It has been over a month since the prophesied return of the Battlescroll, a powerful artefact published by Sigmar every quarter with the power to determine the fate of entire armies. Despair at first turned to frustration, but now to opportunity as wordsmiths around the Realms attempt to pen their own competing versions to fill the void.
“The cost to summon daemons of Nurgle is to drop by half,” declared the Buboescroll, a foul document penned by plague worshippers. “The resilience of rot flies is to be doubled, and the spell casting ability of all magical true-believers increased. Thanks be to the Grandfather!”
The Battleshell crafted by the Idoneth Deepkin adopted a similar tone, demanding an increase to the range of Namarti Reavers’ bows and the ability to change the tides of the aethersea at a whim. We have also been provided a calcified Bonescroll from Vokmortian of the Ossiarch Bonereapers, but unfortunately the list is simply too extensive to replicate here.
We have yet to receive word from Sigmaron regarding the release date of the official Battlescroll, and there have been few hints upon which we could make our own predictions. However experts agree that it cannot be delayed for much longer, as every day it is not released the horde of angry grots demanding its arrival only grows angrier and more squig-filled.
The day has been a tough one for Idoneth aelf Luthan Clearwater as she ponders her place in the Mortal Realms, and whether she might be one of the baddies.
On the one hand, proposes the aelf, her people definitely fight against the forces of Chaos, Death and Destruction. They live in an ordered society, engage in good-faith diplomacy with other political factions, and keep the use of spikes in their decor to a minimum. In their ideal world, there would be peace and at least some level of freedom.
On the other hand, they do literally steal souls from innocent villagers. Luthan believes that this ultimately serves a greater good, since aelves use the souls better than any human could, but is starting to think that others might not see it that way. The practice of carving runes of domination and control into the flesh of sea creatures initially had her worried, but surely that isn’t any different to how other civilisations treat their own livestock.
On reflection, Luthan did come to the conclusion that the Idoneth Deepkin are a force of good in the Realms and set her mind at ease. This was particularly good news for her Namarti slaves, who were concerned at being beaten again if she got into a bad mood.
It has been months since Duinclaw, the little crab that could, ascended to godhood on a wave of passionate belief and fanatical faith. In that time the crustacean has tasted all the fruits that divinity has to offer, and has reportedly grown tired of his blessed existence.
“Phlbth,” he burbled to us, exuding a sense of both supreme power and deep-seated weariness.
This exhaustion with godhood is not a new phenomenon, and we have reason to believe that every god has encountered it at some point in their lives. The most common restorative appears to be taking up a hobby, as demonstrated by Khorne’s skull throne, Nagash’s black pyramids, and Teclis’ penchant for murdering his own children.
In order to reflect on his existence, Duinclaw intends to take a holiday for a short while. He leaves his followers in the talented fins of his companion Spinefin, who has promised to continue Duinclaw’s magnanimous reign until he returns. The God-Crab’s own plans are being kept secret to protect his privacy, but rumours indicate he plans to bury himself in sand for a while and perhaps snap his claws at some birds, one of his old favourite pastimes.