Dust stirred in the throne room of the mighty Black Pyramid. The skeletal body of Nagash slumped on its basal throne, weak and weary over his inability to leave this structure without losing connection to the Realm of Death, his spirit guttered like a flame deprived of fuel and he fell subject to the creeping of spiders which wove their webs across his eyes while worms and termites burrowed into the hollow crevices of his immense body.
The dead belong to Nagash for Nagash is death itself, the final moment who rests at the end of eternity. Yet so many of his subjects lay beyond his will, even now his ghoulish mortarch Ushoran confirmed that the great king of Khemri had taken control of two of the Great Necromancer’s tomes, keeping them deep within Khemri’s maze of pyramids and obelisks to prevent Nagash’s followers from reclaiming them for their master’s use. The dead will know their master and swear fealty to him once more. They do not belong to Ptra, Ptra the Deceiver nor shall they find solace among Sigmar the Traitor or Khorne the Barbarian. All gods, whether of shadow or light are mere reflections of the void which Nagash inhabits.
‘Nagash is dead’ the people of this world had cried yet Nagash endured, Nagash turned inward, his mind consumed by memories forced to live and relive every single experience from the moment of his birth, perhaps even before then. Nagash found himself locked in his past, unable to change his mistakes, condemned to relive the over and over and over…every death, every failure, every lie, every betrayal, even those Nagash thought long purged from his memory, every one of the foul deeds he had found himself committed to rose up, taunted him. Nagash felt so ashamed, so naked, for while spiders crept, worms burrowed and termites gnawed his mind stripped him of everything, revealing how small he truly was. How even eternity’s final locus became insignificant when compared to the whole, how pointless his achievements had been, all powerful yet totally impotent in that power’s application, the mere husk of a man who should have died millennia before.
In this state, Nagash imagined every possible theory, every possible spell, every possible tome, every possible idea and then as he exhausted every possible combination of these things, in that precise moment, he felt his mind transcending, lifting away from his body to join with something greater than himself, greater than all things…and then, he heard a crack as a new-born spiderling emerged from the eggs placed in his eye sockets, all this had taken place within the time it took for a spider to lay its eggs. And so he was back at the beginning, utterly trapped, cursing the false deities and their disciples who denied Nagash his enlightenment, a mere deformed, unfinished thing, the God of Nothing. And so the process repeated itself in every detail. The third process was the same as was the next as was the next after that until finally after enduring a thousand lifetimes of mortal thoughts, all condensed into a matter of weeks and months by the Undying King, Nagash realised he could count himself the King of an Infinite Reality were it not for his enemies. They must be crushed, all must perish for them to rise again. The dead will heed his command and stand by his reign, not as a mere god of death but as the master of all oblivion. Nagash will not be denied, Nagash mustn’t be denied, Nagash cannot be denied.
And so, after all his weeks and months of meditating upon his throne within the confines of this dammed pyramid, Nagash finally attempted to stand once more. The webs which had been woven across his body scattered and all the critters and aranchnids that had made their home inside his hollow chest promptly suffocated as the wind of death flowed through him once more. Nagash looked upon his previous work, his attempt to recreate the late vampire countess Isabella von Carstein by repurposing the fallen Neferata’s skin onto the bones of a long deceased Tomb Queen and sewing it all together with spider’s silk. The initiative had proven itself a failure, leading Nagash to command Ushoran to hunt down an Arachnarok spider and bring home its strong webbing when last he stood but Nagash had grown tired of waiting, irked by his impotence and so decided to raise another in her stead.
For while Vampires were very particular about their form, the same could not necessarily be said for all the dead that would soon follow him. One man in particular had always hated his body in life and hoped to be freed from its shackles, the Lichemaster Heinrich Kemmler. Since Kemmler had always hated his body any way, Nagash could be excused for resurrecting him in a more skeletal form which he did by unearthing one of the tombs in this vast pyramid and filling it with Heinrich’s essence, a soul which had spent a very long time in his realm of the dead.
As the half-skeleton known Heinrich began to gain its bearings, Nagash took the Khopesh blade of the tomb king’s body and enhanced it into a new tomb blade, capable of instantly transfixing the souls of the people Kemmler killed into his master’s control. As for clothing, Nagash used his sight to detect a flock of carrion birds perched atop the floating pyramid, scraping their beaks atop its vast structure. Nagash took control and pulled them into the pyramid where they were promptly killed, deplumed and had their feathers sewn into a new set of dark robes and hat with the webbing from his failed Von Carstein strategy. Once completed, Nagash imbued these feathered robes with the ability to turn Kemmler into an undead carrion so that he could travel vast distances under his lord’s command. Yet as while Nagash was crafting a new staff made from carrion skulls, Kemmler seemed distracted. Where was Krell?
Kemmler felt himself drawn to his minion/companion, now more than ever on account of his undead status and so, with his master’s permission, he took on his bird form and flew in search of Krell’s body. When Krell has last been seen, it was during a fight with the Green Knight who slew him (#lorefight 1), therefore it seemed logical to Kemmler that the Knight will have buried Krell’s body somewhere in Bretonnia for safekeeping. However, it was unknown to him in what state the wight may be kept for the Green Knight had rather infamously been vanquished after attempting to rebuke the White Dwarf from treading on holy ground while drunk (#lorefight 4). Could it be possible that Krell’s tomb now lay forgotten and unguarded by the passage of time?
No, Kemmler knew that le Breton would never risk hiding such a powerful conduit within a derelict condition which made Heinrich’s quest far more attainable. Long ago, the Bretonnians attempted to keep the Staff of Nagash from his master by concealing it inside the fabled Abbey of La Maisontaal. Just as the Bretonnians couldn’t resist a large, overblown defensive structure when protecting the staff, Kemmler knew they would make the same fundamental error now. He flew in under the cover of darkness, dove through a grate in the terraced grounds outside and soared up through the drains, narrowly avoiding the streams of sewage which poured below his wingspan, until he emerged from the lavatories inside. He flew through the abbey, staying close to the ceiling and occasionally slashing at wondering monks’ heads with his talons if they saw him before descending into the abbey’s catacombs. The carrion scoured the abbey’s labyrinth of tunnels until, after what had seemed like an age, he found his fallen ally’s sarcophagus.
Kemmler reverted to his undead form and began casting his Invocation of Nehekh. By now the monks upstairs had found the bodies upstairs and were arming themselves. Battle pilgrims and holy wardens marched down into the catacombs in their hundreds, most dual wielding flaming swords and magically enhanced maces taken from fallen grail knights. But though the monks armed themselves well, they lacked the skill to better a Lichemaster. Kemmler continued his cast by planting his staff in the soil beneath him while he took on the monks with his khopesh-inspired Tomb Blade, slashing through them one by one while preventing their escape with powerful deathwind spells, each a soul damned to Nagash’s servitude for all eternity.
However, there was one thing Kemmler could never grasp despite his genius; that far greater champions were coming to stop him. Grombrindal was no fool, he knew well enough of the Green Knight’s vows to this sacred monastery and while the knight was gone, Grombrindal had passed this place’s protection onto new hands.
Far, far away from this place, near where the Iron Claw Orcs made their home, the famed adventurers Gotrek Gurnisson and Felix Jaeger were sitting by a campfire, reminiscing over their time together as they prepared for the quest that was to come. Having spent some time in Albion, the two adventurers were now preparing for their next mission, to travel deep beneath the world and help a Dwarf Prince reclaim his realm from Greenskin invaders. Yet their plans were interrupted when Gotrek’s Rune Axe of Grimnir, a twin to the White Dwarf’s own weapon began to glow faintly. Gotrek and Felix both stood up around the campfire to peer at the weapon when suddenly, the glow expanded into a sharp light which gobbled them up.
Down below the monastery, Kemmler finished off the last of the battle pilgrims and proceeded to raise them into undeath while the newly reanimated Krell clawed through the stone tomb in which he lay. Kemmler and Krell emerged from the catacombs with their magical weapon-wielding zombies behind them only to see their true challengers standing between the nave and the narthex of the Abbey, blocking their escape. Gotrek and Felix may not know how exactly they came here, but they now surely knew their purpose for being brought here. To annihilate these undead fiends once and for all!
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• Angry React: Krell advanced towards the bear-chested Dwarf with his Black Axe in hand while Kemmler ordered the zombie battle pilgrims to attack the human. The wight lunged towards the dwarf, swiping his axe through the air to gain a clean blow on the Dwarf who continually evaded his attacks. The Dwarf attempted to counter-attack, launching some ill-fated blows with his Rune Axe which merely clanged against the Barrows Armour rather than piercing it. Still, the Dwarf persisted, swinging again and again only to leave himself open to the Wight who proceeded to pierce his left thigh with his Black Axe. Gotrek continued to battle the undead chaos lord for some minutes but seemed to be tiring quicker than usual, for without realising it the Black Axe had planted jagged shards of metal deep in his body which by magical means were travelling up his arteries to stop his heart. Finally, after struggling through this agony for some time, Krell finished the Dwarf off by cutting horizontally through Gotrek chest just above the navel, thereby severing Gotrek’s torso from his lower body. Krell then planted his claws through Gotrek’s wounds, reached up and tore the Dwarf’s heart out which he proceeded to eat to prevent any reincarnations as a Dwarf deity.

Meanwhile, Kemmler was merely toying with the human warrior Felix Jaeger who could scarcely fend off the mass of magically-armed zombies let alone the Lichemaster himself. Felix fought the undead monks bravely, but foolishly, leaving himself to be hit in the jaw by a mace on more than one occasion. Finally, the Lichemaster’s patience ran thin and Kemmler proceeded to kill Felix with his Gaze of Nagash…..

• Love React: Krell advanced towards the bear-chested Dwarf with his Black Axe in hand while Kemmler ordered the zombie battle pilgrims to attack the human. The wight lunged towards the dwarf, swiping his axe through the air to gain a clean blow on the Dwarf who continually evaded his attacks. The Dwarf attempted to counter-attack, launching some ill-fated blows with his Rune Axe which merely clanged against the Barrows Armour rather than piercing it. Still, the Dwarf persisted, swinging again and again until finally, an opening emerged for him to cleave his axe through Krell’s left shoulder joint, where the armour was weaker to allow for manoeuvrability. Krell attempted to respond but Gotrek pressed his advantage further, carving his rune axe through one of Krell’s lower ribs to dislodge his breastplate from the skeleton’s chest until finally, the plate had moved enough for Gotrek to cut Krell’s head off and perform his finishing touch by shoving his axe through what remained of Krell’s chest.

Having destroyed Krell, Gotrek ran over to Felix and helped him fight off the undead battle pilgrims, thereby allowing Felix to dart over and stab Heinrich Kemmler through the chest with his sword.
….

• Sad React : Gotrek and Felix both charged towards Kemmler, thinking that Krell was only standing on account of Kemmler’s magic. Heinrich blasted a Gaze of Nagash towards Felix but Gotrek lept in front of Felix to take the full brunt of the spell. Gotrek was struck by the wizard’s pain and bellowed in anger before charging at the Lichemaster with ever greater ferocity. Kemmler signalled for the undead pilgrims to attack and lifted his own tomb blade but Gotrek hacked and slashed through them all growing more intense by the second. Finally, Gotrek broke through and removed Kemmler’s head from his shoulders. However, victory was stalled when Felix was suddenly smacked to the ground by Krell who was still standing unlike the zombies. Gotrek charged towards Krell only to lose an arm to the Black Axe. Krell then proceeded to slash Gotrek across the chest, infecting him and causing the Dwarf to drop dead after uttering the word “Finally.”

Krell continued its advance, never relenting as it swung its axe through the air, only missing Felix’s ducking motions by the narrowest of margins. Krell roared at its foe when suddenly, a bright green light shone through the door to the Abbey as the Green Knight rode in and struck its ethereal sword through Krell’s breast-plated chest, causing the Wight King to dissolve in an unholy burst of flame.
Yet the Green Knight disappeared again immediately afterwards, even before Felix could thank it for saving his life. Felix surveyed the devastation around him, he always knew this would happen some day, that Gotrek would go too far and pay the price for his heroism. Felix left the monastery and prepared to write the poem he promised to his ill-fated friend…..
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• Laugh React: Gotrek charged towards Krell with Felix tagging along behind. Kemmler sent the zombies forth to cover the wight king but Gotrek slew past them with ease and took the undead brute on himself, swiping and slashing with his runeaxe again and again as he hoped to make an opening for himself while Krell’s own axe and armour protected him from those blows. However, just as Gotrek was beginning to fear that Krell would soon go on the offensive, Felix suddenly slid below Krell’s axe, emerged behind the undead warrior, jumped on him and thrust his rune-sword through Krell’s would-be neckline, down past the rib-cage and into the chest. Finally, as Krell struggled to pull the sword out, Felix removed Krell’s helmet so Gotrek could deliver one last finishing blow to the Lord of Nagash with his Rune Axe.

Krell’s body shattered as a heap of bones and plate armour splattered all over the ground. Felix re-armed himself and alongside Gotrek, prepared to take Kemmler on. However, the Lichemaster simply transformed into his carrion form and flew away through an abbey window, escaping the heroes’ wrath.
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• Wow React: While this battle waged on in Bretonnia, the the cretinous Clan Skryre rejoiced at Skavenblight as their master Lord Morskittar unveiled the completed Zingecannon now known as the Morskittar Engine. Morskittar ordered enginner Skribolt to fix the weapon in a Northernly arch to fire at Nuln, the acting capital city of the Empire. However, just as Skribolt began turning the cannon’s dials, the lunatic warlock-engineer Zingetail leapt forward, strangled Skribolt with his tail and shot Morskittar with a stolen warpfire projector like Ikit Claw used to use. The Skaven rose in uproar to tear Zingetail from his limbs but it was too late, for Zingetail had a preset subroutine which enabled him to lock the cannon onto the moon with only a few taps of his paws. The cannon fired its payload directly at Morrslieb while Zingetail laughed maniacally below while being torn apart by his own clan. But it was too late, far too late. The moon shattered, sending millions of immense warpstone fragments down to the world’s surface which exploded upon impact, each with the force of 100 Doomspheres. And so the world ceased to be; Chaos, Order, Destruction, Death, none withstood this primordial apocalypse. (NO MORE LORE FIGHTS OPTION)