Sands of Time

The figure climbed the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. It was dark around him, a torch with blazing light every 20 paces lighting the way. He had climbed 2000 stairs, but his posture and tempo was the same as it had been at the bottom. He did not tire. As he approached the top of the stairs, a great slab of stone blocked his way. It was inscribed with ancient hieroglyphs and markings, showing people praying beneath a great Sun. Obviously, behind the door lay a place of worship.

The figure spoke words in a forgotten language, chanting in a monotone voice, and as the words were spoken, the great stone slab began to tremble, and finally it started to rise, letting sunlight through, first a tiny line at the bottom, then more and more until the whole figure was covered in the brilliant rays. His torso was covered with a massive golden cuirass showing intricate carvings, showing a king riding a chariot. His limbs were whitish yellow, and closer inspection showed that they were wrapped in ancient bandages. His face was also somewhat wrapped in bandages, where it didn't cover, greenish skin was showing. On his head he wore a golden crown, testament to his kingship of a land long forgotten. He was a King of the Tombs, ancient Sun King Khanutt.

Khanutt stepped out into a square terrace, and to all sides the steps of the Pyramid stretched downwards. Any mortal would be dizzy standing on the top of the great Pyramid, but Khanutt were past any physical sensation. The only feeling that ever filled his chest was a burning anger. Hatred towards the world. Hatred towards the powers that had re-animated him into this afterlife. Hatred towards Nagash, the great necromancer that had animated the lands of Khemri. Hatred towards the armies that had foiled his plans of conquest. Hatred towards the fact, that he couldn't leave his Pyramid, an impotent king indeed.

He gazed down. Far beneath the Pyramid, in the great Desert of the Great Dunes, two armies had gathered. Both looked battle-weary and stood opposing each other. But both armies looked like armies that was used to victory. Khanutt could see into the hearts of the generals - they had come a long way to be here, had fought countless battles victoriously. Now they faced each others, in contest of the greatest of prizes - the looting of the Ancient Pyramids. Whoever won could loot as he pleased, because the Spirit of Khemri had already been crushed.

Khanutt looked closer at the two armies - his gaze as sharp as an eagle, when standing at the top of his Pyramid. One of the armies was an Undead army - lead by an Ancient creature, but not a Tomb King. Khanutt's heart was filled with anger. The creature looked up, and for a brief second, their eyes locked. The sheer Hatred in the creature's red eyes caused Khanutt to take a step back. Here was a creature that was born from hatred, that didn't know, or had ever known any other emotions. Around it, hordes of Skeletons and Zombies formed loose formations, a pack of ghosts and a solitary ghost-figure milled about. Two necromancers read from ancient tomes, preparing their battle invocations. The sands shook as a squad of Knights clad in black armour thundered across the Dunes, their weapons gleaming a sickening green colour. A pack of wolves leapt at the feets of the horses, the Undead steeds not noticing them. It was the army of a Vampire Count.

Opposing it, ranks upon ranks of rats stood, a solid wall of fur and teeth. The swarm whipped itself into a feeding frenzy, ready to devour everything in their path. Khanutt had a hard time picking out the individuals leading the army, for the army seemed more like a swarm with a unified mind. An individual caught his eye though. Clad in an old armour, wielding a double-handed weapon, that was halfway rusted through, he was also the largest of the Skaven. He screamed, revealing a mouthfull of sharp teeth, some broken and some missing, but menacing nonetheless. Also Khanutt spotted two weird Engineers, wielding strange halbards that looked like they could channel lightning energy, and they wore strange back-packs that gathered the Winds of Magic around them. Khanutt could also feel the slightest shifting of the sands, and knew that the Skaven force had something hidden beneath the sands. How they had avoided the burried scorpions, he did not know.

As the morning sun rose lazily in the blue desert sky, the two armies began advancing towards each other.

Go back to Introduction

Proceed to Vampire Counts Army Selection

Proceed to Skaven Army Selection

Proceed to Pre-Battle Preparations