Meadows of Heaven

Don't worry everyone I'm not dead. Well not yet at least. The small eternity since I last posted is due to a combination of the annual mid-year university assignment dump taking longer than anticipated to burn through, good old fashioned forgetfulness and the fact that painting terrain is really long hard work.

And with that, a short while ago I finished my first ever piece of terrain, ever, a Citadel Wood.

And here, with some of my Hobby Minions(tm) in it.

And finally with it some backstory about my growing Wood Elf army.

The Meadows of Heaven 

Deep within the forest of Athel Loren lies the shifting realm of the Meadows of Heaven, a secret place known to few outside the Asrai. Though it is a prosperous and stable realm, it's leaders hold little sway over the rest of The Forrest, for the realm has in recent years declared itself independent of all of the 12 eternal realms of the wood.

Geography

The location of places within Athel Loren hold little meaning, for the glades and pathways within the great forest frequently shift and move. This is especially prominent with the Meadows of Heaven, for the entire territory regularly changes it's position within Athel Loren, appearing near the Pine Glades one week, and being near the edge of the Wild Heath the next, and it is as much for this reason as the territory's recent political estrangement that the Meadows of Heaven is not marked on most maps of Athel Loren. As a general rule of thumb however, the Meadows of Heaven tends to follow a rough orbit of the Oak of Ages, and never enters the region of the Wildwood.

As well as this constant shifting within Athel Loren, the various provinces within the Meadows of Heaven often shift and move as well. However, they never stray particularly far from the 'centre' of the territory, at the heart of which lies an artefact whose origins and purpose are a mystery even to this day. The object itself is a massive sphere partially surrounded by a crescent like border, not unlike the blade of a large pendulum, and is covered by intricate designs. It is known to hold vast magical power, and it's discovery marked the founding of the Meadows of Heaven, and so its silhouette forms the royal insignia of the Meadows of Heaven to this day.

If one were to look upon a map of Athel Loren with the Meadows of Heaven marked upon it, they would notice that the territory itself is tiny, barely a fraction of the size of even the smaller Eternal Realms. Despite this, the various areas of the territory hold a diverse array of specialisations and capacities, almost creating a miniature form of Athel Loren, and so the Meadows of Heaven are largely self-sufficient, which has proven fortunate in recent times. Some of the more notable provinces within the Meadows of Heaven include:

Imaginaerum

The Capital of the Meadows of Heaven, Imaginaerum is the only province within the territory that never changes location, as it is centred around the great object at the heart of the area, which itself dominates the front of the royal hall of the Meadows of Heaven, the seat of government for the Meadows of Heaven and a grand place that also holds the great emblems of each of the noble households that a Wishmaster may be from, as wells as countless treasures. Other features of interest within Imaginaerum include the royal treasury of the Meadows of Heaven, the largest concentration of the territory's wealth (though in truth much of the territory's wealth is highly decentralised and just as much of it is dispersed amongst numerous secret caches to prevent theft), and the royal armoury of the Meadows of Heaven, a vast stockpile of arms and armour, including a magnificent collection of magical items, some common throughout the world, and some which are barely heard of outside it's confines.

The Glade of Poppies

The Glade of Poppies is the largest centre of learning and knowledge within the Meadows of Heaven. It was devastated during Cyanathair's first assault on Athel Loren, but has since largely recovered, though the prized poppies that give the area it's name have yet to reach their original height. This area is also the primary site of manufacture for much of the weapons and armour and the magical items used by the Meadows of Heaven. Of interesting note is that many of these magical items still use older designs no longer in use by much of the rest of Athel Loren, and so many of them are subtly different. A Bow of Loren made within the Meadows of Heaven, for example, will not deliver as many shots as one made from elsewhere in Athel Loren, but instead will be more accurate, and can be used in combination with enchanted arrows. The enchanted arrows themselves use designs less well-suited for large-scale production, and so are limited in use only to individuals of significant status, but include varieties not used by other territories of Athel Loren.

The Celestial Heath and the Fey Glades

The Fey Glades are the centre of magical knowledge and lore within the Meadows of Heaven, and are strange and wondrous places filled with fantastical occurrences and creatures of magic, and it is said that at night the glades glow with faerie light. This area is centred around the Celestial Heath, a grassy hill upon which grows a single tree, the Celestial Tree, from which the twisting skeins of fate can be seen amongst the stars and the passage of the moons with uncanny clarity, and so the Celestial Heath is the primary place of scrying and fortune-reading amongst the Meadows of Heaven, and home to it's greatest seers and prophetesses. Magic study and lore within the Meadows of Heaven is tightly controlled, with many lores of magic being illegal within the territory, and so study around these outlawed lores mainly centres around ways to dispell them. The Meadows of Heaven never took part in the study of Dark Magic that many of the other realms of Athel Loren conducted during the Season of Lunacy, and while this shielded the territory from the Dark Magic's corrupting effects, it also means that to this day mages from the Meadows of Heaven are unable to make use of Dark Magic. At the same time, the lore of High Magic has almost completely been forgotten amongst the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven, but the territory is also one of the last remaining places that retains knowledge of the fabled Lore of Athel Loren, a strange fey strain of magic said to come from the very power of the forest itself.

The Dead Gardens

The Dead Gardens are the main burial ground in the Meadows of Heaven, and are the final resting place for many of it's greatest heroes, as well as every Wishmaster that has ruled over the territory. At the heart of this area is a large artefact much like the one within Imaginaerum, but partially shattered and half-buried in the ground. Unlike the rest of Athel Loren, the spirits of fallen Asrai in the Meadows of Heaven never form into Tree-kin, and indeed rarely linger within the world at all, with those few who do remaining largely confined to the Meadows of Heaven. Though this makes the area a darkened and haunted place, even more so than the rest of Athel Loren, it also means that Asrai who journey there can sometimes communicate with these spirits of the dead, though this is not a common occurrence. The area is thought to hold powerful magic, and has in recent times become a target of a number of corrupt individuals.

The three rivers

There are three rivers that run through the Meadows of heaven. It is believed that they run mostly underground from the mountains near the forest, for while they sometimes appear in other parts of Athel Loren, they are only consistently found within the Meadows of Heaven. One of them, the River of Riches, is filled with an abundance of metals, gold and precious stones that line its bed, and is the primary source of mineral wealth within the Meadows of Heaven. Another, the Ghost River, is a stream of immensely potent magical energy that flows all around the world, and is a dangerous and terrible force. A contingent of Waywatchers from the Meadows of Heaven has taken up guarding this river as their mission and duty. The final river, the Iskalia or the Singing Maiden, is largely an ordinary river and provides the Meadows of Heaven with a source of fresh water as well as the occasional fish.

The Glade of Twilight

A small and secretive glade within the Meadows of Heaven, those who reside here are extremely isolationist, even by the standards of the Meadows of Heaven (which is itself one of the more isolationist-leaning parts of Athel Loren). The Asrai who dwell within the Glade of Twilight are predominantly a Warrior Kindred, and hone their skills in combat to an incredible degree, and also practice limited amounts of divination and scrying, though not to the same extent as those of the Celestial Heath. Exactly why the Asrai of this area are so secretive, and what they mean by 'mastering the darkness', remains a mystery even to the rest of the Meadows of Heaven...

The Invisible Fortress

The Invisible Fortress surrounds the boarder of the Meadows of Heaven, and is the territory's primary line of defence against attack from enemies. It is a dense network and gauntlet of sentry posts, war-camps, strongpoints, bastions and walls formed from intertwining trees, deepwood alters that drive nearby trees into a killing frenzy, traps and other such defences that extends for some length into the Meadows of Heaven itself, and is notorious for its strength against even the fiercest assaults. Indeed, in the entire history of the Wood Elves, the Invisible Fortress has only been breached once, during Cyanathair's first onslaught at the start of the Secret War.

The Elvenpath

The Elvenpath is a long and winding trail through Athel Loren and forms the main point of passage into the Meadows of Heaven, and indeed with the Invisible Fortress in place its only point of entry without magical assistance. Though it's exact locations change, it stretches throughout all of Athel Loren, and always ends at the Meadows of Heaven, regardless of the territory's current position. Because of this the Elvenpath forms the main link between the Meadows of Heaven and the rest of the forest, though in times of war it's entry point to the Meadows of Heaven will often be blocked with tree-sung woods.

As well as these there are numerous small halls, shrines, streams, springs, glades and other such places scattered throughout the Meadows of Heaven. Despite its name, the territory is largely dense woodland, with only a few small meadows being present, most of which are used as stable glades.

The same mystical force that binds the various parts of the Meadows of Heaven together also acts as an equalising force in regards to the magic that permeates the rest of Athel Loren, such that the Meadows of Heaven will always follow the time of day and seasonal passage of the outside world, regardless of where in Athel Loren the territory currently presides. It will remain daylight in the Meadows of Heaven for the entirety of the day in the rest of the world (or rather the entirety of the day percieved through Athel Loren) even if the territory is currently within the bounds of Modryn. Likewise, if the world is in the clutches of Summer and the Wild Hunt rides across the lands surrounding Athel Loren, the Meadows of Heaven will also be in Summer even when in Atylwyth. This effect also extends to the area immediately surrounding the Meadows of Heaven, and so Asrai from other realms in Athel Loren can sometimes experience this difference themselves, to varying opinions and reactions.

Society

The Meadows of Heaven was originally founded by a large portion of social misfits and independent-minded souls, and so Asrai from the territory have a tradition and reputation of being both very individualistic and extremely stubborn. They are also occasionally known to be highly emotional, leading to them becoming extremely passionate about subjects dear to them as well as quick to anger or offend. The Meadows of Heaven is one of the few territories of Athel Loren that still retains the older system of kindreds, and examples of every kindred from the past of Athel Loren can be found within it's dominion.

The ruler of the Meadows of Heaven is known as the Wishmaster, a regional title, and this individual will carry both the royal crown of the Meadows of Heaven and the King's Longsword. Unlike many other places in the world, the royal crown of the Meadows of Heaven, a slender thing made from silver and bronze, holds little value, and the primary symbol of office is the King's Longsword, a large two-handed sword forged by Daith himself on commission many seasons before the Meadows of Heaven politically distanced themselves from the other Eternal Realms. Though there is usually only a single Wishmaster, their partner, if there is indeed one, is known to be able to command great sway with them, and the couple of Moenaeron and Lyraelle famously shared the title of Wishmaster throughout their reign.

The Wishmaster will also appoint a royal court, which will include a number of mages from the Fey Glades and the Celestial Heath (Aneaeth Ollissin has traditionally been one of these, though there are instances of her not being part of the royal court), a royal standard bearer to carry the Wishmaster's personal standard, a number of other nobles, and a King's Executioner. The King's Executioner is a title unique to the Meadows of Heaven, and acts as the Wishmaster's avatar in personal combat should the Wishmaster decide not to partake in a challenge, as well as dispatching enemies the Wishmaster harbours particular wrath towards. Because of this the King's Executioner will always fill in the role as champion of the Meadows of Heaven during disputes between realms, instead of the Eternal Guard usually appointed this task. While such an unorthodox action is not universally accepted by the other realms of Athel Loren, they are often forced to resign to it, as the response is usually a second challenge to address the matter, of which the King's Executioner is again appointed as representative and whom often proves the victor in both matches.

Strangely, despite their famously independent mindset, the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven still use the older leadership titles of Noble and Highborn rather than the names of Glade Lord and Glade Captain used by the rest of Athel Loren. Magic practitioners are however still known as Spellsingers and Spellweavers.

Asrai from the Meadows of Heaven use a slightly different dialect than those from the rest of Athel Loren. While it is largely the same as the more common form of Asrai language, and similar enough that Elves from the Meadows of Heaven and the rest of Athel Loren can usually understand each other, a number of words have slightly different meanings in the Meadows of Heaven, and the Asrai from the territory have a number of unique quirks, colloquialisms and idioms in their speech.

There is also a strong tradition of storytelling in the Meadows of Heaven, and nearly everyone who dwells there will have a favourite tale to tell or hear. Because of this the Meadows of Heaven are one of the few places besides the nymiad court to retain written histories and records, though in this instance these tend to focus mainly on the Meadows of Heaven rather than the greater part of Athel Loren. Likewise, skalds from the Meadows of Heaven also tend to be very accurate when retelling histories of the Wood Elves, though there are still a fair number who will twist the truth to their own ends and so the ceremonial dances of Loec are still the only way to guarantee an accurate historical retelling.

The Meadows of Heaven have traditionally been isolationist even by the standards of the Asrai, almost never interfering in the affairs of other lands unless it was of paramount importance to Athel Loren's safety, though it's armies have frequently mounted sorties into foreign lands to conduct various secret missions. The territory also nonetheless holds strong ties with a large number of the Great Eagles that ally themselves with the Elves, as well as many of the forest's other creatures, though the number of forest spirits within the Meadows of Heaven has historically been much lower than the rest of Athel Loren. It is also then strange to note that the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven will on occasion accept individuals from other areas into their domain and treat them with genuine hospitality, though they are rarely allowed to return. Perhaps most notable of these individuals are the Bretonnian Damsel Sharon D'adele and the human girl Alicia Liddenell. Needless to say, this is always treated with a large amount of suspicion by the rest of the Asrai in Athel Loren.

Unlike the rest of Athel Loren, the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven do not worship the entire Elven pantheon, having long ago concluded that most of the Elven gods had abandoned them. Only Isha and Kurnous are still worshipped, and even then the exact practices are often different from the rest of Athel Loren. For example, the Talon of Kurnous is not practised by the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven, who instead prefer to honour the great hunter by unleashing a first strike of a hundredscore arrows, considering the enemy army itself to be prey more than any individual in it. Many of the Asrai in the rest of Athel Loren consider this to be heresy, but many others grudgingly condone it, provided that such teachings do not leave the bounds of the Meadows of Heaven.

History

The Meadows of Heaven gains it's name from two factors. The relatively constant distance between it's various areas allowed early Elven colonists to gain a point of reference when first navigating Athel Loren, and the historically low numbers of forest spirits in the territory made it something of a sanctuary for Elven colonists menaced by Dryads in the early days of settlement, making it something of a heaven for those early settlers.

While largely following the same conventions of time keeping and historical reference as the rest of Athel Loren, the Meadows of Heaven does hold different names for four great seasons. The Season of Withering is known in the Meadows of Heaven as the Season of Fire, the Season of Retribution and the Season of Redemption are collectively known as the Season of Lunacy, and the Season of Doom is known as the Season of Tears.

The Season of Fire

"HELL TO THE HEAVENS!!"

-warcry of the Beastmen assailing the Meadows of Heaven during Cyanathair's first attack (translated from Dark Tongue)

Though Cyanathair's first assault on Athel Loren, at the very start of the Secret War, affected all of Athel Loren, it remains particularly strong in the Meadows of Heaven, for it is the one time the territory has truly felt threatened. Initially it was thought that the Invisible Fortress, first created during the Winter of Woe some time earlier, would be sufficient to hold back any incursions on the Meadows of Heaven, as the Invisible Fortress was at the time believed to be invincible. Nonetheless the Meadows of Heaven sent several armies to aid in the greater defence of Athel Loren, where they fought with distinction.

This security was brought crashing down when The Corrupter turned it's baleful gaze upon the Meadows of Heaven however. The creature sent titanic hordes to bring the territory to it's knees, and while they were at first deterred by the Invisible Fortress, Cyanathair's innate madness and chaotic nature spoke to the trees and spirits of the Invisible Fortress, as it did to many other parts of Athel Loren, and caused large sections of the defence line to rebel against the Elves, allowing the Beastmen to circumvent the Invisible Fortress and gain direct access to the Meadows of Heaven. Those detachments fighting in other parts of Athel Loren were forced to be recalled, and for the rest of that terrible conflict the entirety of the Meadows of Heaven was consumed by total war. Glade Guard and Eternal Guard cut down thousands of Gors and Ungors in brutal ambushes and raids, Scouts fought running skirmishes with Ungor Raiders, Waywatchers fought a lethal shadow war hunting down Beasts of important status and the terrible monsters unleashed on the Meadows of Heaven while Warhawk Riders and Eagles fought a deadly battle for aerial superiority with flocks of Harpies and winged monstrosities. The Elves of the Glade of Twilight slaughtered through entire warherds unsupported, Spites assailed the enemy with every trick and power they had, the Arboreal Legion smashed it's way through rank after rank of vile creature, and the few Treemen of the Meadows of Heaven fought an unyielding defence of the most sacred glades and trees in the Meadows of Heaven, while the mages of the Fey Glades and the Celestial Heath unleashed the cataclysmic power of The Silent Force, one of the great and terrible spells known only within the Meadows of Heaven, the use of which is forbidden save for the direst emergencies. The Glade of Poppies was left devastated in some of the bloodiest fighting of the entire conflict, and such was the ferocity of the warfare that many of the Glade Guard kindreds in the Meadows of Heaven were wiped out, such as The Light of Dawn and Spellbound Night. To this day their halls remain empty, left preserved as a memorial to their sacrifice. Countless heroes of the Meadows of Heaven were forged in this conflict, and hundreds of tales abound recounting their deeds. In the end the Beastmen horde was broken in an enormous battle that left the Wishmaster of those days slain along with his Eagle companion and mount, and the leader of the Beastmen dead at his blade. Two individuals of note that fought in this battle included a lesser Beastmen Chieftain named Belphegor, who would go on to escape the war, and a young Elf noble by the name of Maxamaron.

The Season of Lunacy

Unlike the rest of Athel Loren, the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven consider the Season of Retribution and the Season of Redemption to be a single season, which they call the Season of Lunacy, as it is at this time that they consider the rest of the forest to have gone mad. For much of this period and those before it since the aftermath of the Season of Fire, the Meadows of Heaven were largely quiet, focusing mainly on rebuilding their territory. As a result they did not take part in the campaign in Naggaroth, nor did they share in the knowledge of Dark Magic that came back from it, which the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven would later go on to claim was a wise decision indeed. Because of this the territory was unaffected by the chaos that the rest of Athel Loren was thrown into during this time, and largely looked upon it from without with a mixture of sorrow, confusion and bemusement. It was also during this time that Maxamaron rose to become Wishmaster, and was afflicted by the Winterheart.

During this time the Bretonnian Damsel Sharon D'adele made her journey into Athel Loren, and was rescued by Elves from the Meadows of Heaven and brought there, where she was kept for some time out of fear she may be killed in the madness overtaking the rest of Athel Loren. During her time there she was tutored by the Spellsingers and Spellweavers of the Fey Glades and the Celestial Heath, and came to be on good terms with Tir'j'aelle Taerynen, the Winter Storm. A second 'visitor' into the Meadows of Heaven during this time was a young dark-haired girl named Alicia Liddenell, believed to originally be from somewhere within the human Empire, who twice fell through the Worldroots and landed in Athel Loren close to the Meadows of heaven, where she was brought to and kept. On her second stay she was allowed to settle there permanently, and was awarded a small knife of magical metal after becoming welcomed by the Spites of the Meadows of Heaven. To this day her blue and white dress has become well known in the Meadows of Heaven, and within the territory she is considered something of a mascot or pet.

It was in this time that the great exodus of the Spites began. The overt use of Dark Magic within the bounds of Athel Loren came to terrify many of the Spites that had long since resided within the forest, and many of them fled to what refuge they could find. One such place was the Meadows of Heaven, as the non-use of Dark Magic there had made the territory something of a sanctuary for the nature spirits. And so it was that hundreds of Spites migrated into the Meadows of Heaven, their fear of the growing use of Dark Magic greater than their unease around the Wishmaster. Even now the Meadows of Heaven remains even more infested with Spites than other areas of Athel Loren, and the Spites have formed close ties with the territory, such that Asrai heroes may still make use of them even when many other Elves in Athel Loren cannot.

Throughout this long season the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven began to grow disillusioned with greater Wood Elf society. Seeing the havoc wrought by the introduction of Dark Magic, and how the other Elves acted with it, as well as Ariel's absence afterwards, began to make the Elves in the Meadows of Heaven think their kin had lost their way. Evidence found in this time that the other Asrai of Athel Loren had allowed Beastmen to lurk the forest, and the untimely demise of Adanhu and Gruarth only brought further disdain, and so it was decided that the Meadows of Heaven would separate from the Eternal Realms of Athel Loren. As the season came to a close, the leaders of the Meadows of Heaven left their places in the councils of Athel Loren, renounced the leadership of Ariel and Orion, and declared themselves independent of the 12 Realms of Athel Loren.

The Season of Tears

The present times have been a mixed blessing for the Meadows of Heaven. The territory is now the most prosperous it has been since the start of the Secret War, but it must now contend with enemies from within as well as from without.

The other Asrai of Athel Loren have a wide range of opinions regarding the Meadows of Heaven and their split. Some consider them dangerous renegades or treacherous deviants, and would love nothing more than to invade the territory and bring it to heel. Others do not necessarily agree with their ways or methods, but do not have any ill intent towards them so long as they continue to aid the forest. Others still share their sentiments and provide them with aid or even flock to their banners. The Eternal Realms are likewise divided in thought. Talsyn is the most unaccepting of the Meadows of Heaven and its independence, with Araloth being the most prominent voice of those who consider those in the Meadows of Heaven to be traitors. Arranoc is likewise staunchly opposed to the Meadows of Heaven, as they both divert guests away from their fate as sacrifices and bring winter into the otherwise never-ending summer. Both these sentiments are mutual, with the Meadows of Heaven considering Talsyn to be something of a centre for the corruption they perceive in Athel Loren (and the Wishmaster considering Araloth to be unfit to lead), and Arranoc to be duplicitous and dishonourable to outsiders. On the other hand, Modryn and Anmyr are both largely supportive of the Meadows of Heaven, for bringing a rare glimpse of daylight and great amounts of aid in trying to heal the land respectively, and the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven feel quite close to those of Anmyr, with both groups feeling a common bond in their suffering at the hands of Cyanathair. Torgovann and Argwylon both largely consider the Meadows of Heaven to be backwards and rustic fools, while those in the Meadows of Heaven consider both realms to be playing with fire, meddling with dangerous forces best left undisturbed. These sentiments are not universal however, and Asrai of every opinion regarding the Meadows of Heaven can be found in any of the Eternal Realms, albeit in varying amounts. Even the forest spirits are divided, with some considering the Meadows of Heaven to be an aberration, while others believe it to be a seed of renewal and the salvation of the forest. Orion himself would be happy to make war upon the territory, as he and the current Wishmaster have never been in agreement on most things, however Ariel is, for now at least, content to allow the Meadows of Heaven to continue on their way, understanding that those who dwell there still serve the forest in their own way.

Tensions remain high, but for now an uneasy peace remains between the Meadows of Heaven and the other realms of Athel Loren, and so the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven have turned their attentions outward. While no longer officially following the mandates of the King and Queen in the wood, the leaders of the Meadows of Heaven agree with the need for greater action against Chaos in the wider world, and so armies from the Meadows of Heaven frequently travel abroad to hunt down the children of Chaos, though their deeds generally go unrecognised and unrecorded by others, even more so than other Wood Elves. Belphegor, survivor of the Beastmen assault on the Meadows of Heaven during the Season of Fire, has risen to become a powerful warlord, and is currently amassing forces for another attack on the Meadows of Heaven in the name of the Master of Skulls. Another evil now covets the territory however, in the form of the countess Justine Favole, who has tasted the power that resides in the Dead Gardens and craves to command it's entirety, and so her followers and minions now assail the Meadows of Heaven in ever-increasing numbers and ferocity. The Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven have also come into conflict with the servants of the accursed Chaos God Slaanesh, though their intentions still remain a mystery.

The Glory of Days Long Past

The methods of battle and war used by the Meadows of Heaven are best described as old but effective. Their armies are frequently well-trained and equipped, though the equipment itself is often different to that now used by the rest of Athel Loren. Glade Guard, for example, continue to use the Glade Guard Longbow, which has been largely phased out of the rest of Athel Loren in favour of the Asrai Longbow. The older Glade Guard Longbow has less power at longer ranges than it's newer cousin, but much greater power at short ranges, and Glade Guard from the Meadows of Heaven train heavily in Asrai Archery techniques to effortlessly fire on the move, allowing them to quickly get into shorter ranges to make full use of this power. Other units tend to use the lighter Scout Bow, a design almost exclusive to the Meadows of Heaven that is less powerful than either the Asrai Longbow or the Glade Guard Longbow, but is considerably lighter than either and thus better suited for easily and quietly moving through dense woodland, or as a sidearm for high ranking nobles. It is also cheap and easy to produce, allowing any Elf from the Meadows of Heaven to own one. Eternal Guard, likewise, still practice extensively in Eternal Guard Fighting Styles, allowing them to rain down much more blows than their compatriots in the other realms of Athel Loren, while the Wardancer Weapons used by the Wardancers of the Meadows of Heaven hit much harder than those used by other Wardancers. Warhawks from the Meadows of Heaven tend to have less brute strength than those from other areas, but are much more nimble, allowing them and their riders to conduct quick hit-and-run attacks to disrupt enemy forces. The few forest spirits greater than Spites that reside in the Meadows of Heaven are far more brutal than in other parts of Athel Loren, with Dryads from the territory eschewing close-packed formations in favour of viscous attacks in combat, while the Tree-kin of the Arboreal Legion are known to strike with far more force than Tree-kin formed from the departed spirits of fallen Elves. All Elves from the Meadows of Heaven still train extensively in firing while moving, though this comes at the expense of developing the lightening-quick reaction speeds other Elves are known for. While the magical support of the Meadows of Heaven is more limited in it's application, the territory boasts a far greater array of magical items than the other realms of Athel Loren, which when combined with the affinity Spites have for Elves in the territory, ensures that leaders of the Meadows of Heaven can be equipped to deal with an extremely wide array of threats.

Where the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven go, the glory of days long past travels with them. 

(Please ignore the colour of some parts. They're things or places mentioned in the new Wood Elf army book that I've forgotten the official name for, and I'm currently unable to access my copy of the new book to check, so I made them blue for easy reference when I go back over it after checking in the new book). 

And to finish everything off here's a picture of the road still to go. The rest of the year is going to be very busy... 

I Want My Tears Back

By order of the Wishmaster

It is hereby decreed that henceforth the practice of any form of magic other than that of the Lores of Life, Beasts, and Athel Loren, shall be explicitly and strictly forbidden within the territory and dominion of the Meadows of Heaven. 

This law is to be enforced under pain of exile if Asrai, banishment if Forrest Spirit, or Death if outsider. 

Furthermore, the worldroots that link to the Meadows of Heaven are hereby commanded to be sealed, and the entryways to the Dreaming Wood cordoned off with mystical wards. The only points of entry to the Meadows of Heaven shall continue to be the mystical pathways of old, and the Elvenpath. 

Take heart Asrai, for while the rest of Athel Loren may have lost it's way, we still carry the true ways dear. 

...

So yeah. I got my limited edition copy of the new Wood Elf army book today, for Warhammer Fantasy. 

I myself am.... not impressed with it. 

It almost worked for me. I was almost happy with it. It could have been great. But for me it isn't. 

It's certainly more effective in-game. I won't dispute that. But that's not what bothers me. I'm about as close to the total opposite of a 'competitive gamer' as you will likely find. I consider metagaming and theory calculations to be the tools of the devil. I don't consider a unit finished until it's painted, based and named with at least a couple of paragraphs of backstory (something I've picked up from Battlefleet Gothic). I will never change an army list when I write it, because I consider my armies to be casts of characters and chronicle their adventures that way, with each game being much like a chapter in a book or an episode in a TV series. It was never a question of in-game effectiveness for me. 

No, for me the devil's in the detail. It's the little differences. 

My problems with it can be divided into two areas: the mechanics and the background. The mechanics first. 

In case you didn't know, there used to be a rule in the last Wood Elf army book called Asrai Archery. Now, normally in Warhammer Fantasy if a unit moves it takes a penalty to it's accuracy with shooting. What Asrai Archery did was remove that for all Wood Elf units - a Wood Elf with a bow could move right up to their maximum move distance and still rattle off an arrow or two at maximum accuracy. And I LOVED this rule. It fit in perfectly with the background - Wood Elves are meant to be the best archers in the Warhammer world, and this rule reflected that wonderfully. Even better though, it gave the Wood Elves their distinctive approach to battle - fast, fluid guerilla warfare, with constantly shifting battle-lines. With the old Asrai Archery rule, there was not a single Wood Elf unit that should be standing still (unless they were in a really, really, really good position, and even then it was debatable), just like it's described in the background. 

What's more, this rule gave me just the sort of army I wanted. I like to be devious and take the sneaky approach in strategy games (I tend to enjoy playing as the Brotherhood of Nod in the Command and Conquer computer games for example), and with a Wood Elf army at my command I was all set to win battles with diabolical ploys and cunning manoeuvre warfare. I wanted a highly mobile force. But at the same time I don't like painting horses, so I didn't want much (if any at all) cavalry in my army, Warhawk Riders excepted (but they're birds, which I'm happy with painting). And at the same time my Tau background in Warhammer 40,000 (and Daemon Hunter background in Diablo 3) has left me with a preference for gunning down enemies at a distance, so I like it when my forces have lots of firepower. The old Wood Elf army book catered to this perfectly, by allowing me to field an army of relatively fast, mobile infantry with some bonuses to make their shooting extra-potent. And I loved it. 

Now, however, that rule is gone, and so while you can field an ultra-mobile force with fast cavalry or a formidable gunline with infantry, you can't quite fully combine the two styles into one the way you could in the last book. Which means now I can either field a static gunline, which I don't want, or invest heavily in cavalry, which I also don't want. It's fine for others, who are happy to adapt, but for me, who is loath to change their army, and reasonably stubborn on top of it, I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. Now, there is a kind of magic arrow you can give some of your units in the new book that removes the movement penalty for shooting (as well as every other shooting penalty possible), which would have satisfied me completely.... if it could be taken by everything. But it's for core units and combat characters only (and even then only generic combat characters), which doesn't fully compensate for the loss of Asrai Archery, as that rule affected every Wood Elf unit, not just  a few. 

But there's more than that. There's also the addition of Multiple Shots to everything. In case you don't know, Multiple Shots is a special rule in Warhammer that lets a unit fire, well, multiple shots when it shoots, at the cost of a reduction in accuracy. The problem I have here, is that I always felt Wood Elf shooting should have more emphasis on accuracy over raw volume of firepower (in contrast to the Dark Elves, which I felt were the opposite with their repeater crossbows). Now this again wouldn't be a problem with me, as most of the units with this rule have the option of firing single more accurate shots instead, if it weren't for the fact that the new Bow of Loren magic item is stuck with it. The fact that said Bow of Loren can't be used in combination with magic arrows any more just adds insult to injury for me. 

Then there's the loss of Spites, and Kindreds, which were two sets of very characterful options from the last book that never made it over, and that gives me no end of grief, for I do love me some good characteful options. In fact that's the big reason why I also don't like the loss of the Lore of Athel Loren, which I adored. But that isn't too much of a problem with the new book, as it is relatively easy enough to emulate with a magic item and some clever spell selection. 

Then there's the background. I don't particularly like a lot of the changes there. Divvying up Athel Loren into only 12 different territories was a big sticking point, as I don't feel it allows for as much freedom when creating one's own force. I vastly preferred the older incarnation of the Sisters of Twilight. I could write pages and pages on every single change to the background I did not agree with. 

But it is very late, and I'm tired, and all ranted out for tonight. Maybe I should have opened with the background change complaints...

Showtime!

'Twas the night before, 
When all through the world, 
No words, no dreams then one day, 
A writer by a fire, 
Imagined all Gia, 
Took a journey into a child-man's heart, 
A painter on the shore, 
Imagined all the world, 
Within a snowflake on his palm, 
Unframed by poetry, 
A canvas of awe, 
Planet Earth falling back into the stars 


And with that I present to you my newly finished troupe of Wood Elf Wardancers. With background!

Wardancer Troupe: The Dark Passion Play

"Valour child, never lose your heart. Embrace your inner spark, your truest passions, that what makes you different, and never let others extinguish it."

Those who call themselves the Dark Passion Play are one of the two most prominent Wardancer troupes that hail from the Meadows of Heaven. Like all their kind, they are considered wild and eccentric by other elves, however in the Meadows of Heaven Wardancers, or at least the Wardancers that come from there, are heavily romanticised, and the wild, daring and exotic Wardancer is a common character in the storytelling of the Meadows of Heaven, either as the focus of exciting adventures or as a love interest who tempts the hero or heroine into their troupe (whether or not they are successful, and whether this is shown to be a good thing or not, varies greatly from tale to tale). Many of the Wardancers that originate from the Meadows of Heaven find this highly amusing, and it is not uncommon for them to act out such roles for auciences.

All elves in the Meadows of Heaven cherish uniqueness and individual identity, especially in recent times, however none express this value more than those in the Dark Passion Play. All it's members try to foster originality wherever they can, and will not hesitate to stand against those who prey on difference. Belittling another for their individuality is a very fast way to earn their wrath, and their anger is a fearsome thing indeed.

Many of those in the Dark Passion Play originate from within or around the Glade of Poppies, or otherwise have close ties with those who do, and so as well as being extremely well educated and knowledgeable even by the standards of elves, they also have a deep connection with the province. As such, when it was decimated during Cyanathair's first assault on Athel Loren, the troupe was left just as devastated as those who resided within the province. The Dark Passion Play was one of the units that led the counter-attack against the Beastmen horde that had ravaged the Glade of Poppies, and their fury and the acts of violence they unleashed on the invaders was terrifying to behold, with none surviving their vicious attacks. Afterwards they worked tirelessly with the survivors to rebuild the shattered province, and even now they are even more utterly without mercy than other Wood Elves in slaying the children of Chaos. Indeed, many of the weapons they wield are the same ones that were used by the great heroes of the Glade of Poppies that fell in it's defence, and the two Mayspears they carry with them are made from the shattered wood of the fallen banners of that battle, so that they might always remember the sacrifices and deeds of that day, so that it might never be repeated, and so that the fallen heroes of it may yet be avenged.

Like the other Wardancer troupes that come from the Meadows of Heaven, the Dark Passion play has a very decentralised leadership structure. While it does possess a Bladesinger who nominally provides leadership and guidance for the troupe, in practice most decisions are made collectively as an ensemble, which ensures both that all are in agreement on them, and that the troupe can still act effectively if tragedy befalls it's Bladesinger. Indeed, the troupe's musician has equal authority and status within the troupe, allowing it to split into two parties if need-be and remain fully capable. Both figures each carry a weapon known as a Mayspear, a long spear decorated with precious gemstones and adorned with long flowing colourful streamers used in battle, dance and the worship of Loec, to denote their position in the troupe, and whoever carries a Mayspear carries leadership and responsibility for the troupe with them.

With their skill, daring and flair, the Dark Passion Play is ever at the forefront of the Meadows of Heaven.

And the other bit of background I wrote for my Eternal Guard. 

Eternal Guard: The Defenders of the Glade of Poppies 

Of all the provinces of the Meadows of Heaven, few have a history more tragic than that of the Glade of Poppies.

Once the Glade of Poppies was the crown jewel of the Meadows of Heaven, second only to the capital of Imaginaerum in wonder and magnificence. It was a centre of learning, knowledge and academia, and was filled with some of the wisest minds in the Meadows of Heaven, and indeed in all of Athel Loren, and countless scholars and wise souls could be found within it, passing their knowledge on and studying the world around them ever more. It's name came from the great blood red poppies that grew in the grass of it's clearings and meadows, which were left to grow free, and grew to be extremely tall, some even getting to be taller than the elf children that played around them. Some of the greatest and fairest Wishmasters of the Meadows of Heaven came from there, and all studied in the Glade of Poppies at one point or another, while the advancements and knowledge of those who dwelt there was put to good use in bettering the lives of all who resided in the Meadows of Heaven.

It was during the first attack Cyanathair made against Athel Loren, at the very start of the Secret War, that saw the Glade of Poppies left in ruins, as the glade became the site of one of the fiercest and bloodiest of all those fought in the Meadows of Heaven. Upon hearing word of the Glade of Poppies and it's splendour, The Corruptor became filled with rage and hatred, and it sent a titanic horde of Beastmen and terrible monstrosities to raze and despoil the province. The Glade of Poppies was by no means defenceless however, and massed rank upon rank of Eternal Guard stood against the onslaught, supported by hundreds of elven archers. Initially the battle went well for the Wood Elves, and thousands of Beastmen and their vile allies were slain, struck down by arrows or cut down in a maelstrom of blades. Warhawk Riders harried at their flanks, while Waywatchers silently infiltrated into the heart of the enemy before felling the leaders of the force, plunging whole regiments of beasts into brutal chaos as they fought to determine a new leader, neutralising giant swathes of the enemy army with just a few well placed shots. But still the horde pressed on, seemingly without number. The decisive turning point of the battle came when the strange shamans that accompanied the horde managed to work a great and horrific spell. With tremendous power fuelled by the carnage and bloodshed unfolding around them, they managed to temporarily tear a hole between worlds, and from it poured a host of creatures born from nightmares and forged in total Chaos, new re-enforcements that appeared directly behind the elven lines. Caught between the two forces, the Wood Elves were trapped and the battle was lost. Still, the elves fought on with the courage of true heroes, and slew scores of Beastmen and Daemons alike, but the combined forces arrayed against them were too large to fully overcome, and eventually only twenty Eternal Guard warriors remained, the tattered remnants from different regiments banded together for a final stand, and they fought back to back against the overwhelming tide until all became blood and darkness.

When they awoke the next morning, they were in the centre of the Glade of Poppies, surrounded by blood, bodies, ash and destruction. The horde that had assailed the place was gone, but the Glade of Poppies was devastated. Countless trees had been cut down, burnt, or torn apart. Spites lay pinned up with nails and spikes of hell-forged black iron, their forms broken and mutilated. Sacred stones lay toppled and desecrated. The air was thick with choking cinders..... and every single one of the great poppies from which the province gained it's name had been cut down, stamped on, or razed.

As they saw the desolation, their hearts were filled with despair and grief, for their homes and their world had been torn from them and shattered. And so it was that they vowed that never again while they still drew breath would the poppies be allowed to be cut down again.

Since those dark times the Glade of Poppies has been healed, and blood red poppies once again grow free within it, though none have yet reached the height they once were. Even so, the damage wrought in that fateful battle has left lasting scars amongst the Asrai of the Meadows of Heaven, and it is likely that they will never forgive themselves or the minions of Chaos for it. The Battle of the Glade of Poppies is one of the most common stories told by the Wardancer troupes that come from the Meadows of Heaven, and through them and the storytelling nature of the Asrai that live within that territory knowledge of that great combat has spread to other parts of Athel Loren.

The Defenders of the Glade of Poppies is the regiment formed from the original twenty survivors of the battle of the Glade of Poppies, now formally organised as a single fighting unit. Having fought together side by side for many, many years, they have grown to become a fearsome fighting unit, with each member having full knowledge of the capabilities, strengths and idiosyncrasies of their comrades, allowing them to work together seamlessly to form something far greater than the sum of it's parts. The banner they carry into battle, the Banner of Poppies, is the only banner that did not fall in the battle of the Glade of Poppies, and was waved defiantly at the heart of the defence until the bitter end. It holds considerable magical properties, and is believed to be a legendary Razor Standard, as it hones the blades near it to supernatural sharpness, allowing them to shear through armour and thick hide alike with contemptuous ease. The Forrest has not forgotten the promise that they made so many years ago, and seems to have bestowed upon them some form of mystical fortitude, for they have been seen to survive grievous wounds that would have surly killed another elf. In addition, wherever they step foot blood red poppies, of the same variety that grow in the Glade of Poppies, have been known to spring up and grow, seemingly in reminder of their pledge and duty.

As well as their normal duties as a unit of Eternal Guard, the Defenders of the Glade of Poppies also act, in times of peace, as the main police force within the Meadows of Heaven, patrolling the territory and inspecting elven halls to ensure no Asrai causes strife and that the tenants of the Wishmaster are met. Their heritage and upbringing in the Glade of Poppies puts them in good stead for this role, as it gives them an extensive knowledge of the laws and traditions of the Meadows of Heaven.

And then because it's Saturday here's a short background piece I wrote in response to the new Wood Elf release. 

A piercing cold wind gusted through the trees, bringing amber and crimson leaves dancing across the icy clear sky, a vast open canvas upon which was now painted the comely pinks and oranges of a serenely stunning and wholesome sunset, contrasted by the darkened shapes of the trees below. A few clouds the colour of caramel dozed across the firmament above. Though the scene was fair in fullest, to the grouped figures in the royal conclave glade the blood and flame coloured foliage that surrounded them also had a much more ominous, almost funereal tone to it. After all, it was a clear sign to all that Autumn was here, and that Winter was fast approaching, when trees and forest spirits lay dormant, and flowers and plants died. Even worse, Winter was the nadir of the great forest's power, and a long period of constant danger when it was at it's most vulnerable. The matters they were discussing only served to compound this feeling.

At the head of the circle, or at least the point of it closest to the grand Royal Hall, was Maxamaron, Wishmaster of the Meadows of Heaven, resplendent in his golden armour and the rich deep green of his Lorenweave Royal cloak. His Bow of Loren and it's accompanying quiver of Arcane Bodkins was slung across his back, for it was common practice for all Asrai to keep their bows close to them, lest danger come unexpectedly. Around the Wishmaster's head was the small and delicately slender crown of the Meadows of Heaven, and at his side was the magnificent King's Longsword, carried by every Wishmaster in the long history of the Meadows of Heaven. To the Wishmaster's left was the imposing form of his protector Gaerielle, her Spear of Twilight close at hand and her eyes constantly probing for hidden threats. To the Wishmaster's right was his royal standard bearer Moni'qeth, the current royal battle standard of the Meadows of Heaven firmly planted in the ground just behind her.

Opposite of them were the four governing mages of the Fey Glades and the Celestial Heath, representing the combined wisdom and power of the magic wielders in the Meadows of Heaven. Two of them, Aneaeth Ollissin, their leader, and Tirj'aelle Taerynen of the Winter Storm, both had flowing hair of a deep earthy brown, while the other two of their company, Char'loth Wyssyls of the April Rain and Ailyn, their newest member, had tresses of richest red. Ailyn was furthest away from the other three, close to the enormous verdant form of Avyrrnhan, one of the greatest Tree Lords that remained in the Meadows of Heaven. Though he still did his best to stand fully upright, the fatigue that the coming Winter brought with it was taking it's toll on the ancient treeman, and so occasionally he was forced to rest upon his massive forearms for a time. The Cluster of Radiants that dwelt upon him now circled his head like a wondrous glowing halo.

To either side of these two parties were other great lords and important figures in the Meadows of Heaven, Mir'q'arielle the Traveller, huddled within her cloak of Eagle down, Kaeron perched upon her shoulder, and a representative of the Great Eagles of the Meadows of Heaven perched majestically in the trees above. Opposite them was the lone and shadowed form of Saiyereth, the master of the Waywatchers in the Meadows of Heaven. A few spites played and danced about the assembly, but most of the forest spirits there huddled close to their hosts or companions, for there seemed to be little to be joyful about. All those taking part in the meeting or paying attention to it had sombre, haunted expressions to them.

"I did not fathom such a thing possible, but it seems even worse than we feared, if what the birds tell us and what our sentinels are witnessing is indeed true." Said Saiyereth.

"And yet all throughout Athel Loren they are celebrating," added Mir'q'arielle, "All across the forest Asrai and spirit alike are joined in great festivals. They welcome these new turns and twists with open arms, and laud them as miraculous. Ambitious plans of battle and warfare are being drawn up, and vast new armies raised. They act almost with the joy of two deep lovers reunited after much time apart. They are eager for these new fortunes."

"Yet while they do the Meadows of Heaven look upon these new changes with terror and despair," the Wishmaster said, "We see only damnation where they see salvation, however much we may gain from the coming developments."

"The spirits here are most disturbed by the new elder ones awaking," began Avyrrnhan, "They have been completely changed and twisted, and I no longer recognise them as kindred. There is something.... uncanny..... about them. Something dangerous. Something frightening. It feels like something is missing from them, some spark or seed. The other spirits of the Forrest and their companions may praise them, but not I. Not we."

"I concur," replied the Wishmaster, "They are indeed unnerving, and do not feel as though they belong here. But many of the Forrest Spirits avoid this place where they can, so I do not feel as troubled by them."

A flurry of spites rushed towards Ailyn and settled close around the spellsinger, nestling amongst the Pageant of Shrikes on her. "There is more cause for concern than just that my lord," she said, "There's also the Spites. Hundreds upon hundreds of them are fleeing into our realm, driven here by fear greater than that they have of you. It's these changes, they terrify them. They fear they will be swept up by them and fade into nothingness or uselessness. Mischievous they may be, they love nothing more than to help the forest and it's denizens in the end. They do not wish to go away. They are frightened."

"They need not worry Ailyn," said the Wishmaster, "They will always find refuge and sanctuary here. Even if the other elves forget their importance, we will forever value their power."

"Very good." Said Avyrrnhan, "It is... good to see that even with the rot at your core you still hold respect for the children of the Forrest."

"The most dire news of all," Aneaeth said, "Is that of the changing magical landscape. It would seem that other Asrai are eschewing the traditional channels of magical power, and turning to the outsider lores of magic. I'm not sure which frightens me more, that they dabble in the shadow and death magic of the Beastmen vermin, or that they experiment with the unholy power of the dark magic practised by the Druchii. Either would certainly spell doom for the Forrest, and these new magic practices threaten to wreak havoc upon it's balance. Already we can feel the shudders of pain they are starting to bring to it."

"I find it odd," Char'loth added, "That the other Asrai sing praise of new freedom, while their rejection of the old ways may actually mean less of it with the loss of the lore of Athel Loren that it brings with it. I believe that the preservation of the knowledge of the Lore of Athel Loren be given high priority."

"Agreed." replied the Wishmaster.

"And yet," said Tirj'aelle, "We may gain something from this. Without the restrictions, we could harness more of the natural power in the greater world." Of the four mages, Tirj'aelle was always the one with the closest affinity to the firmament, stargazing and scrying. She was excited about the thought of studying the lore of the Heavens and unlocking it's power.

"No." responded Aneaeth, "Such a prospect is too dangerous, and the loss of the magic of Athel Loren and Treesinging is far too steep a cost for it."

"What is our course of action then?" asked Saiyereth.

"They have shown they will not listen to us," said Gaerielle, "We should respond with force, and retaliate against those who would seek to pervert our ways. Our forces are capable enough."

"No," responded the Wishmaster, "Even if we could win a war against all the rest of Athel Loren, they are not our enemies. We must keep our focus on the true adversaries, those outside who seek to despoil the forest."

"I would not rule out diplomacy just yet Wishmaster," said Mir'q'arielle, "I could journey to the Oak of Ages and parley with Ariel. With her connection to the forest, it's sorrow at the touch of these insidious new magics must surely be being felt by her. It may still be possible to convince her to our plight."

"I doubt that she will be swayed, but it is certainly worth a try," said the Wishmaster, "Make it so. Venture to the Oak of Ages, Mir'q'arielle, and investigate just what is happening to the forest. Take any who wish to join you back to the Meadows of Heaven."

"It shall be done Wishmaster."

"in the meantime, our concerns must as ever be for the people of this territory."

"The people are frightened Wishmaster," Saiyereth said, "They fear we may have to give up our ways of life. They fear they may be in danger."

"They will be safe," replied the Wishmaster, "We will see to their safety, though it may mean that we must sever some of our ties with the rest of Athel Loren. We shall of course continue to hunt those who would seek to harm the forest, but it may have to be in even more secret then it is now. It seems our deeds may never be recorded in the Hall of Honours."

"Unsung heroes." said Gaerielle.

"Even so our actions may yet be remembered," Moni'qeth said, "The Glade of Poppies keeps a well preserved and recoded archive, and the Wardancers of this territory are ever ready to tell our tales. They will certainly be glad to tell our stories to the rest of the forest."

"Indeed," said the Wishmaster, "If indeed there remains a forest to tell them to."

The Wishmaster looked up and contemplated the Eventide. "It feels as though this world is dying," he said, "And as though we are powerless to stop it. With these new changes, it seems more than ever that we may be trapped between worlds."

"Despair not," Moni'qeth said, "We will fight to preserve what we treasure, even if it is never witnessed."

A flight of ebony ravens cried as they flew across the glade. Their harsh calls sent a shiver down the assembly, and their hearts skipped a beat. All those who dwelt in Athel Loren knew of the blood-eyed shrikes that were one of the forms taken by the Lamentation of Despairs. If they were reaper spirits however, none of the party fell, so for whom they called for it could not be told.

"Now then," said the Wishmaster, "let us see about containing the threat of this new magic.." 

Finally, my fledgling Wood Elf army had it's first outing in the local Games Workshop store yesterday. I didn't get any games in with it, but I did manage to set it all out on an unused table to show it off. 

A Wild Ride Through The Night

Scavius's armoured boots slammed against the shattered pavement as he thundered down the street. Although it was deep in the night, the darkness around him was scattered by the flickering bursts and glows of flames and explosions, playing out beneath an audience of a hundred thousand stars that filled the inky sky above, seated amongst the dull clouds and watched over by the two moons of the world Scavius was currently on. 

It was a Cardinal World, situated in the vast wilderness of the galaxy's east. Sanctus Espirtus was what the slaves of the Corpse God had christened it. It was an old world, and like it's sibling planets much of it's surface was covered by titanic cathedrals, abbeys, chapels and other edifices to the pathetic faith these wretched humans followed. The streets, like the one Scavius was running down now, were cobbled and lined with an unending stream of famous figures of their dogma. Many had already been defaced or toppled. The rest would join them in time, but for now there were still enemies to focus on. 

Though it had negligible value as anything more than a symbol, the False Emperor's minions had already begun to pour onto it in it's defence. They were still mostly lowly soldiery from the Imperial Army, but an enormous force of the fanatical elite guard of the Imperial Church that held dominion over this world had also made planetfall. Scavius had clashed with elements of them before, and he had relished the experience. He longed to hunt them once more. 

Scavius was not without allies either however. Indeed, the warband of Night Lords which he belonged to had been drawn to the conflict as support for the gigantic crusade of Word Bearers that had first assaulted the world. Scathius sneered with contempt at the thought of them. For all their numerical size they were still blind fools who slaved away to uncaring entities. Like all of his brethren, Scavius knew the truth - to follow any form of faith, to submit to anything other than oneself, was nothing more than weakness. Power was all that mattered, and power could only be gained first hand, by tearing it from others. It would not be handed over by some great being or creature. 

A band of mortal soldiers had appeared at an intersection ahead. They were setting up a gunline, but with his enhanced senses Scavius had already seen the palor of their faces, the quiver in their step. Their fear was almost palpable, and when the guardsmen finally started firing it showed in how their timid shots streaked straight past Scavius and his squad, those sporadic few that hit harmlessly glancing their ancient power armour. As the Night Lords closed with their new quarry, they made sure to live up to their nightmarish impression. 

"We've come for you!" They bellowed, the various distorted voices that left the external speakers on their power armour merging together in a hellish twisted echoing cacophony. At once they followed it by unleashing a torrent of shells from their boltguns. Several Guardsmen were reduced to tattered bloody ribbons of shredded flesh and smashed flack plating by the impacts, but the majority were simply maimed by the barrage. They were the unlucky ones. Moments after the last few boltgun shells hit, Scavius and his squad barrelled into the midst of the Imperials, knives drawn. Scavius shivered with ecstasy as he left his mark upon the new victims, taking much pride in how he found new creative ways to carve them apart. He marvelled in the terrified screams they gave. One of the other members of Scavius's squad opened up his flamer on the weaklings, unleashing a magnificent roaring cascade of burning chemicals that sent them reeling and screaming, fleeing wildly in circles as their forms burned. 

Once they had finished their work, the Night Lords made sure to proudly display their latest masterpieces, splaying the mutilated bodies of their adversaries across the statues that lined the road, as a message to both friend and foe, before continuing along the street. Above them the Raptors that accompanied their warband leapt from spire to spire, blazing trails from their jump-packs streaking against the sky. Occasionally a battered corpse fell from their lofty perches as they forged their own bloody carnage through the district. In the distance, Scavius could hear the roaring engines of the warband's bikers as they sped through the city. The Corpse God's feeble minions could not stop them. 

Scavius laughed inside his armour. The night was young, and the night belonged to them. 

Nothing Left

Alright. I was hoping not to have to write something like this, not for a good long while yet (though perhaps that was where I went wrong. Hope, as they say, is the first step on the road to disappointment). I was wishing that I could continue being nice and happy and positive in this blog for at least another month or so. I certainly didn't want to have to write about this particular subject for a long long time. But.. well.. I just can't take it any more. Sometimes you just need to say some things, and get them off your chest, so that they don't keep eating you up inside. This is one of those times.

In case you haven't seen, Games Workshop has just updated their webpage. It's a new, clean look, and in my opinion it exemplifies all that was wrong with the last one. What little was left of article content, and even the daily news piece has been removed, and the entire site has been reconfigured into a giant store. The most painful thing for me though, was seeing the now gutted scenery section.

But that's not what I'm writing this ..... opinion..... rant.... venting..... cry..... thing.. about. No, no. The new website was just the flashpoint, the final straw that broke the Camel's back. The real crux of what this will be about, the real roots of why I'm so heartbroken at the moment, go back much, much deeper.

I first started feeling this way earlier last year, when Games Workshop stopped selling models for it's old Specialist Games ranges. I will probably seem like some overly sensitive little crybaby wuss for saying this, but I really was completely devastated by it. But eventually that feeling faded in time... until a couple of weeks ago, after I managed to rescue a couple of character models from Games Workshop's now sadly gutted Bretonnian range for Warhammer Fantasy. I held them in my hands, and all of a sudden all that same heartbreak came rushing back up to the surface. Then it was only amplified when, while procrastinating about writing an essay for university, I decided to take a trip down memory lane, opened up the Wayback Machine, and loaded up Forgeworld's old website from around 2005-2006ish, and looked on in horror at just how many of the models there were that I used to adore but no longer exist on the site.

See, what happened then, just like when the Specialist Games began disappearing, was that I felt one of my dreams die. I'm not sure if you have ever felt such a thing before, and in the same way, but I personally can thing of few things more agonising than having a dream die.

If you've managed to get this far, I imagine you are very likely to be very confused right now. I apologise for that, this entire post is very much a stream of consciousness typed down, and I tend to be very cryptic even at the best of times. In essence, I'm upset about the models. The ones Games Workshop used to produce.

Simply put, they're vanishing before my eyes.

These are the models I was brought up with. When I was a child (well, around 9-10ish), I used to spend long summer afternoons endlessly looking through Games Workshop's website and Forgeworld, reading through all the articles on the former and marvelling at all the wondrous models on the latter (and the former too for that matter), endlessly lost in a sea of fantastic worlds and amazing models (much to the chagrin of my parents wanting to use the phone, as this was in the days of dial-up internet).

And I came to have a dream: that some day I would own all of them*. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even for years and years, but one day I would. At some time in the distant future, that day would come.

And I was happy at the time. I envisioned a wondrous golden future of Games Workshop, filled with models, new ones standing with all the classics for all the future generations to enjoy. It didn't matter that all those fancy Forgeworld kits cost an arm and a leg, it didn't matter that I couldn't buy vast armies en masse, it didn't matter at all because I thought, nay, knew that all those models and kits would be there forever. The idea that one day any of them might not be there simply never entered my mind. But why would it? I was young, and new to the hobby. I didn't, indeed couldn't, have known about warehouse space or molds wearing out or anything like that. Such concepts were completely beyond the comprehension of my youthful self. As far as I was concerned, Games Workshop would simply keep on producing the models it had always done for the rest of eternity, and if whatever machines or devices they used to make models broke down, they would simply fix them. Thus, I reasoned, I had all the time in the world to pursue my dream of a vast collection of awesome (now old) miniatures, one that one day might even grow to rival that of Games Workshop's model gallery (I forget exactly what it's called) itself!

As the years went by, my aspirations grew and grew. By the start of last year, I had very big, ambitious, grand plans. A gigantic Tau army for Warhammer 40,000, complete with air support from Forgeworld and a few scratchbuild vehicles, fit for a titanic game of Apocalypse, perhaps even with a Manta or two (it should be noted that this particular part of the dream is still possible, and may in fact come to pass some day, with a ton of luck). An enormous Tau fleet for Battlefleet Gothic, mostly Kor'vattra ships, but with a sizeable Kor'O'vesh element as well for completeness, big enough to rival the mightiest fleets I saw on Port Maw and later Warseer. A Corsair Eldar fleet to fight alongside it, and a Chaos fleet as a deadly enemy for them to fight against. A Dark Eldar fleet (again a dangerous antagonist to oppose my Tau and Eldar). An Ork fleet. An Imperial fleet that would be caught up in this massive struggle for dominance amongst the stars. A fleet for every faction in Battlefleet Gothic, with at least one of every ship made. A Wood Elf army for Warhammer Fantasy. A Bretonnian army. A Vampire Counts one, a Dwarf one, and a Beastmen one too. At least one of every Regiment of Renown (I even had an idea to write a campaign around them). A grand ecosystem of all the different dragon models Games Workshop made. A retinue of Famous Familiars to accompany me and assist me in painting and modelling all my miniatures (and later to help breath some of that old Games Workshop magic into the newer ones). A colossal array of terrain and scenery, hills, forests (some Citadel, some home-made) of every kind, fences, farmsteads, inns, churches or chapels, at least two of all the little doodads Games Workshop was selling (Gothic Scenery, Arcane Books, Buckets, the Mordheim accessory sprue, the Fantasy Graveyard, and so on). I even just recently had an idea to combine the Gothic graveyard, one of the few older scenery kits Forgeworld still sells, and a couple of the metal Fantasy Graveyard sets Games Workshop put out to have a nice quirky spooky graveyard piece that wasn't quite as over-the-top as the Garden of Morr that's currently being sold. I would buy up an extra set of Arcane books and paint them up as modelling/painting guides and army books as a funny little meta-joke. A Warhammer Fortress to fight siege battles over when castle pieces were attacked in the big Mighty Empires campaign I dreamed of one day playing with my friends. A big collection of Warhammer 40,000 terrain as well, filled with buildings and pillboxes and gun towers and dugout emplacements jungle trees and other, stranger things. A whole galaxy full of celestial phenomena for Battlefleet Gothic (again, this is still possible). A Sisters of Battle/Witchunters army, with the Adepta Sorroritas units in it painted up in the colours of the uniform of the catholic girls' school that some of my friends went to. A Slaanesh-aligned Traitor Guard army. A Night Lords force. A Tyranid swarm painted in dark greys and blues like the Aliens in the Alien movies. A band of Spryers for Necromunda, and a force of Arbites for the same system, with their leader named Jav're (a play on Inspector Javert from Les Miserables), who would later, in my background material, go on to become an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus. A Carnival of Chaos for Mordheim. All kinds of strange and wondrous conversions and kitbashes. And many more things that escape my immediate memory. And I would share them with the world too. I would post pictures of them in logs on Advanced Tau Tactica, and Asrai.org, and even Warseer sometimes. I'd start my own blog, and it would become one of the big major ones that every hobbyist and wargamer knew, and all across the internet people would gather and marvel at my amazingly-painted models. And immerse themselves in the rich expansive backstory I wrote for them. And I'd go down in tabletop hobby history as a legend. Now obviously none of this was going to happen all at once, that would just be silly since these things take time. But one day, eventually, I was going to get there. One day, my grand vision would become a reality.

But then last year the Specialist Games ranges went dark. Their models started vanishing one by one into the night. And in the few weeks it took for them to completely disappear, I saw my grand shining dream twist, burn and shatter into a million fragments. And though I did make a big panic-spend and managed to rescue a fairly large Tau fleet (and even a couple of Corsair Eldar ships), it was but a shadow of the mighty armada that I had envisioned.

It was the beginning of a newer, darker hobbyist in me. It opened my eyes to the reality of model ranges and age. Miniatures would be discontinued, things would go out of production, models and kits would not stay around forever. But I went on. I continued to try and make my shining dream come true. The end of the Specialist Games might have been a major setback, I thought, but there were still other models out there I wanted. There was still the Wood Elves and Bretonnians to collect. There was still scenery to make and purchase, and caracterful little collector's pieces to, well, collect. The Tau range was in no apparent danger of fading into the abyss. Forgeworld and all the incredible models it made was still out there. I could still come to own all those. I could still come to realise my dream. Heck, I might even be able to salvage a few Specialist Games models from auction sites while I was at it.

Indeed, I was now even more determined to see that my plans happened. If model lines could end and never become available again, I thought, then I must act to collect all these wonderful models as quickly as possible, so that I might have an example of every one of them preserved for future generations to see, so that they would never be forgotten. My experience with the aforementioned panic buy had shown me that I could make one or two massive purchases a year and not completely break the bank, and so I went out and ordered a horde of Wood Elf models, enough to complete the army of them I had imagined, and more. Indeed, as of the time of this writing, I almost have at least one of every single Wood Elf model in the entire current range, with the exception of Orion, Drycha and the mounted characters. It lifted my spirits. After all these years, it felt like I might actually finally be getting to realising my big dream. I can do this, I thought. My aspirations finally seemed within my grasp.

And then it hit me. I saw how much of the Bretonnian range had been discontinued. I went through archived pages of Forgeworld and discovered all the big models and kits I remembered, almost all of them now long-out of production. And then I even saw many of the little metal scenery doodads on Games Workshop's website were now lost forever. And all over again I saw my big, grand shining dream break apart and die.

And what really stings for me, is why it is. It's not because I never got around to getting them all, until only recently I literally couldn't (nowhere near enough funds and no credit card to bring them to the internet). It's simply because just as I was finally becoming able to get them all, time caught up with them. They were old, and discontinued to make way for new things. And so I feel like I have all this sorrow for no other reason that I existed at the wrong time.

It's a new era for Games Workshop now. One of plastic and resin, and digital sculpting. I'm sure it will make many excellent new models, which will be loved by many and go on to inspire a whole new generation of hobbyists just like those old metal models inspired me so many years ago. Forgeworld is putting out a whole new range just for the Horus Heresy. But as great as all of these things are, they are not for me. I wanted a vast magnificent collection of the models from my childhood, those characterful, wonderful metal and plastic ones from the late 90s and especially the early 2000s that captured my imagination, and still do, not these new ones. There are a fair few good ones for them I will admit, but well, it's just not the same for me. There's something missing from them. And I don't think I'll ever get to see my big shining dream fully realised now. I know there's a whole slew of auction and trade sites where many of these older models can be found, but between their very high prices and my sporadic funding, I don't think I'll be quick enough to get them in time. There's still the Gothic Graveyard from Forgeworld, and a couple of the scenic doodads on Games Workshop's website, but I fear I will be too late for them as well. Already I have missed the Warhammer Fortress set, and while it is still possible to replicate, I may never know what sort of box it came with (it may seem odd to you, but that's actually a very important thing to me. I collect the artwork on model boxes just as much as I do the models themselves. It may seem strange to you, but it's just one of my quirks I suppose). And I know all about all the new model brands that are popping up, and that too is a wonderful thing, but, well, a lot of their models just don't do it for me either. Not at the moment at least. But that is a subject for another ramble.

I suppose too that a large part of it is my age. I'm at a very strange place in that regard, as I straddle the line between two hobby generations, which puts me in the awkward place of being too young to have really fully experienced the Silver Age of Games Workshop (the early 2000s, the era of my childhood, and the one I'm nostalgic for), but at the same time old enough that I have a memory of it and too old and set in my ways to really fully appreciate the new era of Games Workshop as those younger than me may. This does tend to make me feel as though I'm trapped between two worlds a lot of the time. So I remember the older Games Workshop, but at the same time I feel like I never really got a chance to fully enjoy it. I never got to have big armies of all those models I remember. I never even got to participate in a global campaign event. And it's all starting to feel like it's been taken away from me now, lost forever..

I think that's everything. So there it is. That's my story. That's my tale of woe and heartbreak of how I came to be here, and that's most, if not all, of what I wanted to get off my chest. I don't expect anyone to respond to it, I don't even really expect anyone to read it. I've written it only to let my feelings out so they don't chew me up inside quite as much. If you have read it all the way through then thank you, it helps to have someone listen. I'm also sorry for having to drop down this big rambling opinion rant piece, as I try hard to look on the brighter side of the hobby. Maybe next time it'll be back to nice backstory pieces and pretty pictures of models. Until then though, I'm signing out. It's late where I am, and I need to get some sleep and cry for a bit. Goodnight everyone.

And Militant wept, for there were no more metal models left to collect.