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High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer surveyed the vast throng of Dwarfs gathered before him. Every soul in the great hold of Karaz-a-Karak had answered his summons. Pleased, the High King raised his hands high in the air and the great crowd fell silent.
"Hear me, sons of Grungni! Ye all know that Karak Eight Peaks has fallen to the greenskins. A new warlord has risen from the ranks of our ancient enemies, and on his hands is the blood of every brave dwarf who fought to defend our mighty hold. I've come before you today to tell ye that the time has come to repay that debt in kind!"
A chorus of cheers and applause answered the High King, and he let the sound echo from the towering stone walls of the chamber before he continued.
"I've heard it told that some of ye think the end times may at last be here, that the doom of the Dwarfs is at hand. Perhaps some of ye think we should grab what gold we can and tunnel deep down, to spend our last days cowering in holes while the world is consumed in the fires of war. I stand before ye today to say no!"
At this, the High King held aloft the great Dammaz Grom, the Book of Grudges, so that all could see. "We'll not run and hide while there are grudges still to be answered! We will retake Karak Eight Peaks, and we will slaughter every last Orc and Goblin we find inside!"
A mighty roar erupted from the crowd. The High King nodded and set the book down before him. He now lifted a finely-wrought hammer from the ground at his feet. It shone as bright as the full moon, and was adorned with large blue gems of perfect clarity. He held the masterfully-crafted hammer high, and the Dwarfs before him fell into an awed silence. Never before had they seen a hammer of such fine craftsmanship.
"Behold, the first Doomstriker! Forged by the greatest smiths and made of the finest materials to be found: ore from the Bitterstone Mine, oathgold from the Marshes of Madness, brightstone from the mines of Gunbad, and gromril from the lost vaults of Thunder Mountain! It is a weapon the like of which has not been seen since the golden age of our people, and 'tis but the first of many."
Excited whispers spread through the crowd, but the High King was not yet finished.
"To forge more Doomstrikers, we will need to bolster our supplies of ore, gold, and gems, but we will use only the finest of each. For this task, I hereby decree the founding of a new order, the Oathbearers. Any Dwarf who thinks he has the grit to venture to the most dangerous places in the world may join, but any who enlist must swear an oath to me, to fight, and if necessary, to die in defense of the Dwarf people.
"As a reward for this honor, each Oathbearer will receive a Doomstriker weapon, and will have the honor of leading our attack on the greenskins! Now, who among ye will do his ancestors proud and join us?"
The great throng of Dwarfs surged forward, hands raised. The High King beamed with pride, and raised his Doomstriker high.
"Uzkul a urki!" he cried out. Death to the Orcs!
"Uzkul a urki!" roared the Dwarfs in reply.
For the first time in over half a year, the struggle between the Greenskins and Dwarfs rises up again to overtake the battlefields in a seething battle of ancient grudges. This month in Closed Beta, The Bloody Sun Boyz clashed with The Oathbearers in our latest Focus Test. The ferocious and bestial Orcs and Goblins began their adventure in Mount Bloodhorn, while the Dwarfs found their homeland of Ekrund in dire need of their aid.
Our beta community was able to witness firsthand the countless hours of effort the development team has put into this pairing since the Greenskins and Dwarfs were tested last fall. Players worked together in Public Quests, Scenarios, and Open World RvR to tip the scales of battle in their own realm’s favor. In this first phase, players were also able to explore the peaceful side of Altdorf, and were able to explore the Inevitable City for the first time ever!
As if that wasn’t exciting enough, we opened up the Dark Elf and High Elf areas once more and allowed them to call upon their Chaos and Empire allies to join in the battle. In the end, eighteen careers were open with a total of six races available to play; which brought us closer to the true WAR than we have ever been this far! Here’s a sampling of what was available this round:
- Greenskin and Dwarf Tiers One, Two and Three
- High Elf and Dark Elf Tiers One, Two and Three
- Eighteen careers open, with Career Mastery
Order
Dwarf: Ironbreaker, Runepriest, Engineer
High Elf: Swordmaster, Archmage, Shadow Warrior
Empire: Witch Hunter, Bright Wizard, Warrior Priest
Destruction
Greenskin: Black Orc, Shaman, Squig Herder
Dark Elf: Disciple of Khaine, Witch Elf, Sorceress
Chaos: Chosen, Zealot, Marauder
- Siege Testing
- More crafting, with improved interface
- Gunbad Dungeon!
- Peaceful Altdorf!
- Peaceful Inevitable City!
Correspondence
The following letters and writings, bloodied and torn, have been intercepted by various factions throughout the fields of battle.
***
The Fallen Dwarf
It was a cold morning in the mountains. This high up, you could see for miles, but the young dwarf only saw one thing, the battered and broken body of a goblin. The culprit, an old dwarf, lay only a few feet away. His massive great hammer was still gripped firmly by one hand though he was long dead, and a letter clutched in the other. Gently, the young dwarf took the letter from his hand and began to read it.
To whoever finds this,
I have no wife, no children, no friends, all of them lost with Karak. All I have left is my hammer. It's a good hammer, one of the best. Together we fought countless greenskins in countless battles. It was my father's before me, and his father's before him. I once thought it would be my son's, but now it's yours.
Use it well, treat it with respect and it will not fail you.
My strength is failing fast. That wretched goblin, what was he doing this far into the mountains alone? Caught me by surprise with a spear in my back. My trusty hammer made short work of him, but the damage has been done. I don't have the strength to climb down the mountain any more. I don't have much time left, but I have no regrets. I went out fightin', just like my father did and I always knew I would.
Take my hammer and keep fightin'. You've got to keep fightin' until the end, until we've won our land back, until we've avenged every last one we've lost.
The young dwarf put the letter in his pocket, and slowly took the hammer from the fallen dwarf. After a moment to pay his respects to the fallen dwarf, he headed back down the mountain. Again he ignored the view, thought only of continuing the fight where the fallen dwarf had left it. He saw only victory against the armies of Destruction. He would fight until the end, just as the fallen dwarf had, and he would have no regrets.
***
Chaos on da Brain
Da secund day ov da secund year bit fingy.
Today I killd lots of stunties, and fixed up lots of me mates so I made Gork AND Mork happy. I like Gork the best but shhhh don't tell enywun.
I like killin stuff and fixing me mates its good for da WAAAGH!
Tomowwow I is gonna visit a big city dem Chaos humies call it da erevitib inamblamb sumfunk city. Its big! Bigger dan me friend Basha da black orc and he's REAL big so dis city is REAL REAL big.
I iz gonna go sleep now da next time I put suff in dis book I iz gonna be in da big city!
The 3rd of February.
I write this entry as I sit on the steps near the great Monolith of Chaos. Energy and change radiate off it in waves that wash over me, feeling like a physical manifestation of time and space in concentrated busts. I feel the work of Tzeentch on my mind as well as my body, changing me in ways I cannot begin to describe.
I have spent the day wandering the Inevitable City's streets and walkways and I have seen things I could never imagine, from the magus keep to the halls of the lyceum, my mind couldn't possibly have been prepared for what is here. The city also sees me. There are eyes everywhere, watching and seeing everything.
I shall endeavour ta kill a big bunch of stunties ta make up for da time away. Gork and
Mork shall be most pleased by my efforts ta kill and fix stuff! I fink a bit o killin n fixing will help make me brain feel gud agen too. Killin an fixing iz da bestest fing in da world!
I don't know if I like this place, it leaves me feeling changed. I preferred it when things were simple. I have done what I set out to do here, so tonight I shall leave the city, I am sure my brothers will welcome my return back to their midst where I can bestow my gifts of healing upon them while I rain down destruction on my foes.
I shall end this entry with a warning to all who may read this: Do not expect to be the same after visiting this city, it will change you.
Da wait da forf day of da secund year bit fingy.
WAAAGH! I iz back an fightin wit da boyz, back where I belong in da fick of tings. Dat big city I dun saw yestaday hurt me brain too much.
***
Marshes of Madness
Day 12...
Half of my group is gone now, many fallen to the deadly jagged strikes of the enemy, and some dragged screaming down into the depths of the bog. Nature is equally an enemy to be feared, one wrong step could prove fatal. The image of a desperate hand clawing for purchase before disappearing beneath the fetid waters will haunt me for some time. A strange fever had taken yet another priest from us, he was covered in a creeping rash, and had what looked to be multiple bite wounds along his belly. There were only three of us left to accompany the regiment of Engineers and Ironbreakers. Each day we moved doggedly forward to meet the Greenskin host, clashing in the swampy bayou, the marshes littered with broken bodies and the stagnant waters became stained with red. There was not even a breeze to carry away the scent, a mixture of rotten leaves, decaying bodies, and the smell of the enemy smothered us, the moist heat making it hard to breathe without gagging.
I found myself crouched over someone today, I did not even know his name, and despite my best efforts I knew that he could not survive his wounds. His ribs had been crushed and his belly slashed open, my hands were slippery with his blood. I did what I could to call upon the power of my runes to ease his suffering. He grabbed my wrist and a raspy voice rattled in his chest.
"Dinna tell me ma' I lost me beard, lass. Dinna' tell her. Promise me." The dwarf gripped my wrist painfully, near delirious in the last moments of his life, yet his pride still intact. A massive black orc had slashed off his beard, taking off the tip of his chin with it. The long red braid was probably already swinging from the monstrosity's belt now. I stroked my hand over his brow, his breath growing slower, his eyes no longer able to focus on my face, until he was gone. I could hear the fighting just over the hill, the clash of hammer and shield, and the cries of the wounded. I gently closed his eyelids with my fingertips.
If reinforcements do not arrive soon, I fear that we are doomed to be swallowed up by this place.
***
Letter to My Brother
Dear Brother,
Why da 'eck ain't you 'ere? Too much fun we'z havin'ere on da Front!
So many stunties ta bash. Just da other day I bashed one on da head while he wus taken'a wee off da docks! You shulda seen dat bloody twit scramble 'round tryin'ta pull up his trousers when he seen me comin' at'em. HAHA! You dunt know wut yur missin' bro!
So 'ows yur little squig doin'? I can't seem ta remember it's name, or wus it Murv? You can even take it along if ya'wunt. Me thinks youse jus better off bringin dat Big Basha Papa left you. It's already seen it's way into a few stunties hasn't it! I still can't beleev Papa challenged dat big git over sum disgusting stuntie beer! Wut'was he finkin! Drunk as he wus, he still put up a gud fight though.
So git yur greenskin backside down 'ere before I come lookin' for ya! I'll be surr'ta save youse a stunty or two.. err maybe not..
Your Bro,
Murok da Black Orc
***
Squig Launcher?
To: Requisition Office
Type: Requisition Order
Request: Building Materials, Class II
Requestor: Brimold, Engineer
Reason: (Following is a direct dictation from Engineer Brimold transcribed by Aelior, high elven Archmage stationed on-site – or as well as he can make out)
Damn this thrice-cursed piece o’ goblin dung! Tis like a greenskin buil’ it! This turret’ll ne’er las’ the week! Here I be with my mates sittin’ on this horde o’ gems for the Doomstrikers, waitin’ for transport when we be attacked! I be tryin’ me hardes’ to defend this here place from those fool Sun Boyz o’ wha’ev’r they fancy themsel’es but I kin only be buil’in trash wit’ wha’ I ‘ave. I need me some truly outstandin’ parts to build me a turret proper-like! I saw a wild pack o’ lumberin’ green apes run through and trash me mates’ turrets like they was nuthin’ but paper! Great Thorgrim’s Beard Buckles! Like paper! Ne’er before has dwarf engineerin’ fallen so low!
Now dun get me wrong. Them turrets be fine on their own fightin’ wolves, but we no’ fightin’ wolves! We be fightin’ orcs o’ the blackest kind, and even worse: squigs…and lo’s o’ ‘em. Now…I kin imagine you sittin’ there readin’ this wi’ a dumb expression on yer face thinkin’ ‘squigs? Now how is them worse ‘en orcs o’ the blackest kind?’. Well…I’ll tell ye. Orcs be fierce, no doubtin’, but they not be in the numbers we be seeing these squigs! This place be crawlin’ wit ‘em! And what’s worse ‘en their numbers? The smell. Downright putrid! I saw me own cousin belchin’ out his own breakfast they smell so bad! And he’s a hearty one!
‘So how’s this ha’e anythin’ to do wit’ this requisition order’ you be askin’. Well, wha’s the best way to be fightin’ a squig? From a distance, o’ course – that way you cannae smell ‘em. And to be fightin’ from a distance, I need to be builin’ me best turret! But I cannae do tha’ unless I be havin’ the proper buildin’ materials! So there be yer damnable reason. I’ll be waitin’ for the materials in the usual place. Dun leave me waitin’!
To: Brimold, Engineer
From: Requisition Office
Type: Requisition Denial
Reason: Fellow engineer! It be known the squig menace is something bad in your area, but at this time, we be unable to comply with your requisition order. We currently do not have the available materials. When the material be made available, we will send it to you post-haste. Meanwhile, it be suggested by our educated elven brethren that you should make clever with items near at hand as your materials. Since it seems you are swamped with squigs dead or living, it was suggested: “squig launcher”. That is all.
***
I’z tink I’z shuld Leggit
So der we wuz, in da Marshes o' Madness. Boss had uz takin bak sum place da little gits wanted, dey said der was lottsa armor an whutnot dey had stashed der in a pile. Some stunties had chased off da gobbos an Boss wanted it bak.
We truged threw da swamp, "over der" dis and "go datta way" dat. We got tired of da gits bossin us 'rund so we's nabbed un. I'z got a bite outta 'is ear 'fore 'e got away. Us'n Orcs all hadda gud laff over dat. Da gobbos let us alone after dat an jus followed. Dey's hard to nab when dey's git scared.
Well, we'z got to da armor pile, an us'n Orcs picked furst dibz. We wuz pickin out da best stuffz when we hurd da gobbos squeelin'. Us'n Orcs startud laffin' at da gits runnin 'round scared, when one of dem yellt "Stunties!" an' pointed up in da air.
Dem gobbos 'ave tricked me 'fore, so I'z wazn't gonna luk up, but den I hurd da stuntie boomstikz start blastin'. Dem stunties wuz up in da treez! Us'n Orcs tried lobbin' choppas up at dem, but der wuz too many. We wuz gonna chop down da treez but alla da scardey gits started runnin' off. Us'n Orcs wur not gunna stand 'round gitten shotted at wit out da gobbos waaagh. So we'z run off too. Boss iz gunna be reel mad at us, I'z tink I'z gunna leggit 'fore we git bak.
Screenshots
The screenshots below have been taken by our Beta Testers during their various adventures in search of glory and honor!
Preview
Thick smoke rises from Black Fire Pass and the Badlands alike, choking out the air from every crevice as the ruthless battle between the Bloody Sun Boyz and The Oathbearers rages on. Even with the aid of all of their allies on both sides, the victor is impossible to foretell. The WAR has come to a climax as mighty guilds are called upon from near and far to aid in the torrential storm! Read about the latest developments in the next issue of News From the Front!
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