Woldwraths stand as towering monuments to the woldcrafter art, meant to tap into and unbind the ultimate fury of Orboros. Brought to life amid strenuous, blood-fueled rituals conducted atop powerful conjunctions of ley lines, woldwraths channel the vast energies that flow within the earth. Their tempestuous assaults are prefaced by voltaic flickers that play along darkening clouds above and the pulsing runes inscribed across their stone forms.
As the hosts of Everblight’s legion advance, they are preceded on the ground by the fearsome naga. These draconic horrors first spew caustic venom upon their victims before closing to tear the wounded apart with fanged maws. Though seemingly simple in form, the naga are in truth complex spawn representing Everblight’s genius in the manipulation of blighted flesh.
Unlike the many varieties of trolls that prefer to blend into their environments, a storm troll primed with galvanic energy and ready to attack is a blazing beacon of power, intimidating well beyond its size. Deadly lightning erupts from the array of natural conductors that runs the length of its spine, playing along its sides before bolting from its mouth at anything that arouses the troll’s ire.
Few warbeasts survive long enough to distinguish themselves in the service of the skorne, but the fiercely intelligent and disciplined Tiberion has fought alongside Tyrant Xerxis for over a decade. Because the titan’s intractable nature made him almost impossible to train, his original handlers nearly put him to death. Xerxis sensed an extraordinary fighting spirit in him, though, and took it upon himself to break the beast. Now Tiberion serves his master Xerxis with all the devotion of a sworn soldier, standing immovable against waves of enemies even as he shatters entire formations with his powerful tetsubo.
The Sons of Bragg swagger across western Immoren like living legends, each mighty with both sword and voice. The Sons are heard long before their arrival, booming mighty chants that resound off trees and mountains. Wrathar leads the chorus of his brothers Tor and Rhudd. Their voices join in perfect harmony to belt out powerful chants that sustain them despite impossibly grievous wounds. On their own each brother is formidable, but together they are an army of three.
In a World Ravaged by Warfare, Fury is Your Greatest Weapon!
From the frozen northern wastes the Legion of Everblight descends upon Immoren, defiling the land with taint and corruption. Dependent upon nature but fueled by its raw and ancient power, the druids of the Circle Orboros clash with the dragon Everblight’s forces to halt the spread of the dragon’s blight. The irrepressible Kaya the Wildborne, flanked by her trusted pack of beasts, leads the Circle’s vanguard against twisted and bloodthirsty ogrun and dragonspawn led by the deadly Lylyth, Herald of Everblight.
To look upon a mountain king is to see the primal essence of the troll: hunger, rage, and the strength of nature. Set loose upon the world, these great trolls shake the ground with their tread and sunder granite with their roars. Mountain kings, who seek to satisfy an appetite incomprehensible to lesser creatures, now walk Caen again after millennia of imprisonment below the earth. Their awakening can mean only desperation—or madness—on the part of the trollkin.
The tenacious and vicious nature of the cyclops brutes makes them singularly responsive to training, and the skorne rely on them to hold the flanks of formations or stand vigil over tyrants. Armed with towering shields and massive polearms, brutes constitute a virtually insurmountable threat on the battlefield. Their unique vision focuses on evading blows, and they can extend this power to those they protect.
Each witch doctor is a powerful mystic who lives and breathes the foul necromantic arts that are his birthright. Life and death are two edges of the same bloody knife to the witch doctor, who often sees his allies as nothing more than tools of battle to be moved between those two states as required. Amid the morass of combat he gathers the vile totems required to power his spells, tearing the fleshy trophies from the carcasses of vanquished foes. Raising his sacral blade aloft, the witch doctor utters sibilant incantations that impel the huge beasts he control in a wave of scaled death.
