Warlord 4th Edition CCG - the epic fantasy card game

After finally being able to talk a few minutes to Laurence and getting our ideas for the story behind Warlord on the same page, here is another fruit of Laurence’s labor. Enjoy!

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by Laurence Sinclair

Of course the city is quiet. That’s part of their charm, the appeal that lures people in. What I’ve been longing for these last few months.

Those scouts that I’ve been running with, they wouldn’t understand. They could identify dozens of different animals in a forest from tracks alone, tell which fruits aren’t poisonous and move through the trees as if invisible. One day in a city and they’re lost, though.

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The firestone brazier had burned down entirely. There hadn’t been enough fuel left to keep it stoked. Outside the tent Alaric could hear the first sounds of his people breaking down the camp for the next day’s march. In the darkness the new king sat straight on his camp stool with his fist closed around the symbol of Kor Kohn had given to him as the tent flaps flew back and a dwarf stumbled in stiffly, his ironcloth armor crusted in frozen dirt. It looked like winter was coming swiftly in these mountains. (more…)

The firestone brazier barely lit the shabby tent, nor could it keep the cold at bay beyond preventing the water from freezing on the chests, table and earthenware. Alaric slouched on his camp stool looking at the symbol of their deity, Kor, hanging on an otherwise empty valet stand just within arm’s reach. Kohn had given it to him, asking him to wear it constantly, to drive his dark thoughts away.

Alaric wasn’t prepared for that, yet. Those images, full of fire and pain, his body flayed open and healed again, the hypnotic eyes of Ter-Soth’s torturers, through all the headaches there was something almost comforting, familiar in them. He didn’t have to think, just to resist. Now, Kohn wanted him to take his father’s place. To lead what was left of his people into a bleak future, to step into ironcloth boots large enough to be Hellbringer’s. It was so much easier to stand valiantly before the enemy and die. In vain, Alaric thought moodily.

Just as a new wave of painful images, full of fiery shadows dancing along molten rock and searing lances began to roll through his head, his scarred hand snaked towards the symbol and grasped it in a steady grip. The dangerous throbbing subsided and instead an image of his father appeared, chiding his brothers when he still was a toddler. „No heir of mine will ever shirk in his duty, he needs be as steadfast as we are as a people. You are sons of Hember and you do your duty even if it means that you perish!“ King Xod thundered. Alaric’s eyes cleared, grew hard and determined. Yes, the Dwarves would have a new king and a future.

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Before being enclosed in the Forgotten City of Thas-Lirith, Loki created the master piece he was hired for: The Iron Golem. It guards the ancient scrolls of lore of the Thessyrian Empire, reason enough to get past him.

Loki effectively loses his Overlord trait, when an Iron Golem is included in the deck. Meaning you can still only play one Iron Golem in a deck with him.

“Yes, I am Sorscha, last of the true Medusans. It was I that arranged your first death, and so too shall I orchestrate your second and final one. This time, face to face.”

She tipped the hood back, revealing the visage beneath, source of the glow. Tentacles writhed about her scalp in place of hair or ears, a disturbing counterpoint to the beautiful face that matched her perfect body. (more…)

“Ah yes, surprise interventions by unlikely heroes,” Malrog chuckled. “I remember them well. Even the Plane of Secrets respects tradition, I see. Well boy, what is it that brings you to your doom?”

“You killed my father,” the man replied, having finally cleaved his way through the crowd to stand before Malrog, determination personified.

Malrog closed his eye, tilting his head back. “Thank you, Nexus. Yedraw’s brat. Kerebrus, is it? Another betrayal Syne will have to answer for.”

“Silence,” Kerebrus said. “Just die.” (more…)

Each of the hooded figures was chanting, but no two of them were doing so with the same words, or even to the same rhythm. The tumble of blasphemous verses clashed discordantly, yet still the monster at the centre of the ring smiled and hummed along.

His hands - one a brutal, metal claw - were held before him, clenched tight around a twisted brass rod, its head crowned with a slowly revolving cluster of eyes, each one dripping tears of blood into the mystical sigils inscribed in the stone at the monster’s feet.

From the crowd, a silver robed elf slowly strode, his head held low in deference as he offered up a chalice, almost bubbling over with crimson liquid. The monster stooped to allow it to be poured into his mouth, greedily slurping it down. With a roar, he reared up to his full height again, screaming to the heavens and sweeping his arms wide. The elf scuttled backwards, but too slowly, as the monster brought its claw forwards, spearing several taloned fingers through the ribcage.

“I thank you for your help,” the monster grated, watching the elf twitch its last moments. (more…)