Clan Festerscar: The Blind follow the Blind

Posted by Sinscaptain February 28, 2016

Clan Festerscar: The Blind follow the Blind

Hey all! Better late than never to get the February Challenge done and push the stories of the fall of Alpines and Opstrum Painad, Plaguemaster Malkk, and now the Cult of the Illuminated and the vermin-surge on the day of the horned rat!

I managed to get over £50 painted up this month - (2) Boxes of Plague Monks, (1) Plague Priest, and (1) Plague Claw Catapult. Looking forward to the March Challenge, as well as completing the Miniature Painting Bingo Challenge over the year as seen below. I will have completed the "Paint a new version of a mini that you painted years before" with my Plague Monks. Happy reading!

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Insolent fools, they would bring about the destruction of everything that they had worked so hard to achieve! Opstrum could barely contain his rage as he stormed from the mocking laughter of the high council of Alpines. He bit back the urge to spit upon the dark marble floors as he flew through the dimly lit hallways. It has been merely a few hours since the death of the ranger, and get already the city was awash with motion - like frightened animals, the townsfolk paced within the confines of their pen. A bastion against the beasts of the dark forests, the people of the city-state of Alpines were - for better or worse - ill-equipped to face the challenges of the world that lurked but a few hundred yards from their "safe" walls. Opstrum knew this and his mood darkened even further.

High King Escogant and his motley Knights - if you could call them that - had scoffed at Opstrum and thrown him out of their sight at the mention of the Plaguemaster. They chose not to believe in children's bedtime stories like some shriveled old fool. Opstrum could feel the inferno blazing inside of him glow white hot. They would be the ones who history told future generations "look here, these men were entrusted with the beauty and law of 1000 years of tradition and safety in the face of the realm of Ghur, and THEY are the ones that cast us back to the wilderness to suffer and die by the dozen at the hands of ungodly creatures and evil warlords." Opstrum would not be the one to let that happen.

Upon reaching the great doors that led to the courtyard, Opstrum stopped in his tracks. There was a faint scratching at the corner of the door, right where it seemed a small hole was beginning to form. Opstrum stooped down to observe the small opening. As he watched, a rather robust rodent stuck it's snout through and begin to look about in confusion. Opstrum sneared at the foul creature. This vermin was as true an indicator of their folly as any. Gnawing at the very foundation of everything that Alpines stood for, this creature was the enemy.

The Skaven were a plague unto the world, one that Opstrum would see burn before his very eyes if it was the last thing that he did on this mortal plane. Chaos erupted from within the halls of the castle. Bells began to toll throughout the castle and the city beyond. A messenger ran down the hallway towards Opstrum, his face drained of all blood. "Grand Mage Painad! My Lord, come quickly! Its... its..." Opstrum placed a hand to steady the messenger and glared into his eyes. "Calm yourself boy. Tell me, what has happened?"

The room went exceptionally cold as the words came from the messengers mouth.

"They...they're all dead, m'lord. All of them. The King is dead." And with that, Opstrum Painad lost all control of his inner flame.

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"The fall of the royal houses of Alpines was like so much wheat before a scythe. In a nefarious plot that had been implemented by the foulest of the Skaven, Plaguemaster Malkk, a weapon of most unimaginable destruction was placed within the castle by the hired blades of Clan Eshin and detonated. With the death of King Escogant and the High Courts, it was left to the people of the city to declare a new leader from amongst themselves. Before the fires had even been put out at the center of the Castle of Alpines, that decision had been reached. Opstrum Painad, the lone heir to the founding house of the city of Alpines and Headmaster of Chaotica Studies at the University of Alpines. He would soon be tested against the Vermin Plague and the full might of the Festerscar Clan"

- L'histoire de la Famille Painad

by Omer Bollen, High General of the Alpine Guard

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Festerscar Tunnels Entrance

13th Day of the 13th Month

Rotten bronze bells began to toll. Bale chimes caked in corrosion and hardened puss clanged in unholy unison. Coruk the Illuminated stood closest to the tunnel entrance, though he avoided the silver moon light as if it was death itself personified. His eternally burning eldritch torch glowed blue in his paws, stolen and corrupted from the church-shrine of one of the many villages from around the Dragon Sea in the raids of the past months. It had granted him the ability to lead with uncanny amount zeal, something that the Plague Monks had in droves already. The frenzied warriors of his Cult of Illumination flocked to his banner of contagion, hoping to either gain some of the unholy rage that Coruk contained within himself, or to steal the damned torch for themselves. It mattered little to Coruk on this most holy of days. The end of the Skaven year was the most holy of occassions, and the most appropriate time to launch this Crusade to end all Crusades. Plaguemaster Malkk would be rewarded for his great thought-plans. It was as if the gods themselves looked down and granted unnatural life to the master of Clan Festerscar. And then Coruk looked to the edge of the tunnels.

The cacophony of shrill notes was silenced immediately. All chitter-squeaking ceased. Plaguemaster Malkk looked upon his vast horde of Skaven kind and smiled a snaggletoothed grin that would chill the blood of the most enraged of Khorne's followers. "Clan-Kin!!! Today, the day of our great master-lord's ascension to the council of the great ones, is the day of our plan-scheme's beginning. You, my chosen horde, are the first-great wave of the World Sickness to be brought upon the scum-creatures of this world!" He spat a glob of something so thick that it made the sound a brick would make if it hit the cavern ground. Coruk began to feel righteous fury building within him, until he felt a damp weight on his shoulder. The old Plague Priest Zulrat was making his way to the tunnel entrance, towards Malkk. Coruk bowed before the venerable priest, his rage subsided by the sight of one so great. Would he be the leader-master of this first wave?

Malkk spread his arms wide, revealing his rotting abdomen and shriveled chest. "Clan-kin! To lead this great wave of vermintide to the south to begin the quest-task of conquering the Deathworld Forests for the harvest-gathering of many-much Felonwood Mushrooms is the Venerable Zulrat!!! He will squeak-lead you to much glory and holy redemption for our great god-rats!" Plaguemaster Malkk turned to his underling and bowed curtly before he stepped back to allow the ancient one to speak-squeak. Zulrat turned slowly to the gathered forces, the frenzied energy building into a palpable force around the cavern. His one good filth riddled eye slowly panned over the gathered, and with a slight nod to Malkk, he uttered but one single, almost unintelligible syllable.

"Go."

The great Plaguemaster turned to the hordes and lifted a paw high into the air, and then brought it down in a flash of putrid green light. The tallest Screaming Bell in the cavern moved slowly, protesting each inch with a louder whine than before. A single bell toll rolled out through the cavern. As one, the vast horde of Plaguemonks, Censer bearers, and other vermin caught up in the thick frenzy of the charge poured from the tunnel towards the south. The ground shook with the weight of the warcry they cried as they emerged into the night "PLAGUEMASTER!!!!!!" Within the horde, a dim blue light surged into a blinding flame as Coruk and his Illuminated rushed into the cool air, foaming at the mouth for the blood of the unholy.

Malkk turned from his underling Zulrot and strode towards the true bulk of his Crusade; numberless within the deep confines of the cavern. The great boiling cauldrons were already beginning to have fires lit beneath them. He had much work to do, and the dispatching of his most troubling rivals to die in the first wave was complete. No longer would the bastard Zulrat meddle in his plots. Malkk sniggered as he watched the fires catch under the black iron of the cauldrons. All would begin soon…

Taken from Jon-Hodgson on epilogue.net

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Lord Corrupter Vepseudal stroked his long, puss encrusted whiskers as he leaned back into his throne. He thought for a moment before he beckoned with a long bony finger to his nearest attendant. The creature bowed deeply and set out through the portcullis towards the realm of the great diseased ones. Another creature lay at the feet of the Lord Corrupter, which Vepseudal regarded with passing interest.

"TELL ME AGAIN OF YOUR MASTER... CHLOROTHRAX. WE MAY HAVE NEED FOR HIS... SERVICES."

The one eyed Doombull looked up at the Verminlord and a snarl of satisfaction slowly crept across the creatures scared and oozing face.....

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Photo dump of all the painted gubbins from this month. Enjoy!