro scale. First paint an underlayer over the model that 
  will be revealed as the paint chips away. Next apply a heavy 
  layer of hairspray to the model. Then, using an airbrush, 
  apply basecoat and highlight in light layers. Brush clean 
  water onto the model where weathering is desired. Next use 
  a nylon brush with stiff bristles to scrub the area vigorously. 
  The water penetrates the top paint layer and dissolves the 
  hairspray, so the scrubbing will separate the top layer from 
  the underlayer in a realistic manner. Finally, apply a matte 
  sealant to allow the surface to be worked further and to 
  prevent further chipping. 
  PaintinG Colossals
  
  139
  1
  2
  3
  4
  5
  6
  Step 1) Begin by using the two-tone primer technique, 
  starting with two light layers of Formula P3 Black Primer. 
  For the second tone, apply a layer of rust-colored automotive 
  primer from overhead. (You can buy rust-colored primer 
  at most auto-supply stores. Alternatively, you can apply a 
  similar color using drybrushing or an airbrush.)
  Step 2) Airbrush a layer of Khador Red Base onto the flat 
  surfaces of the model. Don’t worry if overspray hits other 
  areas of the model.
  Step 3) Add Khador Red Highlight and some airbrush 
  medium (a 50/50 mix of water and blue window cleaner) 
  to the airbrush paint reservoir and apply highlights. Add 
  more Khador Red Highlight to the reservoir for successive 
  layers of highlights until you achieve the desired effect.
  Normally you would now black out the areas that you will 
  paint metal, but instead just drybrush those areas with Pig 
  Iron followed by a lighter drybrush with Cold Steel. The 
  airbrush overspray that you leave under the Pig Iron will 
  add some character to the metal. 
  Step 4) Apply a paint wash of Battlefield Brown mixed with 
  Exile Blue and a dot of mixing medium to the steel areas.
  Step 5) Mix Brown Ink with Blue Ink and apply it as a glaze 
  to shade the metal further.
  Step 6) Paint the remaining parts of the model using the 
  standard methods detailed in Forces of WARMACHINE: 
  Khador and the weathering technique from the Gun 
  Carriage detailed in WARMACHINE: Wrath.
   khador Red Base
   khador Red Highlight
   Pig Iron
   Cold Steel
   Battlefield Brown
   Exile Blue
   Brown Ink
   Blue Ink
   Mixing Medium
  Conquest
  
  140
  Step 1) Begin by using the two-tone primer technique, 
  starting with two light layers of Formula P3 Black 
  Primer. For the second tone, apply a layer of rust-colored 
  automotive primer from overhead. (You can buy rust-
  colored primer at most auto-supply stores. Alternatively, 
  you can apply a similar color using drybrushing or an 
  airbrush.)
  Step 2) Using the sponge painting method, apply a 
  chaotic rust texture to the model. Bloodstone, Khador Red 
  Highlight, Ember Orange, and Bloodtracker Brown are all 
  good colors to use in this step.
  Step 3) Apply two thorough coats of hairspray to the 
  model, allowing the coats to dry between applications. A 
  blow dryer will speed the drying process significantly. 
  Apply a light coat of Cryx Bane Base mixed with Cryx Bane 
  Highlight to the model. It is important to make this coat 
  of paint fairly light and to avoid total coverage so that the 
  water used in the next step can penetrate the top layer of 
  paint to dissolve the hairspray. A good rule is to make sure 
  that you can just barely see the rust showing through the 
  layer of paint.
  Step 4) Brush clean water onto the surface of the model and 
  then use a stiff-bristled brush to gently abrade the surface, 
  removing the top layer of paint. On areas where it is difficult 
  to get the paint to chip away, use a sharp pin to scratch 
  through the top layer. After achieving the desired effect, seal 
  the model with a spray-on matte sealant and allow it to dry.
  Step 5) Using a fine detail brush, trace a thin line along the 
  top edge of each chip using Thamar Black. Then trace the 
  bottom edge with Cryx Bane Highlight. 
  Step 6) Add translucent drips to the model using a mixture 
  of Cryx Bane Base and mixing medium. To apply the 
  drips, paint a line at the level of the rivets. Before the paint 
  begins drying, use a second, damp brush to pull the paint 
  downward and create the drip effect.
  Step 7) Apply several layers of glaze mixed from Brown 
  Ink and Turquoise Ink to finish the effect, then black out the 
  metallic areas to prepare it for painting.
  Step 8) Paint the blighted gold using the standard method 
  described in Forces of WARMACHINE: Cryx for a dramatic 
  final effect.
   Bloodstone
   khador Red Highlight
   Ember orange
   Bloodtracker Brown
   Cryx Bane Base
   Cryx Bane Highlight
   thamar Black
   Brown Ink
   turquoise Ink
   Blighted gold
  kraken
  1
  2
  3
  5
  6
  7
  4
  8
  PaintinG Colossals
  
  141
  1
  2
  3
  4
  5
  6
  Step 1) Begin by applying a solid coat of Formula P3 Black 
  Primer, then use the sponge painting technique to add a 
  layer of Greatcoat Grey. 
  Step 2) Apply two thorough coats of hairspray to the 
  model, allowing the coats to dry between applications. 
  A blow dryer will speed the drying process significantly. 
  Apply a light coat of Underbelly Blue mixed with Cryx 
  Bane Highlight to the model. It is important to make this 
  coat of paint fairly light around the edges while fading 
  to a solid opacity at the center of each plate. This is so 
  the water will penetrate the paint more easily to dissolve 
  the hairspray around the edges where you want the 
  weathered look. 
  Step 3) Brush clean water onto the surface of the model 
  and then use a stiff-bristled brush to gently abrade the 
  surface, removing areas of the top layer of paint. After you 
  achieve the desired effect, seal the model with a spray-on 
  matte sealant and allow it to dry.
  Step 4) Once again apply two more thorough coats of 
  hairspray to the model allowing the coats to dry between 
  applications. Then, once the hairspray is dry, apply a top 
  coat of Morrow White using the airbrush.
  Step 5) Brush clean water onto the surface of the model 
  and then use a stiff-bristled brush to gently abrade the 
  surface, removing areas of the top layer of paint. Make 
  sure the areas of chipping from step 3 are revealed during 
  this process. After you achieve the desired effect, seal the 
  model with a spray-on matte sealant and allow it to dry. 
  Black out the metallic areas on the model with Thamar 
  Black.
  Step 6) Apply translucent shading with a mixture of 
  Battlefield Brown and Exile Blue. Then using thin glazes of 
  Morrow White, apply highlights sparingly.
  Finally, paint the metals and glow effects using the methods 
  described in Forces of WARMACHINE: Retribution of Scyrah 
  for a final effect that is quite striking. 
   greatcoat grey
   underbelly Blue
   Cryx Bane Highlight
   Morrow White
   thamar Black
   Battlefield Brown
   Exile Blue
  hYPerion
  
  142
  the southern thornWood
  Major Victoria Haley focused her will through the Cyclone 
  to direct a hail of bullets into the mechanithralls pouring 
  from the breach in the crumbling wall. With another part of 
  her mind she maneuvered her Firefly into a better position 
  near the periphery. It fired its storm blaster amid several 
  bile thralls rushing her trenchers from that direction, and 
  lightning arced through them. One of her stormsmiths 
  raised his staff and adjusted his gear to triangulate between 
  the Firefly and another of his peers on the far side of the 
  field. He threw a switch, and the air crackled as surges of 
  energy electrocuted several of the undead that had gotten 
  past the forward line.
  Haley looked through the eyes of her Hunter ranging farther 
  afield, where it raced nimbly through the underbrush 
  and around the trees, searching for whatever entity was 
  directing the thralls. She fired its cannon to neutralize a 
  bloat thrall that had been sending gouts of caustic death 
  over the trees. A squad of rangers accompanied the light 
  ‘jack, occasionally shooting targets of opportunity as they 
  sought to gain a better sense of the disposition of the enemy. 
  Nearer Haley several squads of trenchers and long gunners 
  added volleys of withering fire.
  She reached out mentally for Thorn but failed. 
  Disorientation washed over her until she remembered 
  again that her Lancer was not with her. It had been her idea 
  to lend the ’jack to General Nemo, but actually handing 
  it over and extracting her mind from its cortex had filled 
  her with an intense sense of loss. It was not the first time 
  she had given the machine to another temporarily, but it 
  was the first time since the poison had stripped her of her 
  magic. She had approached the decision with admirable 
  logic: not only would others get better use out of its arcane 
  machinery, but not having it at her disposal would remove 
  the temptation to unleash her powers at a distance. 
  Actually letting it go, however, had been an admission that 
  she was truly crippled.
  Even without Thorn, she had already forgotten her limits 
  more than once, such as when she had begun to extend her 
  hand to summon an explosion of temporal distortion. Pain 
  had flared in her chest and head while her pulse pounded 
  frantically, and she could feel tendrils of the poison 
  spreading. To avoid this she endeavored to keep her mind 
  focused entirely on her machines, immersing herself in the 
  flow of information between their cortexes.
  Even without calling on her magic she felt spasms of 
  occasional pain, which she attempted to conceal from her 
  fellow officers, particularly General Nemo. Her stamina 
  was diminished also, and her legs felt weak even after such 
  a short battle. Only her mechanikal arm was reliable; she 
  had taken to using it to hold Echo and using the weapon 
  as a support. It was imperative she prove her usefulness. 
  She would endure and become stronger. She pushed herself 
  each day a little more, testing her limits, taking care not to 
  betray the exhaustion she felt until she finally collapsed on 
  her cot in private.
  This particular battle against Cryx felt satisfying, as it 
  demonstrated her skill with warjacks had not diminished. 
  Several brigades from the 2nd and 5th Divisions had been 
  advancing for weeks into the Thornwood under General 
  Nemo’s command. They had spread out in a relatively 
  wide sweep to neutralize any Cryxian strongholds or lairs. 
  Eventually they were to combine their forces with other 
  segments of the First Army that had joined the mission 
  into the forest alongside the Khadorans. Now that CRS 
  rangers and Widowmakers were cooperating rather than 
  trying to eliminate one another, they had been able to 
  discover several previously unknown Cryxian facilities, 
  each overrun with undead. The ruins where they now 
  fought were part of a long-abandoned fortress in the 
  Bloodsmeath. More recently, Cryx had erected several 
  necrotite mining facilities here to distill the concentrated 
  fuel that powered helljacks and bonejacks. 
  Haley felt a surge of jealousy to see Captain Darius and the 
  Stormwalls fighting on her left flank. She could not resist 
  sending her Firefly closer to watch through its eyes as the 
  colossals got their first taste of battle. General Nemo had 
  deferred the honor of their initiatory fight to Darius. Cygnar’s 
  foremost mechanik was tasked to put the machines through 
  their paces and ensure their weaponry and loading systems 
  were working smoothly. He had apparently nicknamed the 
  first two Stormwalls Deluge and Blitz.
  Several field mechanik crews kept ready nearby, prepared 
  to spring into action against any mishap with the 
  expensive machines. Leading the army’s small battalion 
  of field mechaniks was none other than Captain Arlan 
  Strangewayes, another of Cygnar’s legendary mechaniks. 
  Listening to Nemo, Strangewayes, and Darius talk shop 
  about their new machines had been diverting during the 
  march from Corvis, soured only by the watchful Khadoran 
  eyes also upon them. Not many Khadoran soldiers 
  accompanied this regiment, but a few Winter Guard squads 
  lingered nearby, no doubt sent to observe the Stormwalls 
  and report back to their superiors.
  Nemo complained that the Thornwood would make 
  a poor test ground for the machines and kept talking 
  about the old Colossal Wars and the Trollkin Wars. 
  Darius insisted the Stormwalls had none of the flaws of 
  in the darkest PlaCe
  Part tWo
  
  143
  the Firefly charging into the midst of the remaining bile 
  thralls, spitting them with its electro glaive before they 
  could also purge. The rescued Winter Guard backed away 
  while firing on the remaining enemies.
  After Darius imbued the two colossals with runic power, 
  they charged forward to confront the dwarfed helljacks. 
  Deluge swept its enormous left fist through a half-dozen 
  thralls that had swarmed close, sending them scattering. 
  Then with its right fist it impacted the nearest Slayer with 
  a deafening sound of metal on metal and sent the helljack 
  flying backward to crash into the Reaper behind it. Blitz 
  shrugged off a Reaper harpoon as a Slayer raked deeply 
  into the steel of its legs and then the colossal battered both 
  helljacks to oblivion in several punishing blows. Where 
  its fists impacted, voltaic coils surged to send lightning 
  streaking into the nearest thralls. Sword knights charged 
  into the fray alongside the Stormwalls to cleave into 
  helljacks with their battle blades. 
  Haley directed her Hunter to fire armor-piercing shells to 
  finish the last bonejacks, and in a few short moments the 
  area was cleared of Cryx. Smoke rose from the wreckage of 
  a dozen shattered ’jacks and from hundreds of rifle barrels, 
  and the Cygnarans looked with stunned amazement at 
  the burning wreckage of trees and thorny shrubs that 
  had been cleared in the vicinity. Then a great cheer went 
  up from the soldiers, directed at the Stormwalls. Haley 
  approached Darius and nodded her admiration, still 
  feeling lingering jealousy. 
  Darius seemed a little stunned at the performance of his 
  machines and exclaimed, “Now that’s a successful field test!”
  Haley’s laugh was cut short by a spike of physical pain 
  in her chest. “I'd have to agree,” she said, trying not to 
  let it show as she watched the mechaniks, directed by 
  Strangewayes, swarm over the Stormwalls. They worked to 
  reload ammunition and repair damage, paying particular 
  attention to Blitz’s leg where the helljacks had hit hardest.
  One of the rangers returned, his face anxious. He said, “That 
  last batch came up from a cave opening just north of here, 
  Major. Looks empty, but we only peeked in a little ways.”
  Haley nodded. “Add it to the map, and take word to 
  Captain Bridgeway that I need him to use his Avenger’s 
  the original colossals from those times. These had been 
  designed specifically for speed and agility despite their 
  mass. Strangewayes groused about the number of moving 
  parts—or, as he put it, the “fiendish complexity”—of a 
  hybrid steam and voltaic system but seemed fond of the 
  machines nonetheless, constantly tending to them and 
  making adjustments. 
  Through the eyes of her Hunter, Haley spotted activity 
  deeper in the forest just as the nearest rangers caught the 
  movement. She was already shouting, “Reinforcements 
  from the north! Take cover!” as the rangers dove behind 
  the nearest trees. The trencher infantry and commandos 
  went prone, while long gunners rushed back and allowed 
  the warjacks to take the fore. Haley caught Darius’ eye and 
  pointed. He nodded and moved into action, runes springing 
  forth around him and the pair of Stormwalls. Haley called 
  to her captains, “Hold fire until my signal!” 
  A fresh tide of steam-fisted mechanithralls crashed through 
  the underbrush. Darius had sunk a pair of mines along that 
  perimeter and detonated them now, obliterating the first 
  thralls. Then the Stormwalls opened fire, and Haley could 
  not help sucking in an appreciative breath. The sound 
  of chain guns spinning up to unleash a torrent of bullets 
  was awe-inspiring, and she sent her Cyclone to add to the 
  onslaught. Bullets pierced through pallid flesh, dropping 
  thralls by the dozens, while the Stormwalls’ main guns 
  delivered punishing shells. Rifle fire from Darius’ men 
  joined the barrage, and the first wave of mechanithralls 
  dropped, but more followed as soldiers hastily reloaded. 
  All the while, helljacks and bonejacks loped toward the 
  colossals. Sword knights stood nearer to the machines on 
  the flanks with Caspian battle blades drawn, ready to strike 
  down any thralls that closed.
  The top hatches on the Stormwalls opened to launch storm 
  pods in high arcs to land behind the nearest enemies. The 
  massive coils atop each colossal’s shoulders flickered blue 
  and then surged with lightning that crashed forth to send 
  a blinding line of searing power, turning everything to ash 
  between each pod and its colossal. Using these galvanic 
  beacons as additional points for triangulation, lightning 
  crashed repeatedly down amid the smoking field, striking 
  thralls and damaging bonejacks in front of the warjacks as 
  the stormcallers did their work. 
  “Bile thralls at the flanks!” one of the rangers shouted, 
  and she saw that biles were approaching from around 
  the crumbled fortress walls amid the distraction of the 
  central battle. A squad of Winter Guard positioned there 
  desperately opened fire with blunderbusses, taking 
  out several. Despite these efforts, one got close enough 
  to purge, spraying caustic fluids across four of the 
  unfortunate Khadorans. She split her soldiers and sent 
  bullets PierCed throuGh 
  Pallid flesh, droPPinG 
  thralls bY the dozens, While 
  the stormWalls' main Guns 
  delivered PunishinG shells.
  
  144
  seismic cannon to bring it down. Be thorough, and look for 
  additional openings.” Bridgeway was one of the division’s 
  senior gun mages and an expert ’jack marshal.
  Haley almost felt normal amid the battle’s aftermath, 
  until she took another step and was nearly overcome by 
  dizziness. She staggered and caught herself by leaning 
  on Echo. Darius spotted her difficulty and turned his 
  rig toward her, his face showing concern. “Are you all 
  right, Major?”
  “I’m fine. It’s nothing,” she said quickly. She gritted her 
  teeth and stood straighter as she ordered her subordinates 
  to resume the march.
  the neCrofaCtorium
  Deneghra strode like a dark tempest from the chamber 
  where Karchev was being kept. Attempting to shape the 
  mind of the unbending Khadoran warcaster was like 
  trying to break an anvil with her bare hands. Asphyxious 
  had shown no willingness to participate in the endeavor, 
  and she now felt his intervention would be necessary. 
  Today she had been tempted to murder her captive and be 
  done with it, but she knew Asphyxious would disapprove. 
  As she passed through the lower chambers of the complex, 
  she mulled over the recent reports on the advance of the 
  allied Cygnarans and Khadorans. She saw Mortenebra 
  approaching on her many spider-like legs and moved to the 
  side. “Master Necrotech,” Deneghra said politely.
  “Wraith Witch,” Mortenebra replied in a sharp tone, coming 
  to a stop and looking at her fixedly. “Good. You can save me 
  some time by relaying a report to Lord Asphyxious.”
  Deneghra’s eyes narrowed and she said, “I asked you to 
  bring any matters to my attention first. You should not 
  trouble him with details.”
  The movement of the ancillary legs and scavenger claws 
  behind Mortenebra’s back now suggested agitation. 
  “Asphyxious made specific demands to be regularly informed 
  about the Kraken progress. I would rather be at liberty to 
  send Deryliss to inform him how little has changed, but the 
  last time I did so I nearly lost an irreplaceable skarlock.”
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part tWo
  
  145
  This brought Deneghra up short. Why would Asphyxious 
  leave her in the dark? Most of the older Krakens were 
  confined to the extensive arsenal of Lich Lord Scopulous, 
  who was frugal about contributing toward efforts on 
  the mainland, and therefore they were rarely seen. After 
  Mortenebra’s arrival, Asphyxious had set her to work 
  forging new colossals for his use at the necrofactorium. “I 
  thought we had completed several Krakens already. Has 
  there been a problem?”
  “Six,” Mortenebra corrected. “I have built six Krakens, each 
  perfect, and created to Lich Lord Asphyxious’ specifications. 
  Yet they are useless.”
  “Useless?” Deneghra asked, alarmed. “What do you mean?”
  “They are inert and unresponsive. That was my message. If 
  you would convey this, I can return to solving the problem. 
  The only explanation is that the plans I was given, which 
  included cortex modifications of Lord Asphyxious’, are 
  flawed. Reverting them will take time.”
  Deneghra’s eyes widened. “Do not revert the cortexes, not 
  without orders. I will speak to Asphyxious. See if you can 
  determine the nature of the problem without deviating 
  from his instructions.” She knew too well how exacting 
  the lich lord was in these matters. He was not prone to 
  flawed design, although given his recent erratic behavior 
  and decisions, Deneghra was not quite as confident about 
  this as she might have been.
  “Very well,” Mortenebra said, “Although I have already 
  done so exhaustively.” Mortenebra spun around and 
  scuttled back into the bowels of the complex.
  Entering unannounced into Asphyxious’ inner audience 
  hall, Deneghra saw him speaking to a ghostly entity near the 
  rear of the chamber, even as she shifted to a wraithlike state. 
  Doing so she was better able to distinguish the being as one 
  of the peculiar mechanikal creatures favored by Lich Lord 
  Malathrax. Even as she identified it, the creature slipped 
  away into the walls and was gone. Given the state of affairs 
  between the two liches, she could not fathom what could 
  possibly require such a courier. It made her distinctly uneasy.
  Asphyxious turned to face her with no acknowledgement 
  of having been interrupted. “Deneghra, what news?” 
  She bowed and offered an unvarnished account of 
  the Kraken situation, anticipating his seething wrath. 
  Instead, he said, “Ah. This is of no concern. Thine 
  instructions to Mortenebra were correct. There is no 
  flaw in the plans.”
  “The fact that the Krakens are unresponsive is no concern?” 
  Deneghra asked, confounded.
  “None at all,” he replied brusquely. He seemed distracted, 
  lost in thought. 
  She said, “My assessment of the strength of the 
  necrofactorium’s defenses relies on the Krakens held in 
  reserve. If they are not battle ready, the threat represented 
  by the approaching Khadoran and Cygnaran armies 
  is much more severe. I have received confirmation 
  that several of the new Khadoran Conquests have 
  broken through our blockade intact, and two Cygnaran 
  Stormwalls were seen leaving Corvis. Without the 
  Krakens to counter—”
  “Enough!” Asphyxious’ voice rang with command, a tone 
  he had not taken with her in years. She felt as if she had 
  been slapped. “I am glad our enemies bring their machines. 
  It will make them overconfident, and once we defeat them, 
  they will make for good salvage.”
  “Of course, my lord,” Deneghra replied. “I do think it would 
  be wise to send additional forces into the field to prepare 
  ambushes before they consolidate, though. I can personally 
  oversee these efforts. We can do considerable damage and 
  deplete their numbers before—”
  “No.” He interrupted her again, in that same tone. “Thou will 
  ready thine army on the perimeter of the necrofactorium. 
  As we initially discussed. If they believe themselves prepared 
  for the fight, all the better. Let them come. Now, leave me, 
  tiresome creature! Trouble me no more with thy foolish and 
  meddlesome suggestions!”
  From the force of the bonds that tied her to him, she was 
  already turning to leave before she had absorbed the impact 
  of the words. Her mind was in turmoil, brought back to 
  distant memories from her youth, when she was still being 
  shaped to the life of a warwitch. Not since those days had 
  Asphyxious shown such open disdain, and even then only 
  when she had displeased him with her inability to retain the 
  lessons. What had happened? Had the bond between them 
  become so tenuous? 
  Even as she grasped at these explanations, a more chilling 
  thought presented itself: his conversation with Malathrax’s 
  agent. Since her meeting with the Coven she had felt a 
  lingering sensation of being watched. Had Asphyxious 
  learned of the arrangements she had made behind his back? 
  It would explain his reluctance to listen to her advice. She 
  had lost his trust. She tried to put the thought aside but felt 
  it eating at her, like a disease. Eager for the distraction of 
  battle, she focused on the task at hand. She would gather 
  their army and stand against the enemy.
  Artificer General Nemo stared out along the ranks of the 
  assembled allied forces. It was an awe-inspiring sight. The 
  First Army of Cygnar stood in ranked formation for 
  inspection directly alongside the 2nd Army of Khador. It 
  
  146
  was strange to consider these were the same once-
  embittered soldiers who had stood on opposite sides of the 
  trench lines protecting Ravensgard and Northguard.
  All in all, the casualties thus far had been relatively light. 
  Nemo mistrusted the general lack of reconnaissance on the 
  enemy. It made the expedition feel reckless, unlike the careful 
  orchestration that had brought Irusk such fame. That said, 
  they had crossed unmolested through several choke points 
  perfect for ambush. Cryx had opposed them only where they 
  had found cave warrens of the undead, fighting bitterly but 
  futilely to prevent Cygnar from collapsing them. It seemed 
  possible their numbers were not as great as originally feared, 
  with the strike against Point Bourne having cost them. If that 
  was true, finishing them now—before they could regroup 
  and acquire reinforcements—was the right move. Lord 
  Commander Stryker was certainly so inclined and was clearly 
  pleased with their rapid pace. There was talk of sending forces 
  down into the caves with explosives, but that had ultimately 
  been rejected. The risk in those unknown warrens was too 
  great; better to simply collapse access and march on. 
  Nemo's eyes were drawn again to the Stormwalls, now 
  baptized in battle by Captain Darius. He had taken control 
  of one for the upcoming clash and transferred the other to 
  Captain Kraye, who seemed well suited to take advantage 
  of its considerable firepower. Darius handled a host of 
  heavy warjacks brought from the armories of Point Bourne, 
  Stonebridge, and Corvis. Every warcaster present was 
  controlling more ’jacks than was typical, with additional 
  machines distributed to their most capable marshals. 
  There had been no sign of Captain Allister Caine or Major 
  Markus Brisbane. Caine’s absence was not a surprise to 
  Nemo, who knew the Second Army had borrowed the 
  gun mage and his escort for some secret operation in the 
  south. Siege’s absence was more worrisome. The officers 
  from Stonebridge had expected him. Irusk had reluctantly 
  admitted one of his kommanders and a standing legion were 
  missing and that the senior officer had been coordinating 
  with Brisbane. Nemo considered it inconceivable that a 
  soldier of Major Brisbane’s caliber might have had a mishap, 
  but in war nothing was certain.
  Lord Commander Stryker approached, offering a tired 
  smile. The look they shared hinted at the depth of the long 
  and sometimes difficult history between them. “General, 
  why are we waiting?” he asked.
  “I don’t know,” Nemo grumbled. “Let’s find out.”
  With Stryker and Storm Chaser Finch following, Nemo 
  approached Irusk where he was reviewing his troops and 
  said, “Our forces are ready, and we do not have ample 
  supplies. You claim to know the location of our enemy. Let 
  us act on that knowledge.”
  Stryker interjected, “Speaking of which, how is it you 
  have such accurate reconnaissance, Kommandant?”
  Irusk stared at them with his typical stone-faced stoicism, 
  only raising a single eyebrow. “You have no need of such 
  information. As to why we have waited, you shall see 
  shortly.” He offered a cold smile.
  It was only another hour before those gathered heard the 
  approaching rumble of powerful steam engines, and there 
  was a stir amid the Khadorans of the arrayed armies. Their 
  temporary encampments occupied an open area they 
  had cleared by chopping back the trees and underbrush. 
  Visibility was still severely limited by the forest.
  Major Haley joined them as they walked west deeper into 
  the Khadoran area, hearing the sounds of cheering ahead. 
  The reason was quickly apparent. The arrivals looked to be 
  a sizable Rhulic mercenary force and a smaller company 
  of Khadoran soldiers, all battle-weary. Their stunned 
  expressions and the scowls the Khadorans directed at the 
  nearby Cygnarans showed they had just recently learned 
  of the alliance. The sight of them was eclipsed by several 
  Khadoran colossals ponderously moving through the 
  opening made for them as soldiers cleared the way. Nemo 
  felt a twinge of bitterness at the sight of the tremendous 
  machines, even larger than the Stormwalls, but built with 
  typical Khadoran lack of finesse. They moved with none 
  of the grace and fluidity of the Cygnaran colossals and 
  poured clouds of heavy smoke into the air from rows of 
  stacks across the heavy boilers on their backs. 
  Nemo realized his Stormwall had taken a step in that 
  direction, causing some alarm among the Cygnaran 
  soldiers. He settled the great machine, reminding its cortex 
  that these were allies even as he reminded himself. The 
  Stormwall had been responding to his own animosity at the 
  certainty that the Khadoran machines likely incorporated 
  elements of his own designs, stolen by spies. He tried to 
  put the thought aside. 
  Irusk turned to Nemo and said, “General Nemo, behold 
  the Conquest. This was why we waited.” He was 
  positively smug. He then moved to greet the officers 
  among the new arrivals.
  While Irusk was congratulating the young and unfamiliar 
  warcaster who had apparently been responsible for 
  delivering the machines, a powerfully built Rhulic warcaster 
  approached, an unlit pipe in one hand. Nemo recognized 
  General Ossrum of Clan Dhurg, a veteran campaigner and 
  perhaps the only one among the gathering who might be 
  older than himself. “General Ossrum,” Nemo said and 
  offered his hand. “I was not aware you were joining us.”
  “General Nemo.” Ossrum shook his hand as he squinted 
  and took in the scope of the assembled armies. “My 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part tWo
  
  147
  contract is completed.” As he filled and lit his pipe he 
  continued, “Looks as though something serious is afoot.” 
  Nemo could not help but chuckle. “That’s one way of putting 
  it. We intend to drive Cryx from the forest for good.” The 
  Rhulic warcaster raised his eyebrows, and Nemo could see 
  his interest was piqued. Irusk stepped back toward them 
  staring at Ossrum thoughtfully, perhaps considering what 
  the junior warcaster had told him.
  “Well, Kommandant,” Ossrum said to Irusk in passable 
  Khadoran, “thanks for your business. Can’t say it’s been a 
  pleasure.” Nemo had been expecting the general to make a 
  sales pitch, knowing the mercenaries of Clan Dhurg were 
  always interested in earning more coin. He felt perhaps 
  there was a touch of theatrics as the dwarf turned away, 
  giving a sharp whistle and making a circling motion with 
  one hand to signal the Rhulic soldiers it was time to leave.
  “General Ossrum,” Irusk said. Ossrum turned as if 
  surprised, and Nemo suppressed a knowing smirk. “Can I 
  persuade you to join us in the fight ahead? A heavy purse 
  would make the long hike north less painful, yes?”
  Ossrum frowned and sucked on the stem of his pipe as if 
  this were a novel thought. “Lost a lot of ’jacks getting here. I 
  was planning to resupply and pick up replacement soldiers 
  at Hammerfall before taking on more work. We’re also low 
  on ammo and fuel.”
  Having gone through a similar routine with Gorten 
  Grundback after the Llaelese War, Nemo knew this could 
  go on for hours if left to its natural course. “Ossrum,” he 
  said firmly. “We are on a tight schedule. The Khadorans will 
  pay eighty percent of your usual fee,” he held up a hand as 
  Ossrum’s face reddened and he opened his mouth to retort, 
  “and the Cygnaran treasury will pay an additional seventy 
  percent. That will bring your payment to one and a half 
  times your usual. Is that acceptable? That includes access 
  to ammunition and coal.” Nemo caught Irusk’s eye and 
  saw the kommandant’s initial annoyance at the interjection 
  replaced with resignation. He nodded once.
  Ossrum’s eyes glittered and he smiled as he withdrew his 
  pipe to say, “Let’s put it in writing.”
  Although nowhere near as impressive as what was below, 
  the surface above the Thornwood Central Necrofactorium 
  included several low structures with fortified access points 
  and numerous slender smokestacks rising up to vent 
  noxious fumes. These facilities were simply the upper 
  portion of a buried structure of far greater complexity, one 
  that Asphyxious was already preparing to reveal when the 
  need arose. Machinery was in place to push aside the thin 
  layer of surface earth and elevate the central structure. 
  Initially it had been planned this would not be necessary for 
  years, if not decades. With the approach of the allied armies, 
  though, Deneghra knew they would likely trigger the 
  mechanisms soon. 
  There were defensive advantages to both states. As it was, 
  the necrofactorium was extremely difficult to find amid 
  the forest despite the smokestacks. The central facility was 
  surrounded by a chain of steep hills that created a small 
  forested valley with only two choke points allowing access. 
  Any incidental traffic through the region would be inclined 
  to veer away, along the edges of the outer hills. Thralls 
  under Deneghra’s supervision had augmented these natural 
  barriers in many ways and had created emplacements for 
  numerous bloat thralls as well as concealed firing positions 
  for pistol wraiths. On the other hand, the hidden structure 
  contained a number of soul-empowered necromantic 
  weapons that could be employed only once the building 
  was fully elevated from the depths. Deneghra was certain 
  they would need those defenses to repel an army the size of 
  the one that approached. 
  Deneghra gathered her force near one of the entrance 
  points into the valley, and the Witch Coven of Garlghast 
  occupied the other. Nightmare stood beside her, claws 
  clenching in anticipation of imminent battle, while an 
  array of helljacks and bonejacks stood scattered among 
  the undead filling the field ahead, all ready to answer her 
  call. She stood on a slightly elevated position back from 
  the valley entrance. That particular ingress was choked 
  with thorn-covered bushes and withered trees intended 
  to hinder both movement and visibility for any intruding 
  forces. Even without being able to see them directly, 
  Deneghra could hear the rumble of the allied armies as 
  they made their advance. 
  That the enemy had pinpointed their location so quickly 
  disturbed her. She had not anticipated their arrival for 
  weeks and had expected she would need to guide them 
  to their destruction. Most likely, they had some means to 
  detect the powerful necromantic energies concentrated 
  here. Ultimately it did not matter how they had found the 
  valley; there was no way to avoid a confrontation now. 
  Deneghra just wished she was as confident of their defenses 
  as Asphyxious seemed.
  "We intend to drive CrYx  
  from the forest for Good."  
  the rhuliC WarCaster raised 
  his eYebroWs, and nemo Could  
  see his interest Was Piqued.
  
  148
  Man-O-War bombardiers were the first to march to their 
  deaths through the narrow valley, wielding their buzzing 
  chain blades to carve through the dense underbrush and 
  clear the way for the rows of assault kommandos behind 
  them. Mechanithralls and brute thralls descended upon 
  them, heedless of losses, and overwhelmed the first lines. 
  There followed the sound of bloat thralls firing their 
  caustic fluids outward against other advancing forces 
  still pushing through. The enemy ranks were thrown into 
  slight disarray by the sudden onset of battle, but they soon 
  recovered, and heavy Khadoran warjacks strode forward 
  to clear the nearest thralls. 
  The sound of rifle fire began and quickly intensified as 
  soldiers she could not yet see fired on the nearest exposed 
  Cryxians. Pushing through the forward Khadorans came 
  soldiers in the blue armor of Cygnar and with them the 
  sounds of lightning and thunder. Projectiles from distant 
  artillery began to soar over the surrounding hills and 
  explode among the withered trees, splintering or toppling 
  them entirely. They were firing blind, and Deneghra knew 
  her bloat thralls likely had a better vantage from their 
  positions along the ridged hillside, where they launched 
  caustic death into the forces beyond. She could identify the 
  distinct sounds of detonations as several as the bloat thralls 
  were found and eliminated. Beyond this, sounds of similar 
  escalating battle reached her from the opposite end of the 
  valley, where the Witch Coven was positioned. Deneghra 
  could hear the familiar howls of the Deathjack as it joined 
  the carnage with bestial enthusiasm.
  Having thought the enemy would try some simple probing 
  strikes before committing in full, Deneghra summoned a 
  pistol wraith to relay a message to Asphyxious. “They are 
  massed in greater strength than anticipated,” she conveyed. 
  “Tell him to send reinforcements immediately, and to raise 
  the central tower!”
  Assault kommandos in alchemically treated armor 
  pressed forward into the valley firing their carbines, 
  heedless of the bile that ate through other soldiers. Some 
  wielded flamethrowers and wore heavy masks and tanks 
  to spray long plumes of blazing liquid out among the 
  incoming thralls and bonejacks. The forward companies of 
  kommandos penetrated the valley, but Deneghra waited for 
  the narrow gap to fill with storm knights before she gave the 
  mental signal to her machine wraiths atop the sides of the 
  defile. There were low thumps as large reservoir tanks of 
  bile fluid were burst by the wraiths on either side, sending 
  a tide of caustic fluid flooding the channel. The screams 
  of the dying sang in her ears as the knights realized the 
  uselessness of their armor amid a torrent of acidic fluid. As 
  the enemy reacted, the wraiths descended to seize control of 
  the nearest warjacks and turn them against their own forces.
  Additional warjacks pushed forward to clear both sides 
  of the ravine, followed by squads of infantry. The battle 
  became chaotic as Deneghra used her will to direct groups 
  of undead into the fray, relying heavily on the large numbers 
  of mechanithralls and bile thralls at her disposal. Numerous 
  necrosurgeons were scattered among them—as storm 
  knights and trenchers who charged into the melee were 
  smashed down by steam-powered fists, their bodies were 
  pulled aside to be transformed into ready reinforcements. 
  Similarly, necrotechs waited nearby to seize parts from 
  downed warjacks along with various body parts to create 
  explosive scrap thralls and send them forth. 
  Khadoran Juggernauts, Marauders, Devastators, and 
  Kodiaks crashed into her undead troops to tear great ragged 
  holes in them and make room for the advancing allies. 
  Devastators opened their shells to unleash tremendous 
  explosions, momentarily clearing the immediate area, only 
  to have more thralls then surge against them. Cygnaran 
  Ironclads, Centurions, Hammersmiths, and Stormclads 
  crashed into the forested clearing before the necrofactorium, 
  seizing ground from the walking dead. Deneghra dispatched 
  her helljacks judiciously, but the sheer scope of the incoming 
  army began to grind down her sense of superiority. She was 
  not accustomed to feeling outnumbered. Not here.
  The incoming artillery bombardment arcing down from 
  beyond the ring of outer hills became fiercer as mortars 
  and cannons were pushed closer by their crews. Any 
  reinforcements Deneghra sent forward were quickly 
  chewed apart amid this conflagration or met by the fire 
  of Defenders, Grenadiers, Destroyers, and Demolishers. 
  She saw trenchers rushing forward with foolish courage 
  to die by the dozens, the hundreds. Nonetheless, by their 
  efforts they seized the upper hills on the far side of the 
  valley and began to situate chain guns and cannons. 
  They were soon joined by Winter Guard positioning their 
  mortars and field guns. 
  Deneghra had to fall back when teams of trencher and 
  Widowmaker snipers took the high ground and began to 
  fire on key targets of opportunity. With gun mages adding 
  their fire, they managed to seize the outer perimeter from 
  the pistol wraiths, bile thralls, and bloat thralls. This 
  paved the way for ranks upon ranks of long gunners and 
  Winter Guard riflemen to take up position and fire down 
  into the valley with devastating consequences. Man-
  O-War soldiers charged through the choke point, their 
  heavy boots sizzling in pools of acidic bile. Shocktroopers 
  at the fore advanced in shield wall formation to cover 
  the advance of additional heavy infantry, including 
  storm knights and Iron Fangs. Deneghra’s helljacks fired 
  on them continuously, taking a toll but not appreciably 
  slowing them. 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part tWo
  
  149
  One by one she sent forward Deathrippers and Defilers, 
  igniting her power through their arc nodes to summon 
  destruction amid the enemy. She inflicted the curse of 
  shadows on the front line of Man-O-War as the first wave of 
  her bane thralls charged through, allowing them to penetrate 
  deeper into the heavy infantry ranks and sow death with 
  their massive axes. Bane knights and soul hunters swept up 
  the hillside to slaughter long gunners left exposed and were 
  set upon in turn by Stormguard from the rear ranks. 
  The battle hovered indecisively as long minutes passed 
  amid the chaotic maelstrom. The sky flickered with 
  lightning from dark clouds, and heavy rain began to fall. 
  Cygnaran manipulation of the weather soon produced a 
  heavy downpour amid frequent lightning strikes, joining 
  the crackling of electricity along the ground from storm 
  chamber blasts and arcs. The slick ground made footing 
  treacherous and became worse as mud mixed with blood, 
  corpses, and tides of bile. In this environment her Leviathans 
  and Harrowers served her well, sweeping in where they 
  could to reap the living with claw and perisher. 
  Through the haze Deneghra sought to locate enemy 
  warcasters, intending to isolate them one by one for quick 
  and decisive strikes. It was the only way she could see to 
  stop the enemy momentum.
  Lich Lord Terminus pressed on through the forest with his 
  new army behind him. The expedition into eastern Llael 
  had not proceeded as planned, but his goals there had 
  been achieved. The armed might of the mortals in that 
  despoiled and half-ruined land were scattered and made 
  ineffectual from their fear of Cryx. They could focus only 
  on what was immediately before them, a predictable 
  outcome when their homes were threatened.
  Yet his anger was aroused at how other elements of their 
  plan had begun to unravel. The vulnerability of Lord 
  Venethrax’s position was unacceptable—and a matter 
  he intended to rectify personally. He was focused on 
  reaching that much-diminished column when Lord 
  
  150
  Malathrax emerged from the shadows in front of him. 
  The movement of wraiths among the shadowy trees 
  behind him suggested some nominal escort.
  “Lord Terminus,” Malathrax said respectfully, his masked face 
  transforming to a leering beast. “I am pleased to find you.”
  Towering over the other lich lord, Terminus stared down 
  with barely restrained malevolence. “Malathrax. You 
  should be with Lord Venethrax.”
  “I have just come from him, but as you know my skills are 
  better suited to disseminating information than seeking 
  battle. Venethrax sent me to you after I received certain 
  critical facts. Time is of the essence.”
  Terminus was generally willing to indulge the spymaster, 
  who had often been useful to him, having provided 
  key intelligence during the intricate feints and landing 
  operations the mainlanders referred to as the Scharde 
  Invasions. “Then speak.”
  “I know you are eager to reach Lord Venethrax’s side, 
  and reinforcements are much needed there. That said, our 
  priorities must be carefully weighed. Venethrax’s column 
  is at risk, but he is well equipped to deal with lesser 
  threats. Whereas I have word of a singular opportunity to 
  simultaneously strengthen our position while diminishing 
  a rival of yours who has stood as a persistent obstacle in 
  our endeavors.” Malathrax’s silver-plated face took on a 
  cherubic guise.
  Terminus’ glowing eyes simmered. “Cut to the quick 
  of this.”
  “Asphyxious has proven reluctant to support Venethrax, 
  and I wonder if he had a hand in the disaster that nearly 
  buried our column. Even your fresh army comes not from 
  him but from one of his minions who begins to realize the 
  scope of her master’s selfish megalomania.”
  Terminus’ head tilted slightly. “What do you know of this?”
  Malathrax 
  spread 
  his 
  hands 
  and 
  said, 
  “Never 
  underestimate the scope of what I know, Lord Terminus. 
  It is time Asphyxious paid for his hubris. Let us go to his 
  necrofactorium and take that which he withholds. He will 
  shortly be beset by Cygnar and Khador.”
  Terminus made a growling noise in his throat. “I left the 
  Witch Coven with him to defend our production in the 
  Thornwood. That war industry is vital.”
  “I do not suggest we allow the necrofactoriums to fall. But let 
  us demonstrate our displeasure by removing the struts upon 
  which his safety relies. I believe Deneghra is ready to turn 
  from him, and I am certain Mortenebra can be convinced. You 
  can pull back the Coven. We can sweep aside Asphyxious’ 
  ambitions and set in his place someone better suited. All this 
  we can accomplish, preserving the necrofactorium itself, and 
  take all the troops we require. It is a chance we should not 
  squander, worth taking a small diversion.”
  Peering down at the creature whose masked face shifted 
  through several of its guises in quick sequence, Terminus 
  pondered. “I will admit,” he said at last, “the scenario has an 
  undeniable appeal. But our first priority must be the athanc 
  held by Venethrax. Until I personally assure it is safely in 
  our grasp, a reckoning with Asphyxious must wait.”
  Despite the carnage, Khadorans and Cygnarans poured into 
  the valley. Their swift occupation of the high ground on the 
  outer hills had undermined Deneghra’s plans. The gun 
  mages 
  and 
  snipers 
  prioritized 
  necrosurgeons 
  and 
  necrotechs, and many of those near the front were gunned 
  down. She had to hastily commit the second wave of bile 
  thralls, sending as many as she could behind the forward 
  advance of bane and bile thralls among the hills. A wraith 
  engine howled in a battle frenzy and closed behind them, 
  reaching out with scything claws to sweep through long 
  gunners and feast on their souls. Two Storm Striders 
  managed to climb the outer incline of the hills and unleashed 
  powerful bolts of voltaic energy into the machine, prompting 
  it to turn on them with a piercing shriek.
  Standing in the rain and wind, Deneghra felt the battle could 
  easily swing either way. The faces of the enemy showed their 
  horror and weakening morale as the enthusiasm of the first 
  charge faded and the body count rose. The nearest heavy 
  ’jacks had torn many of the thralls to pieces but then had 
  become mired amid the undead, vulnerable to the Slayers, 
  Corruptors, and Seethers. 
  Then the colossals reached the valley, and everything changed. 
  One of the Cygnaran and two of the Khadoran colossals 
  charged forward, augmented by the powers of their 
  masters. With them came a veritable tide of fresh warjacks, 
  Man-O-War soldiers, and knights. She recognized the marks 
  of Cygnar’s Storm Division together with Khador’s 4th 
  Assault Legion. The Stormwall arrived amid the booming 
  of cannons and the whirring of chain guns. Directing it from 
  atop his steed was Captain Jeremiah Kraye, who was taking 
  shots while also controlling many of the other Cygnaran 
  warjacks that ran forward, firing their own weapons with 
  unnatural accuracy.
  The 
  two 
  Conquests 
  were 
  controlled 
  by 
  Supreme 
  Kommandant Irusk, and their cannons gave forth deep, 
  bellowing reports as the machines waded into the fray. 
  The enormous constructs dwarfed even otherwise massive 
  heavy ’jacks. Several of her bonejacks got too near as she 
  attempted to invoke a curse on the closest Conquest, and it 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part tWo
  
  151
  swept its fists in a wide arc to scatter thralls and ’jacks. The 
  Stormwall stepped up to a Slayer and backhanded it to send 
  it flying into the nearest Reaper, toppling both, while its 
  other lightning-wreathed fist crushed a Seether into scrap.
  Desperate to stall their advance, Deneghra decided Kraye 
  must die; then the Stormwall would stall and she could 
  deal with Irusk. This thought reached Nightmare, and its 
  bloodthirsty cortex assented with a certain frenzied mania. 
  They both went incorporeal even as she sent the bulk of her 
  heavy warjacks against the colossals. She transformed the 
  nearest Man-O-War shocktroopers to shadow, and she and 
  her favored Slayer swept through them like a cold wind. 
  At her urging bane thralls converged from behind her to 
  engage the troopers while she focused on Jeremiah Kraye. 
  A badly damaged but still functional Deathripper crawled 
  near enough for her to invoke acidic venom through its arc 
  node to wash over the intervening stormblades, sending 
  them screaming to their deaths.
  Kraye reared back on his horse and fired his carbine twice in 
  quick succession, finishing the Deathripper in an explosion 
  of its skulled head. A Sentinel protecting Kraye turned 
  toward her as she neared and fired a spray of bullets that 
  passed through her spectral form. She became substantial 
  as she thrust Eclipse to score a deep gash along the surface 
  of its assault shield. This was superficial damage, but her 
  weapon’s power swallowed the warjack in darkness, then 
  the ’jack reappeared from shadows behind Kraye facing 
  away from Deneghra. Both Kraye and his Stormwall turned 
  toward her, startled by her sudden appearance. 
  The mounted warcaster let his carbine fall by its strap to his 
  side and drew his cavalry saber as he spurred his horse. She 
  heard and sensed the Stormwall turn toward her as well, 
  and she gathered her will and let loose a powerful wave 
  of clinging darkness to stop both. The steam engines of the 
  Stormwall strained as it sought to overcome the supernatural 
  gloom holding it in place. Deneghra had cleared the way 
  between Nightmare and Kraye. The ’jack suffered several 
  close-range Charger cannon hits before it reached him, but 
  then with a single great slash of its metallic claws it scraped 
  him from the saddle and sent him flying, trailing blood, into 
  the mud twenty feet from his horse. The steed’s eyes rolled 
  in fear, and it bolted. Kraye pushed himself up with one 
  arm as blood dripped from multiple lacerations through the 
  breastplate of his warcaster armor. If not for his power field, 
  he would have already been dead.
  Nightmare gave a bestial shriek and crouched before leaping 
  to finish him. The ground shook as something massive 
  approached. Deneghra felt and heard multiple booming 
  cannons. Instinctively she jumped back and away as the 
  ground around her erupted with explosive blasts. Shrapnel 
  tore through her side. One of the Conquests, sent forward 
  with unnatural speed, intercepted Nightmare and towered 
  above it. Each of its fists was as large as a heavy ’jack, and 
  it brought one of them smashing down onto Nightmare, 
  which crumpled with the sounds of metal snapping and 
  shattering. When it struck again Deneghra felt a jarring 
  disconnection and looked with disbelief through the rain at 
  the heaped wreckage of her favored helljack. 
  Both the Stormwall and the second Conquest fired in her 
  direction, even as an oversized shell smashed into the 
  ground behind her and sprang open to reveal voltaic coils. 
  She went insubstantial an instant too slowly to avoid the 
  lightning that tore painful rents through her dead flesh, but 
  then multiple shells passed through her as the world became 
  noise and torn earth from multiple blasts. She scrambled to 
  the side and back, summoning her undead. 
  Looking over her shoulder she saw Irusk striding through 
  the mud toward her. He extended his hand and the air filled 
  with the sound of incoming shrieks as arcane projectiles 
  burst upon her position, tearing gashes in her body 
  despite her ghostly state. She mentally sent her remaining 
  Leviathans to intercept him but did not linger to watch. 
  That the Stormwall kept fighting told her that her gambit 
  had failed and Kraye had survived; otherwise its cortex 
  would have been overloaded by backlash. 
  Severely wounded but feeling none of the pain a living 
  person would have, Deneghra managed to get behind a 
  wave of thralls she had directed into the hail of bullets and 
  shells sent her way. Through the eyes of a battered Defiler 
  closer to the breach she saw more allied forces entering the 
  valley, including Lord Commander Stryker as well as a 
  female warcaster in Morrowan armor. 
  Another woman was with them, and for a moment Deneghra 
  did not recognize her twin, Victoria Haley. She felt a strange 
  vertigo looking at her; something was wrong. It wasn’t her 
  posture, although Victoria looked tired and fragile as she 
  leaned on her spear. Rather, it was the missing sense of 
  mental connection and spark she felt when her twin was 
  near. It was as if Haley was hollow, an imitation. Though 
  she had often sought her sister’s death, this unnerved 
  her far more than her failed attack on Kraye. Stryker’s 
  augmented Ironclad stepped on the Defiler whose eyes she 
  had borrowed, and she lost track of her twin.
  for a moment deneGhra 
  did not reCoGnize her tWin, 
  viCtoria haleY. she felt a 
  stranGe vertiGo lookinG at 
  her; somethinG Was WronG.
  
  152
  She continued to run toward the necrofactorium, her mind 
  divided as she sent her remaining ’jacks and thralls into the 
  battle as she tried to knit her damaged flesh together. Her 
  defense of the valley had largely collapsed, and she was 
  confused at the lack of reinforcements from the complex. 
  Similarly, the machinery of the central tower had yet to be 
  activated to expose its soul-driven weaponry and the larger 
  doors for the reserve arsenal. Had Asphyxious ignored her? 
  In an instant she felt a pang of grief and despair: he had left 
  her to her death.
  As she approached the nearest surface entrance, she 
  was startled to see the distinct silhouette of Asphyxious 
  walking toward her, his new weapon Daimonion in 
  hand. Vociferon was behind him, carrying his staff 
  of soul cages. Strangely, she felt relieved to know 
  Asphyxious had come to finish her personally. She sank 
  to her knees and awaited the killing blow. Instead he 
  said, “Rise, Deneghra, thou hast done superbly. The 
  enemy is positioned as I wished. Thank you for putting 
  yourself in peril for my glory.”
  She looked at him stunned, then shakily got back to 
  her feet. He placed a clawed hand on her shoulder, and 
  necromantic power flowed into her to repair her remaining 
  injuries. Profoundly confused, she said, “I sent for 
  reinforcements . . .”
  “Yes, and we shall unleash them momentarily. I wanted to 
  ensure as many of the enemy as possible were in position 
  before activating the final sequence. A risk, as they are 
  closing from both sides, but necessary. I could not reveal 
  myself too soon.”
  “Why not tell me?” she said indignantly.
  “I am sorry, my dearest companion.” To her ears, his voice 
  conveyed genuine regret, although no other ear would have 
  detected it. “I was forced to leave thee in darkness because 
  I knew agents of Malathrax watched. It serves my purposes 
  that both he and Terminus believe a divide exists now 
  between us and that thou hast defied me. By this measure 
  the others will seek to recruit thee into their confidences, to 
  pit thee against me. For this to come to pass thy reactions 
  had to be unfeigned. I expect in the days ahead he will come 
  to thee, and make such overtures, and thou shall slowly see 
  the worth in their offer. We shall speak of this again, but first 
  there is a battle to be won.”
  “I understand,” she said. Still reeling from this reversal of 
  fortunes, Deneghra quickly collected her wits and looked 
  behind her to where the last of their outer force was being 
  torn to pieces by the allied armies. “We must raise the 
  central tower!”
  Asphyxious looked beyond her as if the onrushing army 
  was only of trivial interest and said, “Yes, it is time.” He 
  raised his clawed hands, his sword in one, the other open, 
  as green light poured from within his ribcage and spectral 
  phantoms rose to spiral around him. 
  There was a deep rumbling from underfoot as the machinery 
  of the necrofactorium activated, and a tremendous cloud of 
  noxious vapors poured from dozens of slender smokestacks 
  concentrated at the center of the dank and muddy valley. 
  The central tower through which they had climbed 
  from below and the earth surrounding it trembled as the 
  structure rose through the soil, toppling the nearest trees. 
  Numerous smaller black stone minarets clawed their way 
  from below, like the talons of some tremendous beast that 
  was awakening. Bronzed metal spires atop these gleamed 
  with a greenish hue as the air filled with a deep, oscillating 
  thrum that began to ascend in pitch.
  The first wide, flat surfaces to break free from the earth were 
  dual circular platforms, one to either side of the central 
  tower. On the upper surface of each of these were three 
  large metal apertures, which opened with a hissing of foul 
  vapors even as the platform continued to rise. From within 
  the noxious mist emerged the Krakens, which tremendous 
  lifts had raised out of the innards of the building.
  Asphyxious spoke again. “I did not know whom 
  Mortenebra ultimately served and so could not trust her 
  with these machines. These first Krakens have modified 
  cortexes that will respond only to thy will and mine.” He 
  waved toward those nearest her. “Those three I grant thee.” 
  Without another word he strode in the direction of the other 
  platform with its trio of colossals. Deneghra felt a surge 
  of relief to know the machines actually worked and was 
  profoundly touched at this proof of his trust. She knew she 
  must prepare them at once.
  The nearest Conquests had smashed through the last 
  of the helljacks sent against them and were advancing, 
  cannons firing. The explosions sprayed debris as 
  Deneghra rushed to climb atop the slowly rising platform. 
  The central area where a widening cylinder had become a 
  tower was rising quickly, and from its horned peak came 
  surges of green energy that lashed outward to strike the 
  approaching enemies. 
  Deneghra’s power field saved her from the wake of a 
  Conquest’s main guns as she slipped between the three 
  mighty Krakens and extended her will to touch their cortexes. 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part tWo
  sCreaminG the maddened 
  hoWls of the damned, the 
  souls Were forCed to Channel 
  their PoWer throuGh the 
  toWer’s maChinerY. 
  
  153
  Almost at once she felt their minds, powerful and different 
  from those she had felt before but immediately responsive. 
  The machines unfolded their harvesting claws as two leapt 
  down from the platform, each firing a great hellblaster 
  cannon that extended from its upper chassis like a great 
  horn. Smaller flayer cannons spat death at the nearest foes, 
  which included a stalwart group of storm knights that had 
  rushed forward through the muck to confront Deneghra. 
  As several fell, the others stumbled back and away, clearly 
  terrified of the great machines. Harvester tentacles quickly 
  seized them and hauled them, screaming, to where they 
  were shoved into iris apertures on each Kraken’s central 
  torso. Those captured men would be imprisoned until their 
  deaths could be exploited to empower the Krakens with the 
  energies of their dying flesh and departing souls.
  As she prepared to send forth the third Kraken, she heard 
  several of the nearest smokestacks on the tower begin to 
  topple, having been directly hit by fire from a Conquest. 
  Two of the large pipes crashed into the gear works of an 
  exposed mechanism that had just extended above the 
  surface, part of the machinery necessary to lift the weapon 
  spires of the inner tower to proper elevation. Knowing the 
  tremendous force leveraged through them by the engines 
  down below, Deneghra foresaw imminent disaster should 
  those gears shatter or seize; the upper platform might even 
  be sent plunging back into the depths. She urged the third 
  Kraken to lash out with its tentacles, breaking loose the 
  columns and clearing the gears of debris. 
  Turning back to the fray, she saw Irusk had directed one of 
  the Conquests to fire on the necrofactorium tower. It took a 
  step back to reposition as the Krakens leapt to meet it, but 
  they were faster. Deneghra sent one of her last remaining 
  Defilers closer to the machine and arced a curse through 
  it upon the Khadoran colossal, weakening its armor just 
  as the trio of Krakens drove forward to tear it apart with 
  tentacles empowered by the bodies they had gathered. The 
  Conquest staggered as one of its arms was torn loose. Its 
  left leg crumpled beneath another blow and it fell with a 
  deafening crash, crushing both men and machines. The 
  other Conquest and Stormwall were closing, but both their 
  hulls bore damage, while her machines were pristine and 
  empowered with fresh kills.
  The escalating thrumming sound reached a crescendo as the 
  tower achieved its full height. Green hellfire lashed from 
  the metal-tipped spires, igniting the living, while a flood 
  of souls from the harvest at Point Bourne was disgorged 
  from countless soul cages at the heart of the necrofactorium. 
  Screaming the maddened howls of the damned, the souls 
  were forced to channel their power through the tower’s 
  machinery. Some few tormented spirits broke free to rise 
  wraithlike into the rainstorm already flooding the valley. 
  Others were seized by the complex mechanism and sent 
  along rows of the empowered spires to reach Asphyxious, 
  Deneghra, the Witch Coven, and now Mortenebra. The 
  master necrotech had just emerged from the newly revealed 
  portal at the base of the central tower with a half-dozen iron 
  lich overseers. A steady tide of fresh helljacks poured from 
  that opening even as she strode forth to join the battle. 
  A dozen autonomous bonejacks raced toward Deneghra, 
  and as they neared she seized control of their cortexes and 
  then sent them scurrying to arc death upon her foes. The 
  continuous surge of power from the influx of hundreds 
  of souls combined with the exhilaration at directing three 
  colossals. The sense of godlike power was only magnified 
  when the landscape erupted around them and transformed 
  into a vision of hell. 
  Darius had suffered badly in his clash with the Witch Coven 
  of Garlghast and had at first been pushed back, but then the 
  battle turned. Artificer General Nemo sent his Stormwall 
  forward, directing it to fire its chain guns and main cannons 
  into the minions of the Witch Coven, eventually forcing the 
  retreat of the trio and their otherworldly floating sphere. At 
  the fringes of his mental reach Thorn ran, using its 
  tremendous maneuverability to position itself so Nemo 
  could arc lightning where it was most needed. 
  Forward Kommander Kratikoff, Kommander Strakhov, 
  and Captain Darius directed their own battlegroups to 
  either side, spreading out to obliterate the thinning sea 
  of thralls and helljacks. The multitude of warjacks and 
  soldiers cleared the way toward the central entrance to the 
  underground Cryxian lair. Supreme Kommandant Irusk 
  had insisted his Greylords knew this to be the source of 
  the incursion that had ravaged Point Bourne, and his entire 
  army was eager for a reckoning. For once, the two armies 
  were entirely united in purpose.
  Stryker and Irusk had agreed to lead the attack on the 
  main pass into this forested valley while Nemo and 
  Sorscha, supported by the Rhulic mercenaries, led a smaller 
  contingent into the other. They had taken the high ground 
  along the perimeter and fired down onto the fray with 
  their carbines and battle cannons. This combined with 
  the seemingly imperishable Conquest and Stormwall had 
  driven back the Cryxian horde.
  Thunder and lightning created a constant din as Stormwall 
  storm pods were launched and utilized by stormsmiths who 
  found no lack of targets. Nemo's Storm Striders similarly 
  had an ample field of fire, and he delighted in summoning 
  his own lightning from the clouds to strike at bonejacks, 
  necrotechs, and brute thralls. There had never been a battle 
  better suited to his weaponry. The perimeter was established 
  
  154
  and numerous storm towers were rushed forward to guard 
  their flanks, while trenchers labored to situate chain guns 
  and cannons atop the upper hills.
  Amid this display of Cygnaran firepower the earth began 
  to shake, a fact at first lost amid the heavy tread of the 
  colossals and the escalating storm. Through the haze and 
  mist of the valley Nemo saw a looming tower flickering 
  with green energy rising ahead of them. It seemed as 
  though he was seeing the Temple Garrodh reborn, which 
  chilled him to his marrow.
  Necromantic energy surged from one metal spire to another, 
  then lashed into the approaching allied army. Where these 
  tendrils struck, men screamed and died. Even as their flesh 
  fell from their bodies, they grinned lipless smiles as they 
  turned their weapons on former comrades. Nemo’s shouted 
  orders were lost in the howling wind and rumbling, and 
  then the ground dropped and broke open all around him.
  Great gaping chasms appeared, and he realized deep 
  tunnels riddling the ground around the central fortress 
  were collapsing, strategically. The earth swallowed rank 
  after rank of Iron Fang pikemen, Winter Guard, trenchers, 
  and storm knights. One of his Avengers plunged below and 
  then was set upon, its vision dimming as thralls hammered 
  its chassis. Additional horrors clambered from these gaping 
  trenches: mechanithralls, bile thralls, and bane thralls, 
  but also the mindless drudges of the cephalyx. Enormous 
  gouts of bile exploded amid the Cygnarans and Khadorans, 
  transforming already uncertain ground into a sea of mud, 
  gore, and bubbling acid. 
  Green hellfire blazed from the fortress towers and set afire 
  the branches of the valley’s remaining trees. Sickly radiance 
  danced across their upper limbs, and their puckered bark 
  showed tormented faces as shrieking spectral forms soared 
  through them. Some of these manifested as machine 
  wraiths that plunged into the nearest warjacks to seize 
  control of them. Both the living and the inanimate turned 
  on their own, and the landscape became a hellscape of 
  carnage and confusion. 
  Haley had no time for thought as the shaking earth settled 
  to reveal fresh thralls and drudges climbing up throughout 
  the army. The barrels of her Cyclone’s chain guns glowed 
  orange from the heat of ceaseless firing and sent steam 
  rising in the rain. Her Firefly was badly damaged, but she 
  managed to send it to take out several thralls closing on a 
  group of trenchers that were falling back and firing. Her 
  right flank was held by Constance Blaize with her warjacks 
  and Precursors, who were standing stalwart against the 
  fresh assault but suffering casualties. 
  There was a tremendous crash as the rampaging Krakens 
  toppled one of the Conquests, and Haley strode closer, 
  adrenaline momentarily making her forget her weakened 
  condition. As she urged her Hunter to fire on the nearest 
  one, she saw Deneghra amid the Cryxian colossals, 
  presumably directing them. 
  From between the Stormwall and the other Conquest 
  charged the glowing form of Lord Commander Stryker, 
  the coils on his back thrumming. He held Quicksilver 
  raised above his head as he and his warjack Ol’ Rowdy 
  rushed the nearest Kraken. His sword was a shining streak 
  as it cut through one of the clawed tentacles, its blade also 
  shearing through the nearest armor-plated leg. Ol’ Rowdy 
  pounded the Kraken from the other side with its quake 
  hammer. The colossal staggered, then leaned as Stryker 
  leapt up to sweep his sword into its innards with a spray of 
  sparks and twisted metal. The Kraken began to topple and 
  Stryker had to dive out of the way. Ol’ Rowdy interposed 
  itself to deflect the crippled machine, whose bulk pressed 
  the warjack into the mud, partially pinning it. 
  One of the Krakens tore through the crippled Stormwall 
  and was beset by the last Conquest, but another closed 
  on Stryker. Haley gasped as she saw its tentacle lash 
  out, barely missing him. Ol’ Rowdy was still struggling, 
  trying to pry a bent leg from under the bulk of the downed 
  Kraken. Without thinking Haley extended her hand and 
  gathered her power, trying to reach into the foreign cortex 
  of the Kraken to halt its attack as its other tentacle reared 
  back like an angry serpent. Searing pain and white light 
  erupted in her head as though a firebrand had struck 
  her, and her heart beat erratically as pain shot through 
  her chest and legs. She fell to her knees as she fought for 
  breath, her vision swimming. 
  The incoming Kraken tentacle smashed into Stryker, 
  shattering through his power field and knocking him 
  backward into the mud, crumpling his warcaster armor. It 
  groped for him again with its claws. Clutching her head in 
  pain, Haley could do nothing. 
  Gallant intervened, blocking the Kraken’s tentacle with 
  its buckler, but was driven back as its shield and arm 
  shattered beneath the colossal’s strength. Blaize reached 
  Stryker and pulled him to his feet and away even as her 
  knights charged the Kraken to hammer it with their maces. 
  In a single great sweep it crashed a tentacle through them 
  to send broken bodies flying. Haley sent her Cyclone to 
  charge forward and beat on it with its fists, but soon that 
  ’jack also joined the wreckage scattered across the mud. 
  She got unsteadily to her feet as Blaize and Stryker limped 
  toward her. There was blood on Stryker’s face and he 
  looked dazed. Behind him the Cryxian tower surged with 
  unholy power, and Deneghra’s body was limned with 
  in the darkest PlaCe: Part tWo
  
  155
  green fire. Haley had never felt so hopeless. When she 
  locked eyes with her twin, she was startled to see pity in 
  the wraith witch’s expression.
  Through the eyes of his Stormwall, Nemo saw the Cryxian 
  colossals for the first time. Three moved from the roof of 
  the nearest section of the fortress, the unmistakable 
  silhouette of Asphyxious amid them. Nemo had fought in 
  the Scharde Invasions, and he had stood atop the Temple 
  Garrodh facing this same pernicious enemy, but he could 
  not remember ever feeling greater dread. Asphyxious 
  blazed with green energy, and his gleaming eye filled with 
  hatred, glee, and malice as his power flowed into his 
  rampaging machines. Nemo’s Stormwall fired every gun 
  at its disposal. Chain guns whirred and main guns fired, 
  tearing several holes in the chassis of the nearest Kraken, 
  but on it came. 
  Its appendages lashed out to scoop up sword knights and 
  trenchers, its cannon firing necrotite-laden shells. Another 
  Kraken crashed directly into the Stormwall and tore into 
  it with metal-clawed tentacles dripping caustic liquid 
  manifested by Asphyxious’ necromancy. The Stormwall’s 
  left arm soon hung useless at its side, but blue runes 
  surrounded Nemo as he imbued the machine with his own 
  magic, letting it serve in place of damaged machinery. The 
  colossal’s blazing fists smashed into the bulbous surface 
  of the Kraken. The Thunderhead joined in the attack, and 
  together they battered the Cryxian machine until it moved 
  no more. With its last lash, the Kraken crumpled one of the 
  Stormwall’s legs and knocked back the Thunderhead to 
  shatter several of its voltaic coils. 
  The other two Krakens closed and put a quick end to the 
  mighty Stormwall in a series of metal-buckling blows even 
  as Sorscha’s Conquest reached it. Despite the Khadoran 
  colossal’s might, Nemo knew it could not stand alone 
  against two of the Cryxian machines. Asphyxious seemed a 
  blazing green beacon of death as he charged into the midst 
  of several Stormblades and carved through them with his 
  sword. Bullets and cannon shells directed at him deflected 
  off his power field. Nemo recognized that he was infused by 
  souls, augmented by the skarlock that strode with him. He 
  had seen the lich lord similarly augmented at Garrodh and 
  knew the folly of their attack. 
  It seemed as if Nemo was surrounded by a city of the dead, 
  a tableau of green fire and shrieking wraiths. This was the 
  Thornwood, Cygnar’s northern forest? It was as if he had 
  been hurled into some living nightmare. With Caitlin Finch 
  following close behind and sending lightning at anything 
  that came close, Nemo reached Sorscha and yelled above 
  the clamor, “We must retreat!” 
  Her attention had been focused on the clashing colossals, 
  but then her cold eyes met his. Her jaw clenched in 
  stubborn resolve, but after a pause she nodded. Already 
  the Conquest staggered back, one arm shattered. Nemo 
  shouted out to what subordinates he could reach, even as 
  part of his mind still directed his warjacks in battle. He 
  could see that Darius’ position was overrun by helljacks 
  racing from the fortress. Ossrum and the stalwart Rhulfolk 
  held his flank, but not for long. 
  If they were not to join the fallen in a mass grave, he knew 
  they had to accept this bitter defeat. His eyes lingered 
  one last time on Asphyxious, who strode amid the green 
  flames and accepted each death around him as homage, a 
  king of the dead and reaper of destruction, as pure an evil 
  as Nemo had ever seen. That image seared into the core of 
  his being as he yelled the orders to quit the field.
  it seemed as if nemo Was 
  surrounded bY a CitY of the 
  dead, a tableau of Green fire 
  and shriekinG Wraiths.
  
  156
  unbound rules aPPendix
  General
  inCorPoreal advantaGe. 
  Replace the last line of Incorporeal with the following:
  When this model makes a melee or ranged attack, before the attack 
  roll is made it loses Incorporeal until its next activation.
   
  CYGnar
  major viCtoria haleY. 
  temPoral shift. 
  Replace the text of Temporal Shift with the following:
  Enemy models/units activating while in Haley’s control area forfeit 
  either their movement or their action during their activations, as 
  their controller chooses. At the start of your opponent’s turns, he 
  must declare which affected models/units he intends to activate 
  that turn. Those models activate first that turn in the order you 
  choose. Temporal Shift lasts for one round.
  Commander adePt nemo. 
  suPerCharGe. 
  Replace the text of Supercharge with the following:
  When this model allocates focus during your turn, it can allocate 
  up to 5 focus points to one warjack in its battlegroup that is in its 
  control area.
  ol’ roWdY.  
  Counter CharGe. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  PreCursor kniGhts.  
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of their next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
   
  ProteCtorate of 
  menoth
  Grand sCrutator severius. 
  divine miGht. 
  Replace the text of Divine Might with the following:
  Remove focus points from enemy models with the Focus 
  Manipulation ability that are currently in Severius’ control area. 
  Enemy models cannot cast spells and lose the Arc Node advantage 
  while in Severius’ control area. Divine Might lasts for one round.
  hierarCh severius.  
  fires of Communion. 
  Add the following line to the end of Fires of Communion:
  These models do not count toward the limit of four solos you can 
  activate this turn.
  thYra, flame of sorroW. 
  elite Cadre [dauGhters of 
  the flame]. 
  Change the last line of Elite Cadre [Daughters of the Flame] 
  to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance was destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in that unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  sanCtifier.  
  CenotaPh. 
  Replace the last line of Cenotaph with the following:
  At the start of the turn this model’s battlegroup activates, you can 
  remove all soul tokens from this model to allocate it focus points, 
  1 for each token removed.
  fire of salvation. 
  riGhteous venGeanCe. 
  Replace the text of Righteous Vengeance with the following:
  If one or more friendly Faction warrior models was destroyed or 
  removed from play by enemy attacks while within 5˝ of this model 
  during your opponent’s last turn, at the beginning of your next 
  turn this model can make a full advance followed by one normal 
  melee attack.
  temPle flameGuard. 
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  WraCk.  
  sufferinG’s PraYer. 
  Replace the second line of Suffering’s Prayer with the 
  following:
  At the end of your Control Phase, this model receives 1 focus point 
  if it does not have any.
  
  157
  khador
  suPreme kommandant 
  irusk.  
  taCtiCal suPremaCY. 
  Replace the text of Tactical Supremacy with the following:
  During a turn it activated, target friendly model/unit can advance 
  up to 3˝ after all models have ended their activations that turn.
  kommander orsus 
  zoktavir.  
  arCane dementia. 
  Replace the third line of Arcane Dementia with the 
  following:
  If he destroyed three or more enemy models with melee attacks 
  since the beginning of your last Maintenance Phase, do not roll to 
  determine his base FOCUS; it is automatically 7. 
  assault kommandos. 
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  iron fanG Pikemen.  
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  man-o-War shoCktrooPers.  
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  man-o-War drakhun. 
  Counter CharGe. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  War doG.  
  Counter CharGe. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  CrYx
  liCh lord asPhYxious. 
  sPeCtral leGion. 
  Add the following line to the end of Spectral Legion:
  These models do not count toward the limit of four solos you can 
  activate this turn.
  Pirate queen skarre. 
  ritual saCrifiCe. 
  Change the text of Ritual Sacrifice to the following:
  Remove target friendly warrior model from play. Skarre gains d6 
  additional focus points at the start of her next activation. Skarre 
  can gain the benefit of Ritual Sacrifice only once per round.
  derYliss.  
  arCane extension 
  [mortenebra]. 
  Replace the text of Arcane Extension with the following:
  At the start of a turn in which Mortenebra’s battlegroup activates, 
  if this model is in Mortenebra’s control area, Mortenebra can 
  allocate focus to warjacks in her battlegroup that are in this 
  model’s command range.
  voCiferon.  
  arCane extension 
  [asPhYxious, master of 
  the thornWood]. 
  Replace the text of Arcane Extension with the following:
  At the start of a turn in which Asphyxious, Master of the 
  Thornwood’s battlegroup activates, if this model is in Asphyxious’ 
  control area, Asphyxious can allocate focus to warjacks in his 
  battlegroup that are in this model’s command range.
  bane kniGhts.  
  venGeanCe. 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  maChine Wraith.  
  maChine meld. 
  Change the fifth line of Machine Meld to the following:
  You cannot activate the warjack this round.
   
  
  158
  unbound rules aPPendix
  retribution of 
  sCYrah
  hYdra.  
  Granted: foCus batterY. 
  Change the last line of Focus Battery to the following:
  Focus points remaining on this model count toward its focus 
  allocation limit.
  daWn Guard sentinel 
  offiCer & standard. 
  Granted: venGeanCe. 
  Change the last line of Granted: Vengeance to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  houseGuard halberdiers. 
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
   
  merCenaries
  CaPtain damiano.  
  death marCh. 
  Change the last line of Death March to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  hammerfall hiGh shield 
  Gun CorPs.  
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
   
  trollbloods
  jarl skuld, devil of the 
  thornWood.  
  taCtiCal suPremaCY. 
  Replace the text of Tactical Supremacy with the following:
  During a turn it activated, target friendly model/unit can advance 
  up to 3˝ after all models have ended their activations that turn.
  skaldi bonehammer. 
  Counter CharGe. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  trollkin fennblades. 
  venGeanCe. 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  trollkin fennblade 
  offiCer & drummer. 
  venGeanCe. 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
   
  CirCle orboros
  mohsar the 
  desertWalker. 
  disjunCtion. 
  Replace the text of Disjunction with the following:
  While in Mohsar’s control area this round, enemy models cannot 
  be used to channel spells. During your opponent’s next Control 
  Phase, his models cannot leach fury and cannot have fury leached 
  from them while in Mohsar’s control area.
  Gnarlhorn satYr. 
  Counter slam. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Slam with the following:
  This model can use Counter Slam only once per round.
  feral WarPWolf.  
  baYinG of Chaos. 
  Replace the second line of Baying of Chaos with the 
  following:
  A warbeast can be affected by Baying of Chaos only once per round.
   
  
  159
  skorne
  lord tYrant hexeris. 
  death marCh. 
  Change the last line of Death March to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  suPreme arChdomina 
  makeda.  
  elite Cadre [Praetorian 
  sWordsmen]. 
  Change the last line of Elite Cadre [Praetorian Swordsmen] 
  to the following:
  (During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in a unit 
  with Vengeance were destroyed or removed from play by enemy 
  attacks during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 
  3˝ and make one normal melee attack.)
  bronzebaCk titan. 
  Counter CharGe. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  CataPhraCt Cetrati. 
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  immortals.  
  venGeanCe. 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  Praetorian karax.  
  shield Wall (order). 
  Replace the first line of Shield Wall with the following:
  Until the start of its next activation, each affected model gains a 
  +4 ARM bonus while B2B with another affected model in its unit.
  hakaar the destroYer. 
  riGhteous venGeanCe. 
  Replace the text of Righteous Vengeance with the following:
  If one or more friendly Faction warrior models was destroyed or 
  removed from play by enemy attacks while within 5˝ of this model 
  during your opponent’s last turn, at the beginning of your next 
  turn this model can make a full advance followed by one normal 
  melee attack.
   
  leGion of 
  everbliGht
  bliGhted nYss 
  leGionnaires.  
  venGeanCe. 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
  CaPtain farilor & 
  standard.  
  venGeanCe. 
  Change the text of Vengeance to the following:
  During your Maintenance Phase, if one or more models in this 
  unit were destroyed or removed from play by enemy attacks 
  during the last round, each model in the unit can advance 3˝ and 
  make one normal melee attack.
   
  minions
  bloodY barnabas. 
  Counter CharGe. 
  Replace the second line of Counter Charge with the 
  following:
  This model can use Counter Charge only once per round.
  
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SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Warmachine/Colossals.pdf