ALBION

SHADOWS GATHER A dark shadow is spreading across the Warhammer World. An evil presence has awoken and seeks to enslave each and every race to its malicious will. Dark Emissaries stalk the land, offering their services to any who would join their cause. They whisper rewards of untold power and wealth to those who will fight for the Dark Master. Of this mysterious lord, little is known but these Dark Emissaries have allied themselves with the forces of Chaos and Darkness. They rouse all those with malice-filled hearts to march unto war. How many of these Dark Emissaries have spread the seeds of corruption in the Old World none can say, but the people speak in hushed whispers of their passing and of the terrible magics they possess. Few have dared to challenge these sorcerers and those who have perished before they even had a chance to regret their folly. Hordes of Goblins and Orcs have been seen rampaging down from the Worlds Edge Mountains. Not since the time of Morglum Necksnapper have Greenskins gathered in such numbers. Together they march to war, laying claim to the distant isle of Albion and challenging any who say otherwise. The green horde is not the only threat poised to strike the Old World. Sightings of the dreaded Black Arks have become more frequent. Rumors have even spread that flights of Black Dragons have been spied soaring high above the clouds, and Malekith, the Witch King, has been seen abroad once more. It is rumored that he has turned his attention towards Albion in the hope that its hidden treasures will lend him the power to destroy his most hated enemies, the High Elves. Once again the dead have risen from their peaceful slumber and gather together in a fearsome, unholy union of death. Some even talk of terrible man-sized rats crawling out from the sewers in vast numbers. Each witness speaks of different horrors but all who have spied these dreadful hordes say that they march northwards. It would seem that the isle of Albion is their destination. All eyes turn upon this mysterious place, as the mists part and its secrets are revealed for those who dare venture past the storm-battered beaches. All is not lost though, for even as the Dark Emissaries spread disorder across the face of the world, a beacon of light shines forth, calling for those who are good of heart and true to the cause of righteousness to rally together. A mystical race of warrior-wizards known only as Truthsayers have braved the perilous crossing over the Sea of Chaos to seek out noble civilizations. They foretell of great danger should their homeland of Albion fall; the forces that bind the Chaos mists to the northern realms will weaken and in doing so, Daemon armies will be able to descend upon the world. To those who will help protect the isle they promise to teach secrets lost to civilization since the disappearance of the Old Ones. Magic weapons and artifacts thought long vanished from the world will be given to those who the Truthsayers deem worthy, but time is of the utmost importance. The Elves of Ulthuan have pledged their allegiance to the cause and already Truthsayers are sailing aboard High Elf fleets. Soon they will make landfall on the coast of Albion. Also, the Elector Counts have gathered in council and after a surprisingly close vote have also agreed to provide support, though there are those who refuse to lend their forces. The knights of Bretonnia have formed a crusade and are speedily heading north where the will embark on the perilous sea crossing. Word has spread that a vast Dwarf throng, lured by the rumor of hidden treasures, have boarded their ironclad steamships and set sail from the hold of Barak Varr. It would seem that the Truthsayers have managed to spread the word of warning far and wide across the Warhammer World. Even the elusive Lizardmen have been spied marching forth, their divination of the constellations forewarning them of the peril. Though none have spied any fleets that could have made the long journey, a number of armies have

been seen crossing the lands of the Empire, and others report that they are already on Albion in numbers. The marshes and fens are ideally suited to them. Only time will tell whether the chill climate will affect their cold-blooded nature. With the possibility of discovering a link to their distant past, perhaps they of all races have the strongest interest in the isle. The Truthsayers warn the leaders of every army to prepare their soldiers for the harsh climate that will face them as they march upon Albion. The potent raw Chaos energy which has been absorbed by the earth of Albion creates highly unstable weather conditions. Albion is constantly bombarded by heavy rain and lashing gales which has the led to the ground becoming boggy and infertile to all but the hardiest of plants. The rumble of thunder has become an everyday sound and the torrential rain whips the faces of all who walk the land. Some parts of the land are so wet that they have become deep quagmires where any who wander off the muddy paths soon sink without a trace. The dense mists that have parted from the coast are still thickly concentrated on the center of the island and it is all too easy for individuals to become separated from their comrades and wander blindly into one of the treacherous marshes. These same mists hide a myriad of beasts, ready to strike at any who pass by before vanishing into their lairs. Although a relatively flat land, the coast of Albion is rugged and the great white cliffs that surround the island tower high into the sky. The waters of Albion teem with a vast array of hideous sea beasts, some of which are fully capable of pulling even large galleys to a watery tomb. Landing places are few and those beaches which do reach down to the turbulent storm lashed waters are difficult to find, let alone land upon. Jagged rocks rise out from the water, but it is the rocks that lie hidden beneath the foaming sea that pose the greatest threat. They will tear through the hull of a boat as easy as a Dwarf axe cleaves through a Goblins neck. Many of the Giants that were created to guard the Ogham stones enjoy nothing more than to stand at the top of these cliffs and launch great boulders down onto any ship that tries to land. The sight of one of these Giants is often enough to ward away would-be treasure hunters. The Giants are very protective of the land and attack all intruders who set foot in their realm, and only the tribes of primitive cave dwellers have gained the Giants trust and they too are a territorial race. What exactly they fight to protect is unknown, but the arrival of other more advanced races on Albion signals are very real threat to their way of life, which has remained unchanged for millennia. The legacy of the Old Ones still remains strong on Albion. Something deep within the ancient nature of the Ogham stone circles intensifies the power of magic and makes the isle a powerful vortex for magical energy. There are many of these mysterious circles located across Albion. The Winds of Magic blow with the strength of gales across the island, causing havoc amongst the mages who are exploring the land. Spells that are simply supposed to light a camp fire become deadly fireballs, whilst the most powerful sorcerous blasts might merely spark and fade from the casters fingertips. Possession of the Ogham stones is the key to conquering Albion, but it will not prove easy. Each race knows of their importance and will attempt to wrest the stones from those who are currently in possession of them. For those that succeed, power beyond any other that has existed on the Warhammer World will be theirs to control, and the fens and moors of Albion will be the lonely resting places for those that fail. The fate of the Warhammer World is in the hands of the Generals and Commanders of the armies who have come to this isle, and only one race will win. The call to arms has truly begun!

ALBION In a time long before Man first discovered the secret of fire, millennia before the first Elf learned the art of the bow, a race known only as the Old Ones forged the world. Legends tell of how they manipulated the ebb and flow of magic to mold the land to their will, and of how they sowed the seeds that would form into the vast forests that cover the world. The races of Elves, Dwarfs, and Men were like children to them, whom they nurtured and taught. It is said that even the Dragons were mere playthings to these godlike beings. In time, the Old Ones chose the island of Albion as one of the locations to build their homes. Little is known of their settlements for few have ever visited Albion, let alone returned from this mysterious place. They forged an island paradise where the sun shone bright and the crops flourished. Gathering the wisest and the bravest of each race, they taught them magic and other skills. They demonstrated the secret of forging runes to the Dwarfs and to elves they taught the mastery of spellcasting. The Old Ones believed that the race of Man was too primitive to learn, but were quickly surprised at the speed Mankind adapted to his surroundings. They were so impressed they chose to teach a select few of the cave dwelling tribesmen some of their secrets. Those they taught went by the name of Truthsayers for it was their duty to teach the other tribesmen the true path to enlightenment. They instructed their students to spread across the world and populate the continents, whilst all the time the Old Ones kept a watchful eye over their subjects. They in turn were worshipped as gods and temples were erected in their honor. The race of Man impressed the Old Ones the most for he seemed to be able to adapt to any climate and small tribes quickly flourished in every corner of the world. Carvings upon the Slann pyramid temples found deep within the jungles of Lustria and the earliest songs of the High Elf bards tell of a great disaster that befell the noble Old Ones. A magical gateway, their portal to other distant worlds, collapsed, and they were forced to flee the fledgling world that they had created lest they become stranded. Unable to help those races they had brought into the world, the Old Ones had little choice but to leave them to fend for themselves. Their parting gift was to create a race of giant warriors to protect the people of Albion. The collapse of the gateway tore a great hole in the fabric of the heavens allowing the forces of Chaos to pour into the world. As the Chaos mists enveloped the land, hordes of gibbering Daemons and all manner of foul beasts descended from the north in a bloody rampage. Many of the wise Slann, the highest servants of the Old Ones were the first to fall. A brave race, they tried to fight off the first wave of attackers, but were too few and too weak. They fled into hiding within the dense jungles of Lustria. Next the Chaos hordes turned their attentions to the High Elves, but the Old Ones had taught their children well. The High Elves constructed a vortex at the center of the heart of Ulthuan to contain and drive back the dark mists. The mages of the Elves created this vortex by building a series of stone circles to absorb and diffuse the Chaos energy. In their arrogance the High Elves thought that they alone were the saviors of the world, but it was not so. By concentrating their attack on Ulthuan and leaving Albion, the Chaos hordes made a fatal flaw in their plan of conquest. The Truthsayers, or Druids as they were called by the people of Albion, gathered together the Giants and bade them also to construct a series of stone circles. With such immense strength at their disposal, the Truthsayers soon had a great many of these circles whose mystical properties would allow them to channel their spells and bind the forces of Chaos to the north. In many ways their mastery of this form of magic was better than

that of the Elves. Not only were they able to contain the Chaos mists but they were also able to use the stones to weave their own veil of fog around the island, protecting what they called the Ogham stones from danger. The Elves would certainly have been overrun had the Druids of Albion not stemmed the flow. But the mist that shrouded the isle also blocked out the sun. Something in the nature of stone circles attracted rain and storms, and over a short period of time the fertile land of Albion became a boggy region where few crops grew. In absorbing much of the Chaos energy, the soil of Albion itself became tainted and once fertile fields quickly changed into quagmires where a man could sink without a trace. The thick woods and forests became wild places where hawthorn and poisonous plants choked the life from the trees. Many feared to enter these once beautiful glades and many of those who did were never seen again. Even the creatures of Albion were not able to escape the mutating effects of Chaos and after only a short period of time the tribesfolk told tales of terrible monsters lurking in the darkest reaches, emerging at night to prey upon the unwary. It was a price the Truthsayers had little choice but to pay. If the dark forces of Chaos were to be contained then Albion had to remain hidden. The Truthsayers gave the task of guarding these stone circles to the Giants who had constructed them. Said to have been formed from the Earth itself, these Giants were highly intelligent beings and knew the importance of their vigilance. For a while stability was created. The High Elves flourished as a race, learning much of the world through their contact with other more primitive races such as Dwarfs and Man. The Truthsayers of Albion, on the other hand, were isolated. They preferred the safety of their remote isle to the danger of the outside world and became introverted and reclusive. The Giants also suffered from their imposed isolation. Centuries of inbreeding dulled their minds. When the danger of Chaos vanished they became bored and restless and resorted to mindless displays of strength in order to pass away the time. The tribes of Men on the island also suffered a similar fate. With the disappearance of the Old Ones and a distinct lack of contact with the outside world they degenerated into a race of warring tribesmen and primitive cave dwellers. During all this time the Truthsayers continued to teach a chosen few their secret magic, waiting for the day when their masters would return. Each Truthsayer would be taught in minute detail the ritual ceremonies that were needed to maintain the mists that enveloped the island. They would each learn the nature of the stones and offerings that must be made so that the magical power of these circles never waned. Over time, though, the ancient lores were slowly forgotten and, although the Truthsayers still practiced their art, it was but a shadow compared to the powers that used to be at their command. Some practices till survived though, and on the night of each full moon the Truthsayers would gather and perform ceremonies in order that the mystical energies stayed bound to the stones. So it came to be that Albion remained a mysterious island. Many tales tell of raiding ships that have vanished into the mists never to be seen again. Occasionally the gossip in a tavern will turn to the tale of a friend of a friend who was shipwrecked on the isle and returned to tell stories of creatures that were half horse, half man or of terrible one-eyed beasts that stalked the mists. Some even claimed to return with riches beyond a mans wildest dreams. No truth to these stories has ever been proven, and the rumors of Albion remain little more than fantastic tales told by drunks to any who would listen. But now a new legend has spread across the land. Sailors talk of an island which has suddenly appeared in the far north. Huge white cliffs loom out from the sea but the sailors have also spied beaches where a small boat may possibly make a landing. It would seem that the mists have parted and the land lies open to

explore. Every race across the Warhammer world is gathering its armies to seek the treasures of Albion and claim the island as their own. Even more disturbing are the rumors of dark strangers who have been traversing the length and breadth of the world. They talk of a Dark Master, one who will lead the strong to conquer the weak. Of these Dark Emissaries, as they have become named, little is known. People talk of sinister magics at work and where they walk death follows. Of the Dark Master nothing is known, save for the fact that he has called his followers to join him at Albion. Only time will tell of the secrets that will undoubtedly be revealed. PLACES OF NOTE The isle of Albion is a fog-bound land fraught with many unseen dangers and hazards. All manner of strange, terrible beasts and frightful monsters ravage the land. Avoiding them can be a test not only of cunning but of resourcefulness. Not only this but to make matters worse even the most seemingly innocent of places can prove to be death traps to the unwary. BEAST PEAKS The Beast Peaks are a clump of mountains deep in the interior of Albion. Their heights are enshrouded in low cloud, obscured by constant rain and storm, so that the actual size of the mountains is unknown. They are known as the Beast Peaks due to the high number of monstrous creatures that live in the mountains, whether they live in the high altitudes above the cloud-line, or within the innumerable caves and labyrinthine caverns that riddle the mountains like honey-comb. The mountains are greatly feared by the inhabitants of Albion, who will travel many miles, even weeks out of their way to avoid approaching them. These superstitious natives sea the Beast Peaks as a link between their world of Albion and the realm of the gods, and that the rumbling of the dark storm clouds hanging ever present over the range indicates their fury and power. They see the various monsters that occasionally foray out of the mountains on destructive rampages as pets or messengers of these powerful, willful deities, servants that have traveled down the mountains from the heavens to display the displeasure of the gods. The Giants of Albion perceive the Beast Peaks rather differently. They see the mountains as a great hunting ground, a place where they can match their strength against the various creatures inhabiting that realm. Amongst the Giant tribes, the Great Hunt is a time of festivity, each Giant competing to catch and overcome the mightiest beast. Many travel the length of Albion to take part in the Great Hunt, and at this time, the mountains echo with their bellowing cries of childlike excitement. Many Giants meet their fate in this contest of might, rolling off treacherous cliffs while wrestling ferocious griffons, or trying to overcome one of the Dragons awoken by their noisy antics. Rumors have spread amongst the newly landed armies of Albion of great riches and powerful artifacts hidden within the labyrinthine passages deep within the Beast Peaks. Many of these forces have begun moving towards this location, and already several Dwarf expeditions have entered the twisting caverns. Beset by a myriad array of nightmarish and deadly creatures as they entered the twisting underground realm, the stubborn Dwarfs continue to push further into the mountains, hungry for the rumored treasures within. Tribes of Goblins have also been gathering in great numbers beneath the Beast Peaks, hoping to beat the Dwarfs to their prize. The fiercely territorial Giants, outraged at the appearance of so many short creatures overrunning their hunting ground, have gathered in force, and attack the Dwarfs and Goblins from high in the Beast Peaks, hurling great boulders down the steep mountainsides, creating thundering avalanches. Nevertheless, the relentless Dwarfs push on.

Likewise, the Goblins continue to stream into the area, greed driving them forwards. BLEAK MOOR Bleak Moor is a large expanse of desolate land situated on the north-eastern side of Albion. This treeless expanse is perpetually covered in a thick fog that is said to never lift. The landscape within the mist seems to change alarmingly, confusing travellers and making maps of the region useless. Paths that exist one day are gone the next, and even the most experienced scouts find it almost impossible not to be turned around in the foggy moorland. Amongst the local people, Bleak Moor is avoided whenever possible, for they recognise it as a highly dangerous and unpredictable region. Countless stories abound of people wandering into the mist and losing their way, never to be seen again. Some say that they wander the moors in confusion for eternity, forever seeking a way to return to their homes. Others say that in the thick mist of Bleak Moor time has no meaning. Legends abound of people having become lost in the moorlands for decades on end and returning not looking a day older, thinking that only minutes had passed. In a similar fashion, these stories tell of people wandering within the mists for a lifetime, growing old and grey as they wander the moors, only to stumble out to find that in the real world no time has passed. Scattered through the moors are a series of ancient stone relics and monuments. These include several towering standing stones, and a large stone disc with a hole carved through its middle. The original purpose of these monoliths has been long forgotten, lost in time. As the landscape of Bleak Moor is constantly shifting, it makes a detailed study of these stones almost impossible, for their actual locations are always changing. Several stories are told of these stone relics, though it is unknown whether there is truth within them or if they are just fanciful tales. One of these stories explains that the large circular stone can act as some sort of gateway. It is said that if one performs the correct movements, walking anti-clockwise around the stone nine times on a full moon, that a gateway will appear within the hole in its centre, a doorway to abav, the heavens or otherworld. At night, the moors become even more unpredictable and hazardous, and anyone wandering into the region is never seen again. The local people tell of fey lights that can be seen within the fog at night, glowing spheres that seem to dance across the heather. Many people who have become lost within the moors follow these lights, mesmerised, and are led further and further astray. Some say that these lights are the spirits of those who have perished while wandering lost within the mists of Bleak Moor. They hover over the land, enticing and bewitching, leading unwary people to join them in their mysterious and sinister hauntings of the night. BOL-A-HAT Bol-a-Hat is the largest concentration of native people on Albion. Whereas across the rest of the isle, the people are primarily cave dwellers, in Bol-a-Hat the natives have begun to erect crude huts and tents. Indeed this was a necessity, for the population soon outgrew the caves within the area. Vicious territorial fights broke out as rival family groups battled to secure safe shelter, until one inspired inhabitant decided he would make his own cave out of sticks and leather. From this, the huts and tents have become increasingly popular in Bol-a-Hat, to such an extent that the more important one's standing within the community, the bigger their tent. Now, only the lowliest of inhabitants reside within the caves. Trade, a newly formed concept on Albion, is centred in Bol-a-Hat, and people travel from many miles around to barter meat and furs in exchange for new technological wonders like tools and weapons. Trade is a long and drawn out process, leading to great frustration and frequent outbursts of violence. It is a common sight in Bol-a-Hat for merchants to pummel each other, which will often give the victor a better exchange. Misunderstanding and misinterpretations are

frequent, for their language is a distinct barrier to simple communication. Those native people of Albion who travel to Bol-a-Hat gape in awe at the advancements made by their countrymen, and they walk around the man-made huts in wide-eyed astonishment, pointing and hooting. They are particularly impressed with the dwelling of the Unga-Er, translating to 'Big Woman', the self-proclaimed female chieftain of Bol-a-Hat and Albion as a whole. She causes some confusion amongst them though, for they are not actually sure what she really does, seeming to spend most of her time in her great hut waving to her subjects. One of the most popular sights of Bol-a-Hat is the great flocks of grey birds that gathers in the centre paddock, perching on tents and stone statues, as well as on the shoulders and heads of passers-by. The people of Albion take great delight in this sight, for these birds are considered a great delicacy, and it seems the birds always return, no matter how many of their number are eaten. Most travelling to Bol-a-Hat are quite exhausted by the fast pace and cramped living conditions, and are happy when they are able to return to their caves. Bol-a-Hat has, however, become a mecca for the young people of Albion, and they flock to the growing region in great numbers. The people of Bol-a-Hat look down on their countrymen, seeing them as somewhat backwards. In turn, many of the traditional cave-dwellers scorn the people of Bol-a-Hat, for they seem stressed and to have little free time while claiming they are more advanced. THE CITADEL OF LEAD Once the sacred temple of the Truthsayers, the Citadel of Lead is a mighty bastion towering high into the sky. Unlike most castles or fortresses, the Citadel of Lead is made from metal. None know why it was constructed or who built it, but the natives say that it has always been here. For many millennia it remained closed to all as none could ever find an entrance to the fortress, and legends of mysterious occupants were recounted around the campfires of each village. Some said it was the abode of the gods; others that it was the dwelling place of a long vanished race. Even the giants were reluctant to venture near the ominous Citadel. Shortly before the mists first started to clear a Truthsayer known as Kheciss, one of the most respected amongst his kind announced that he had deciphered an ancient text on how to open a portal to the Citadel. He called a council of the Truthsayers and announced that he would go to the Citadel and attempt to enter the fortress. For many months no one heard from Kheciss and a number of Truthayers all set out on quests to discover what had happened to their spiritual leader. None ever returned, but on one dark night lights were seen emanating from the fortress. It was an unnatural light which pulsated from the few windows and it was shortly after this that the mists began to clear. The Truthsayers who had entered the citadel emerged. They were changed; their once powerful muscular build had become hunched and crooked. They hid themselves beneath layers of robes and each wore a cowl hiding their faces. They called a council and bade that all the Truthsayers join them in the worship of a new master. They talked of the powers that they would be able to unleash if they were to draw from the energies contained within the Ogham stone circles. At this the Truthsayer council was horrified. They were guardians of the Albion, protectors of the stones and to use these energies in any other manner than the Old Ones had decreed was shunned. The outraged council cast the Dark Emissaries from Albion, but as they left each of them vowed to return to wreak vengeance. Now it is believed that the Dark Emissaries have returned to Albion and within the Citadel they plot the demise of the Truthsayers, and ultimately Albion. None know what secrets or horrors lie within the metal walls but few have the courage to enter and find out. THE FORGE OF THE OLD ONES

On top of a great hill and only accessible by a treacherous path which winds through a deadly swamp lies the Forge of The Old Ones. It is an ancient pyramid and on each tier are carved numerous symbols of the ancient people that once inhabited the island. Now the Forge lies in a ruinous state and even the labours of the Truthsayers have not succeeded in stopping the ferocious weather conditions which exist on Albion from eroding the stones from which it was made. From the outside it now resembles little more than a forgotten monument, but inside the tunnels that twist and climb through the Forge it is a sight to behold. Glyphs and images painted on the walls hint at ancient technologies that the Old Ones once had at their command. They show of a time when only light existed in the world, a time before the coming of Chaos. They also tell of a great tragedy and how the gods were forced to leave their mortal realm. Within the chambers of the forge are kept the tomes of the Old Ones, huge books which contain the secrets of magic and the art of casting spells. Only a small amount of this vast storage of information has been deciphered, as the language remains a mystery lost to the halls of time. Also kept in sacred containers are the forbidden weapons of the Old Ones, magical artefacts whose power is so great the Truthsayers must hide them away lest they fall into wrong hands. It is within the great central chamber of the forge that the council meet to discuss the future, the past and the present. Now they are totally focused on the present invasion of Albion and opinion varies greatly as to what course of action they see as the right one to take. Dural Durak, the new leader of the council, has decided that each Truthsayer should follow his heart and ally himself with the forces of good to fight against the tide of evil that approaches. A few Truthsayers remain at the Forge to guard the sacred treasure of the Old Ones but a handful of these powerful warrior mages is enough to deter anything but the strongest opponent from attacking the pyramid. THE GIANTS CAUSEWAY The most feared natives of Albion are without doubt the towering giants that walk the land. Whilst these lumbering behemoths dwell throughout Albion the majority gather to the North of the isle at a place known as the giants causeway. This area of Albion is made up from a chain of volcanoes which are very much active. Whilst most people would flee from the intense heat and the constant threat of eruptions the giants revel in this habitat. They find the sweltering thermal heat comfortable and a welcome respite from the cold, damp climate that exists on the rest of the island. The lava streams which are as wide as rivers prove only a minor hindrance for them to cross and the hot rocks which would char the soles of a man's foot prove only a minor irritation to the thick skin of a giant. The giants make their home in the caves of the volcanoes and have developed a large community. Little is known of the social activities of the giants as those who have summoned the courage to venture into the realm never return. The giants do not pose any great threat to the natives of Albion, and except for the rare occasions when giants accidentally tread on a human, the two live in relative harmony with one and other. The giants hunt the terrible beasts that dwell within the mountain of the Beast Peaks, killing the creatures that would threaten to destroy local native villages. In return the natives sew together hides of these beasts for the giants to wear as clothing, a task not suited to a giants huge clumsy fingers. On certain nights the thunderous rumble of gigantic boulders being thrown and the booming roar of the giants can be heard for many miles. The natives talk of a brutal game that the giants undertake in ritualistic fashion. They say that a huge arena has been constructed within a crater of a dormant volcano. In this pit, surrounded by enormous chairs made from stone, the giants gather in great numbers to challenge each other to unarmed combat. It is a spectacle that few people have witnessed and those that have are reluctant to speak of

their experience. With the invasion of Albion the giants that dwell within the causeway have begun to emerge from their caves. Their way of life which has been unchanged for millennia is now threatened and the giants all seek to investigate this new disturbance. Their once carefree existence has now vanished and as a result the giants now fight amongst themselves deciding the best course of action. Most follow the Truthsayers, obeying their commands without question, but there are those who have been persuaded that their interests are best served allying with the Dark Emissaries. THE GREAT HOGS There are many native customs and beliefs which flourish amongst the primitive tribes of Albion and one of the central beliefs is that the hog is sacred. The villagers will not ever kill a pig for its meat or hide and they are allowed the freedom to wander the realm untouched. It is believed that when a giant dies his spirit is transformed into the body of a great boar. As the giants are protectors of Albion then these creatures must be left alone. Such is the extent of this strange worship that all over Albion there can be found effigies and statues carved into the shape of hogs. One of the largest sites of dedication to the pig is the Great Hogs. These are a series of huge drawings carved into the very hills themselves. They are hundreds of metres in length and each one is formed in the image of a huge pig. These crude drawings are the work of the giants and each one is drawn in the memory of one of the legendary giant kings of Albion who have since passed away. These giant Kings hark back to a time when the giants were not the degenerate individuals that they have now become, but when they were a mighty race. They once served the Old Ones with loyal hearts. They were the guardians of the laws and protectors of the faith but now they are little more than lumbering primitives. Amongst the tales that the giants tell each other on the rare occasions they gather is the legend of the Big One, a giant who will return to save their kind and lead them to glory untold. The Big One will ride from the skies on a mighty hog and carry the giants to the lost kingdom, a mythical realm where the trees tower over the giant's heads and cattle as large as mammoths roam the rich grasslands. GREAT OGHAM The Great Ogham was the first of the stone circles to have been constructed on Albion. As well as being the oldest, it is the largest and most powerful of the Ogham sacred sites, and as such is the most fiercely defended by the Truthsayers. It is positioned in the southern region of the Isle, and is an imposing and awe-inspiring sight. The native, cave-dwelling people of Albion keep away from this place, for even they can feel the hum of power that hangs over the imposing monoliths. The great stones stand atop a mound that rises out of the flat lands, dominating the landscape for miles around. Each gigantic stone is perfectly fitted to interlock with its neighbour, creating a stunning spectacle of architectural precision that seems somewhat out of place in the otherwise primitive land. Each night of the full moon, Truthsayers meet within the Great Ogham to conduct their secretive and mysterious ceremonies. On nights of particular ritual significance, times when there is a rare convergence in the stars above, Truthsayers gather at all the stone circles scattered across Albion, the most powerful of their order taking their place within the Great Ogham. Across all of Albion the Truthsayers chant in unison, and mystical power streams between the various stone circles, flowing around the entire isle. Swathed in humming energy, the mists concealing Albion from the outside world strengthen in their intensity, and great lights can be seen shooting into the black sky from the stone circles. On these nights of power, the native people hide deep within their caves, fearing that spirits roam the night. Even the Giants feel something strange in the air, and become unusually quiet, seeking shelter until it passes. The Great Ogham is the most powerful of the ancient stone circles,

and as such its safety is of paramount importance for the Truthsayers. It has already been the sight of a number of intense battles, for many armies are being drawn towards it. The Dark Emissaries continue to spread their manipulative rumours, appealing to the greed of their allies, directing their forces towards the Great Ogham. In response, the Truthsayers lead their allies towards the defence of the powerful stone circle. Some are even saying that the fate of Albion rests on who takes eventual control over the Great Ogham, although this may be just another cunning rumour, spread by the insidious Dark Emissaries to further their own aims, whatever they might be. ISLE OF WIGHTS The Isle of Wights is located off the southern coast of Albion. It is an inhospitable land, with sharp, jagged rocks guarding its coastline. The currents passing through the strait between the isle and the mainland are treacherous, and the short journey across the icy-cold seas is extremely dangerous. The island is wind-swept and treeless, with only a few hardy plants clinging tenaciously to life. The interior of the Isle hangs heavily with fog and mist, as it does over much of Albion, making the air particularly cold and dank. The one distinctive feature across the otherwise unremarkable Isle is the series of great, grassy mounds dotting the landscape. These ancient man-made hills are the ancient burial tombs of mighty kings and warriors of Albion, from a golden period of time when the people of Albion were cultured and strong. These barrows have remained untouched and undisturbed for countless centuries, for the native people of Albion have no capability, or desire, to cross the treacherous strait into this realm of the dead. It is said that spirits crowd the Isle of Wights, their ghostly wailing filling the night. Spectral apparitions stalk through the mist, refusing to give up their link to the physical realm, seeking the warmth of living bodies. The barrows themselves each house an ancient, long dead warrior of high standing and his elite bodyguard, entombed within to serve their lord for eternity. Adorned in decaying armour of bronze, these ancient warriors lie unmoving for hundreds of years, until such a time when a living being is sensed nearby. Rising uneasily on skeletal limbs, they confront intruders with their darkly powerful, ancient blades, weapons that can suck the life from a living body with just the smallest of wounds. The barrows covering the ghostly Isle of Wights are rumoured to hold ancient treasures, as well as artefacts of great power. As the mists of Albion lifted, the first treasure seekers arrived on the tiny, inhospitable Isle, the first living souls to have trod the ground for countless centuries. Their presence has been resisted at every step by the undead spirits that stalk the night, and the Wights guarding the barrows march from their tombs to face the intruders on the field of battle. Many of these would-be grave robbers have fled the Isle in terror, their sanity shattered. Those who have fallen beneath the rusted weapons and icy touch of the undead rise to defend the Isle from further intrusions. MUDDY POINT The most Southerly point on the coastline of Albion is known as Muddy point. Named after the sweeping mud flat plains, it is one of the few areas on the coast of Albion that provides an easily accessible landing point. A large portion of the rugged coastline is made up of imposing white cliffs or treacherous rocky beaches. The turbulent seas that surround the coast hide jagged rocks and sandbars, which can prove deadly for ships whereas the waters to the west are far less perilous. Muddy Point is not without its own dangers though. The seemingly flat sands hide a number of hazards the most common of which are the deadly pools of quicksand. Many brave adventurers on the mysterious island have taken a wrong step and sank beneath the sand leaving only bubbles on the surface as a trace of their passing. At night all manner of strange creatures emerge from their hiding places to seek food. One of the more dangerous of these native beasts are the giant crabs. Vast swarms of them scuttle up the beach in the

darkness, the gnashing of their razor sharp claws, an eerie noise that fills the night. The hard carapace of these terrible monsters is virtually impenetrable to all but the sharpest blades. The giant crabs feast well on the corpses of those slain in battle, but they have been known to attack the living for they are a highly territorial creature. Muddy Point was the focus of much of the early fighting on Albion. Possession of the important strategic location has already changed hands countless times. The Empire troops of Carroburg were the first to make landfall on the beaches and built fortifications to protect their foothold. Unfortunately before reinforcements could arrive Orcs and Goblins attacked in overwhelming numbers, destroying the Empire camp. Since then possession has fallen successively into the hands of the Dwarfs, Brettonians and Skaven. Now it is rumoured that a Vampire Count has taken hold of the beach and with his dark necromancers, raises the bones of those fallen in battle. The Skeletons of the dead, stripped clean by the scavenger crabs, surface from their sandy graves ready to fight once more on the isle of Albion. As the battle for Albion moves further inland the horrors faced by those landing at Muddy Point will be forgotten. New dangers must be overcome but the beaches of Muddy Point will be recorded in the histories of each race that has fought on the sands as one of the bloodiest sites in their campaign. OCHNESS Ochness is a deathly cold, black lake that the native inhabitants of Albion fear greatly. Many myths and legends surround this lake and the monster that is said to reside within its depths. The creature, Buuhn-yip in the crude native tongue, is said to have lived within the mass of water since the beginning of time, and that it will remain there until the world ends. It preys upon unwary travellers, particularly women, plucking them from the shore before descending into the icy depths of its home to devour its meal. It is rumoured to be a very secretive creature, and sightings of it are extremely rare. It is even more rare for someone to see the creature and live to tell of it. The surface of Ochness is black and glassy smooth, so that it appears like polished, reflective obsidian. The depth of the inky-black water is unfathomable, and it is rumoured that the lake has no bottom. Some say that the lake travels far underground, opening up into the ocean. If this is the case, then Buuhn-yip, the monster of Ochness, could be a number of different sea-dwelling monstrosities that have travelled into the lake from the seas over the centuries, rather than a single, ancient creature. Images of Buuhn-yip have been scratched and drawn onto the cave walls in the mountains surrounding the lake for countless generations, and these pictures vary quite considerably. Some pictures show a tentacled monstrosity, while others depict a long-necked creature with flippers. One bizarre engraving shows a strange, feathered creature with oversized teeth. However the most common images of the Buuhn-yip show an immense creature, scaled and sinuous, with a gaping maw filled with row upon row of teeth. The serpent-like creature has four powerful, webbed limbs, and is usually drawn with long strands of weed or hair draped over its body. A tribe of the cave-dwelling natives has made its home in the hills nearby to Ochness, and its culture has been formed with Buuhn-yip playing a significant part. Young men travel to the lake as a rite-ofpassage to manhood. In this test, the young man must walk slowly around the edge of the lake an hour before dawn. If the young man breaks into a run, he is dishonoured and will be outcast by the tribe. When he returns home, having not been taken by the Ochness monster, he is regarded as a man. These natives carve Buuhn-yip shaped totems, which they sell to ignorant travellers in great numbers, claiming they are authentic protection charms. Ochness is a place of great significance to the people of Albion, for while they fear it greatly, it is rumoured to be a place of great natural power. Truthsayers travel from all over Albion to gaze on the surface

of the lake, and it is said that they can divine the future from what they see. On the night of a new moon, the Truthsayer will sit chanting for hours on end until he enters a deep, dream-like trance. Then, as the hidden moon reaches its zenith, the Truthsayer will be able to read the future in the stars reflected off the lakes surface. It is said that if the Truthsayer is pure of heart and without doubt, he will be gifted with wisdom. If not, then Buuhn-yip will rise to the surface of Ochness and devour him. THE PILLAR OF OG-AGOG The Pillar of Og Agog, which in the native tongue of Albion translates as 'The ancient pillar of Heart Magic', is built at the very centre of Albion. It can be seen towering high into the sky for many miles around and has become the gathering point for the native tribes of Albion. Legends say that long ago the image of a god was carved from stone at the top of the pillar a statue that the primitive natives worshiped with devotion. He was said to be a leader amongst the immortal Old Ones and stories told of how his winged chariot soared across the heavens. The natives would gather each year at the foot of the pillar and the most skilled warriors of each tribe would compete against each other. Wrestling, spear throwing and shows of strength were common but by far the most impressive event was the chariot race. A rough track still exists around the pillar and the winner of these races would bring immeasurable respect for himself and his people. Except for those times when the natives gathered, the pillar was solely the haven for the flocks of small grey birds that are so common on the island. For some reason they were drawn to the pillar in vast numbers and on some days it appeared as though a great tide of grey feathers flows around the foot of the pillar. The pillar now lies in a ruinous state. Shortly before the mists that shrouded the island parted a great storm, the likes of which even Albion had never encountered, struck the island. For days and nights gale force winds tore across the plains and thunder boomed across the moors. Great bolts of forked lightning briefly lit up the darkness and even the natives of Albion, accustomed to terrible weather cowered in their primitive shelters. When they emerged they found that the pillar had been destroyed and even worse the mists which had so long kept their island safe from invasion had vanished. The statue, which for millennia had looked over the land, now lay broken at the foot of the pillar and even the giants were unable to lift the huge chunk of marble. The birds which were once so numerous around the pillar have deserted it and none know where these flocks have scattered. The Truthsayers have now met in council and all agree that the broken pillar is an omen from the gods of a darkness that will descend on their island. The natives now shun the pillar and it remains a fallen monument of a time when relative peace ruled in Albion.