A new era is beginning. It will be the era of darkness. We have turned our backs to the light and stepped from its path. Men will grow ever more distant from the gods, and seek the petty trappings of worldly power, sacrificing all at the altar of greed. Our childhood is at an end. Ahead of us looms nothing but the long, long night: a time without warmth or comfort. Once thriving as the capital of the Ostermark province, what is left of Mordheim is now a ruin of a city in the mist of despair where only the wicked, the greedy and the damned roam the streets. Located between the provinces of Ostermark and Stirland, Mordheim is cut in half by the River Stir. Growing steadily, the city flourished and its veteran warriors kept the settlement safe from invasions by the creatures of the Eastern Mountains and beyond. Before the city was destroyed, the river sourced the lively trade economy of Mordheim. The docks were ever busy with ships going back and forth, carrying timber and a variety of goods between Mordheim and other Imperial cities. Trade with the dwarfs living in the Worlds Edge Mountains was so well-established and booming that many dwarfs moved to Mordheim to practice their crafts. The river also provided plentiful fish for the inhabitants and allowed the city to have a bustling fish market. In those days, the diverse and prosperous market square, known as the District of the Flying Horse, had nothing alike in the whole Empire. Along with extensive trade business, the North-Eastern Quarter was also home to the Great Library of Mordheim established by Count Ignatius Steinhardt. Many distinguished buildings and constructions also adorned Mordheim such as the Temple of Sigmar, The City Hall, Count Steinhardt’s Palace and the Memorial Gardens. In the year 1707 if the Imperial Calendar, Orc Warlord Gorbard Ironclaw united the greenskin tribes in the mountains and led innumerable orcs and goblins through the Black Fire Pass and into the Empire. Anything that stood in the way of his massive forces was crushed to the ground, with only smoke and piles of ashes left behind. The Waaagh! of Gorbard brought doom upon the lands of men, leaving its cities desolated and its people desperate. With the situation becoming dire, the each of the provinces of the Empire had to send troops to fight with the greenskins that threatened them all. At the height of the Battle of Camp de Valen, the majority of Mordheims’s army perished on the field, but Count Steinhardt survived and the city was saved when the greenskin invasion turned to redirect its fury towards Averheim. Mordheim was spared of the brutal flames of rampage and destruction that ravaged Nuln and Averheim, decimated Solland and flattened every town along the course of the invaders. As time passed, Mordheim gained more prestige with its ever growing prosperity and wealth while the sons and daughters of the Empire spilled their own blood in the wake of a civil war. A result of the political and power struggles around Mordheim and other parts of The Empire at that time. While the nobles savored the riches of the city, the poor of Mordheim became further impoverished. As the gap between them grew unceasingly, the cracks in the steady rule of the city grew deeper too. The influence of many cults grew stronger while corruption and degeneration rooted in the hearts of the weak. By 1999 IC, wealth and power in the hands of the selected few reached the highest. The city of Mordheim was holding a great fortune when the Twin Tailed Comet, the sign of the hero God Sigmar, first appeared in the skies. Many believed the sighting of the comet apprised Sigmar’s return to unite men once more and lead them back to the glorious days of The Empire. A wave of newcomers of all kinds arrived in the city to bear witness to Sigmar’s arrival. As the population grew massively, so did the plague of deceit while greed and arrogance blurred the eyes of the masses. Corruption and anarchy strangled the city as poisonous vines climbing on the bark of a tree. The words of the few who foresaw doom and blight by the wrath of Sigmar as a punishment for the moral decay, were dismissed. But the truth dawned on all when the judgement of Sigmar, in the form of a comet, crashed into the city on the last night of the year, creating a crater known as The Pit. The ill-fated city was destroyed and burnt to the ground. After the crush, the wealthy city of Mordheim was no more. Piles of ashes and rubble had become a graveyard to all. Soon, glowing green black stones, shattered pieces from the comet, were found scattered in the city. These Wyrdstones as they were called, were the solidified, concentrated form of dark magic that flows into the world. Pure crystalized Chaos, or Warpstone. It is considered by Scholars as the ultimate physical manifestation of pure magic. These Wyrdstones had otherworldly properties; turning lead into gold and apparently healing the diseased. However, their unnatural energy had perilous effects on those who were exposed to the stones for a prolonged time, driving them into madness and creating gruesome mutants. Despite its many risks; it is a resource highly coveted by necromancers, alchemists and sorcerers alike. Terror and chaos arose in the menacing shadows as unholy creatures appeared from within these ruins… The Wyrdstones were dangerous yet precious, and before long their worth drove many treasure-hunters to the forsaken city. Warriors of all kinds swarmed the ruins to battle one another and the mutants that lurked in the streets. Shortly after the comet fell, the fighting only grew in intensity as more individual bounty hunters and warbands from different sizes and races arrived to the destroyed city and its surroundings. Some sought the precious stones to sell for a fortune, for there were many throughout the Empire who desired their powers. And some gathered them for the wicked agendas of their masters. Many yearned power, many desired glory, and many were slain in the damned city, washing the rubble and skeletons of Mordheim with blood. It was the Twin Tailed Comet that turned Mordheim into ruins and ash, yet the city was already left to rot in the hands of the greedy and the wicked before that. After the disaster, ruins crumbled further under the feet of those who more than anything were hungry for power. Since ancient times the Skaven have searched the world for the stones of power that men in their ignorance call wyrdstone but which Skaven have long since known as warpstone, blackstone, or seerstone. Warpstone forms the foundation of the Children of the Horned Rat, being used to enhance their obscure magic spells, their technology, poisons and even used as a currency. For this wicked race, warpstone is the most precious resource in all of the Warhammer world. Skaven Warlocks are commonly known to look incessantly for more and more Warpstone to power their crazy inventions and machinations. In their ongoing pursuit of the green-shaded stones, the disaster in Mordheim became a golden opportunity that could not be missed. Packs of Skaven began to appear amidst the rubbles and the ruins with each passing day. However, the existence of scattered Wyrdstones in Mordheim was not known by all the clans right away. Devoted to keep that secret as long as possible, the Nightlord of the great Clan Eshin grasped his chance and sent a small group of warbands to collect the stones in secrecy. Clan Eshin in particular is known for their highly skilled assassins who kill their foes with stealth and without mercy. The ratmen, being supreme rulers of the sewers and the tunnels under cities waged war against other warriors and fortune seekers from the shadows. Many a warrior in Mordheim has died with a dagger buried in his back, the killer never to be found. The use of poison is almost universally abhorred, but in the ruthless and brutal battles fought in Mordheim, desperate warbands often resort to the use of envenomed blades, most famously employed by Skaven assassins. Their victims suffering excruciating pain and incapacitating even the bravest and toughest of men. The entire city is now full of these vile creatures who are bigger and tougher than most would like to think. No being in Mordheim is ever safe from the threat of a Skaven lurking from the dark, ready to strike at any time. Since the disaster, powerful dark energies began to flow through the damned city, drawing the followers of Chaos to its source. Twisted and depraved, the Possessed were servants who willingly offered their bodies to the will of Daemons. Men whose hunger for power knows no bounds. Bearing incredible malice, they became so hideous and vile that not even a shadow of the men they once were can be recognized. Mutants, beastmen, cultists and the Possessed, all worshippers of dreadful gods of Chaos, pledged themselves to the evil forces awoken in Mordheim. Bound together by a new leader, a new so called Dark Emperor, their master Shadowlord, Master of the Possessed. Though none know whether he is man or Daemon, all proclaim him their saviour and eagerly seek to do his bidding. In the aftermath of the destruction, they went forth and claimed the ruins of Mordheim. Warbands of the cult led by Magisters roam the ruins to gather Wyrdstones for the Shadowlord and viciously slay anyone who crosses their path. There are few sights as horrific as a cult warband. Deranged warriors smeared with blood and dirt wave jagged weapons and chant blasphemous rites as they throw themselves upon their foes. Many are hardly recognizable as human, their bodies heavily scarred and disfigured. It is known that the powerful spirit of a Daemon can meld several creatures together, be they men or animals, into a multi-faceted horror. These monstrous Possessed are perhaps the most dangerous of the creatures of Mordheim, and certainly the most loathsome and dreadful. Of all the inhabitants of Mordheim only the Sisters of Sigmar were prepared for its destruction. The Sisters of Sigmar, as they are commonly called, have traditionally travelled the Empire administering to the sick and poor, tending to the needs of orphans, curing the diseased and mending broken bodies. As well as the healing arts, which they practice with expert knowledge of herb-lore and prayer, their advice is frequently sought by those about to make an important decision, for the Sisters of Sigmar are famed for their ability to predict the fickle course of fate. So it was that Seeress Cassandora foretold of the disaster that was about to strike the city. While the rest of Mordheim fell under a spell of madness the Sisters of Sigmar offered prayer after prayer, scourging themselves to drive out all thoughts of sin. When the blow finally came the Sisters gathered beneath the great temple dome of their convent which, well-built and fortified as it was by the prayers of the Sisters, protected them from the fire and heat of Sigmar’s judgement. The Sisters believe they have a holy mission, a task that they have been set by Sigmar himself and to which they must submit themselves body and soul. Their sacred duty is to gather up the shards of wyrdstone and hide it deep beneath Sigmar’s Rock in the vaults of their convent where, shielded by a great depth of solid granite and guarded by the eternal prayers of the sisterhood, it will cause no harm to Sigmar’s people. It is a nigh hopeless task, for there are few Sisters and countless shards of stone. Worse still, there are many wicked men and twisted creatures who want the stone for themselves, to take it from Mordheim and spread its contagion amongst the cities of the Empire. The training and harsh discipline of the convent includes mastery of martial as well as ecclesiastic skills, for mastery of the body is but the first step towards the mastery of the soul. Their favoured weapon is the warhammer, the instrument of Sigmar, seen as his holy symbol, alongside the twintailed comet. Zombies, ghouls, hellhounds, skeletons, all restless and ruthless dwelling in the mortal world. The dead can be raised from their endless sleep by the practice of necromancy and used by their master for whatever purpose. The will of their master is the will of their own, for they know neither fear nor agony. Along with the undead that came to Mordheim in search of the stones, were servants of the Vampire Count of Sylvania, Vlad von Carstein who was secretly gathering his armies in the shadows. Vlad desired the magical stones tremendously, for they held the energy he needed to power a malicious spell to awake all whom that were buried underground. The pieces of magic stone that lie scattered among the ruins of Mordheim can give the Vlad the power to challenge the nobles of the Empire and enslave the men of the Old World to his will. One day soon he will march from the forests of Sylvania at the head of an army of restless undead. As the use of magic was deemed a horrendous crime in the Empire, Witch Hunters swore to annihilate anyone who practiced it. Devoted and crazed by their mission to eradicate magic root and stem. Witches, mutants, daemons, necromancers and heretics alike, the Witch Hunters track down all whom they deemed wicked. Well-armed with silver blades and pistols, they are known to be cruel and determined in their ways. After Mordheim was crushed, the Grand Theogonist gave the hunters the new purpose of claiming the Wyrdstone in the name of Sigmar. With the justification given by the Grand Theogonist to kill anyone who stood in their way, Witch Hunters headed to the damned city accompanied by fanatic flagellants, men driven over the edge of sanity by their suffering and the losses they have endured. These flagellants firmly believe the end of the world has come and that Sigmar’s judgement has doomed them all. When the time of battle comes, they fully throw themselves into the fray in a desperate gesture of sacrifice and repentance. Flagellants are abundant in the city of Mordheim and even more arrive with each passing day. Vicious war hounds also accompany the Witch Hunters. They make for great companions and are oftentimes used to track and bring down the fugitives and the heretics. Since the discovery of the powerful magic resource known as warpstone. Mordheim has become a magnet for fighting men from all over the Empire. Nobles, merchants, and even the Temple of Sigmar itself offer rich rewards for shards of the mysterious stone. Holding the capital city Altdorf, Reikland is the heart of the whole Empire. Its soldiers are said to be the most disciplined and loyal of all. Brave and skilled on the battlefield, they are famed to be excellent archers and exceptional warriors in close quarters. Many men from the capital travel to Mordheim, some for their own personal gain, and others as part of official missions from higher authorities. Strong and large, Middenheimers come from the City of the White Wolf. These berserkers prefer weighty axes and crushing hammers as weapons. They have a reputation of being brutal and wild like beasts on the battlefield. No wonder how these rumors had started, for there are few who do not get weak in the knees at the sight of a howling Middenheimer charging. Then there are the men who come from Marienburg, known as the City of Gold. Marienburg is a rich and powerful trading city with an enormous fortune. It is also home to many guilds which have great influence on the politics of the Empire. Having the benefit of being hired by masters of tremendous wealth, mercenaries from Marienburg are always well provided with shiny armor and excellent weaponry. One could catch a glimpse at their brutality in battle during duels, for their greatest skill is in close combat. Mordheim quickly became a chaotic gathering storm for uncountable men who would hire themselves out as mercenaries to roaming warbands in the hopes of laying their hands on the precious stones. Daemonic creatures roam the streets in search for their next prey and the raw energies of Chaos blow strong within the damned city. Within the city, no peace can ever be found. The walls of Mordheim form twisted faces that scream and speak of malign portents. Each street is contested and the stench and smell of death permeates all. The surroundings of the city are full of countless small encampments that belong to the warbands that arrive to the place in search of plunder. More often than not, these same encampments are the last remnants of those Ill-fated warriors that, once venturing into the city of the damned, are never to be seen again.
