Turn V Report Roundup with Nuno M!

And here we are!

The final and fifth turn, and we saw the culmination of many narratives and hobby projects that had been building over the course of the past month or two.

And many, many characters just thrown into the jaws of death.

Oh ye brave players, we salute you.

It was a joy to see.

At this eleventh hour, it was inspiring to see how many cross-coalition collaborative narrative writings were established, and some of these narratives even came to life as models on the tabletop.

We will unleash the full reports from players, for every turn, very soon, but for now, these are some that we spotlighted for Turn 5.


Player name: GodCloud
Player character(s): General Orem of the 3rd Hammerhalian Lancers
Coalition: Ruyalar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Storytelling

General Orem, leading the 3rd Hammerhalian Lancers positioned near the heart of the anti Alti forces, smash into the ranks of Alti’s undead. Skeletons are sent flying as the two sides enter a brutal slugfest that wont end until one of them have been defeated.


Player name: (in order) Icey, Binary, Hibiki, Myaori, Grant L, LilGrunt1, Keza, Jag5853
Player character(s): (in order) Skreet Darktail, Vatol Halftail, Hibiki Fayshriek, Lady Anathene, Kykakzen Twinsurge, Kharendra Oathborn, King Tiberius Calore VIII, Thungir of the Sylfyrd Lodge
Coalition: Aurannar & Idrelec
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Writing (collaboration: Idrelec Aurannar story chain)

Part 1 – Meeting Before the Dawn Skreet offers a plan in the Dourstorm about sending explosive laden ships to crack open Iskar, but Vatol revises the plan to mostly be floating islands instead of boats.

Part 1.5 (bonus) – The Falling Sky Vatol’s diabolical scheme (ft. Skreet) comes to fruition. Using a combination of Aqshyan realmstone and a warpstone device of his own creation, he catapults a dozen floating islands at Alti’s stronghold, each carrying a gnawhole spewing liquid fire, molten lava, and, soon after, a frankly unreasonable quantity of Skaven.

Part 2 – Hibiki Fayshriek leads her Khinerai carrying cauldrons of blood to the castle Lady Fayshriek, has ordered flocks of Khinerai to carry Witch Aelf laden cauldrons of blood up to Castle Iskar. As the Khinerai carry the cauldrons, metaliths laden with skaven and warpstone explosives bombard the castle, bringing down a section of the exterior walls. Nighthaunt defenders rush to meet the Daughters as they touch down, but are thrown into disarray by bloodmist surrounding them and blinding them. Lady Fayshriek uses a crystalized heart turn the nighthuant leader to crystal.

Part 3 – Anathene creates a portal to the realm of chaos, summoning a horde of daemons to assail castle Iskar

Part 4 – The Unchained Serpent Shadir summons forth her own daemons for an assault on Alti’s castle. Bolstered by the summons of Lady Anathene of the Aurannar, including a Keeper of Secrets, the newly ascended Unchained Serpent leads the horde of daemons to both break  the castle’s defenses and distract their attention from the actions of Kharendra Oathborn.

Part 5 – Glory in Death The final battle rages on, people from all sides stand united against the great vampiric threat that plagues these lands. It is Kharendra’s point of view for the first assault, running the enemies through the meat grinder of war. It worked until Vashti appeared and rose the dead, halting the momentum go the attack.

Part 6 – Daring Proposal King Tiberius VIII, Eris Bloodwrath and their autumnal allies surge into the courtyards of Castle Iskar. While Satraps Atressa and Caradryas duel Vashti, Tiberius and Eris reap a toll of Alti’s fanatical followers, including a mad warpriest. Upon the priest’s defeat, Tiberius offers Eris the skull and speaks aloud his growing desire to be her eternal partner, awaiting her answer in the few, endless moments…

Part 7 – Battering Ram Thungir and his army work to breach the door to the throne room. They work to fight off Alti’s forces as Throm and others enter to finish the job.

Part 8 – The Storm Breaks as Throm unleashes Beshlayer At the culmination of the siege and Throm’s journey in the Prime Dominion, the hobgrot faces Alti whilst wielding the blade that killed Mithridates Besh. Through the efforts of many warriors from across the different coalitions and with the assistance of the draconith Tassakarn, Throm is ready to unleash the power of the blade. But is it enough?


Player name: StarGrimWolf91
Player character(s): Junkaboss Gorrulk of the Skrapa’z
Coalition: Aurannar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Storytelling

The Realmbreaka engine, once a proud Duardin construct, has been remade in the image of the Skrapaboyz. With platforms for da boyz to ride on, the Engine is still large enough to force its way through the Alliance of Autumn troops, potentially crushing just as many allies as enemies in its mad rush to join the battle.


Player name: Dunk
Player character(s): Knight Incantor Aneira Alcazar of the Heralds Illuminos stormhost
Coalition: Ruyalar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: arts & crafts

Knight Incantor Aneira Alacazar leads a strikeforce of Sacrosanct stormcast from the Heralds Illuminos on the assault on castle Iskar, joining allies from the Ruyalar.  The battle is fierce, with the Aneira and the Heralds facing hordes of Nighthaunt.  She fights fiercely, striking down many and casting arcane bolts in all directions. She is almost overwhelmed on the bridge to the keep when her fellow Knight Incantor, Pilar Hailfire calls down an arcane storm to engulf the swarming nighthaunt.


Player name: Mike
Player character(s): Nilmorn Dawnspite of the Amber Grove
Coalition: Dornayar
Narrative Path: The Seer Stone
Report type: Hobby

Having adapted the song taught to her by the Deepwood Grove earlier in the year (Turn 3), Nilmorn sings it out in the midst of chaos in Iscarion, turning the rage of the beasts towards the forces of Alti and the watchers in an attempt to delay them. Jumping onto the backs of several winged beasts, Nilmorn and her forces ride to the Seer Stone to ready themselves to defend it until the Idrelec can arrive with the Ring of Atrexeres.


Player name: Raschier
Player character(s): Lord Arras Danathan, of the 7th Legion of Syar
Coalition: Ruyalar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: writing

On the eve of battle Arras has a nightmare of the past, revealing his true reason for coming towards the Prime Dominion.

Arras’ regrets from Bykaal come to haunt him


Player name: Martin O
Player character(s): Order of the Crimson Dawn
Coalition: Teclandec
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Hobby

The Order of the Crimson Dawn stands ready to aid the Teclandec in their attempt to secure the Prime Dominion.


Player name: ElChapu(GM), Hibiki, Zack, Bevan
Player character(s): Mazoka Brokenjaw, Hibiki Fayshriek, Edward von Cullen of the Cadaverous Legion, Razgor Beastbreaka of the Realmhuntaz
Coalition: Idrelec
Narrative Path: The Seer Stone
Report type: Play (Soulbound)

Mazoka tells a group of Idrelec warriors to recover a lost artifact he had heard of in the tavern, the rotten pendant, capable of rotting flesh and bone to the point where It can no longer be used by necromancers. The party finally was able to not only recover the pendant but also gain a new ally, Elizabeth Bloodoath, the Derranged Queen, and her Court of Miracles (FEC)


Player name: Maps
Player character(s): Sir Davidius Mappenborough of the Collegiate Biologicus Expedition
Coalition: Dornayar
Narrative Path: The Seer Stone
Report type: writing
Davidius joins Gordun and the Pumpkinarch in assailing Elusedrod’s palace in the hopes of forestalling the dispatch of the Watchers or at least removing some of their advantage by evicting Elusedrod from the Ham Galad

Davidius faces the Watchers


Player name: Volanteth
Player character(s): Renaya Oathsworn, Satrap of Celandec (in this report)
Coalition: Celandec
Narrative Path: The Drake’s Gambit
Report type: Hobby

Eurwen decided upon going with the strike team helmed by Zod-El, Sigmund, Quet’zal  ect. She saw as Renaya came to greet them, and in her hand was Celannar’s Bite, which she handed to the team for their grave purpose.


Player name: Volde
Player character(s): Drung Drungsson, Agent of Azyr, 1st Hasfel Militia Company, “The Rovers”
Coalition: Ruyalar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Storytelling

Drung Drungsson led a small infiltration team into Castle Iskar, securing a stash of gunpowder salvaged from a previously attempted attack, and used it to breach part of the fortress, allowing easier access by Coalition forces.  Along the way, he also slew a Vargoyle and repelled a Vampire Lord.
Into the Breach


Player name: Vyre
Player character(s): Caradrya the Swift
Coalition: Teclandec
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: writing

After the death of the Stoic at what she believes was the hand of Alti, the Swift leads Sylryr and Theodra, along with some Ghur Aelves under Rygra , to certain peril. After relfecting on the last time she lost part of her soul. The Swift comes face to face with the Vampire, but her fate is not her’s to decide… (Note that I got the OK form Cai and Re6 and all three of us are ok with our characters kicking the bucket)

She Who Comes by Dawn


Player name: QuietWoods
Player character(s): Ashavohlk, Warden of Helspoint, King of the White Host
Coalition: Dornayar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: writing

Asha confronts Alti for a fight the death! It does not have to end this way, but its was too fun to write! It focuses on the lead up, and final moments of the fight, leaving the main combat ambiguous coz who knows what might happen!

An End to Nightmares


Player name: Ambercoast
Player character(s): Glotteous of the Mournful Choir
Coalition: Celandec
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Arts & Crafts

A view from the air of Castle Iskar floating over Iscarion


Player name: Alex M
Player character(s): Khoralis Doomspite of the Diretide
Coalition: Celandec
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Play (Age of Sigmar)

Khoralis and the Diretide confront a ghastly Nighthaunt processing as they join the assault against Alti. Though they suffer losses every step of the way, Khoralis rallies her followers to fight on and drive back the nightmarish ghosts.


Player name: Nixolotl
Player character(s): Rygra Ebonsmith, the Bardslayer of the Shrouded Pyre
Coalition: Teclandec
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the satraps
Report type: Hobby

Leading the spearhead of the Teclandec offensive was the Kharadron Ironclad, Golden Tradewind. The deck was occupied by a mass of bodies but the one manning the front was the focus. The Fyrequeen, from her came the boisterous sounds of pipes augmented my bizarre technologies to project the bagpipes far and wide, telling the foes of Teclandec that they were coming.


Player name: Godfather Viktor
Player character(s): Lady Laelanyel of the Shadowflames & Aef-Grimnir
Coalition: Dornayar
Narrative Path: The Coalition of the Satraps
Report type: Storytelling

As the Shadowflames prepare to leave the Prime Dominion through the Umbral Web with their loot, Alti’s Hand leads a horde of skeletons to claim the Lux Umbra. The Shadowflames fight hard to protect their gains, but are eventually overwhelmed. Battered, bruised and empty handed, they flee through the tunnels and into the safety of the Lux Umbra.
Alti’s Purge


Player name: Malthan
Player character(s): Siphius of the Bleak Host
Coalition: Celandec
Narrative Path: The Drake’s Gambit
Report type: Storytelling

In the darkness of the passageway, the Bleak Host discovers Alti’s dormant progeny sleeping in their coffins. With rotten planks, rusted nails and rare blood diseases, Siphius’ warband reintroduces Alti’s kindred to death. 


And that’s it! Now that there are no more intrigues and Narrative Path spoilers, more reports will start popping up on our Twitter feed, for your viewing pleasure.

A post with a link to ALL REPORTS from each turn will be coming very soon, so you can admire and read your fellow players’ creativity and maybe steal an idea or two.

For all the characters who met their demise this Animosity, we salute you! For those who haven’t… we hope to see them again and hear more about their exploits.
And maybe fight against them across the tabletop? Either at a live Animosity Weekender event or a Narrative Event in the future.

Stay tuned, because while The Animosity has wound down, the Community stays forever!

Article written by Nuno M

Turn 1 Report Roundup with Warboss Kurgan

As expected we received a wide variety of Reports across all Coalitions’ Narrative Paths and submission types, but the sheer volume of Turn 1 blew past campaigns out of the water, with 155 players submitting 323 Reports! By contrast, Animosity II saw 90 players submit an average of 200 reports per turn, and Animosity I had only 40 players submit about 100 reports for the entire campaign.

So, we have collected a few of our favourite submissions from Turn 1. These are all good examples of their type, but please don’t feel like you have to conform to their precedent. There is a lot of scope for originality and flexibility in the way the submissions are put together. 

What we do ask is that you tie your submission to one of your coalition’s narrative paths, at the very least by using the description field to give some context to your report. Without a direct link to a narrative path the writers will not be able to include your submission in the weekly Unfolding Narrative. Anyone who has been featured in this in the past (including me!) will be able to tell you that it is VERY satisfying to see your characters and story woven into the “official” updates.

A few people have asked us about Game Reports – we believe that playing a game and writing about the game are two separate activities. We don’t require every player to submit a battle report to prove they played a game, otherwise a lot of players wouldn’t be able to submit anything. We think setting up and playing a game is enough work on it’s own, without making you then write up a report as well.

We are not asking for proof – if you say you played a game, we believe you! The other report types are there for players who can’t play (for whatever reason) and we ask for pictures/links so that we can share what you’re doing! If you want to use Writing to submit a longform report of the game or present (captioned?) photos for Story Telling you can use the game you played as the source material – potentially getting three report types from one game!

So, on to the good stuff – these reports have been picked because they jumped out as being interesting, fun or just damned cool. This is only a tiny fraction of the good stuff though, you’ll have to wait for Nuno’s massive collated archive to see everything!

Player Character: Cpn Ketil Gorogsson

Coalition: Ruyalar

Narrative Path: Roses and Thorns

Report Type: Arts and Crafts


Player Character: Vardak, of the Great Oubliette

Coalition: Celandec

Narrative Path: Invasion of Wirenth

Report Type: Storytelling

Player Character: Mooneye the Troggboss, The Mooneye Troggherd

Coalition: Celandec

Narrative Path: Invasion of Wirenth

Report Type: Writing

A short narrative of the beach landing and assault on Wirenth in Teclandec by the Mooneye Troggherd. The Troggoths pressed up the beach, soaking up an incredible amount of Teclandec ranged fire and magic thanks to their natural regeneration. As he crawled up the beach cliffs, the Troggboss Mooneye finally got to grips with the Teclandec forces…


Player Character: Azoth Realmgorger, Steamwrought Chuglords

Coalition: Celandec

Narrative Path: Hungry Eyes

Report Type: Hobby

Azoth spearheaded the operation known as T-Day, the assault on Teclandec to establish a beachhead in their territory at Wirenth. The Chuglords retrofitted existing engines for amphibious assault and built these ships from Celandec resources to carry out the attack. From left to right: Da Celandec Slaya, Mooneye’s Menagerie, and Da Maw’s Fury.

Player Character: Azoth Realmgorger, Steamwrought Chuglords

Coalition: Celandec

Narrative Path: Hungry Eyes

Report Type: Writing

The approach and initiation of the attack on the Teclandec at Wirenth. Azoth is commanding from the bridge of the ship and testing out his new firepower.


Player Character: Silvan Lavius, Lumineth Realmlords

Coalition: Teclandec

Narrative Path: Broken Fences

Report Type: Hobby

My first 10 Wardens painted

Player Character: Sir Davidius Mappenborough, Collegiate Scholastica Expedition

Coalition: Dornayar

Narrative Path: Ships in the Night

Report Type: Arts and Crafts

Mappenborough explores the tunnels under Lux Umbra and discovers some local fauna to set on Aurannar rivals.

Player Character: Ayli | Sokrateez

Coalition: Dornayar

Narrative Path: Ships in the Night

Report Type: Writing

Da Storm Seekaz, and borrowed Ogors from Lord Chungus the Verbose

Sokrateez, knowing he cannot help find the artifact with his forces because of how violent they are, instead opts to lockdown several cave systems leading to the Lux Umbra by borrowing a force of Ogors from Lord Chungus, hoping to keep the Aurannar out of the area. He engages an (NPC) Idoneth army led by M’daa Nesseyd, and through superior tactics and cunnin’ traps, defeats them, and then finishes them with a signal to his boyz to finish the job on their retreat.


Player Character: Taranus Silvercrown, Argent Crusaders

Coalition: Dornayar

Narrative Path: Ships in the Night

Report Type: Arts and Crafts

Lord-Celestant Taranus Silvercrown at the marshalling of his forces outside of Selanar City, reminding them of their oaths to defend this land despite how its lord chafes at their personal honor and hunger for glory in Sigmar’s name.


Player Character: Runar Bugmansbur

Coalition: Dornayar

Narrative Path: Ships in the Night

Report Type: Writing

The Sons of Bugman Alechaeologist Expedition Company (Sons of Bugman AEC)

That the Eye of Noctis, a potent artifact, would reveal itself at the timely juncture of raised conflict between the Satraps was not prophecy; it had a rational explanation. Such was the hypothesis of Brewmaster Runar Bugmansbur. His discovery: a cult had stowed away on a vessel to the Satrapies; descended into the caverns, found a beast worthy of worship, and began bragging about its powers and treasures, which include the Eye of Noctis. This map is Site 1, where first contact ensued.


Player Character: Dreadlord Setris Corvossa

Coalition: Dornayar

Narrative Path: Ships in the Night

Report Type: Hobby

The Mnemosynean Order (technically Mork’s Sneakboyz)

Mork’s Sneakboyz at the ready to ambush Aurannar supply lines going into the Lux Umbra.


Player Character: Throm Copperfist, Bogswallow Marauders

Coalition: Aurannar

Narrative Path: Hungry Eyes

Report Type: Story Telling

Throm talks with an Auranneth Ledger Keeper as they prepare to cause “Coordinated Havoc”

Player Character: Bjakolm Grizzleborne, Grunn Steelstar’s mobile Rangers

Coalition: Aurannar

Narrative Path: Hungry Eyes

Report Type: Hobby

The Bjakolm’s freshly retrofitted dock loaders fitted with endrins and equipped with a prototype weapon system. Prepared to execute the Auranar commission to hunt monsters of the lux umbra and clear the catacombs of Dornaya.

These experienced monster hunting specialists, able to smoke giant spiders out with their Aetheric Fumigator, clearing corridors with the long barrelled volley gun and taking care of the largest foes with their Drill Falconet.

Player Character: Cai – Able Albern Baking Co.

Coalition: Teclandec

Narrative Path: Invasion of Wirenth

Report Type: Story Telling

The Warden smirked in their way as the ground rapidly rose up to meet them through the grey soup… illuminated as it was by the oddity of how light worked in Hysh, for they never thought they’d have to keep their sunfilters on during a storm late at night but this was Hysh… and the Prime Dominion no less. Everything got… weird.

Considering this strong showing out of the gate, we can’t wait to see what you all come up with next turn! Don’ forget that you can find (or share!) more campaign creativity with the #AnimosityIII hashtag on social media, too.

This article was written by Saul P


Turn 2 begins July 21st at 12:00am EDT!

After so many months spent preparing for this campaign, it’s hard to believe the first turn is already over. Thank you ALL for participating! A tonne of cool stuff has happened, and we’re super excited to dig into your reports and start writing about them. So, what’s next, you ask?

Sunday, July 18th – @NarrativeLabs campaign stream kickoff from 2-5pm EDT! Their innovative mechanics allow YOU the audience to influence the game. Come stop by and hang out with other Animosity players from around the world!

Monday, July 19th – “After Action Reports” will be posted in your Coalition’s #reference channels, breaking down the outcome of the previous turn’s Narrative Paths. Chances are there will be a Hobby Hangout in the voice channel after, too!

Tuesday, July 20th – Saul P will be presenting a “best in show” article on our website’s blog featuring some truly outstanding Reports from the previous turn, as chosen by Leila C and Nick J!

Wednesday, July 21st – Again, Turn 2 begins with a new set of Narrative Paths in your #reference channels and, of course, the Turn 1 Unfolding Narrative for you to sink your teeth into!

Thanks again for jumping in this week. Here’s to the next four!

Article written by Alex P

Short Story – “Live by the Sword”

Rune-sigil of the Idrelec

“The Idrelec will fall upon this insolent Haraldr-Grimnir! Neither rune nor prayer shall shield them from our fury. Not a single duardin shall quit the battle with his life, and all the Ceraphate will know the price of trespass upon that which is ours!”

A few in attendance, stupider or more sycophantic than the rest, cheered at Atressa’s words. More nodded in agreement, or stamped in approval. Many of the gathered officers, however, were silent. Basalt Lord Qarang Sarn would have found the muted support insulting, but Eris’ dour master was not here. The Satrap of Valour Atressa Redhand was, and she appeared comfortable presuming the meek acquiescence to be agreement.

It wasn’t. 

Instigating a battle with the Fyreslayer, the invited guests of the Aurannar no less, bordered on idiocy and spoke of sheer, unquenched rage. Yet Atressa’s commanders and courtiers seemed include to yield to her wishes all the same, no matter the consequences. Masters of war, survivors of the Spriefall itself, and all cowed by the woman at their head. One of the sheep glanced at Eris, and she fumed inwardly. Yes, she had a job to do, but for once she wished someone else could do it.

“You should do no such thing.” The tension in the room seemed to break, and Eris steeled herself as Atressa’s glance flashed murder. “It would waste time, warriors, and reputation.”

Atressa Redhand

“So, you think me incapable of victory?” the Satrap retorted, each word pointed like a duelist’s rapier.

“Defeat is not implausible. Their kind are implacable on the defense, and tenacious enough to break through any encirclement. Even if we slay them all, they could reap such a red toll that our armies are weakened for the war to come.” Eris shrugged, aware her words were falling on deaf ears. The Satrap’s pride and bloodlust would not allow her to hear them. Eris pressed on all the same. “It is likely that we will slaughter them, yes. There are few duardin and many Idrelec, and you know the terrain better than the Runefather.” 

“What if you do, then? Let us assume your victory is decisive, and all Iscarion hears how you massacred a Runefather and his fyrd simply because they accepted the invitation of another Satrap. All your foes would thank you for the arrow in their quiver, the proof that Atressa Redhand is little better than a berserker of the Blood God-”

“You are a coward and a weakling,” Atressa spat, leaping to her feet, sword in hand. Eris sighed inwardly.

“Slander! I seek only victory!”

“Enough!” Atressa’s cry rang out across the tomb-quiet chamber, and her charge parted the crowd like an angry megalofin through a bykbeak shoal. Eris’ own axe swung up, just in time to block a swing that would have claimed her head. No matter how many times they sparred, it never ceased to amaze her- she had a foot of height on the aelf and centuries of battle behind her, yet could still barely hold her own. Her daemon weapon howled for the taste of blood and yet bit only empty air as Eris’ opponent deftly eluded her.

All it took was an inch of over-extension, and with a twist of the wrist Atressa’s blade sank into Eris’ shoulder, stopping only when it hit bone. Eris clenched her teeth as the squirming entity in her axe screamed to strike back inside her mind. Instead, she bowed her head to the aelf in respect.

“I have shed your blood today, Khornate.” The Idrelec had perhaps the best medics in the Ceraphate and Eris had been wounded far worse before. She would heal. “The Fyreslayer’s blood need not be added to it. We will face them, eventually- when they march upon us under the banner of war. Alas, that day is not yet come.”

Eris hissed as the Satrap wrenched her sword free and turned to walk away. The Black Pilgrim couldn’t help but offer parting words. “Either you’re mellowing, or I’m improving, my Satrap. Six months ago you would have taken the entire arm.”

“Perhaps I am, Khornate.” Atressa did not look back. “Like you, I seek only victory.”

This article was written by Alex P

Short Story – “The Promise of Progress”

Rune-sigil of the Ruyalar

The machine- at least that part of it Vito Valencia could see- looked like a set of nested cylinders, each jutting out of the one behind it, and the smallest enthusiastically leaping out and retreating back inside of its predecessor every second or so. By means of a mechanism he recognized from the interior of his steam tank, this turned a grindstone, which was milling grain at a prodigious rate. Exactly how this was powered, Vito wasn’t sure, as he couldn’t see the entirety of the device- a sizeable chunk of it was on the other side of the Realmgate, and nobody cared to look too long or approach too closely to that portal unto the lethal barrens of Hysh.

He wasn’t the only one gathered around Caradryas Lightbringer’s new toy. The entire Ruyalar court had come at their Satrap’s bidding, gossiping and politicking at a safe distance from the monstrous contraption. A canopy shielded them from most of the Realm’s ambient light, and the majority stood with their backs to the burning gate- and the Satrap himself, whose enthusiastic speech rose and fell in counterpoint to the machine’s own repetitive drone.

Caradryas Lightbringer

“…and with just a touch of maintenance, this engine will run forever. It does not need fuel or fodder, as it’s powered by the endless energy of Hysh itself. It can do the work of a dozen oxen or Aelves or humans, without tiring, without flagging, without error or injury or complaint. Truly, Master Grumbakk’s ingenuity will change the very face of life here in our humble Satrapy…”

The Satrap of Innovation was overly effusive with his praise, Vito thought. The engine might accomplish all of what Caradryas claimed, but so could a windmill or a watermill, without the need for fancy equipment or overpriced babysitters. Still, if anyone was going to figure out how to make this white elephant into an advantage, it would be the Ruyalar. In fact, the germ of the idea was probably marinating in the mind of one of the milling courtiers right now.

The people of the Satrapy had a habit of pursuing strange arts and sciences, not because they were useful but because they were interesting, and as a result they’d lucked onto advantages and advances their hidebound neighbors would never have dreamed of. In that sense, Vito supposed, the engine was much like the Satrapy itself- it seemed frivolous to outsiders, until it did something you didn’t expect and suddenly became deadly serious.

Only a handful of persons weren’t flitting about the soiree, traveling from conversation to diversion like Iliathan rainbowflies. One of these was Master Grumbakk himself, the Kharadron engineer, still laboring over his creation. The other was his patron, Caradryas’ queen, and the real mistress of this assembly. War and profit had taken Vito all across the Mortal Realms, but women of Queen Vashti’s beauty were a rare sight for him indeed. He understood why the Satrap had been willing to take on Atressa Redhand for her favors. Vashti was gorgeous, and more importantly she was effortlessly charming. Charming, intelligent and curious, Caradryas had drawn the assembled together- his queen had given direction to what had been aimless, and function to what had been formless.

It was, for one thing, why Vito was there in the first place. It had been Vashti who’d befriended a long-dead cousin of his, forging an alliance between the Ruyalar and the Valencias almost a century ago. Probably the same held true for most of the host now gathering under Caradryas’ banner. Every Satrap was recruiting foreign legions from across the Realms- but most of the non-Aelf soldiers in Caradryas’ service already lived under his rule, and fought for more than coin. The Aelf had a personal magnetism and an energy that made his renegade philosophy so appealing, setting him apart from his hidebound neighbors and making his people so dangerous.

Other Satraps might have their excellences, rooted in their traditions and national character, and for the moment these strengths might overshadow the same abilities of the Ruyalar. But only for the moment. As casual as they looked, the courtiers’ eyes kept glancing back to the Satrap’s machine, filled with a burning curiosity. Given time, it was inevitable that the aggressive imaginations of the Ruyalar would equal and eclipse the closed practices of their rivals. Given time, Caradryas’ people would re-order the Prime Dominion to their liking.

In a way, Vito supposed, the Satrapy of Innovation was much like the still-running engine the Satrap was now cooing over. It might look bizarre, but it would work robustly and constantly even while its rivals faltered and failed. Wind might still, water might stagnate, but the imagination and curiosity of the Ruyalar would last forever.

This article was written by Peter C

Short Story – “The Meaning of Dreams”

Rune-sigil of the Celandec

The Composite Multitude had seen many strange peoples in its time among the Celandec, yet knew that they themselves were the strangest of all. Wrought from the souls and bones of the hallowed dead, they spoke the native tongue of most every creature to roam these halls by virtue of shared heritage with nearly all of them. They had no ears carved into the bone of their head, but they heard and listened better than most. No heart beat in their chest, but they keenly understood the emotions of the living- for had not each part of them once been alive?

There was a cacophony in the voices and the minds of the Celandec, discordant variations on hope and desperation warring for prominence. They were afraid, for the last war had not gone well for them and this coming struggle carried the same notes of annihilation with it. And yet, every day new possibilities loomed. The Celandec were not as they had been a century before- perhaps between them and their innumerable allies, the coming war would not be a catastrophe but a crucible from which they would emerge like hot steel quenched in blood.

Renaya Oathsworn

Every person in the Celandec court was an instrument plucking out these notes, but in Renaya Oathsworn the noise became a symphony, swirling and echoing like the celestial choir of Azyr itself. The Multitude was not ashamed to admit they were fascinated by her. The part of them that was an emissary of Nagash considered it their duty to learn all it could about her; the part that was a lover of knowledge, of truth, simply saw it as a pleasing challenge.

The sound of her approach drew them back to the present, standing watchfully in the shadowed halls of Renaya’s modest court. Ah, there she was, shepherding her flock of courtiers and officials, conducting the ever-shifting business of statecraft with a concert master’s hand. Always the delegator, the compromiser, playing the desires of many against one another in perfect counterpoint such that her disparate subjects could find harmony together. It was, they reflected, a trait that would be put to an altogether different test as the Satrapy mustered for war.

“Satrap,” They spoke in chorus, and the Soulmason’s bipedal throne-construct inclined in something resembling a bow.

“Equerry of the Undying King, recently deceased. When last we spoke you offered me Arkhan’s favor, yet now the liche too is destroyed. What, then, does the Ossiarch Empire bring to my table?”

If the Soulmason was taken aback by Renaya’s sharp tone, they did not show it. “Nothing less than what was promised, my Satrap. The regrettable absence of reinforcement means little; my kind require only the bodies of those we slay to replenish our ranks. The Empire stands by your side today and all days yet to come, Lady Oathsworn, so long as our tithe is paid.”

They were curious to see if Renaya would bristle at their implication; after all, an adversary easily provoked was an adversary easily misled. Even the Multitude could not imagine the plethora of devil’s bargains Renaya must have made to assemble her army, and no matter how righteous her people’s grievances, the Ceraphate at large would hardly welcome the horde which had answered her call. The Oathsworn smiled, and the Soulmason knew she had seen his feint for what it was.

“Life stands resurgent across all the realms. Nagashizzar wastes away on its deathbed, yet still you make threats against my people within my own walls? Do you not know your place? The thin ice you tread upon?” The Multitude watched her smile persist despite the seeming anger in her voice. She stepped back, then, and laughed. The tension fled the room like dark before the dawn.

“Then we are much alike. Worry not, Bonereaper, your tithe shall be paid. Do not let it be said that Renaya Oathsworn casts aside those who stand beside me through times of crisis!” and with that, away she swept, her gaggle of advisers and courtiers bustling to keep up. The Multitude watched her depart, amused; she already knew every word they had shared, but tactfully spoke them aloud anyway for the benefit of her people, of her cause.

Yes, the Composite Multitude mused, the tithe would indeed be paid.

This article was written by Alex P

Short Story – “The Weight of Destiny”

Rune-Sigil of the Teclandec

The assembled ranks of the Teclandec shone almost as bright as Haixah itself, arrayed in white and gold beneath a canopy of spearpoints shimmering with Hysh’s reflected splendor. From atop the walls of the Corusca Palace, the Aelven hosts seemed to stretch on forever, melding together in a haze of glory that hurt the eyes to look upon.

All of this glory was reflected in its commander. Dariel the Resplendent earned his moniker, every inch of him shining as if he’d been carved from aetherquartz. Yet even stripped of his raiment, the Satrap of Plenty shone with his own inner light. His bearing was perfectly gracious, his expression ineffably placid, his every motion and every word echoing with the wisdom of untold centuries. Here was a man without flaw, a leader without fault, a perfect people’s perfect leader – and someday, generous suzerain for all of the Prime Dominion.

Mercules Maneater knew better, of course. The Ogor had almost a century of experience with kings, emperors and tyrants, and his eyes were not so clouded by glory as the teeming masses below. Dariel played the part of the confident ruler superbly, but as the Teclandec prepared for civil war he had to be terrified. Still, truth was worth its weight in Sigmarite – nothing at all. All that mattered was how the Satrap was perceived.

With a final, noble salute, Dariel turned gracefully and strode from the balcony. Mercules rumbled in his wake, footfalls echoing and shaking the crystal chandeliers overhead. As they passed, constellations of servants and courtiers scattered and reformed like a school of glimmerfish around a rock. Respect for Dariel and fear of the Ogor drove them apart, and the ever-urgent clock brought them back together again.

Dariel the Resplendent

Finally, Dariel spoke again. “We stand at the culmination of Teclandec history. Every moment that has passed before, every decision, all leads us up to this very point.” Mercules had heard some variation of this speech a dozen times now, but then again, the Satrap wasn’t really talking to him. “We have gathered the largest army the Prime Dominion has ever seen. Not since the Spirefall itself have so many of our kin been gathered under one banner, and to their number are added our friends and allies alike.” Meaning Mercules, and those like him, he supposed.

“Together, now, we will bring the peace and prosperity that is our birthright to each of our broken, suffering neighbors. Now that their facade of unity has dissolved into squabbling and war, it falls to us to restore order , to bring the Prime Dominion back into harmony. One by one, we will lift the burdens off the shoulders of our neighbors, elevate them, until they can stand alongside us. Then will our destiny be realized, and we will become the beacon to all the rest of Hysh and the Realms that we were intended to be.” Dariel fell into august silence, and Mercules knew he was a moment away from being dismissed, and yet the question that had been burning at his gut for weeks finally came spilling out.

“Why this way, though?” A subtle shift of the head showed that the Satrap was graciously contemplating his subject’s words. “Here, on yer own turf, no-one – not even Redhand – could hope ta beat ya. All you have ta do is wait, maybe a season, maybe a year, and them all will be so worn out from fightin’ each other that you can walk in and do what you want ‘stead of having to fight. Probably thank you for it, too. So why this way?”

Dariel’s expression did not change. His careful, perfect mask expressed only the grace of a suzerain, but his words rang a trace more imperious all the same. “I suppose you would not understand the destiny and burden of the Teclandec. If we stood idle in this moment, if we allowed our estranged kindred to destroy themselves, we would no doubt stand tall in the rubble, but it would shatter all that we are – we would betray the truth of the Teclandec.” Dariel turned, and for a moment locked eyes with the ogor. “Everything we are, this golden realm we have crafted, it is not for a throne or a province, or even for the Teclandec. It is for us all. What we have achieved here is the inheritance of all Iscarneth. The peace and prosperity we own is the birthright of all our people, and we – and only we – have been given the means to ensure that that birthright is realized. That is our duty and our privilege both, and it is the weight of destiny that drives us.” Mercules looked into his eyes, beyond the serene mask he wore to the world, and saw the perfect conviction that shone in their cores. There was a smattering of applause from the hitherto silent crowd of listeners, which cut off suddenly as the Satrap turned his penetrating gaze outward. “You may return to your camp. When there is need for you, you will be summoned.”

As he walked away, Mercules supposed he did understand now. Cold logic and perfect strategy would decree a host of better options than waging a war against the rest of the Dominion, but Dariel was incapable of taking them. The Satrap – and all the Teclandec, too, he supposed – their exhausting drive for perfection was fueled by a glorious and terrible purpose. To stand by and watch as others fought for honor and glory, tearing the Dominion apart even to the Teclandec’s tangible gain, would be… like a Fyreslayer hawking Ur-Gold, or a Dryad burning down a forest. Or, he thought with a chuckle, like an Ogor refusing a free meal. It was unthinkable, and ran contrary to what it meant to be them.

He thought of Dariel’s eye once more, and the conviction that smoldered within them like a molten core of gold. Like dragon’s eyes, he realized with a start. He thought of what that conviction could do once it was unleashed, fully and unfettered by convention and politics, upon the realms. He quickened his pace once more. There was a great deal to prepare for.

This short story was written by Nick J

Short Story – “A Throne of Light”

Rune-Sigil of the Dornayar

The throne room of the Dornayar was uniquely barren within the Prime Dominion. No art or statuary adorned the walls, no courtiers mingled before the throne, no servants bustled and no music filled the air. The space was still and cold – even the austere Iden would have balked at how heartless the heart of the Satrapy felt. 

The chamber served its purpose, though. It contained a throne, which was all a throne room was really tasked to do, and it had ample room for visitors. The rest was inconsequential. The silent Watchers standing at intervals had long surrendered their appreciation for ornaments in exchange for greater things. As for the withered Aelf sitting above it all, he could have opened his eyes and taken everything in. Today, though, as with almost every day, he chose not to.

Elusedrod sailed on a sea of thoughts, all but free of the shackles of his mortal flesh. Six centuries of practice had given his liberated spirit the talent of walking the world and seeing through a thousand different eyes. The Watchers were not called as such for nothing – by borrowing their senses, the Satrap could peer into many places and know much that was meant to be hidden. Now he watched an Idrelec platoon drilling, now a party of Ruyalar caught up in some debauched revelry, now a symposium of Teclandec debating arcana. More so than any of his peers, Elusedrod understood his realm and the realms beyond – not merely as a mortal king, but as the god he was becoming.

Elusedrod the Deathly

When he was young, the Satrap had played card games with his friends – games of chance, and more importantly, of skill. There was a rule to them, a law that held firm regardless of which game you played or who played it with you. If you knew nothing of the game, you would always lose. If you understood your hand, you had the makings of a worthy opponent. But if you understood not just the cards you held but those your opponents held in turn, then you were always the master.

All the cards in the Prime Dominion were familiar to him, and all the players, for that matter. Atressa held the strongest hand. If anyone would win the first round, it would be her – but sooner or later the luck of the draw would turn against the Idrelec. Never one to hold, the Satrap of Valour would likely soon overplay her hand.

If this were a betting game, Dariel and the Teclandec would hold the largest pot. In truth, Dariel would be better served to deal himself in later, once everyone else at the table had played their best cards. In this, though, Valour and Plenty were alike- their pride demanded that they bet often and wager high.

The Celandec… disconcerted him. They came with a small purse, but their hand was well hidden- and Elusedrod wasn’t even certain they drew from the same deck as the rest. But, they would have their tells, and none would perceive them with as keen an eye as the Dornayar.

The Ruyalar were an enigma of a different sort. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see their hand, for if cards were blood then Caradryas would stain the table red. It was more that the Satrapy of Conquest played in a bizarre style, with cards and hands they seemed to have made up moments before.

All that remained was the Aurannar, his old foe. The Satrap of Wealth was a creature of focus, commitment, and sheer will- but what concerned Elusedrod was not that Iden would defeat his hand so much as overturn the entire table out of spite. All the Satrapies were challenging opponents, but powerful players were not nearly so dangerous as personal enemies. Not for the first time, Elusedrod wished they had crushed the Aurannar six centuries ago when they’d had the chance. This was the greatest lesson he taught his people: learn from the past, and never repeat its mistakes.

Elusedrod did not care for the metaphor of having a card up one’s sleeve, for it implied victory through dishonesty- and for the skilled, no such duplicity was necessary. Stretching out with his mind, he could feel an alien presence respond in turn. It was the skink Starseer Tetar-Munteq, and as they made contact he saw a hundred points of light coalesce around her- the small but burgeoning Seraphon colony nestled deep in his lands. With the Watchers as his eyes and Skink’s inscrutable kind serving as his hands, he could play his cards in ways his adversaries would never expect.

A disconcerting thought swam lazily up from the depths of his mind. The other Satrapies, too, were being reinforced by allies from outside the Prime Dominion. They, too, might move and act in ways he hadn’t anticipated. These unknown quantities might prove the wild cards that would turn the game on its head. Yet for the learned, these variables too were predictable. There were few besides the Gods themselves with longer memories than he, and even that disparity would be fleeting, given time.

An observer in the throne room might have seen Elusedrod’s face contort into a grimace that might have as easily been a smile or a sneer.

The game was afoot.

This short story was written by Peter C with editing by Alex P and others

Poke fun at your pals with preposterous propaganda!

If you’ve read the short story “Ledgers of the Aurannar”, you’ll know that a fyrd of the Dreyrugr lodge led by Fyreslayer Runefather Haraldr-Grimnir crossed Idrelec land to reach Iscarion at the invitation of Iden the Auric, Satrap of the Aurannar. While much of the Prime Dominion is settled, Iscarion is the capitol of the Iscarneth Ceraphate; think of it a bit like Rome during the Republic. Scuttlebutt like this- a slight against a Satrap known for rages and violence and not taking slights lightly!- would surely be the talk of every drinking hole, bath house and disreputable burger joint in the city.

But why stop there? Why not write your own salacious propaganda?

Courtesy of Team Animosity’s own Nuno M, you can do just that! Worried that a chuglord train is bad for the Dominion’s delicate, unblemished environment? Suspect that the Ceraphate’s maritime traditions cannot sustain a preponderance of exploding boats? Or perhaps you simply wish to question the opposition’s choice of classy hats- regardless, the tools to do so* are in your hands. While you’re more than welcome to post your creations to our Discord community, feel free to share them on social media, or even your local group- and don’t forget the hashtag #AnimosityIII so we can see your work, too!

Powerpoint Templates
Backgrounds, fonts, and vintage design elements for you to make your own newspaper or advertising flyer pages.
You can save from PowerPoint by selecting everything on the slide, right click and “save as picture”.

Newspaper Clipping generator
For those very quick “Headline-and-text” shares, the easiest to use.

PosterMyWall newspaper generator
This comprehensive website has all you need if you don’t wish to use powerpoint, and you can upload your own images too.

Newspaper meme generator
Add your own image and create new text boxes quick & easily. Feel free to upload this background image below as a template, or use one you made yourself.

What’s that? You were expecting the Gaming Resources page to drop today? Don’t worry, it’ll be here soon- but first, we need to fetch a few more buckets of spit from our local mega-gargant to polish it with. Until then, here’s a quick look at what you can expect:

AGE OF SIGMAR and WarCry resources, including single player and rules for games set in the Prime Dominion
SOULBOUND guide for campaigns set during Animosity III
BACKDROP ILLUSTRATIONS to print and use for model photography or whatever else you can imagine

In the meanwhile, don’t forget to share our New Player’s Guide far and wide, catch up on 5 fast facts about the vampire Mithridates Alti (since some of ya’ll still seem to think he’s a carbon copy of his dad), learn how to traverse the sea of liquid light that spans the Prime Dominion, and revisit the improbably vast history of Animosity Campaigns!

*We trust that all propaganda will be good-natured teasing and Team Animosity won’t need to reprimand anyone for unnecessarily mean-spirited smack talk.

This article written by Alex P with help from Nuno M

Short Story – “The Ledgers of the Aurannar”

Rune-Sigil of the Aurannar

Iden the Auric was deep in review of his ledgers when Haraldr-Grimnir answered the Satrap’s summons. Much of the Ceraphate thought Iden’s folky simply stingy in their hoarding of material wealth, but the Runefather knew better. War is an expensive endeavour, Haraldr’s father had told him, and often the depth of a lord’s coffers mattered more than the bravery of their warriors.

The ledgers, written in a cipher only Iden and his Ministers of Finance could read, were the only full accounting of the Aurannar’s impenetrable vaults.  It was Haraldr’s understanding that the Ministers themselves did not know the full extent of the vault’s contents, as each presided over a single one, and were themselves disguised as common folk and unknown even to each other. In this way, no single traitor would risk compromising the Aurannar’s holdings.

“How was your journey, Runefather?” Iden called out as the Fyreslayer approached him, refreshing his quill and writing another line without looking up.

“Ye dangled me lodge’s scrotes a’front o’ th’ bald woman like bloody meat b’fore a Rocktusk,” the Runefather replied, referring to the Idrelec’s Satrap, Atressa Redhand. “I don’t fancy me lads dyin’ before I’ve even met th’ man payin’ fer their funerals.”

“It was my understanding that your folk burned their dead?”

“Aye, but it’s their wives you’ll owe, an’ if you knew our women, that’d strike proper fear into ye.”

Iden the Auric

Iden returned his quill to its pot and, with an almost imperceptible nod of satisfaction, closed the heavy book he’d been poring over. “My apologies,” he said, steepling his fingers and turning his full attention to the Runefather. “There are few stable routes through Haixiah, and fewer still the Idrelec do not patrol. You are my guest, and had the Redhand attacked you, I would have retaliated immediately. That she tolerated your trespass simply gives weight to the argument that she is unfit, and perhaps even unable, to defend the Ceraphate.”

So, Haraldr thought, they were already speaking strategy. Good! The Runefather had little patience for idle pleasantries. “Reckon them warmongers would’ve spilled no small amount o’ blood, no matter how hard ye swung back at ‘em,” the old duardin responded, running a calloused finger along the thin gold seam that served as embellishment on the Satrap’s table. “Yes,” Iden responded, nodding, “But not ours. The Idrelec are skilled warriors, yet ill suited to siege craft. If they do not breach our vaults quickly- and they will not- Atressa’s armies will be forced to live off the land. They will resort to pillaging the Ruyalar and the Teclandec even as the scales tip further in our favor.”

Haraldr regarded the Satrap thoughtfully. The lodges had employed similar tactics with great success for centuries. Yet, if Iden meant to seize the title of Ceraph, he could not hide behind the safety of his walls forever. So, the Runefather said as much.

“You mistake my intention, master duardin,” Iden spoke softly, brow furrowing as he gathered his thoughts. “I have done what my adversaries have not. The Aurannar have long prepared for this war. Where victory has defeated them in these centuries of prosperity, my folk- and my folk alone- have made ready. Once the Ceraphate is ours, we will lead the Iscarneth in preparing for the greater wars yet to come.”

Haraldr nodded approvingly, but after a moment’s thought, spoke again with concern in his voice. “An’ what of th’ Dornayar? They’ll know what yer ilk ‘ave been up to.”

“They fought us once before, you know,” a sharp note crept into Iden’s tone, and his disfiguring scars pulled tighter across his features as he frowned. “Thought us defeated, for indeed, how does one battle a foe who knows what you will do before you even think to do it?” His frown twisted into a sneer. “Then let them know what we intend, I say. Let them try to stop us. It will make no difference.”

“With our vaults to support us, and warriors like yours fighting beside us, I believe victory is well in hand.”

“Th’ deal’s a deal, then?” Haraldr raised an eyebrow. “Ye’ll let my Runemasters into yer vaults an’ hand over all yer Ur-Gold t’me an’ mine, jus’ like that?” 

Iden gave a wry smile, and pushed the ledger he’d been writing in across the table to the Runefather. “These are all the Grimnic assets my Ministers have been able to identify thus far. It is my understanding it was never ours to begin with, and it is our hope the thirty percent additional evaluation in mundane coinage shall be enough to address your women’s losses?”

Now was Haraldr’s turn to grin. “You know, yer not such a bad sort, fer an elgi,” the Runefather spoke as he spat in his hand before offering it to the Satrap. “Jus’ don’t let on to me cousin I said that, fer I’ll nay hear the end of it!” the old duardin winked.

This short story was written by Peter C. with editing by Alex P. and others