Mordheim in the year 2019
It is the year 2019 IC and it is a time of anarchy and despair. For close to 500 years the great provinces of the disintegrating Empire have burnt with civil war. The fracturing that began with the death of Emperor Mandred in 1152 IC is almost complete. This is an age of tears, of broken oaths and of blood. Four would be emperors struggle for the right to sit upon the throne of Sigmar. Their burning ambition have consumed the Empire in a firestorm of death. All over the great realm the dead remain unburied, the corpses of heroes and villains, poor and rich rot. In the dark forests beastmen call out to their gods and kill with utter contempt. Inside the cities foul cults gnaw at the society, leading men into the dark. And upon unnumbered roads the dead walk.
Mordheim, the foulness in Ostermark, rots. The place still burns and the beings that infect the city has evolved and become even more dangerous. Warpstone blights the land around the city and humanity is losing its hold upon the place. It is a no-go zone for all law-abiding citizens, it is a haven for madmen and traitors. Chaos crawls in the walls, rats walk on two legs and cannibal mutants stalk intruders. Few dares to come near the place, and those that do will learn that this is no place for humans. This is the City of Damnation.
In Altdorf, the Grand Prince of Reikland screams in drunken rage. Ludwig is a man broken down by vice and misfortune. Barely literate and only occasionally sober he still seeks to claim the imperial high seat. Behind this wretch stands a far more dangerous man, unseen but all seeing. He is the Master of Masks, the Red Hand, the Emperor of Crime. He name is Efraim Konniger and he is the true power in Altdorf. The web spun by Konniger is deep and convoluted, he seeks to ensnare all the lords and ladies of the Empire, manipulating them to advance his plans. And thus, he sends his agents and the unsuspecting soldiers of Reikland into Mordheim, for the lure of wyrdstone is irresistible to all.
Deep within his lair upon Ulricsberg the Wolf Emperor of Middenland broods. He is the blessed son of Ulric, the true emperor. And yet he had to hide when the count of Sylvania besieged his city and killed his subjects. Pissing himself in terror as the knights of Drachenhof stood silent watch around Middenheim. Humiliation burns him, and it is with hate that he looks upon the other emperors. That a warrior such as he should have to hide while a drunk and a merchant avoided facing the darkness of Sylvania. But to move against those fools he need gold and men. His realm is poor and devastated, the prestige of the capital city eclipsed by rural Middenland. But the still smoldering ruins of Mordheim beckons him. There his men will find the gold he so desperately needs, there his destiny will finally be forged.
The aging empress Magritta, Grand Countess of Marienburg, have watched the ongoing wars from Nuln. Against her wishes she has been confined to the Imperial Capital. Here she was crowned and here she must remain. The long war seems endless, victory slipping through her fingers time after time. Yet it is she who will be victorious, not the savage nor the drunkard and certainly not the upstart peasant count of rural Sylvania! The Tilean genius Leonardo da Miragliano might just be able to turn the tide of conquest. For he has invented a great war machine. This ship of wood and iron can destroy her enemies and bring her the long-sought victory. He only need the foul material known as wyrdstone to power the contraptions. To the east lies the smoking ruins of Mordheim, the city of damnation. A place said to be filled with wyrdstone. That is where her men must go, into the mouth of madness.
Cult of the Possessed
Deep in the infernal Pit the Shadowlord still slumbers, its horrific consciousness stirring in unsettling motions. It dreams of a child, a chaos child, a moon child. The child is the door and the child is the key. For when this being is found it shall convolute time itself and unshackle the Shadowlord. At that moment the Evil Sun shall rise and the Eye of Terror open. The Shadowlord will step through the gate and return to the Realm of Chaos. It will cast down its fathers to suffer as it was made to suffer. To further this prophecy the cult of the Possessed wages a terrible war upon all intruders. They seek to find the moon child and preserve the wyrdstone in the holy places where it rests. It is a momentous task for many are those who would seek to defile the blessed stones, yet the cult always grows. Beastmen emerge from the woods, men see the truth and cover their faces in crimson and daemons bless the worthy. Those who are true to their oaths shall never fail and the devout shall be blessed among men.
The End of Days are upon us. Sigmar’s Hammer has leveled the city of Mordheim and the filthy bowels of hell have been emptied upon the world. All over the Empire the living and the dead alike embrace eternal damnation, their souls lost to daemon gods. Only blood and pain can appease Lord Sigmar. The blood of the righteous and the pain of the virtuous. Such is the creed of the Order of the Templars of Sigmar. The grim women and men of the order will allow no evil to remain within His realm, if a thousand innocents must die to bring down a foul sinner then such is the price that must be paid. They have fought the vampires of von Carstein, they have hunted the beastmen of the Drakwald and yet again they march upon Mordheim. Only fire can cast out such foulness, and only the highest of blazes will return Sigmar’s benevolence to the realm of men.
Sisters of Sigmar
Humanity is all but gone from the once proud city of Mordheim. Mutants, daemons and vermin hold court where man once ruled. Yet there are those who still stand fast, those who will not kneel before their destruction. The Sigmar’s Rock still hold. The Sisters of Faith and Chastity have not broken the oaths they swore before the high altar. In the heart of the convent the bound entity writhes in chains unseen. Further down the thrice blessed iron vault holds the hoard of wyrdstone the Sisterhood guard. High Matriarch Bertha Bestraufrung is old and crippled, the burden of her office weighs heavily on her, but she is still a leader with few equals. The Sisters take great pride in their canoness and it is with cold fury they venture into Mordheim to purge it of sin and damnation.
Vlad von Carstein, the Vampire Emperor, stands triumphant. Death has no hold on this monster, for again and again he shrugs of Morr’s cold embrace to continue is ever lasting existence. The weakened provinces of the Empire fall before him, one after the other. Already he has slaughtered his way through Talabecland, Middenland and Hochland. Who would dare to stand against his dark majesty now? The time is coming to launch the final campaign. He seeks to topple the twin pillars of the Empire. First his armies will lay waste to Altdorf and desecrate the Cathedral of Sigmar, then he shall march on Nuln to be crowned eternal emperor. But for this campaign to succeed he need more soldiers, already Sylvania is an empty land. Neither dead nor living remains. Vlad von Carstein need more warpstone to raise the necessary armies. Once more Konrad von Carstein enters Mordheim, the trusted emissary of the Emperor.
Below Mordheim both man and rat toil, excavating the warpstone in smoke and anguish, enslaved by the fiendish Skaven. Clan Eshin is fighting a shadow war in the ruins of Mordheim. Desperately they strive to keep Mordheim and its precious warpstone supply a secret from the rest of skavendom. Many are the hidden eyes that would seek to follow the work of the great clan. And many are the traitors and spies that have been found dead. The Nightlord of Eshin has decreed that no Skaven but those of clan Eshin shall ever set paws in Mordheim. To this end he has sent his greatest minions into the ruins. They are the assassins and theirs is the path of stealth, terror and murder. The hidden blade, the poisoned well, the claws around your neck. But day shall come when the clan will step out from the shadows to openly claim Mordheim as their own. And then darkness, decay and the Horned Rat will hold illimitable dominion over all.