Outcasts - Week 3

They say that for a time, after the last survivors had walked beyond the Shadowed gate of the Vampiric Kingdom beneath the mountain the valley forgot they had ever set food upon it. Traders no longer took to the Shrine of Sigmar to sell their wares to the starving pilgrims, and their guardians once more found themselves without a ward to give them purpose.

Such peaceful ignorance endured through much of the cold months, what tortures those who swore fealty to the undead endured are surely secrets that the shadows will never tell, but with the coming of new life unto the Valley of the Ironking, as frost gave way and melted into a dewlike smattering of water across the broken earth that formed the valley floor a new kingdom emerged.

Clad in robes as black as the shadow they now called home and platemail born of crimson metal bathed in the blood of their lessers the survivors were annointed as the Crimson Caravan of the Mountain. On nightmare steed they ranged out with all haste from the mountain gates, laying waste to the caravans and barbarian encampments in the locality and taking vast swathes of those not slain back into the mountains maw to sate the hunger of their masters.

To outside these ranging ravagers had given their very humanity in search of safety, their faces pale after so long hidden from the blessed light as they lurked in the halls beneath the earth. But where once honeyed words had left them broken and starving their new kingdom flourished upon the very ground their foes blood was spilt. Around the mouth of the mountain the settlement of Nightspire was erected with the haste granted to those gifted labourers from the dead.

Their places within the Valley of the Ironking cemented the once outcasts found themselves lords of their new Nightspire province beneath the watchful eyes of the Soulblight that ruled from Shadowed Palace. Yet their very strength would seem the bone of contention to those who had been born to the valley long before the Shadowmarsh fell, even as the barbarian encampments were cleared away fresh eyes began to seek the treasures of the lost valley to raise their own empires. The Duardin set forth to the gates of the Ironking himself, that they might crack it open and rob Nightspire of the treasures of its vaults, so too began the murmurings of the Varanguards arrival to spread the touch of Archaon to a region yet to feel his wrath.

Even those that would once have called the people of the Shadowmarsh ally turned upon their new found power with hungry eyes desperate to rob such hard fought victory from their grip.


Division, Hatred, and thirst for Power lead only to destruction. As the people of the valley begin to come to our gates we must open our arms and minds to their pleas. Nightspire is born of suffering but need not spread it to all she touches, instead we must turn that pain to righteous act.

Reach out to those who would call Sigmar master, let them build Shrines within the walls of the City. Were not Nagash and Sigmar once revered together?

Together we can push back the tide of Chaos, Seperate we would surely fall.


The gates of the Ironking are little but a cypher, though the key is likely long since lost we have amongst our number some of the finest scholars in the regionl. Ofcourse given that many of the tribes in the region struggle to tell which end of a sword is the buisness end that comparison struggles somewhat.

Dispatch the scholars to the Ironkings Gate, if we can breach its vaults first the wealth of the Kingdom within will ensure the place of Nightspire in the future of the region, and all will have to recognise our rightful place as rules.


Water forms precious resource for the Valley of the Ironking, even now only the Trench provides sustainable drinking water. Should our foes take it, or worse form settlement around it we would find ourselves ever at their mercy to keep our growing populace safe.

We must fortify the Trench, that all who come upon the Valley of the Ironking must pay tribute to the Nightspire if they want its life giving water. Our masters have sustained us thus far, it would be unwise not to heed their advice.


War has forged us into the titans we have become, in the fall of Beaconhill we were but outcasts, weak and afraid. Now Nightspire stands defiant in a land none could claim dominion over.

Let none who walk upon the Valley without the blessing of the Mountain live, we must forge out and seize the mouth of the Valley and fortify our kingdom. We march to meet these newcomers head on and do battle in the Valley Mouth were their manyfold numbers do little to aid them.

The dead stand with us, war can only grow our numbers.

As week 3 in the AoS Shadowmarsh Outcasts campaign closes out we see the true measure of the new city of Nightspear. Their military forces of Living and Undead alike form a blockade around The Trench, denying newcomers access to drinkable water