The End Times : Rumors 2.0

Il modello in plastica non ti impedisce di morire.

Belegar aveva ricevuto un modello in plastica con il nuovo LdE, ma questo non gli ha impedito di morire. Questo perché molti personaggi morti in End Times avevano vecchi modelli.

No longer could the dawi count the mountains as their own. They teetered on the brink of extinction.
Thorgrim Grudgebearer ground his teeth together. The Dammaz Kron lay under his hand. It had glutted itself on woes, growing thicker faster than at any other time in the High King’s remarkable reign.
He stared at the Granite Gate two hundred feet away. Massive twin doors of stone, imposing despite being only half – and it was exactly, precisely half – the height of the tall, vaulted corridor they barred. The gates shuddered under an impact from the far side: a quiver in the stone so small that only a dwarf, stone born and stone master, could see. Bands of runes carved into the gates glowed intensely with inner blue light, their magic striving to keep the gates whole and closed.
The skaven were coming. As sure as Thorgim’s chin wore a beard, they would get through. The ratkin had burst every defence, arcane and otherwise, that the dawi of Karaz-a-Karak had thrown up.

Thorgrim thought on the horrors that afflicted his people.
Karak Azul overthrown.
Karak Eight Peaks lost a second time.
Zhufbar swarmed by an endless tide of vermin.
Barak Varr pouring smoke from its great dock gates, the pride of the dwarf fleet broken in the sea before it.
The holds of the Grey Mountains overcome and lost in three horrific nights of bloodshed.
Karak Kadrin poisoned.
Karaz-a-Karak besieged for years now, cut off on all sides above and below.

The streams of refugees pouring into the dwarf capital from other kingdoms had given Thorgrim much anguish. At a time when he thought his dream might be fulfilled, that the lost realms of the Karaz Ankor would be reclaimed, it had all come to nothing. The fleeing dwarfs brought with them tales of proud strongholds cast down, and not only in dwarf lands. Many dwarfs of the diaspora had fled back to their ancestral homeland from human cities – their habits and speech strange; some of them even trimmed their beards! – telling of similar woes beyond the mountains. But what was more horrifying than the incoming flood and the dire tidings they brought was that it had stopped. No dwarf had come into Everpeak for months.
Tilea, Estalia and Bretonnia ashes. The Empire devastated. The moon cracked in the sky, invasion from the north, and ratmen swarming from everywhere.
‘We stand alone,’ he said into his beard, his unblinking stare locked upon the door. It shuddered again.

Karak Eigth Peaks falls to Queek Headtaker. He, well, takes King Belegar's head.

Skarsnik survives and abandons the hold, but Gobbla is killed.

The Dwarf holds fall one by one. Karaz-a-Karak is the last, and it assaulted by Queek Headtaker and Ikrit Claw.

Morrsleib has exploded, coating the planet in rings of warpstone and blocking out the stars.

Lustria is destroyed, but Clan Pestilens has been broken.

Thanquol and Verminking have been to Nuln, Lustria, and Middleheim at various points.

King Thorgrim Grudgebearer kills Queek Headtaker at the battle of Karaz-a-Karak, routing the Skaven.

Slayer King Ungrim and Josef Bugman subsequently head off to aid the Empire.

The Eternity Rune, aka. the Rune of Azamar, is broken.

High King Thorgrim is assassinated and beheaded by Deathmaster Snikch, who is subsequently supposed to let an army of Gutter Runners into Karaz-a-Karak. Their success is unknown.

The book ends with Thanquol revealing he's learned how to conceal his thoughts from Verminking, and is naturally plotting to betray the skaven and be the new master of the 13TH demon's Table .

The slaan destroy all of lustria to wipe out the skaven. All slaan are dead, but like lord croak dead. They can still be brought out as relic priests, but they don't take an active role in day to day life. The lizardmen are left under the control of the saurus old bloods and the skink chiefs.

The battle of middenheim is going badly for the forces of the empire, but ungrim and the dwarfs show up and turn the tide momentarily. Valten duels archaon, and valten has the upper hand for a bit until the skaven attempt to assassinate him mid-battle. It looks like they will be surrounded and destroyed, but suddenly a great chorus of roars- dragon roars- can be heard from the western horizon. The elves have arrived. A great rumbling from the east tells of the arrival of the ogre kingdoms, while the tip of a black pyramid cresting over the horizon can be seen to the south. The stage is set, the final battle is about to begin. that's how end times thanquol ends.

NANI:
Thorgrim muore ucciso da SNitch
Belegar muore ucciso da Queek

IMPERO:
Boris Todbringer muore in un agguato degli uominibestia dopo aver ucciso Khazrak
Martak muore ucciso da Archafone (credo)
Valden muore ucciso dal Verminlord deceiver mentre sfida Archaon (viene colpito alle spalle e Decapitato)


SKAVEN:
Queek muore ucciso da Thorgrim
Ikit Claw muore in teoria ma sembra vivo in realtà

CHAOS:
Kayros si fa bandire dal mondo da Martak
Khazrak muore in sfida per mano di Todbringer

LIZARD:
Mazdamundi muore mentre difende il mondo dalle scaglie di Morrslieb
Kroak "torna in vita" e fa il pezzo: salva delle porzioni di Lustria all'interno a delle bolle di energia
Thenhauin Profeta di Sotek muore (non mi ricordo come)

ELFI:
Teclis invece si dimostra vivo e per colpa sua cade MIddenheim

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Lustria:
Lustria viene bombardata dagli skaven, ma gli Slann la difendono fino all'ultimo con a capo Mazdamundi... Alla fine soccombono tutti, insieme alle città tempio salvo le porzioni di realtà all'interno a delle sfere di energie che si sollevano da terra, create dal rinato Lord Kroak, che però muore nello sforzo bruciato dalle fiamme magiche.

Impero:
Middnheim cade... I verminlord stabiliscono che gli SKaven sono troppo pochi (?!?!?!?!?!??!) e deboli per resistere al Caos e Archaon, quindi Verminking manda Thanquol a parlamentare con il Lord del Caos. SI mettono d'accordo e assediano Middenheim insieme.... Gli skaven vengono usati come distrazione e per gasare la popolazione. In tanto nel panico piu totale quel simpaticone di Teclis salvatosi spunta nel sottosuolo di Middenheim e decide di privare la città dalla sua protezione Arcana e si ruba la fiamma di Ulrik, lasciando cosi la città e la popolazione in balia dei demoni, e ingegneri skaven... In poche parole alla fine Archafone fa piazza pulita muoiono per l'impero: Todbringer che ha abbandonato la città a Valten per dare la caccia a Khazrak che incolpa di tutti i mali dell'Impero, Valten ucciso alle spalle, e Martak che non riesce a contenere la potenza del Signore della FIne dei Tempi

Nani:
è già stato detto tutti... Ungrim e Bugman vivi, Thorgrim ucciso dopo la vittoria di Karaz-a-Karak

Chaos: Archaon manda vilich e kairos a cercare karl franz, ma sa che falliranno. Una figura nelle tenebre fedele a Khorne è ora al suo fianco.

Thanquol va a capo del consiglio dei tredici per intercessione di Verminking. Il clan pestilence è decimato, ma lord Skrolk sta guarnendo dopo aver combattuto con Krogar, clan Skrye a pezzi. Ikit forse vivo.

Nagash da l'ordine di preparare le armate perché ha sentito che Ulrich è morto, e sa che il chaos sta scendendo per lui.

Il re sventatore è vivo, anche Bugman. Quasi tutte le roccaforti nani che sono prese.

Lizard devastati. Slann tutti morti, in pratica ora sono tutti come Kroaq. Lui invece è proprio andato.

The magnificent silver-white flame that burns eternally in the center of the great Temple of Ulric located in the god's stronghold of Middenheim. In ancient days, when the tribes of the East were still settling the lands of the Reik basin, Ulric chose a great mountain in the north of the land to be his earthly domain. With a single strike of his fist, he obliterated the top of the mountain, rendering it flat. Where his fist had struck, there sprung a great, cold flame that forever rages in white-hot fury. Around this fire, Ulric's chosen people, the vicious Teutogens, took the mountain, now to be known eternally as the Fauschlag, as their home. It was under the belligerent chieftain, Artur, that the city of Middenheim was built upon the Fauschlag, after Artur had pressed the Dwarf-Folk into burrowing through the mountain in -50 IC. The Great Temple of Ulric upon the Ulricsberg is the holiest site dedicated to the god in all the Old World, and it is incumbent upon the god's followers to make the pilgrimage to it at least once in their lifetimes.

The Flame of Ulric is the embodiment of Ulric's favour and everlasting rage. It is said that should the fire ever be allowed to go out, winter shall forever grip the world. It is the sign of Ulric's favour if a man can enter the Flame and emerge from it unscathed. Indeed, when Sigmar Unberogen fought Artur of the Teutogens for control of the Teutogen tribe, he was knocked into the fire by Artur's attacks. Rather than burn, Sigmar communed with the very essence of his god and emerged from the fire not only unhurt, but also blazing with the cold power of the wolf-god. When his roar broke from his throat, it was the howl of a wolf, not the sound of a man, and with a single strike did he smite Artur -- thus did Sigmar finally unite the tribes, with the aid of his mighty Lord. 

>(After skaven overun a temple-city.) The warlock engineers soon discovered the Device of the Great Beyond, a communication apparatus that spoke to beings from beyond the stars. As they swirled its many dials, a querulous voice spoke through the stone speakers. The voice, fair and clear, caused the skaven to bolt away. The device was something like the far-squeaker, but the melodious tones that issued forth were, if anything, akin to the despised speech of the elf-things. As they did not understand the alien language, nor how the arcane contraption worked, the warlock engineers pulled the device apart and shot it with warplock pistols until it stopped making any sounds. DAN DAN DAAAAN : Maybe ELDAR ?

Oxyotl (the chameleon skink special char) is awesome - he takes out at least one of the Black 13 Skaven assassins who are sent to kill Mazdamundi - none of them make it so he may have killed more than the one from the description.
Tekko-Ekko saves many of the slann of Tlaxtlan, who are incapacitated after fending off the warpstone moon, leading them out of the city before a comet he has pulled down destroys it along with the skaven who are looting it.
Tenehuain repels the skaven from one of the cities and appears to be a tactical mastermind.
Grim-Loq dies to Nurglitch, who Kroq-Gar then kills; a Plague Verminlord then kills Kroq-Gar's saurus guard though KG survives - the Verminlord then leaves with Nurglitch's body. KG is then called away and bonds to a new Carnosaur mount to help him get there in time.
Mazdamundi declares exodus - some slann stay to defend the planet while others (accompanied by the highest skink officials) leave.
The selfishness and superstition of some of the skink hierarchy is also a common theme throughout - when Tekko-Ekko is trying to save the slann, the templeguard support him but he is thwarted by some of the skink attendants who are more concerned with their own status than the survival of their charge.
When the moon is shot by the Skaven energy cannon, the slann who have remained behind die trying to contain the fallout, Mazdamundi amongst them.
Kroak, moved by his protege's death, makes his final act with one powerful word and contains the destruction to Lustria and the Southlands but also protects some who still remain within protective bubbles - though it is not specified who exactly survives.
The death of the two most powerful slann characters is tragic but they die nobly protecting others .

‘Isn’t it just?’ said Bugman. He looked the king dead in the eye. For all his power and honourable ancestry, Thorgrim felt the battered ranger, born from the dwarf exodus, little better than city-dwelling umgdawi, to be far more than an equal to him. ‘When my old dad’s brewery burned to the ground, and my folk were all killed, I thought it was the end of the world.’ He sighed, a spill of smoke twisting its way from his mouth. ‘And it was the end of one. Another began. I am still here. Don’t scratch out the dawi yet, High King. There’s fight in us all still.’ Bugman hung his magic pint pot, now mysteriously empty again, from his belt. He stood up and offered his hand to the king, like they were two merchants in a bar and not a dispossessed brewer and the lord of all dwarfs. Thorgrim shook it. ‘I’ll be away now.’ He looked into the night, broken only by the dwarfs’ lamps and torches and the light streaming from the high windows of the forts. ‘There are other dwarfs out there as need me.’ ‘Still?’ said Thorgrim. Bugman smiled down at the king. ‘Aye, and there always will be. Whatever happens next, king of kings, don’t ever forget that. We’ve lost a lot, that’s for sure, but there’s no use crying over spilt ale. As long as the mountains are made of stone, there’ll be dwarfs in them, of that I’ve no doubt.’ Bugman lifted up his head, and let out a long trilling whistle. The call of the high mountain chough, not heard for years in those parts. It brought a tear to the king’s eye.

Remember Belegar's wife and kid? Wonder what happened to them?

Spoiler:

‘Boss! Boss!’ Skarsnik heard the words only dimly. His entire attention was fixed on the dead Gobbla, his hands still pressed into his gradually sinking flesh. A hand grabbed him. ‘Boss!’ Skarsnik whirled round and snarled into the face of Kruggler. Kruggler took a step backwards, both hands raised. ‘Boss! Now ain’t the time. Don’t let them see you like this, boss. The lads need bossing, boss! What are we going to do?’ Skarsnik shivered. The skin around his eyes felt tight. A strange emotion he’d not felt before… Nah, nah, that wasn’t right. Once before, long ago, when Snotruk had killed Snottie, his loyal companion in his lonely days as a runt. Hollow like, all empty inside, like nothing really mattered any more. He shook it off, but it clung on, clamping around the quivery bit of meat inside his chest like it would crush it with cold, cold ice. ‘Ye’re right, ye’re right.’ He nodded at Gobbla. ‘Someone take that away!’ he said, trying to sound like he didn’t care. The goblins that came forward were wise enough to handle the dead squig very carefully indeed. Kruggler helped the goblin warlord up while one of Skarsnik’s little big ’uns smashed the chain with his long axe. The weight gone from his foot felt weird. He wiggled it around speculatively. Definitely weird.


--Breve spiegazione di alcuni eventi tra i 2 capoversi , durante la battaglia uno dei Verminlords si avvicina a Skarsnik e gli passa un arma , dicendogli di usarla contro La capitale nanica (sorry non ricordo il nome) e aggiunge come pagamento la testa stessa i Belegar .


Once he’d regained the gates himself, he went up to the broken battlements atop it. Through his telescope he watched the skaven break into a desperate run as the last of the Crooked Moon tribe withdrew to the safety of the Howlpeak. For a long time, he kept his spyglass trained on Queek’s furious, furry face and watched it get madder and madder. He kept watching, in fact, until the gates clanged shut. Now that was funny. ‘Gobbla,’ he said, meaning to share the moment with his pet. ‘Gobbla, look at that, eh? Boy? Boy?’ Skarsnik looked down at his side. But, of course, there was nobody there.

Yeah,’ said Skarsnik. ‘Don’t it just? All them zogging rats just upped and left an’ all. Ridiculous. It’s empty. Empty after all this time.’
‘The greatest stunty-house in all the world!’
‘Second greatest,’ corrected Skarsnik, holding up a grubby finger. ‘Second greatest. And it was all mine.’
‘Why they going?’ said Kruggler.
‘Search me,’ shrugged Skarsnik. ‘Don’t make no sense.’
‘Why don’t we just go back then?’ said someone.
‘Nah,’ said Skarsnik. ‘We do that, they’ll come back. Besides, new vistas, new worlds to conquer. All that.’
‘Stupid rats,’ grumbled Dork the orc, current boss of Skarsnik’s bigger greenies. Skarsnik had lost so many of his chieftains he wasn’t sure who was who any more, and he couldn’t exactly stop to check his lists.
‘Mark my words, it’ll be full of trolls soon enough,’ said Tolly Grin Cheek the Fourth.


‘Maybe,’ said Skarsnik, raising his eyebrows. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time, except, it won’t happen.’
‘How you know that, boss?’ said Dork.
Skarsnik plucked a human-made watch from his pocket and screwed up his eyes to peer at it. ‘I just do. Should be about now.’
‘What, boss?’ said Tolly Grin Cheek.
‘You don’t think I’d let those ratboys have the place, did you? You don’t think I’m beat do you? Eh? Eh?’
The goblins and orcs looked at each other searchingly. No one wanted to hazard a guess at the right answer to that one.
‘Course not!’ said Skarsnik. ‘Y’see, those ratboys are too zogging clever by half.’
‘Not like us, eh, boss!’ said Dork. The others laughed at their own cleverness.
‘No. No. Definitely not,’ replied Skarsnik flatly. ‘Anyways, that big ratfing promised me two things. Old Belegar here.’ Skarsnik patted his dwarf-hide pouch, wherein languished the severed head of the king. ‘And one of them fancy machines the ratties are always meddling with. I had a mob put it down there, set it off to go, then run away.’
‘What was it, boss? What was it?’ they shouted excitedly.
Skarsnik pulled a pained expression and shuddered. ‘Can’t one of you zogging morons have a guess, just one guess?’
‘A super trap!’ said one.
‘A big axe?’ said Dork hopefully.
‘A troll!’
‘A dragon!’
‘Two dragons!’
‘Lots of dragons!’ someone else shouted, getting carried away with the whole dragon idea.
‘It’s a bomb, you snotlings-for-brains. Our boss here got a big bomb off them, didn’t he?’ Zargakk the Mad said. ‘He did, he did!’ he added, nodding in enthusiastic agreement with himself.
‘That’s the truth, right there,’ said Skarsnik. ‘A bomb. Apparently, they was going to blow up the big dwarf mountain up north where the king of all stunties live. Well, not now they ain’t!’
They all shared a good laugh at that.
‘This big rat god fing showed up, and offered it to me. Tried to talk me into blowing up Zhufbar with it! So I said yes.’
‘But we ain’t at Zhufbar, boss!’
‘Yeah, Zhufbar’s, like, miles away.’
‘It’s at least three.’
‘More like loads.’
‘Will you just let me finish?’ shouted Skarsnik. ‘Zhufbar’s one thousand and eighty-four miles away, if you must know. So I thoughts to meself,’ he continued at normal volume again, ‘I ain’t walking all that way on the say-so of a ratboy! Then I finks, well, if I ain’t going to have the Eight Peaks, and the stunties aren’t going to have the Eight Peaks, then the zogging ratboys certainly aren’t going to have it. I’m going to be the last king of the Eight Peaks. Me,’ he said, low and growly. ‘Not some mange-furred rat git with cheesy breath! I tells you, it’s the biggest bomb what ever there was. Huge! All brass and iron and wyrdstone.’ He had to exaggerate its size. The goblins would never have believed something small as a troll’s head could do so much damage.
‘Weeds toe what?’
‘He means the glowy green rock what the ratties likes so much,’ said Dork, glowing almost as much as said rock himself with self-satisfaction.
‘Yeah, that’s right. The green glowy. About a ton of it, I’d say, all packed about with black powder.’
‘What’s an “aton”?’
‘Lots! A ton is lots! Very heavy! It’s lots, all right?’ said Skarsnik, his hood vibrating with irritation. ‘So lots it’ll make them little bangs what the ratties brought down Red Sun Mountain with look like squigs popping on a fire. And I made ’em give it to me! Me!’

A tinny chime sounded from out of the watch, strange music to play out the destruction of their home, accompanied by the slap-tramp of goblin feet as the tribes wound their way upwards.
‘And that’s the timer,’ said Skarsnik. He chuckled evilly.
They all stared expectantly at the city. Big ’uns and bosses had to lash the lads to stop them from gawping at what their betters were looking at.
Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
‘Was that it? Has it gone?’ asked a particularly thick underling, who was staring right at Karak Eight Peaks’s desolate ruins.
‘No. No. No! That wasn’t it, you zogging git!’ Skarsnik roared. He spun round and blasted the gobbo with a bright green zap of Waaagh! energy. The goblin exploded all over everybody else.
An uncomfortable silence fell, punctuated by the drip of goblin blood. Karak Eight Peaks remained resolutely, undemolishedly there.
‘Er,’ said Kruggler, tentatively tapping Skarsnik’s shoulder. ‘You know them skaven gizmos, they don’t always work, do they, boss?’
‘Mork’s ’urty bits,’ said Skarsnik. He sniffed. He spat. He shuffled about a bit. The chain that Gobbla used to be attached to clanked sadly. He couldn’t bring himself to take it off. ‘Not with a bang, but with a whimper,’ he muttered to himself.
‘Sorry, boss?’
‘Nothing, Krugs,’ said Skarsnik with forced bonhomie. ‘Nothing. Just something I read in a humie book once.’ Skarsnik shook his head and waved his sorry band onwards. ‘Come on, boys. Nothing left to see here. Nothing left at all.’
‘’Ere, boss,’ called someone. ‘I got a question.’
‘Yes?’ said Skarsnik. ‘Dazzle me with your piercing insight, Krugdok.’
‘Just where exactly are we going?’
‘And I remain undazzled,’ said Skarsnik with such sharp sarcasm you could have trimmed a troll’s nose hair with it. Besides Zargakk, not one of the goblins or orcs, excepting perhaps Kruggler – and then only perhaps – noticed. ‘To tell you the truth, and I really mean it this time…’ The goblins dutifully tittered. The orcs scowled. ‘…I haven’t got a bleedin’ clue.’
And with those eternal words, the last king of Karak Eight Peaks turned from his kingdom for the final time, and trudged over the mountain shoulder. Ahead of him the lowering volcanic skies hid an uncertain future.

ET : ARCHAON

[b]
[b]


.... si Archaon ha Gal Maraz .... [/b][/b]

riguardo gli Slann non è certo cosa stia succedendo: sembrerebbe che alcuni siano sopravvissuti (quelli fuggiti), mentre per quanto riguarda i morti si pensa saranno utilizzabili come sacerdoti reliquia al pari di Kroak, cosa sensata dato che il modello ci sarebbe. Altri invece sostengono che siano morti tutti, e non avendo il libro non posso pronunciarmi, ma spero proprio di no. Inoltre da quanto so il buon vecchio Mazda vive abbastanza a lungo da sentire la voce degli Antichi, e questo insieme allo strano apparecchio che parla in una lingua simile a quella degli elfi suggerisce un ritorno col botto. Io ci spero, sarebbe davvero una bella cosa per tutta la sfera del bene e soprattutto per i lizard. Non mi pronuncio sulla formazione lizard :|