Resplendent daemonic horde faces monochromatic counterpart

Ul’katoosh, Lord of Change, has long been known throughout the Realms not only for their flawless generalship, but also for the incredibly high standard of their army’s appearance. It has come as little surprise then to hear that they have engaged in bitter combat with a rival, the greyscale legion of Tooshka’ul.

A tale as old as time, Ul’katoosh has taken offence at their rival’s paucity of colour. According to those with first hand experience fighting for the Greater Daemon, they spend an extravagant amount of time polishing their minions’ armour, designing elaborate tattoos, and orchestrating waves of daemonic colour to create the most spectacular impression on the battlefield. The concept of an army completely devoid of vibrancy is abhorrent to the Lord of Change, thus sparking the violent conflict we see today.

It seems unlikely that the two Greater Daemons will find any common ground, and as time goes on daemonic allies from both sides are beginning to join the fray. We will bring you any updates as they occur, but this reporter is doubtful that anything can change.

Update: We are pleased to report that the unthinkable has happened. According to our sources the two Greater Daemons, previously committed to bellowing passionate threats at each other across the battlefield, took to talking during a lull in the fighting. We can exclusively report that Tooshka’ul, master of the colourless horde, complimented Ul’katoosh’s resplendent force and generalship, and revealed that he had only summoned his own army in order to have the chance to test wits against him in battle. Ul’katoosh graciously accepted the compliment and extended one in return, commending Tooshka’ul’s ability on the battlefield. He admitted that although he much prefers fighting a force as beautiful as his own, he had still enjoyed their melee a great deal. The two have shaken hands, promising to see each other once again.

The Order of Azyr forbids any citizen of the Free Cities from learning lessons from the Daemons of Chaos.

Nurgle word game takes Realms by storm

Sweeping the Mortal Realms faster than the plagues its namesake brews, Nurgle has become a quick favourite for those needing a quick daily break from the age of endless war. Here’s how it works:

A grid of buboes will appear on the user’s skin, typically the thigh or another location with a lot of space. The bearer then has six attempts to guess a word randomly chosen each day, with their guesses becoming imprinted on each fleshy lump. The grid itself will give hints to the bearer, filling with yellow fluid if a letter is correct but misplaced, and squirting celebratory mucus on a correct guess.

The Order of Azyr has taken a grim view of the pastime, citing the daemonic influence and the time wasted at work. Sanitisation stations have been set up to allow those afflicted to have the grid removed without charge, though potential users are recommended to organise a week of work following the procedure in order to recover.

Editor’s note: We have received word that a failure to guess the word after six attempts may result in the player’s belly rupturing with a parade of Nurglings. For players on their sixth guess we recommend staying calm, finding a friend, and consulting your local dictiomancer.

“It’ll be our time soon,” insists Gor about to die from old age

Today marks the annual Proclamation of the Coming Beastening, a regular event put on by local beastman Merinok the Prophet. Every year the aging Gor stands upon his rock on the border of town, and vows the impending victory of beast-kind.

“You shoe-wearers’ days are numbered!” wheezed Merinok, leaning heavily on his club. “The Brayherds are rising, just you wait!”

Commentators have advised onlookers to take these doomsayings with a grain of salt, pointing out that Merinok has been saying this for years without much success. One particularly omniscient seer was able to peer into alternate realities, and revealed that even in other dimensions beastmen have tended to receive a low estimation from their opponents.

Sadly it seems Merinok’s days of prophecy are numbered, with the elderly gor hanging onto life by a thread. Rumours indicate that his health is such that the only food he is able to consume is soup, a suggestion furiously refused by the Beastman.

Followers of the Prophet may have reason to hope however, as news filters through the Realms of the victories of a herd of Bullgors in the Vega Plains. Upon hearing the news Merinok was able to launch into a second lengthy diatribe, wowing the town’s inhabitants but reportedly not impressing the other Beastmen, who have apparently heard it all before.