First day they come and catch everyone
Next day they leave and frightened we grieve
Third day her screams we hear in our dreams
Fourth day she rests while her children are blessed
Fifth day she feasts for the whole world does she eat
--- Childrens rhyme found scratched into the side of a burned-out house by an unknown hand

They moved through a limited world; a heavy driving snow obscuring everything but a small circle of visibility perhaps ten meters in diameter, beyond that, only darkness. A long line of shapes ghosted through the negative landscape, the small fires of their torches sputtering and flaring in the night as the snow tumbled onto the flames, sending small seething tendrils of steam writhing up into the air. Occasionally progress would halt as a torch winked off, blown out by the howling wind or smothered by the thick blanket of snow that rained down from the heavens, and, after a muttered curse, it would be re-lit and the column would move forwards once again. They were deep into the Steppes, following a confused and conflicting series of reports that arrived at the Bastion before all communication with the scouts in the North was lost.

The attack came without warning - hundreds of indistinct shapes flowing silently from the darkness to fall upon the column, the disembodied screams of the dying and the ringing of steel muffled by the soft pattering of the falling snow. Huo-Lo smiled ruefully as a branch of lightning arced downwards from the heavens, illuminating waves of demons pouring down the sides of the valley, stacked back towards the horizon. He had time to wonder what his father might think of him now, fumbling through the darkness so very far from home as the night-air around him solidified into a host of nightmarish shapes and the first demon threw itself at him, howling, its axe descending in a glittering arc until there was no more time for thought. He leaned out of the way of the clumsy blow, his foot crashing into the creatures jaw and sending it spinning away into the night. Suddenly he was through their lines and as Huo-Lo raised his head and saw what came towards him he stopped.

Behind the Demons came something else. Shrouded in darkness almighty the thing glided towards him and with it came death. Grass withered and died, disintegrating into ash as the creature’s advance pushed back a circle of decay and darkness that left the land parched and scarred. Foliage fell wetly to the ground, breaking apart under the weight of its own corruption as it withered through yellow to red to black. The trees became tortured crippled things, leaves weeping into dust, twisted branches clawing at the sky as they were folded into crumpled black cages. Ooze slid like pus from bark that cracked and split, and, as if nothing truly solid was left to them, the skeletal trees trembled at the passage of the being whose very presence stripped them to the bone. Across the battlefield the fallen Cathayans began to crackle, shrivelling into decaying, corpulent husks, their withered bodies laid out like crosses sacrificed to the encroaching darkness.

It was then, a soft counterpoint to the mournful patter of the snowfall and the incessant droning of the flies that the chanting began. A whispered, honeyed voice boring into him. Soft at first, below the range of hearing the words indistinguishable, overlapping, running into one another like a phrase half-remembered but growing louder, louder, more insistent, louder, burning through his mind like fire as the being moved towards him. Huo-Lo closed his eyes tightly as the ringing syllables pulsed through his mind, finally becoming words that he could understand.

'All the souls that were, were forfeit once, and shall be so again.'

The voice was that of a little girl. Huo-Lo opened his eyes and screamed.

Background

Zaihai Nuer was born in a small village in Northern Cathay and lived a thoroughly unremarkable life until the sickness came. She was six years old when the villagers around her started to become ill, the contagion spread rapidly, destroying the body in a matter of hours. Her mother and father among the first to die but Zaihai was too young to understand why they would not move any more and she stayed by their side, trying to wake them up until she was dragged away by the other villagers, screaming as their bodys were set aflame. Within a week everyone was dead, the soft-white winter snow settling over bloated, disfigured bodies, fingers and toes curled tightly, writhing as though they had died in agony.

Zaihai stumbled to the next village, her bare feet cut to ribbons her body half frozen in the snow. An elderly couple took her in, nursing her back to health with the last of their food, the man carving bamboo toys for her while she slept. But the sickness followed her and one by one the villagers began to die, their skin blistering and peeling back from their bloated, corpulent bodies as the air became thick with flies and other crawling carrion burst from the village's only well. It was then that Zaihai spoke for the first time, addressing the whole village in a tiny voice, begging them, pleading them to let her save them from the disease that threatened to wipe them out. They accepted to a man and the sickness vanished, the bodies of the fallen decaying rapidly into dust that danced away on the whispering wind.

Things seemed normal once more. The harvest that year was the largest ever, in defiance of the yields across the rest of the Empire and at the Harvest festival the whole village gathered to praise Zaihai, their mysterious little savior. They began to eat, the wine and the water, the rice and the fish seemingly inexhaustible. Their appetites too seemed unending as the village said not a word but ate and ate in an orgy of gluttony and excess, stuffing food into their mouths faster and faster as though they would never be satisfied. Their bodies began to swell and bloat but they kept eating, cramming more and more into their mouths until their skin began to split, their stomachs rupturing as bloated, diseased things ripped their way from the bodies like ruined butterflies emerging from a chrysalis.

Zaihai vanished from Cathay that day with her demons and shortly after the crops began to wither and fail. She vanished into the night and the Army could find no trace of her. Some say that she was the manifestation of Yaoguai, the ancient Cathayan Demon of Sickness and Gluttony that appears once every thousand years to feast and is able to raise the dead to fight at his side. Others proclaimed her the herald of Nurgle, and many who would cast their lot in with the Father of Disease flocked to her banner. The Undead fight at her side lead by the Vampire Counts of the East whose soldiers have no fear of disease and death and see instead the chance to claim (or re-claim if you believe the rumours) the Dragon Throne for themselves.

Perhaps most surprising of all was the arrival of the Black Arcs Pleasure and Pain, Deliciously Incidious andThe Reaver. Morathi, made aware of the gathering storm in the east by a daemon of Slaanesh, saw that the collapse of the Empire would lead to the weakening of the defences of Ulthaun as their despised Kin rushed to contain the spread of Chaos into the rest of the world. However, such a victory would not come without cost as should it be delivered by Zaihai, Nurgle would surely gain the upper-hand among the Dark Gods and Slaanesh would be displeased. In devious fashion, Morathi sent members of the Cult of Khaine and three Black Arcs to bolster the ranks of Zaihai's army, forcing Nurgle to share any victory with Slaanesh and increasing her chances of ending the Cathayan Empire at the same time. The alliance is a brittle thing, for while both parties want the same thing, there is little trust and no love lost between them. The Dark Elves seem immune from the wasting disease that effects those who throw in their lot with Zaihai, but who knows what promises and agreements have been made and, indeed, which ones will be kept in the years ahead.

Zaihai's return marks the arrival of Cathay's darkest hour. She rides at the head of a host of darkness the likes of which the Empire has not seen since the Going Down of the Sun, when the Barrier itself was breached. Hundreds of thousands ride at her back. The living, the dead and the dying. The air around them hums with the drone of flies and the ground under their feet withers into dust. She is coming.

GM's Note

As a player in The Anointed you are one of Zaihai's trusted generals in a position of power expected to offer advice and information and to deliver victory. The rewards are high, as is the price of failure. Your task is simply stated but less simply accomplished for Zaihai Nuer would see every light and every life extinguished in Cathay and there will be immense power and wealth as rewards should Cathay fall. Beginning behind the Barrier is no small obstacle, for only one enemy has ever breached its walls, but you ride at the head of one of the largest armies of darkness the world has ever seen and the Barrier is at its weakest now, with the famine and the invaders forcing the Army inland to guard the Emperor. Alternatively you could move Eastwards and bypass the Barrier altogether, though the Order of the Dragon Shield guards the Eastern Shore.

The Cathayan army will regard you as an immediate threat and Zaihai is known to become irrational and enraged when confronted with the flagrant and open worship of Tzeench prevalent throughout her native Cathay, a fact that may not win you many allies among the Cathayans. However, word has reached you of other armies closing in on Cathay's borders - of Greenskins and Ogres and of a vast host of Chaos Dwarves and Skaven descending from the Mountains. These would make powerful allies should you convince them to follow in your wake.

Still, despite your nefarious goals there are many individuals who would help you, many who see in the weakening of the Empire a chance for personal advancement and the accumulation of wealth. There are many as well who, should you be clever enough, can be convinced that you are the lesser of two evils, and that the enemy of an enemy, however they appear, is a friend. This may be your best method of approaching the Cathayans, until you have sufficient strength to strike a death blow to the Empire.

Let none stand before you. The world has seen enough of the simpering and weak who shy away from the darkness. Embrace it instead and let Cathay fall!