It is hard to even start to describe in any coherent form the plain craziness that was the Tor Megiddo game. It was an relentless rollercoster and a classic battle report would be next to impossible for me, this will instead be a flood of images. I hope you enjoy what we have to offer.
Red dust blows in the wind, the morning haze lingers on and the world starts to burn, the sun is relentless and the day is sure to bring forth madness and fever.
hieromonarchs lead the prayer over the fresh oil, mixing their blood with the holy medium, in the dark patterns disturbing visions swirl
Vell and Segemose, bounty hunters. They hound their prey across the blazing sands, today they will kill.
superstition runs wild and deep, ill omens and signs of doom, the Bird of Hermes has not been seen for an age. And yet now it reveals itself again.
through a cloud a sand the Wild Boys storm into the Valley of Defilement, on clicking claws their queen cometh and with her comes the Warboy and his infernal machine. Yet among her subjects mutiny brews.
not only living men and women hear the harrowing call of oil, desperate to still it’s black thirst the mighty scrap god moves into the valley
the mutant tribes of the desert moves into the fray, they arrive late but their greed is strong. Twisted they are but the battle roars in their hearts
disturbed by foolish men the fauna of Tor Megiddo answers in kind. Sandworms awaken, hungry for flesh, spewing toxic waste over plagueborgs and techno-barbarians alike.
everywhere the sounds of battle roars. Warboy fights the mighty Valkyrie to a standstill, inefficiently their clunky machines engage each other
this is insanity, a godling beast march upon the Promethean Tower, hail the blasphemous pig!
As the storm grows in strength, the tribes feel the blood lust rise in them. The fallen abattoirs of the Flesh Barons stink of blood, driving the tribals into a frenzy
Vortrekkers, junk lords
the path is far from clear but it calls, a black carrion call, come to the Tower
Junk walks and the earth itself shakes
Death comes to Hell Gulch, plagueborgs attack the settlers but they will soon find that their victims are far from helpless
medicaer, the sawbone faces the children of Nergal
like a god the abandoned Tor walks, the pitiful humans quake in terror as its majesty approache
The hieromonarchs and their flock flees from the coming apocalypse, no one will survive the purifying flames and the deluge of promethium
the Tower beacons the mad, a keening sound. It is home of addiction and unspeakable horrors.
Not even the bizarre sandworms can stop the inexhaustible machine
– Alexander Winberg –