This is a Dark Age A Bloody Age
An Age of Battle and Death And of The World's Ending A
t the heart of the Old World sprawls the Empire, the largest and most powerful of the human realms. Known for its engineers, sorcerers, traders and soldiers, it is a land of great mountains, mighty rivers, dark forests and vast cities. And from his throne in Altdorf reigns the Emperor Karl Franz, sacred descendant of the founder of these lands, Sigmar, and wielder of his magical warhammer Ghal Maraz.
To the south lies Bretonnia, a land of honour and martial tradition. Its knights, the epitome of chivalry, are brave and resolute, resplendent in their armour, prepared to mete out justice to evil-doers with lance and sword. They worship the Lady of the Lake, noble goddess of these fair lands who would grant her blessing to her beloved champions.
Bretonnia is a feudal, traditional land of Knights and Peasants. The Knights of Bretonnia live by a series of vows - these vows uphold the virtues of honour and chivalry. To lose honour is just about the worst thing imaginable to a Knight of Bretonnia, who would rather die with honour than live without it. Individual heroism is very important to the Bretonnian Knight, and tales of Paladins fighting Dragons and of Heroes facing off against countless foes are the kind of things the people of Bretonnia dream of.
The High Elves' existence is one of eternal battle, fought with a courage and skill that only they posses. But it is a war that, little by little, is being lost. The High Elves fade, whilst their enemies multiply, and each death is a loss the soldiers of Ulthuan can ill afford. Yet it is not in the High Elves' proud nature to pass peacefully from history. When the Phoenix King issues the call to war, his people gladly answer. Disciplined spearmen form up in silence, their brilliant banners of lion, horse and eagle fluttering in the wind. Haughty knights ride alongside, their steed reacting instantly to unspoken command. Mages prepare intricate spells, archers gauge the gusting wind and , in the skies above, Dragons and Phoenixes wheel and soar, ready to fight to the last alongside their Elven allies. Let the servants of destruction beware.
In the chill land of Naggaroth lies a realm steeped in malice. This is the home of the Dark Elves, the outcast children of Ulthuan. They watch the world with malevolent eyes, knowing it is their birthright to rule and the destiny of others to serve - if they are permitted to survive at all. Yet the Dark Elves know that they cannot claim their glorious inheritance whilst the hated High Elves endure. They are two halves of a race sundered long ago, separated by the greatest betrayal ever to occur in all the ages of the world. Even should every other land bow to their rule, the Naggarothi will not rest until they have brought ruin to Ulthuan, toppled its temples and driven the High Elves into the sea. On that day, the Witch King of Naggaroth will finally claim a throne long denied to him, and the rule of the Dark Elves will spread to every corner of the world.
Since the days of their creation, the Lizardmen have been at the forefront of the battle for the world's survival. Their armies are anchored by savage warriors spawned for the sole purpose of war and augmented with titanic reptilian beasts whose tread shakes the earth. Their enigmatic leaders are powerful wizards and wield magics beyond the ken of mere mortals. While much has been lost over the long ages of warfare against the many foes of order, the lizardmen still fight on - unleashing their cold-blooded savagery upon any who would stand in the way of their sacred mission. As carved upon the pyramid blocks, this is the tale of Lizardmen and their defence of the world.
As the time of Wars draw ever onward, the world needs heroes like never before.
