The Shields of An'avon have journeyed far across the Mortal Realms to the desolate shores of the Sea of Shadows on a quest to recover the Fated Blade and save their kingdom. Gleaming knights astride powerful warhorses form the core of their force, their baroque armour and frightful visages bedecked in many-coloured heraldry. Hailing from the hill countries of Ghyran, they are joined by highland tribesmen called by ancient pacts of friendship, fae aelven wanderers, and many others troubled by the advancing tides of Azyr.
The Kingdom of Tír An'avon is a relic of an earlier age. Perched in the Highlands of Ghyran, it is a land of alpine meadows choked with windflowers, deep glacial lakes, and lonely hilltop castles. When the gates of Azyr slammed shut, the scattered clans of horsemen banded together around a warrior king and a prophetess of the Eight Goddesses to hold off the hordes of darkness. Over the centuries, they learned from their foes and grew into a small but powerful feudal kingdom backed by a noble class of heavily armoured knights. Taking on fierce guises of bestial skulls or horned helms, they have resisted daemonic warlords, rampaging greenskins and the hungry dead alike.
In recent years, a new threat unlike any they have faced before has emerged. Backed by the thunderous might of their undying warriors, crusaders bearing the twin-tailed banner have appeared in Ghyran, sweeping away all that stand in the path of their conquest. To the Sigmarites, any that do not kneel before their pantheon are no different than daemon-worshippers, fit only for death and conquest. High Queen Ygrainne has so far refused to call for war and meet the dawnbringers on the field, preferring instead to send skirmishers to harass and delay the invaders, slowing their expansion to a crawl. She is confident that a patient defense will turn them away for easier conquests elsewhere. Yet to some, this patience is a folly, and with each foot of ground granted a part of their kingdom’s souls is stolen away. A small number have rallied around the young Lady Gwenefyre, niece to the queen, and the prophetic visions she has received. Calling themselves the Shields of An'avon, they have gathered what few allies they can and set upon the perilous quest for the Fated Blade.
Young, headstrong and valiant, Gwenefyre was granted the hereditary title of Defender of Tír An'avon at a young age and has worked tirelessly to live up to the ideals it represents. Her skill and drive have won her renown among her peers and at court, but the weight of duty has grown heavy upon her. She fears that if the crusaders are not dealt with quickly, they will never be turned away or satisfied with their conquests. Tír An'avon cannot face the might of Azyr, of that she is certain. Just when she had begun to give in to despair, she received a dream of a magic sword, bound in ice in a distant land. A quest, sent to her by the blessed Goddesses in the kingdom’s hour of need. As hard as it would be to leave Tír An'avon now, Gwenefyre would not balk at the duty, no matter the cost.