Well, with Adepticon basically starting today, there is not much time for any additional prep for the 3 tournaments I am doing. The last bits of work on the Grey Knight army board are being completed now, and I am printing out the revised story for the army.
Yesterday I reworked the fluff for my Lizardman army, updating them from the 2010 version, which was "The Temple of Blood and the Legend of Stikki Wikkit".
I needed to create a whole new story for this army, which has only one unit that is the same as the 'Temple restoration crew' which was brought in 2010. Even the army board is different!
In the original story, I had to explain why te whole army was essentially skinks... even the general. The concept was that the 'army' was really a crew of artisans and workers that was going around restoring old temples. All of the regular Sarus based units had been sent away as diversions.
So, here is the new story for the 2012 army!
The Return of Babo
As I meditate high atop the Temple of Blood, I survey the newly restored plazas and causeways which lead to this massive edifice. In the far distance, through the shimmering jungle mists I watch the trees shudder as beasts of burden continue to replace blocks and statues that had been displaced through conflict and neglect.
The four great Serpent Columns once again contain the vital crystals, thus keeping the Thirst of the temple stones in check.
It was but a few years ago, mere moments in the normal life of a Mage Priest, that I was banished to the Warp during the Great Cataclysm...the battle against the Demon which had unleashed a vast horde of foul beasts in order to claim those very crystals. With them, the Blood God could be made manifest trough the Temple of Blood, providing a gateway for the Host of Skulls.
At the very moment the surging hellspawn overcame the Sacred Host defending the Temple, I had cast the stones to the farthest corners of Lustria with the last of my strength in a bid to keep them from this terrible enemy.
While I succeeded in keeping the Crystals from the Demon, I was, in that moment, cast into the Abyss which is the ream of Chaos. Horrid visages plagued my every thought. Each second was a torture beyond imagination. Terrible shapes would emerge and them morph into something more awful just as quickly, bringing me closer and closer to utter madness. It seemed as if I had spent all eternity in this primordial Hell.
But I had foreseen it all.
Many cycles ago, I had seen the image of the long lost Temple, rising high through the impenetrable canopy of the forest, and the Demon who sought to possess it. For many centuries had I meditated over this vision, and what should be done. The epic battle for the Temple played out before me, with one Oldblood after another felled in a quest to protect the Temple, and in the end, me. Spears and shields proved of little use against the hideous apparitions which refused to succumb to mortal weaponry.
In my mind, I could conjure the image of great heroes emerging to save the lands of Lustria from this fate. I could see an unlikely Skink Chieftan whose bravery would know no limits, as he directed the Temple Restoration crews to the very steps of the Temple of Blood. Skies were darkened by the wings of terradon flocks while the earth itself quaked beneath the footfalls of the great Stegadons. Glowing gateways of energy were perched upon their massive bulks, with priests furiously directing blasts of energy to smite the would be desecrators.
Incredulously, I saw skink artisans become ferocious warriors, banded together with their Kroxigor labourers in massive formations, feared by the child races and monsters alike.
I could also see my own torment, terror inflicted at the hands of the denizens of the Warp. While I did all I could to prepare myself for centuries in advance, the savage infiltration of my very soul was nearly too much to bear, as I almost lost myself countless times. It was essential that I remain there for as long as possible, so as to create the illusion that I had been destroyed, and that Lustria now lay undefended and open to destruction. Only the restoration of the Crystals, and the incantations of Tette-ekko saved what was left of myself.
In my absence, it was Tette-ekko who used his own mastery of the Heavens to rain down waves of destruction from the skies. He manipulated his calculations time and again, directing the mighty Saurus to march far afield to distract the encroaching demon kin from the true location of the Crystals. It was he who had helped to restore me, reciting the necessary incantations to free me from my warp prison. When I did emerge, I was greatly weakened, so it fell to this diminutive yet powerful skink priest to stave off the never ending invasions.
With the Temple now secured, the diversionary forces of Temple Guard and Saurus warriors have returned from their far flung campaigns, and have now rejoined me to defend the restored Temple against new and never ending waves of marauders and barbarians of the ape men. Now that their work of repairing the glyphs and other constructs of the Temple is complete, the most ferocious and capable skinks have now formed into a fighting unit referred to by one of the child races as a ‘skink tank’. They fight alongside thundering cold ones, whose expert riders maintain control over their scaly steeds by the narrowest of margins.
However, while I had foreknowledge of my eventual return, I could not know what the consequence would be of the method of my ‘return’. So much blood had been spilled upon the ancient stones of the Temple... that even with the crystals, the Thirst could emerge once again. As a result, maintaining the balance would require me to remain here at the Temple forever. My fate is inextricably tied to this place, for all time.
I shall remain here, focusing my magics on the Temple, as centuries turn to millennia, and then to aeons. Eventually, I will become little more than a shrivelled husk, as the Great Master Kroak, bound in wrappings, unmoving, staring ever into the great Abyss...
My most recent ruminations and meditations have revealed a new threat. A great danger rises to the East. A desolate place of twisted sands and shattered Temples... the lands of the Khemri. This growing and insidious threat is not a God of Blood, as had sought to claim this sacred yet dangerous place, but a God of Lies. Even now, his tendrils have found their way ever deeper into the minds of the ape men who willingly or unknowingly do his bidding.
This is a picture that shows the Temple, and a good portion of the army that was brought in 2010(remember- no Temple Guard, mage priest, etc.)
For those who are not familiar with the original story, here it is...
The Temple of Blood and the Legend of Stiki Wikitt
It seemed as if all the laws of the Universe had been violated at once, in the most hideous and violent ways. Death, destruction, and despair polluted the very fabric of time and space as the innumerable hordes tore away at mind, body and soul.
The very earth itself seemed to bleed as endless numbers of warp-spawned creatures hacked, clawed and tore at the Temple, and what was left of the Sacred Host.
I had known of this event for many eons. The stars had shown me, a warning from the Most Ancient Ones. Now the Skull Demon had come, and ultimately the Temple would fall. In great fiery blasts I call down stones from the heavens, slaying ten times a thousand of the nameless horrors. Ten times that ten thousand warp spawn take their place.
Timeless meditation was not enough to prepare me to defend this, one of our most sacred, and certainly most dangerous, Temples. The glyphs so carefully carved by skink craftsmen meant to protect the Temple began to morph into blasphemous shapes as stones cracked and shattered. I could feel the four Great Serpent columns beneath me shudder and weaken with the deluge.
The savage warp beasts were now upon me, and all hope was lost. As they tore at my own flesh, I saw a massive creature, more terrible to behold than the entire great host. Blood, fire and hatred radiated from the abomination. Blacker than night, brighter than any star, He beheld me, and knew that the victory He had sought since the first Daemonic incursions had been achieved.
With the final intact shreds of my mind, I sought out the power crystals, which still remained in the eyes of the four Serpent Columns. They must not fall into the possession of the vanquishers. Just before my body is disintegrated in the blast of daemonic energy directed at me, I cast the four crystals into obscurity and oblivion, so that the Skull Demon would be denied his long sought after prize, and could not use the Temple as a gateway for the annihilation of Lustria.
At once the tumult coalesced into a great shriek, for without the four crystals; the deamonic host could not exist. Flesh and demon alike were banished from the land, and sent back to the hellish realm between the stars.
All that remained were the stones. Stones that had been drenched in the blood of the fallen Sacred Host and the foul entrails of the baleful creatures. The stones had tasted more than the blood of the ancient ceremonial sacrifices, and the Thirst began.
I fly over the impenetrable canopy below, using all my senses to search for any enemy. Even the slightest disturbances go unnoticed. The leathery flapping of great wings,
Which could not drown out the cacophony of jungle sounds for so many months are now all that can be heard.
Why could the child races not sense this unnatural state? Was it the unquenchable thirst for meaningless trinkets that drew them to this land for so long? Did they feel safer here, with no denizens of the Jungle to threaten them?
I see evidence of the folly of the lesser races everywhere. The land has reclaimed their primitive settlements. Time after time, these lesser beings would construct their flimsy villages, seeking to plunder what they could from the land and the Temple.
Their tiny minds could not understand that the very stones upon which they walked would eventually destroy them.
Though I am but a lowly chieftain, I can sense the hunger of the Stones. Perhaps they know of our approach. Do they know of the cargo of which we carry?
In the few gaps in the trees I can see the work details which I have led many times to restore lesser temples and cities. Scribe skinks, glyph skinks and metal workers direct the hulking beasts of burden, clearing out fallen serpent steles which have lead us here to this site.
Those skinks deemed incompetent for use in temple restoration have had their skills honed with the blowpipe, felling many hapless ape-men along our journey. Priests ride upon massive beasts of burden, which trample the overgrown vegetation spread out on the once glorious roads, and causeways that lead to the Temple. In addition to their normal use for clearing the most immovable of objects, two of these horned creatures carry the precious Gifts from the Gods. Portable gateways through which we will be able to securely transfer the vital crystals once the temple has been reached.
Quests of such importance have always been lead by the Oldbloods, or even Mazdamundi himself! I could never have dreamed that I, Stiki Wikitt, skink chieftain, would be entrusted with reclaiming the Temple of Blood.
While we approach the Temple, a much larger formation replete with the greatest of our heroes and Mage Priests has been sent to another ruined city. We have done this for we know that the sorcerers of the elf kind have had fleeting visions of the Dark Power emanating from the Stones. The puny minds of the elf kind cannot comprehend the true nature of the Temple, however.
It is known that the Skull Demon, though banished so long ago, still seeks to claim dominion over the Temple, and all of Lustria. He has been watching through eternity, ever vigilant. We must complete our journey while the Great Army distracts him.
I fear that even if we succeed, I shall lead no more restoration quests. It is likely that we shall all be consumed. Only the priests have the protections needed to thwart the thirst of the stones, so that the four serpent columns will once again have the gleaming Eye crystals in place. Only then can the Temple be under control of the Scaly host once more.
This is my duty, but it is the will of the Old Ones as well.
