ARM YOURSELF WITH WEAPONS OF MONSTROUS DESTRUCTION!
At their most desperate hour, the proud trollkin kriels set out to awaken the legendary mountain kings—ancient monsters of unimaginable size and power. Wurmwood, however, has its own designs on the slumbering beasts and plots to turn them on civilization. Meanwhile, the Skorne Empire seeks retribution against an ancient foe, and Everblight works to perfect his most terrifying dragonspawn yet.
Among the myriad powers at Everblight’s disposal, the most terrifying is the dragon’s capacity to infect his enemies in body and mind. The blight is not only a means to create his servants and spawn but also a weapon to be wielded against lesser creatures. The afflictor was birthed to serve this very purpose. Its body is a vessel for delivering the seed of all-consuming, destructive life. Struck by the beast’s wicked tail, a victim is pumped full of caustic corruption, its flesh made a vessel for a new child of the dragon.
Rask is a mighty bog trog warlock who has traded his people’s freedom for some degree of personal autonomy from the bloodthirsty gatormen. Cold and calculating, Rask is a formidable hunter, a skilled warrior, and one of the most ruthless and self-serving creatures in the Blindwater Congregation. Rask prefers to bring his enemies low through a combination of potent sorcery, peerless knowledge of the terrain, and a host of devious trick and obfuscations. He typically avoids direct confrontation with powerful enemies, preferring to use his abilities to tip the scales in favor of the lesser creatures that serve him. However, once his bog trogs and warbeasts have weakened an enemy, Rask claims the honor of the killing blow with a well-placed bolt from his harpoon gun.
Pitching enormous spears with bone-crushing force, impalers are the living ballistae of the trolls. Each carries a quiver of massive wood-and-iron projectiles bearing only the most basic resemblance to the puny twigs smaller races call spears. These savage implements obliterate men and knock even the greatest beasts off their feet.
Everblight still dreams of the time when he took to wing and spread death like a god; now his longing has been made manifest in the archangel. His most perfect spawn, the archangel courses through the sky and unleashes gouts of flame to spread across the earth. It scorches the enemies of its master, coming to ground only to feast upon those who would defy him. Where the archangel goes, so goes Everblight’s legion—and with it, the future Everblight envisions.
For as long as the tribes of the farrow have gone to war, they have been accompanied by the vicious razor boars. As large as wolves, razor boars are deadly, untamed creatures that require little incentive or training to join the farrow in battle. When loosed upon an enemy, razor boars charge in heedless of their own well-being, intent only on goring their prey and bringing them low to feast upon their soft flesh. Survivors of farrow raids grow pale when they recall the speed with which a few razor boars reduced a well-armed soldier to a heap of rags and bloody bones.
Ravenous and brutal, warpborn alphas are fearsome combatants that lay low enemies and feast upon them even as they die screaming. Warpborn led by an alpha become filled with similar bloodlust, speed, and ferocity, able to tear through enemies with unhesitating enthusiasm. They attack in a blurred frenzy, seeking victory but prepared for death amid the blood and viscera of those who stand against them.
Warpwolves bring an undeniable power to the battlefield, but the massive creatures are difficult to control. Warpborn Skinwalkers are Devourer worshippers who chose to undergo a partial transformation that leaves their minds more human while empowering them with a bestial strength. These monsters wade through opposing formations, ripping soldiers apart with their jaws or their hefty polearms.
The fearsome pyre trolls are able to belch gouts of combustible liquid that ignites in the air, sticks to flesh, and burns at hellish temperatures. After softening foes with blazing spittle, pyre trolls use their thick claws to tear apart their sizzling victims. Even their skin exudes heat, the air around them smoldering with ripples that warn of the inferno to come.
