Thursday, March the 29th, 1912.

Every day we have been ready to start for our depot 11 miles away, but outside the door of the tent it remains a scene of whirling drift.

I do not think we can hope for better things now.

We should stick it out to the end, but we are getting weaker of course and the end cannot be far.

As I sit here speaking to you, my friends, on the wall above me is a photograph of Captain Scott and his fellow explorers at the South Pole in 1912.

Haven't been beaten there by Amundsen just a month before.

That's what I just read to you is Scott's last diary entry, just a few months after that photo was taken, when they had given absolutely everything on this epic quest across the Antarctic tundra to try and be the first people to reach the South Pole.

They give everything.

They slaughtered their ponies.

They had nothing but pemmican for months on end.

They grew weaker.

They suffered from scurvy and one by one they perished.

And I don't think I'm understating it, overstating it evening when I say that my decision to read the Warhammer Battle Book from front cover to end cover for you guys on the Crown Command was anything less than that.

An epic quest.

An epic quest that perhaps is doomed to failure.

But I'm still there.

I feel like I'm sitting in that tent and with not much left to give, but I'm still there reading it for you.

I don't even know what episode this is anymore, They've become too many to count.

But sit back.

I hope you're painting and enjoying yourself as I read further on into the book.

Before I start, I must say I went to Boil on the weekend.

First time I've been to Boil.

Enjoyed it.

It was good.

It was only there for a little while, but it was nice to see some faces, you know, and some Pats on the back.

People who are enjoying the series.

Of course.

I have a little time, so I'll read as far as I can.

At some point, on the wall behind my microphone, you may hear some water as my wife takes a shower, but do not let that image distract you, for I will be reading probably about Chaos Dwarves at that point.

Sit back my friends.

Here we go.

We are starting on page 101 of this mighty tomb and the subject is Wood Elves.

On page 100 there's a beautiful image of a a war dancer, what looks like Scarlock of the Wood Elf Rangers and a a Wood Elf wizard for want of a better word.

I'll start getting into gear here.

All in beautiful bright colours of the 5th edition.

Great image you don't see that often.

I think it was on the the book cover.

And then we start with wood elves with a nice picture of a wood elf in a green cloak with a yellow a yellow skirt I want to say, and blue tights, which is quite elaborate and ostentatious I think for the forest.

But here we go.

The Wood Elf realm of Athaloren, in the heart of the Lauren Forest, is all that remains of the once numerous elven colonies of the Old World.

Thousands of years ago, when the elves and dwarves fought their long and bitter war, most of those colonies were destroyed.

Many plowed elf cities fell into ruin, including the great ports of Torre Alesi, where the Britonian city La Aguila now stands.

The Parting The Elves left the Old world to face new troubles at home in the land of Uthwan, where civil war was brewing between the High Elves and the Dark Elves.

However, not all the elven colonists abandoned the colonies.

A few refused to do so and retreated instead into the vast forests of Lorren.

The people of the Wood Wood Elves are physically identical to their cousins the High Elves.

They are tall, graceful in all their movements and extremely agile.

The bow is their principal weapon, although they are not afraid of hand to hand fighting as they are very skilled warriors.

They prefer not to wear much armour so they can move as quickly as possible through the dense woods.

Over the centuries they have grown into a distinct and independent people.

They have relinquished all former ties with Uthwan and its Phoenix Kings and have chosen to tread their own path of wisdom and natural law, The Woodland Realm.

Today the would have shun contact with other races and show no mercy to those who invade their Woodland Realm or who cause malicious damage to the ancient trees.

The elves have grown to love the trees and The Woodlands, and have learned to live alongside the spirits of nature and the magical principles of the land.

They have distorted the space around their realm by means of strange enchantments, so that it is almost impossible to enter Athalorin without the leave of the Wood elves themselves.

Any who wander unwelcome into the Greenwoods soon meet with an untimely end, and few that enter with malicious intent ever leave alive the elven gods.

As they took to their new lives, the elves built shrines to the ancient elf gods Kernos and Isha, the Wild Hunter and the Earth Mother.

The majors discovered places in the forest where the magic was strongest, and they set stones to fix the magic and contain it safely.

As the elves made new shrines and uncovered new sources of magic, the forest itself seemed to respond as if the primeval spirits were being called forth from the trees and the stones.

The king and queen in the Wood.

From the oldest tree in the forest, the Oak of Ages came forth, the king and queen in the wood to rule over the elves in the outside world.

Stories began to circulate of the magical realm of the King and Queen.

In the Wood, Gods made flesh to rule over the land of Athalorin.

Few dared to enter the woods, whilst in faraway lands, the very name of Lauren was enough to conjure images of sorceress deception and mysterious power.

There's a box of text here as well.

Though the Wood Elves are generally distrustful of other races, the King and Queen of the Wood and the King of Bretonia swore eternal friendship many centuries ago.

The people of Britonia who live nearer to the forest have learned to respect its spirits and leave harvest gifts of bread and ripe fruit by the edge of the woods.

For the fairy folk, as they call the elves, not the Tullwith Tig as we would call them that in Wales.

Just having a drop of tea my friends.

They've already painted some of my figures from Boyle.

Got a a war games foundry dwarf wizard.

Now that's a weird thing, isn't it?

You don't see that often And a very, very old style minotaur, which is a quite awful figure actually, but it's quite nicely.

I feel it looks quite good in a very, very old school way.

I'll have to put a picture up for you.

Here we go.

The next page shows the Wood Elf army.

It's graded it as A to L, showing different figures.

There's a wonderful picture of the dragon there.

There's some eagles flying in from the trees, the war dancers at the front, some of the plastic arches.

And then we've got special rules and the troop type.

The stats.

Movement 5.

Weapons got 4, both got 4, Strength 3, Topless 3/1, Moon Initiative 6, attacks one, leadership 8.

And then we've got the Champion, the Hero of the Lord as usual, then the Wood Elf Mage, the Mage Champion, the Master Mage, and the Mage Lord.

And here are the special rules.

Woods.

Wood Elves are born in The Woodlands and have the ability to move quickly through wooded territory.

Wood Elves therefore suffer no move penalty when moving through woods and archery.

The Wood Elves make bows of extraordinary power and use them with a skill that even the elves of Otwan cannot match.

To represent this, all Wood Elves armed with longbows can shoot 6 inches further than any ordinary and than ordinarily yes, and have a range of 36 rather than 30.

I remember that rule.

Then we have an old 90s style map of the Forest of Lauren, the realm of the Wood Elves, and I'll read through some of the places that have been highlighted for us.

The blade of woe.

That's nice, isn't it?

Where do you live?

I live in the Glade of Woe.

Is it nice?

Not really.

It's the Glade of Woe.

The Glade of Woe is a fell dark place where the Wood Elves lead the unwary to their doom.

It is also the place where wood elved mages gather for their secret councils.

Then we have the wild hearth forms the western border of the Forest realm, with stone Cairns engraved with warning signs indicate the actual border.

The wood from the Tree of the Ewgroves is much valued by the Wood elves, who use it to fashion their bows and magical staves.

But that doesn't fit, does it?

Because all the others are places and you've just got that then sort of thrown in there.

It was like a fact, a fun fact.

Oh.

Every year when the winter arrives and life begins to leave the forest, the semi divine king and queen who preside over the realm appear to die.

Then they are entombed within the Oak of ages, incarnated inside the tree until the arrival of spring when they emerge fully regenerated.

It was the Forest of Lauren which most attracted the elves as a place to live and hide in.

The reason for this was that the forest had remained almost untouched since the beginning of the world.

Orcs and goblins had not yet found their way into the wood and foul monsters were seldom, if ever encountered.

The Wood Elves settled within the wood and appeased the woodland spirits, who recognised the elves as friends and allies and would help protect the forest against invaders such as dwarves and orcs and goblins.

The Grey Mountains of a large eastern mountain range that separates the Wood Elves from the Empire.

If a brave and adventurous Woodhouse ventures through the old and gnarled pine glades into the rocky foothills, he may just be able to befriend and win the trust of the great eagles and warhawks that live in the rugged mountain crags, the Meadow Glades.

They are home to herds of mighty wild horses, prized by the kindred of Equus as steeds and the Kings.

Glade is a vast and awesome blade surrounded by ancient oak trees.

This is where the King and the Queen of the Wood hold court and preside over their realm.

The ash Groves are found along the banks of the Upper Grismary.

Here the ash trees grow very thick and are almost impenetrable.

Their wood from these trees is used by the glade guards to fashion their spear shafts.

Who?

Now we've got a couple of pages of the elven figures.

I've never liked the Kernos figure.

It was a very strange.

I'd love to own it now.

But yeah, it was a strange scaled monster, wasn't it?

There's a picture of it here with the vampire Lord van Karsten.

And also you've got the tree man, you've got some orcs, you've got the the dragon again.

And there's a little bit of text which I'll read for you.

During the ancient wars between the elves and Dwarves, the Dwarves felled many of the Trees of Lauren to fuel their machines and build their engines of war, and some would say to spite the elves.

The elves were shocked and angered by this cold hearted destruction perpetrated by the harsh race who loved only fire, metal and hard stone.

In those far off days, some elves took it upon themselves to live in The Woodlands and take every opportunity to ambush the dwarfs.

Over the years these guardians became permanent forest dwellers and earned the trust and friendship of tree men and dryads.

From that day to this, the Wood Elves have distrusted the dwarves and cursed them for the desecration of the forests.

And then war dancers are fantastically agile and swift, even for members of a race whose grace and speed are legendary.

The frantic dances of the elves are physically demanding beyond human endurance offering offer, often lasting for many days and nights in battle.

The War Dancers used their amazing skills to the full, leaping over their enemy, darting away from the deadly blows with lightning speed, and striking with their weapons before their foe has time to react.

And that's it for the elves.

We're on to the undead.

So that was a quick one, but a lot of detail in there.

Good as well, wasn't it?

I like the the thought of having an army that was solely based within the woods.

Lost to space and time if you like.

A place where few dared to tread and they were always a hard army to face.

They really were.

It's not good radio, is it?

Drinking tea?

The undead.

That famous picture there of the the vampire Lord and the skeleton grinning at us.

And that knight in golden armour which reminds me of the golden Cape of Mould, which is an old Welsh legend which you will find on my podcast Time Between Times.

There's an episode of it there and I'm sure you could probably find it on YouTube where I talk all about that very gold Cape.

But enough of that for now.

But maybe later.

The undead.

An undead army is a horrific thing to behold.

Hordes of dead walking resolutely forward, bones rattling dry, flesh creaking, corroded war gear scraping and clanking.

The smell of death hangs over the army like a cloud of contagion.

The air is full of grave dust and residues smell of mummified flesh.

Spirits prowl like shadows amongst the ranks of powerful wraiths, insubstantial ghosts and whites plucked from their Stony tombs.

The skies darken with the tattered wings of carrion, and the earth shakes under the tread of skeleton warriors, zombies, mummies and other repulsive undead creatures.

The Restless Lands It is scarcely any wonder that the dead do not rest easily in their tombs.

The Warhammer world is steeped in magic, and everywhere there is magic there is the power to change and undermine nature.

In places where sorcerers power is inexplicably strong, there are many undead creatures that roam at night or gather into the cold comfort of their tombs.

In the Southlands, such a place is the land of the dead, the ancient realm of Decraka.

In the Empire, the province of Sylvania has an evil reputation, and in ages past its vampire accounts waged wars against the rest of the Empire.

Then there is the cursed city of Mussilon, the zombie haunted swamps of scaled Blight and the ancient tombs of the Grey Mountains.

The Barrow Hills of the Border Princess is a land of dread and all living creatures avoid that where possible.

The Lords of Death Throughout mankind's history, there have been necromancers, vampires and leeches which have called to arms great armies of undead.

There is none more powerful than Nagash, the Supreme Lord of the Undead, who rests today within the sarcophagus in Nagisha.

Nagishiza, the deadly master of an evil empire that stretches into the Old World and beyond.

It was Nagash, whose great spell of awakening brought many foul creatures from their graves, including the Dread Tomb Kings of Kemri.

But there are others who have striven to overthrow the living world and make themselves its undisputed Lord in death.

Leechmaster Heinrich Kemler and LED a horde of skeletons, zombies, ghouls and wraiths that poured down from the Highlands of the Grey Mountains, destroying all in their wake.

Ark in the Black arose from his tomb, the crush through the enemies of his mast in a gash over many long years.

Harry the Southlands in the Wars of Death.

All wars are wars of death, aren't they?

It's quite profound that, isn't it really.

It was really quite profound there.

Skeletons Skeleton warriors carry rusted swords and splintered Spears.

Their war gear is ranked with grave Mammou.

Grave mould and tattered rags cling to their bones.

They are bidden from whence they lie beneath the battlefields of the world to fight once more for the masters of death.

Zombies Zombies are rotted corpses brought back to life by his foul sorceries.

Their flesh hangs in strips on their bodies, and their clothes are caked with blood and filth.

They are animated by magical powers, and defeat destroys them, breaking the magic that eliminates them, that animates them.

Sorry, ghouls.

Ghouls are shambling and cowardly creatures, a descendant of cannibals, driven mad by tainted, fresh and terrible knowledge of their own evil deeds.

Ghouls live amongst the dead, feeding upon corpses, sometimes attacking the living for the warm flesh that they crave.

In that dread desert, beneath the moon's pale gaze, the dead men walk.

They haunt the dunes in that breathless, windless night.

They brandish their weapons in mocking challenge to all life.

And sometimes, in ghastly, dreary, dry voices, like the rustling of of seer leaves, they whisper one word they remember from life, the name of the ancient dark master.

They whisper the name Nah gosh.

Special rules.

Skeletons in combat Skeletons cannot be broken in hand to hand combat and never take break tests if defeated.

Instead, their defeat weakens their magic, and for each point to which they lose, one extra skeleton is removed.

Pursuit.

If their enemies flee, then ghouls will not pursue.

But stop to feed upon the corpses or explore their remains.

Explore their remains, explore their remains.

It says they will do nothing until they stop feeding.

They will automatically stop feeding if charged by an enemy.

They will also stop feeding on the D6 roll of four or more if they are enemy within 12 inches at the start of their turn.

If no enemy are within 12, the ghouls will continue to feed indefinitely like an all you can eat buffet ghouls In combat.

Ghouls are so cowardly they will always flee if beaten in combat.

No brake test is required as they are assumed to have failed.

Gosh Fear Undead cause fear in their enemies as described by the Warhammer rule book.

Zombies In combat, a unit of zombies is utterly destroyed if it fails a brake test.

In hand to hand combat, the magical bonds that animated are broken and the corpses fall lifelessly to the ground.

Immune to Psychology Undead are not affected by psychology of any kind and are therefore immune to fear, terror, panic, and all other psychology as described in the rule book.

Some stats Necromancer Web skill 4 Bo skill Web skill 4 Bo skill 4 strength 3 captains 3 wounds 1 initiative 3, attacks 2 Lead debate Necro champion Necromaster Necro Lord Skeletons Weapon skill Movement 4 Weapon skill 2 Bo skill 2 strength 3 captains 3 wounds 1 initiative 21 attack and five leadership zombies very similar but with no bow skill there.

And ghouls are weapons skill 2, but they've got toughness 4, so that makes them kind of good and they also have two attacks.

We have a photograph of the undead army here with all those very, very of their time undead miniatures which look great, actually some under skeleton cavalry, skeleton Archers who bought them a unit of 6 mummies.

So unit of ghouls.

Amusing.

Another unit of mummies.

Somebody likes the mummies.

The four horse chariot.

Yeah, great stuff there.

And we have a nice map here of the land of the dead.

Land of the dead.

It's even darker than the Glade of Woe, isn't it?

Nagishiza, known as the Cursed Pit, is the home of Nagash, the Lord of Death.

Carved out from the living rock of Crippled Peak.

Each of its four giant gates is guarded by the deadliest of war machines.

Deep in the bowels of the city is the throne room of Nagash, where the supreme Necromancer plots is conquest of the world.

The Sour Sea is a foul Bay of polluted.

What you'd expect, nothing less, is a foul Bay of polluted water which runs into the Bitter Sea.

Ages ago, a great chunk of warpstone plummeted into crippled peak, shattering the mountain.

Since then, years of water and wind erosion have caused warpstone dust to seep into the waters, poisoning them forever.

Kemri is the birth place of Nagash and was the mightiest of the ancient Necrarkan cities.

Nagash seized control of Kemri and set about conquering the rest of the land.

Today, the city teems with unquiet spirits and the restless dead who wander mindlessly about its deserted streets under the baleful shadow of the Black Pyramid of Nagash.

Did you hear that?

Oh spooky.

The Dissolution of Nagash is a parched desert littered with the wind polished bones of a forgotten army that fell in battle against Nagash centuries ago.

On certain nights, it is said that the restless spirits of the slain rise up and reenact their defeat, cursed by the Gash to remember their failure every time the full baleful glow of Mausleb is seen in the sky.

Such is the fate of the foolish that they believe that he can storm the gates of Nagashizar.

I don't think they can.

We have a couple of pages then of the undead range as it was at the time.

There's the the vampire on the manticore, some zombies, the gash.

He never had a great figure, did he?

I don't think he has in whole history of Warhammer had a great figure.

He looks a bit like Ronald MacDonald in this one.

By the end we let it go.

I still would like that figure.

I wonder if Josh would paint it for me.

OK, Chaos Dwarves.

Yes.

Oh, it's an unusual bit of Chaos Dwarf art that I haven't seen before.

Well, probably have seen, but it's not that familiar to me.

It's of the Great Cauldron and a Chaos Dwarf sorcerer casting something into the cauldron with a warrior behind him and a bull Centaur.

OK, looking forward to this one.

There you go.

Let me just have a drop of my tea.

I started buying vintage Star Wars figures graded in little cases.

It's a really expensive hobby, but I'm looking at them as I as I record this and they give me a lot of joy just seeing them there from my childhood.

If you want, I'll do a little a little recording about them.

Probably not on the Crown of Command because it's not Warhammer at all, but they're just looking at me while I drink my tea.

Agreed.

Over there.

I agreed on Chaos Dwarves many years before the time of Man.

The ancestors of the Dwarves moved amongst the spine of the old World's Edge Mountain, driven northwards by their lust for the secrets of rock and metal.

Many settled in mines and caverns beneath the mountains, but others, the most ambitious, pushed further and further northwards until they reached the upland plateau they called the Great Skull Land or Zorn Uskal in the tongue of the Dwarves, the Parting.

Here there was a dividing of the clans.

Some dwarves despaired at finding anything worthwhile in the cold and barren north, and turned back to join the growing communities of the World's Edge Mountain.

Others, the bravest and most foolhardy, turned to the east, then made their way southwards along the bleak mountains of Morn and were never heard of again.

The Northern lands were swallowed in the time of Chaos and their kin believed them destroyed, but in this the Dwarves of the West were mistaken.

Dwarves have great resistance to the power of Chaos, and they were not destroyed, but twisted and filled with evil energy.

They became the Chaos Dwarves, or to use the term which they call themselves the Dawi Shazar, which means the Dwarves of the Place of Fire, the Tower of Fire and Desolation.

The Chaos Dwarves discovered a land rich in mineral wealth and raised a mighty city to rule over it.

This huge and monstrous place is Zar na Grund, the Tower of Fire and Desolation.

That's my address to you on the post code.

Fashioned when great Obsidian and stained with a red glow of 1000 diabolic furnaces.

Where dwarves shunned magic, the Chaos Dwarves embraced it and became mighty sorcerers, the creators of arcane machinery and horrific engines of destruction.

They raised their city in the shape of a mountain, rising tier upon tier to its summit, and at the top they built a temple to the evil bull shaped God Hashut, the father of Darkness.

The plundering of the land around their dark city.

The Chaos Wharf sunk mines into the earth, delving deep into the rock and filth in search of the treasures that lay below.

They built engines down in the depths, using steam power generated by the heat of the rocks themselves.

They dunked for coal and piled it high into black mountains.

They drilled for oil and tar and made open pits all over the land in which to store it.

In the mountains they quarried for stone and built highways to connect their lands together so that the plundered riches of the earth might flow all the faster into gargantuan city.

Today, the Chaos Dwarves rule a land of darkness, smoke, and industry like Port Talbot.

Vast numbers of slaves toil in the Tower of Zarnagrand and in the Plain of Zarduk, outnumbering the Chaos Dwarves themselves many thousands of times over.

The Chaos Dwarves belong to one of the Chaos Dwarves sorcerers, and they are his subjects and his kinsmen, bonded by ties of blood loyalty which Chaos Dwarves deem unbreakable.

Each sorcerer commands his own armies, and ultimately they owe their fealty to the oldest of their member, the ancient High Priest Astrogoth, For Chaos Dwarves Revere age and wisdom as keenly as other dwarves.

Conquest.

Chaos Dwarves make war principally to take captives, because they depend upon slaves to keep their city and industry going.

Bands of Chaos Dwarves will journey for hundreds of miles to raid orc or goblin strongholds in the Mountain of Morn.

When they conquer a tribe, they take back as many slaves as possible.

Great long lines of them are shackled together and driven before the masters of Zana Grund.

Roving bands sometimes reach as far as the eastern slopes of the World's Edge Mountains.

At the pinnacle of their city is the Temple of Hashout, the Father of Darkness.

Within the temple, its guardians perform bloodthirsty rites, throwing captives into cauldrons of boiling lead, to the echoing laughter of the Chaos 2 of sorcerers.

On top of the temple stands the hollow iron statue of Hashout, whose belly contains A blazing furnace so that the God blows bright with fiery heat.

And again we have the traditional special rules armour.

Chaos Dwarves are sturdy creatures that can bear the weight of armour more easily, and fragile humans and other races.

A Chaos Dwarf therefore has a move rate of three, regardless of any armoury wears.

Pursuit and flee.

Cursed dwarves are not particularly fast, even in the frantic running combat of close close pursuit.

To represent this, they flee and pursue.

1 less than other troops.

2 D 6 -.

1 rather than two D6 KS Dwarf movement 3, Weber skill 4, Bow skill three, Strength 3, Toughness 4, Wounds 1, Initiative 21, Attack and Leadership 9.

And then a picture of the KS Dwarf army.

It's of it's time, isn't it?

But there's something glorious about it.

There's a Lamassu in this, but not a Bull Taurus.

Can't it come out when they first did this?

There's a lot of Black Hawks in it.

Hobgoblins.

I love those hobgoblin figures.

And lots of backbangers.

Big fans of black black banners.

A map of the Empire of the Cursed Dwarves.

The city of Zarnagrand looms above the Plain of Tsar, casting a baleful shadow against the blasted wasteland.

High above the smelting furnaces at the base of the ziggurat are found the temples of Hashut, where thousands of helpless slaves are sacrificed each day to satisfy the blasphemous whims of the Dark Father of the Cursed Dwarves.

Those captured by the Kier Swarves had spared death can be assured of one of two fates.

Either they will spend the rest of their days in the hellish mines of Gorgoth, or they will toil endlessly in the quarries of Gash Kadrak.

Beneath the merciless whips of the hobgoblin slave masters.

The refuse of 1000 years of labour fills the plain of Czar.

Here, the land is broken and tortured, a twisted shadow of its former self.

Pits of molten tar and rivers of burning oil Stew the landscape like open wounds, while massive stockpiles of coal scab over treacherous ground, festering in the sweltering heat.

And amidst the ruin of the dark lands of the Tower of Gorgrove pierces the horizon like an Obsidian dagger.

Many years ago, the Kirst Dwarfs discovered rich metal deposits beneath the plateau and established Gorcroft as a mining colony.

Today, Gorgoth is a slave labour camp where those unfortunate enough to have survived Chaos Dwarf raids spend the rest of their days toiling in hellish furnaces.

And we've got 2 pages of all the miniatures here.

Wonderful miniatures, actually.

Really, really different.

And the bolt centre is here, but very, very different to anything else that was around at the time.

In fact, there's a picture here of a dark elf on a cold one fighting the chaos to off Lord and Bull Taurus.

And the figure style couldn't be more different.

It was a real changing of the guard, if you like, which was quite incredible at the time.

Oh, right, there's one more race and it's like, it's almost like I can see the end of this, but it's an end I'm not going to reach.

I don't know.

But anyway, Scaven, the last race Scaven.

In the distant past, rats infesting some decaying ruin are thought to a fed upon a mighty source of magic power.

The power was a substance called Warp Stone, solidified fragments of raw sorcery formed during the time of Chaos.

Under it's unwholesome influence, the scuttling vermin mutated, growing in size and intelligence into the vile Scaven Scaven Blight.

The Scaven quickly spread across the world, establishing settlements in the sewers beneath unsuspecting cities and invading underground strongholds from below.

They have created a vast and intricate web of tunnels that spreads across the world.

An equally complex network of spies and agents informs the Scraven of the enemy's plans, and at the centre of the web lies the capital of this under Empire, the vast sprawling city of decay called Scravenblight.

This most secret and vile of places lies deep in the treacherous marshes of Northern Thaile.

With their heightened intellect and humanoid bodies, the Scaven have learnt to use Warpstone to fuel their corrupt sorceries and to create weapons of awesome power.

Warpstone is vital to the Scaven, they depend on it to fend and drive their civilization.

It forms a vital part of their foul ceremonies and the worship of their God, the Horned Rat.

The Under Empire, The insidious spread of Skaven continues tirelessly and unceasingly, gnawing at the roots of civilization like a cancer.

They seek to bring corruption and decay to the old world, causing the downfall of all civilized races so they can feed upon the ruin and dominate all living creatures.

The Skaven Under Empire spreads apace on the Horned Rat grows in power every day, though for the most part he sleeps awaiting the call from his children that will awake him and bring down the world of mortals to feed on their decaying flesh.

When the Horned One rouses the Skaven, they erupt into an intense period of warfare and strife, laying waste of towns and cities and orgies of destruction.

In those times, not only do the Skaven waves war against other races, but amongst themselves as well.

The slow, the weak and the foolish are set upon and torn apart as the Scraven race purges itself of its weaker members and makes slaves of the defeated Scraven Clans.

The Scraven are divided into Clans, of which Warlord Clans are by far the most populous.

Each Warlord Clan has a pecking order, ranging from the lowliest weakling slaves to the most powerful warriors, and ultimately to the Scraven Warlord, who is cruel and cunning, master of the entire clan.

Life for all Scraven is marked by constant squabbles and fights for supremacy.

These individual clashes are fought with tooth and claw or knives.

They are few fatalities, but nearly all Scraven are scarred from these fights, many having lost an eye or a ear.

Skaven crippled in fights can expect only to be summarily dispatched by the victor, and Skaven have many slaves, many of them Skaven beaten in combat, but some are other races defeated in battle.

Skaven slaves occupy the most miserable position in Skaven society, often being used in dangerous experiments or as cannon fodder in battle.

Their lives are brutish, painful but mercilessly short.

All decent folk find the common rat repulsive, A harbinger of disease.

It scavenges on our waist, heaps and frightens our children.

How immeasurably worse than this is the fowl Scavenge, standing on his hind legs in a fowl parody of a human.

Rats as tall as men and blessed with the most vile intellect and cunning.

They are the dark side of our soul, come to destroy us for our sins.

Albrecht of noon.

And now we have the traditional 2 pages of skaving figures.

The screaming bell, the assassins, the Ratogas all here.

Never had a skaving army.

I always never fancied painting them, but they are actually very very good.

Some rules here the rule of the strong.

Within the greater clan structure the story is the same.

Weaker clans are dominated by stronger ones and any which become vulnerable are quickly enslaved by their peers.

The four most powerful clans are Clan Mulder, Spooky, Clan Eshin, Clanskaya, and Clan Pestilans.

These great clans are the masters of the Skaven and the rulers of their under empire and have a complex ascendancy over the struggling mass of the ordinary warlord clans.

Each of the Greek clans has its own weird armaments, armaments and foul methods of waging war.

Clan Moulder are powerful beast masters and used warp stone to mutate breeds of ferocious fighting beasts.

Clan Eshing are feared as assassins and stealthy murderers active within and under the cities of men.

Wherever there is squalor, the adepts of Clan Esching can be found, poisoning human food and water supplies and stirring up the rat packs.

Klanskaya are known as Warlock Engineers, masters of the insane blend of magic and science which is produced, amongst other things, the dreaded Warped Fire Throwers and the equally devastating Poisoned Wind.

The Clan Pestilence are also known as the Plague Monks.

They are the disciples of disease and dedicate themselves to spreading pestilence and plague with their morbid energy.

The 13 Lords of Decay As the Skaving clans are ruled over by the 13 Lords of Decay.

They include the leaders of the greatest cities and fortresses of the Skaving, as well as some who have led the reclusive life, studying their ways of magic and death.

There are 12 rather than 13 Skaven Lords of Decay, the full number being completed by the Horned Rat themself.

The Council of 12 meet together occasionally and at other times maintain contact via magical means between them.

They Co ordinate all the activities of the Skaven across the world and spread the word of their master, the Horned Rat.

It is said that any Skaven can challenge one of the Lords of Decay and gain a place on the Council of 12 by defeating him, but it's also said that the current Lords of Decay have held their positions for over 400 years.

Sorcery The mysterious Scaven Lords known as the Grey Seers, are the servants of the Lord of Decay and carry their instructions to the clans.

There are many Grey Seers that occupy an elevated position amongst the Scaven, concerning themselves solely with the important of the most important of matters.

Gray Seers are sorcerers of great power, using Warpstone to boost their magic powers, and may be found leading hordes of Scraven clans into battle on the battlefield.

Scheme rely on weight of numbers and port and magic to overcome their foes.

Regiments of Clan Rat Warriors wearing dark, ragged clothing and scavenged armour swarm forward in a squeaking, chittering tide, supported by the insanely dangerous warp stone weapons of Clan Skaia and the mutant beasts of Clan Moulder.

The Clan Esh in ambush and weary foes and the frenzied Plague Monks squeak their devotion to the Horned Rat as they hurl themselves into their foe.

Individual Scraven warriors are vicious but cowardly creatures, referring to strike their foes from behind as they sleep, but in large packs or gangs they can be driven in a fanatical state and make them oblivious to casualties and danger.

In such state, they are virtually unstoppable.

Scraven armies, when they appear openly, are always massive in size, and often overwhelm their enemies by a sheer weight of numbers.

Special rules leadership individually, individually, cowardly Scraven become increasingly confident in numbers.

To represent this, Scraven Regiments add their close Combat Rank bonus to their leadership for all tests that use it.

Scaven therefore receive plus one leadership at each rank after the first to a maximum of +3.

See the close Combat section of the rule book for a complete definition.

If Scaven are fleeing or skirmishing, no rank bonus would normally apply, so they receive no bonus.

If their rank bonus is lost because they're charged in the flank or the rear, then their leadership bonus is lost.

2 The combat rank bonus and leadership rank bonus are always the same.

Remember, the maximum possible leadership score is 10.

No bonus.

We take that score above this troop type movement 5 Web skill three, Bo Skill three, Strength 3 Toughness 3 Wounds 1.

Initiative 41.

Wound, one Attack.

Sorry.

Leadership 5 Champion, Chieftain, Warlord, Warlock, Engineer, Warlock, Champion, Warlock, Master, and Gracia.

And there, my friends, we're up to page 123, 123.

All the races have been described.

All the means in which to make your battlefields have been read out.

All the tips on painting and building and using Raisin Bran boxes to build hills have been discussed.

But still, like a cursed cur, there is more to come.

Pages on monsters, pages on many other things.

Before we reach the end of the book, if it can be reached for, it is said that this is a book that will never end.

It has 152 pages.

152 pages before we reach that photograph of The Perrys playing on their massive table in their front room, surrounded by Gottrick, Felix and other notaries.

But will we get there?

It's a quest my friends.

It's like taking the 1 ring to Mount Doom.

It's like trying to Rin rid Crin of the Draconians.

It's like the time of Troubles in the Forgotten Realms.

It's like the time of the three empires of the End Times.

Well, not the end times, because that actually had an end.

The endless times.

But anyway, thank you for listening.

I hope you enjoyed my company.

I've sort of enjoyed it.

If you'd like to buy me a coffee, go to coffee.com/owen Statement.

It would be much appreciated.

I'm running out of tea banks.

In the meantime, take care my friends, See you soon.

What's that?