True but hey, the Osgilliath would’ve been a Gondor victory. 
Thanks for reading guys. Continued the Thomas plot a little and did some hydra stuff.
This is a true story btw. Those hydralords in my current game did loads of damage.
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How about this: We have the eagles carry the hydra into battle through the sky. Let the audience call THAT an overused plot device. Although those giant wereworms should’ve decided the battle right away, even if there’s suddenly a sky-hydra kicking ass and taking names.
And @Gorvar, your citadel actually reminded me of Osgilliath a bit, only black rather than white.
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Ideas for you guys.
My current game is called the Dreadfull Genie.
So this got me thinking…since genies are more of a arabian fable thing…what other continents would there be outside of Alundria?
My challenge. Come up with a Arabian or African continent plus people ( think perhaps about Alundrian colonists meeting a long lost tribe of elves) or a Bestiary about creatures wechavent seen yet like Medusas or Manticores or Cocktraces that are native to Alundria.
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Also for you Dwarf fans out there…
Gryphon Banner
My axe severs what once was a goblin’s head from it’s decaying shoulders.
The smell of death and the burning feeling of exhaustion aches me, but on I march. I quickly turn behind and raise the blue banner in the air, signalling the army to keep pushing.
Behind me I see two of my brothers, Vili and Ve, reloading their blunderbusses before firing another round, whooping about scores as the oncoming wave of death keep coming in while others prepare the cannon to fire another blast at the coming enemy.
I am born in their caste, the technical strongholds where we worship the ancestors and use technology our brightest had developed to keep our people and others protected from all evil. We live under the ground, inside the mountains. We only come upward because our duties demanded it so.
To my right I see the Wing Warriors and the Gryphon horn replenish their powers by drinking a potion of mana, given to them by one of our human allies. With a frenzy one could only get with worshipping the spirits rather than the ancestors, I see them get into a frenzy and lunge themselves at the blight, maces and axes swinging. Topsiders or Cloud heads, they prefer to life atop of the mountain than under it.
A loud shrieking makes me turn to my left and I see red capped smaller dwarves in blue charge in with scythes. We all know there is something off with our Gnomish cousins, their friendships with the elves and living in the forests made them…weird. Yet, here we are.
Groundling, Cloudhead and Treehuggers. All together under one banner. My banner.I look upon it, despite the bloodstains and tears, I still see the majestic gryphon that represents all of dwarfkind.
We are all children of the stone, made out of the hardest material. Sturdy, stubborn…and the best tool needed to smash some blighter’s head in.
A loud voice echoes through the valley, a voice belonging to a king." Advance, children of the Stone! We will reclaim the Iron Crown!"
“THROR!” A cry goes out amongst my kind." THROR! THROR!"
And with a suicidal charge, we charge into the wave of death. For we are dwarves and made of stone.
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Who wants a story about a villain next?
Think Count Dracula levels of bad.
A dark sun rising…
The cold wind made his dark cloak wave behind him like a canvas torn apart by a mad beast.
His cloak matched his attire befitting a noble lord, his long hair and his neatly trimmed beard was snow white much like his own skin. But his eyes were that of a blood red, the kind of red only demons possessed. Filled with cruelty, malice…yet patience.
He stood upon the deck as his creatures worked rigorously on maintaining the ship. Unlike their master they were undead, However unlike the wretched beings infected with the blight in Alundria, these beings moved with purpose much like they would’ve done in life. With the added bonus that they did not tire.
They along with the other ghouls on the other ships of this black fleet worked tirelessly to sail from their home of Transylvan on the continent of Arabiana to Alundria. A voyage that was taking three months.
Three months without proper feeding.
The master’s ears heard the screeching from afar and did not even look up, passed his black sails, to see the large bat creatures fly overhead.
Below the hold, he heard his living servants sleep and play dice, with the more feral ones growling in anticipation of the blood that would be spilled. Living or otherwise.
The master did not care, he only cared they kept the two most important artefacts he had in the hold safe from all harm.
He heard one of the loving walk towards him, a noblemen like himself except he was human with a beating heart and a tanned skin.
The visitor said no word and merely stood beside the master, both looking towards land appearing in the distance. The isles of Oasis, the master recalled. Where the Orcs and Elves rule.
“No turning back now.” his companion said as if to himself but the master knew it was meant for him as well.
He spoke. “Radun, do not tell me we will have the same conversation again.“
The visitor shook his head.” No, Vlad. We had three months of that. If you believe Transylvan will be safe from our enemies and their Immortals, manticores and rocs so be it. Right now what you want and I want are the same.“
The master frowned.” Were it not for the fact you and I shared blood, I would’ve struck you down for your insolence.”
“If you did…” Radun turned to the master." I would’ve told mother on you." A wry grin danced on his lips, a gesture returned by the master.
Radun placed his hand on the master’ shoulder, the only one on the fleet who was allowed to do so safe for his daughter. " We will get her back, brother. This I swear by my beating heart.“
The master returned the gesture.” And I vow by my black husk of one, it will happen."
A moment of comradery passed that would’ve stirred the heart of the master if it was alive, until a knight in the blackest of armour walked up to his master and saluted. Radun felt unnerved from the knight, for he know despite the fact she was completely covered, she did not breath. For she was like his brother, one of the vampyre.
“Count Drakul.” she said." Our scouts report the Blight has begun it’s infection on the isles. A horde of human, orc and elven undead march under the guidance of a nightmare lord.“
The master smirked.” Very good, it is time we test this Blight.“
Radun turned to his brother.” Is that wise, brother? We could use the genie to make all of this easier. We would still have two wishes-“
Drakul’s blood red eyes rested upon Radun, the gaze which turned the noblemen mute. That was the end of that conversation. He turned to his knight.” Lady Elvyra, inform the Black Fleet. Raise the Black Sun, let Alundria know the Dragon has come to claim what is his."
In the remains of what once was a beautiful elven village, the dead were feasting. The defenders were quickly overrun by the sheer numbers and only few of the villagers survived. Those who were not fast enough either joined the ranks or were fed upon.
The Nightmare lord munched on the remains of what once was a child, his face in a constant state of horror as it’s teeth wolfed down it’s organs. A limb fell off as it kept feeding, despite every mouthful it took it never felt sated. Forever cursed to be hungry. Forev-
A loud screeching sound made it’s turn it’s head. It’s elven eyes still worked, despite being undead, and saw in the distance a host was approaching. At first it was glad, for there was more meat to eat. But when it sniffed the air…it noticed something was wrong.
For the warhost that marched towards them was not of the living…yet it did not belong to them.
By the time the first of the Immortals died, it was to late to react. Like a wild horde it attacked it’s enemies, but much like the living these undead foes were fast. The footsoldiers were dressed in armour, some looking more like skeletons than the decaying corpses, marching under the banner of a black sun. They hacked and slashed with expertise. The Nightmare lord looked to the night sky and screamed, the mana inside it churning as it cried for the magic to work. Sending the enemy running as it normally would do. It closed it’s decaying eyelids to absorb the powers…and received none. None of the foe was fleeing.
A loud howl sounded from the forests as feral wolf creatures jumped through the foliage and tore more of the Immortals apart.
The skeleton warriors carved a way through the decaying horde as knights in black armour marched upon steeds of the same midnight colour, their swords cutting apart flesh from bone. One of them wore no visor, making his white hair and face with red eyes easy to see.
For a moment the red eyed fiend gaze lingered on the nightmare lord…and another moment later that lord joined into the After.
Radun smiled as he wiped the black blood of his sword." That was a good fight."
“Yes indeed.” Elvira agreed as she sheathed her sword." And it seems not even this Blight can withstand the powers of the master." She pointed to some of the more intact Blighted who began to stir. Already some of the blighted victims rose once more…and joined the ranks of the Black Sun. Undead soldiers handed the ex-Immortals weapons and armour before they marched off to be trained.
Drakul nodded." Yes…but there will be many more." His head turned to the east." Before we reach the Citadel and claim it’s mana pools."
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[quote]The cold wind made his dark cloak wave behind him like a canvas torn apart by a mad beast.
His cloak matched his attire befitting a noble lord, his long hair and his neatly trimmed beard was snow white much like his own skin. But his eyes were that of a blood red, the kind of red only demons possessed. Filled with cruelty, malice…yet patience. [/quote]
Santa claus? Did you Rick roll me with a Chrismas special?
Just kidding, this was a great story. The liberties one can take by introducing completely new characters certainly were certainly used to their full extend here. Immortals, you are but novices compared to the true monsters of this world.
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You better watch out, you better nor cry…
Thanks for the read man 
Im slowly trying to inteoduce this Arabian style continent and i thought this eastern european idea would be a good first salvo.
Come on folks! Show me some awesome stories!
You get 10 hero coins outta it for free!
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Sorry, neither the inspiration nor the time I’m afraid.
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Got something cool planned to further expand on the lore of Alundria besides just cards. Think of an encyclopedia made by the Greys akin to what monks did back in the medieval days.
Like a culture guide on each of the six races and each of the maps we fight on daily. Myths and legends, history, heroes and villains.
Kinda gives Alundria a lived in feel.
Ill be doing that after the holidays since i dont have my laptop on me heh.
Anyways, happy holidays guys!
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Encyclopaedia Alundria
Dwarven strongholds and their citizens. A short (*) overview of the Children of stone.
By Brother Toth of the Gray Council.
(*) Pun not intended.
The dwarves are one of Alundria’s eldest races.
The self-proclaimed Children of stone have made their homes in the mountains ever since the first human magi made their home at the Citadel and started to learn the ways of magic from the elven pilgrims and are one of the three major races that represent Order in Alundria.
These short, bearded individuals are master craftsmen, miners, warriors and musicians and have defended the human plains and elven forests from Orcish, troll and goblin interlopers before the coming of the dreaded Blight and what role they play now in this new Blighted world.
In this short excerpt I shall introduce you faithful reader to their culture.
Genesis.
According to their tales, much like our God who had first created the world and then the giants to be our protectors, the dwarves believe they to were created by a invisible deity. When this deity made the mountains, the mountains in turn made the dwarves out of clay. It was their duty to form and protect the mountains, to protect their creators and use their lifeblood (Such as ore, gems and lava) to achieve that goal.
The first recording of human dealing with dwarves is the old kingdom of Gryphon’s Crown in the Sanctuary province five hundred years before the first recorded Blight in Bucktooth Bay. Then King Ivar ordered the construction of his castle and hired several dwarven craftsmen from the nearby dwarven kingdom. By this time the local nobility already knew the ingenuity and the craftsmanship of the dwarven folk and there are traces of trade going up and from the mountain strongholds to the human villages.
Some annals that are recovered mention human and dwarven weddings to cement trade alliances and the royal line of Gryphon’s Crown can be trace their ancestry back to several dwarven ancestors such as bankers or even dwarven royalty much like how Alestrian royal bloodline is tied to elven royalty.
The bound between man and dwarf was so great that when the great Orc Warchief Gorvar the Dragon Rider came from the Desert island off the coast of Alundria to invade Sanctuary, dwarven mountain strongholds held the Orcish hordes and gave the human knights and elven princes time to rally their forces to throw back the Orc horde.
Dwarven stubbornness and the refusal to give up won the day.
However that stubbornness is a double edged sword and that unyielding loyalty to protect their friends has also created enmity between the other Chaotic half of the Grand Alliance, elves and even themselves…
Dwarven castes and society.
There are three confirmed types of dwarf and one rumoured one.
The three types are the Groundling dwarves, Mountain dwarves and the Gnomes. There are rumours of a fourth type called Dark dwarves but more on that latter.
The Groundlings live inside the mountains like their ancestors before them. These are the miners, warriors, bankers, inventors, blacksmiths and mountain kings. They are a head shorter than a man but also stockier and all men (and some women) have long beards that are considered a badge of honour for them.
They do not hate the topside world but prefer to life within and protect their mountain homes and shape them along by creating magnificent underground cities and thaigs lined with pillars that hold up the mountain ceiling above them, diamonds that light up the dark corridors and mines that run deep under ground.
Ore is very important to the Groundlings as they use it to make tools, armour, weapons, the road that connects strongholds and everything else.
Gold is mined from the mountain and used by the bankers to create a economy and trade to the other races down below. Before the time of the Blight the dwarves had a fierce rivalry with the goblins and frequently fought the green skinned creatures over the gold mines both deep below the surface and on the trade routes above.
They are also traders who frequent the human settlements and secure gold, food, mana from the mana pool and other things. Some dwarves made small homes on hilltops near human villages and are the closest things to a embassy for dwarven travellers.
They are the smartest of the dwarven clans as they are the ones responsible for the discovery of gunpowder. A mix of chemistry, mana and ore, the Groundlings found a way to create a powder that when ignited could send a attack much akin like a fireball spell from one of their weapons called a “gun”.
These Blunderbusses and cannons helped defend dwarven strongholds against monster, dragon and Immortal alike.
However their caste system is quite rigid.
Every dwarf is born into a specific caste. Either a smith, inventor, a miner, a hammerer (warrior) or a banker.
When a dwarf becomes “bearded” (a adult and yes it is used for both genders), they follow their forefathers in their respective fields. It is possible for a dwarf to change castes but it is extremely difficulty and costs a lot of money and approval with the Mountain King and the council of Lords and Ladies. As such the poorer members of the caste cannot switch as easily and would need sponsorship.
Dwarven law is harsh as well, if a dwarf commits a crime it could reflect the entire family and in some instances meaning they get kicked out of the caste and forced to wander the underground streets of the thaigs. Many forge urchins are testament to orphans who could not find a new caste and are forced to scrap for coin any way they can.
This harshness and unwillingness to adapt is the reason why there are other types of dwarf.
Mountain dwarves are one of the two other types who have rejected the stubbornness of Groundling culture and moved above the mountains. There they joined the farmers who cultivated the sheep there and created their own culture. They look mostly the same to the Groundling kin but are slightly taller. and wear attire befitting mountain dwellers.
As such there is no caste system but there are two different type of Mountain dwarves (or Cloud heads as their subterranean brothers and sisters like to call them).
One group are the aforementioned farmers. They were shepherds and farmers who had to grow food on the fertile soil there and were once part of the shepherd caste. However when more exiles from below the mountain came and with anger with them, the shepherd caste left that system and were it not for their loyalty to the mountain, there would’ve been a civil war.
The other group are the Gryphon tamers. These dwarves do not worship the mountain but instead have adopted a new religion much like shamanism the Orcs have worshipped.
Native to the mountains are Gryphons, winged beasts who once were seen as a pest and a threat to the dwarven livestock and both races fought one another. According to legend one dwarven shepherdess had a vision from the spirit of the wilds that took the form of a gryphon and pleaded for peace.
This dwarf went to the nearest gryphon rook the next day and studied them. Every day from dusk till dawn the young dwarf travelled to the rook and studied how the gryphons ate, flew, interacted with each other. Her fellows called her mad until they saw her do the impossible…and tame a whole flight of gryphons.
She would be known as Thane Brunhilde, the first of the Gryphon Riders.
Only few could become riders but the more martial of the Mountain Dwarves adopted a combat style similar to a gryphon and would be known as Winged Warriors. These warriors can work themselves into a trance by drinking mana and connect to the spirit of the wild and their Gryphon kin.
Mountain dwarves are ruled by a thane who in turn obeys the call of the Mountain King.
The last tribe of dwarf are the Gnomes. Although they are still called the children of the stone by their kin, they are “still stone but with some moss on top of them”.
These dwarves are smaller than their mountain dwelling cousins and wear blue clothing and red caps. Unlike their kin they do not life in the mountains but in the forests. Under the shade of the trees, the Gnomes have grown shorter than their cousins in the mountains but have grown faster and know the woods like the back of their hand. They worship the spirit of the wild much like the Mountain dwarves but prefer to worship the same spirit of the forest the elves do. As such the Gnomes are much closer to the elves rather than the humans.
According to Groundling legend, a large group of dwarves did not like the ways of the mountains and left. When they came to the forest they wanted to come back but the mountain rejected them so they could never return to their ancestral homes. In desperation they had to consort with the evil elves who corrupted them and made a reunion with the old, proper dwarven ways impossible. As such the gnomes were to be pitied.
The gnomes counter this. According to their legends, it all began with one dwarf farmer. Like the others he lived in the mountains but when he herded his sheep along the mountainside, he saw the forests down below. He had never seen such a sight before. The green, the brown and the faint smell of green. He talked to this to his friends who all said the same. The mountain protects us from the elements. If he would even step off the mountain, it would forsake him. Eventually he went down there and saw this wonderful land filled with life and sounds. He found these strange red fruits that hung on the trees. He picked one and found them delicious so he picked some more and brought them home back on the mountain. He shared them with his friends who wanted to eat more of this fruit, so they followed him down. In time these dwarves would remain longer and longer in the forest, eventually learning from the elves how to build homes, travel across the trees and how to hunt. And so the first Gnomes were born.
The Gnomes live in villages in the forests into several clans and share a alliance with the local elves. Their respect for nature and stature would make one ponder if these creatures ever were dwarves to begin with.
Save for their beards the only thing that would mark them as dwarf is their means of manipulating metal. Many elven princesses and Assassins had their swords made by Gnomes before it was blessed by elven magic.
Gnomes are ruled by a Major who are elected every seven years but like all dwarves obey the call of the Mountain King.
The last rumoured tribe are the Dark Dwarves. Only spoken of by parents who want their children to behave lest these dwarves take them away deep, deep under the surface where evil things lurk to work in their sulphur mines.
They are rumoured to have white skin and red eyes with long black beards. They had black armour, blacker than the blackest night that absorbed all light.
Again these are just tales but some rumours of abandoned dwarven settlements left no traces of what happened to their citizens save for large tunnels that were collapsed behind them.
When a dwarf passes on, he or she is lowered into the lava stream down below to become one with the mountain and rejoin their mountain parents. However because of the recent Blight this custom has sadly stopped and dwarves are cremated first before their ashes are tossed among the ravines of the mountains.
Dwarves who do not life near the mountains often end up being buried inside the soil of the largest hill in the area.
Gnomes have a similar custom but they are buried under the soil of the forest where a tree is planted with the body, a custom taken from the elves to symbolise the cycle of life and death in the forest.
Government
Like the humans, the dwarves are ruled by monarchy.
The Mountain King is not hereditary per se and much like a Gnomish Major could be elected if the ruling council of Lords and Ladies, nobility and leaders of the castes.
A King can be of either gender and of any caste, although there have been so far in recorded history no Mountain dwarf or Gnomish Mountain Kings.
To become a Mountain King, a dwarf has to be chosen by the previous king or by the majority of the council. After that the candidate is locked in the crypt of his or her forebears for several days with no food or water along with a large thick tome called the book of grudges. The default amount is seven but the days or even hours change in the case from kingdom to kingdom or from situation to situation.
These book of grudges contains insults and crimes committed to the dwarves in the past who have not yet been corrected.
After the days are over the candidate flips the book of grudges to a random page and will focus his or her efforts on solving that issue in the book.
The fact that most of the dwarven kings have supported the Grand Alliance, despite their dislike for the Orcs, Trolls and Goblins, is because most book of grudges’ pages are filled with the threat of the Blight.
Diet.
Dwarves are omnivorous like most Alundrian species (especially since the goblins and trolls renounced cannibalism) and eat a diet of both meat and vegetables.
Groundling and Mountain dwarves both share the same food supply of sheep, cheese, potatoes and other vegetables that could be grown on the fertile soil.
Gnomes enjoy more exotic tastes such as fruits, berries and venison found in the forests.
Religion.
All dwarves worship the mountains and see them as the creators of their race. During the Winter Solstice and the Equinox a festival is had from the surface to the summit of the mountain with numerous bonfires going along it where the dwarves celebrate their creators with food, ale, dancing, gold sacrifices,games and fornication.
Dwarves who live on hillsides in other lands celebrate as well with one bonfire and food and drink.
During these “Feast of life” festivals all dwarves (and other races) are permitted to join in the activities.
The Groundlings have a ancestry worship and often frequent the ancestors for guidance on all matters ranging from financial to love and job assignments. Every dwarven household in the mountain has a small room with figures with a set of small statues set aside which represent the ancestors. A gold coin is placed in a tray near the figures as offerings and can only be emptied on “Forefathers day” which falls on dwarven new year when it’s all given to the children of the household and could be spend on candy, gifts or for the wiser children saved up or invested.
The Mountain dwarves follow the way of the Spirit of the Wild and often perform blood sacrifices on sheep (or themselves according to more barbaric tribes) to satisfy the Gryphons and the Spirit of the Wild.
Unlike most races who rest on the last day of the week, Mountain dwarves rest on Thursdays for it is on that day Thane Brunhilde, gifted by the spirt of the Wild’s lightning bolts, smote the black dragon that nearly destroyed the mountain clans and their roosts.
As such on Forefathers eve, a female dwarf dresses as Brunhilde and gives sweets to all the children before performing a mock battle with a black dragon.
Gnomes have many festivals and feasts with the dates switching every year due to the position of the stars or the moon or because simply they want a celebration. Most feasts are social affairs where people tend to gather around bonfires with wine or ale to gossip. They often join elven parties and are known to bring “proper” refreshments for these events.
Many do travel back towards the mountain for the “Feast of life” festivals. If it is to reconnect with their dwarven cousins or just a excuse to have ANOTHER feast is up to the individual.
Relations with other races.
Humans: Humanity and the dwarves share the closest of bounds ever since both races began trading with one another generations ago and as such many humans and dwarven families have the other’s blood in their bloodlines. They fought shoulder to hip against the greenskin hordes and stood fast against the Blight of the Immortals ever since the first Blight War.
Their common love for gold, battle and ale are the ties that bind the two races together.
Human scholars believe that God and the being that created the mountains that created the dwarves are the same being. As such traveling Groundling dwarves are very welcome during Church sermons and human trades are often invited to the Feast of life festivals when they occur twice a year.
As such dwarves are often allowed to build houses on hills near human villages and even have quarters in most human towns while humans have embassies in dwarven strongholds.
Elves; Although they are closer to the elves than the greenskin races of the Grand Alliance, dwarven relations to elves is much akin to tolerating a drunk uncle at a family gathering.
According to the oldest of Book of Grudges from the Mountain Kings, the citizens of the forest and the dwarves were once friends and had ties as close as they have currently with the humans. However during a important wedding a dwarven emissary was murdered along with most of his delegation due to food poisoning. When the Mountain King inquired and demanded answers he was met by a arrogant prince who refused any comments and even cut off the beard of the envoy. A short war lasted which forced the elves into the forests where they remained to this day. Although time has healed most wounds, and the threat of the Blight supersedes ancient grudges, dwarven warriors are often reluctant to work with elves.
The only exception being the Gnomes who reside in the same forests the elves do and have taken a liking to their culture. To the elves, the gnomes are a olive branch and start to renew the ancient bounds of friendship. To the Groundling and Mountain dwarves however, their forest dwelling kin are being duped and used as pawns in a new infernal game of treachery.
Greenskin: Orcs, trolls and goblins have bad ties with the children of stone. Before the coming of the Blight, these tree waged war against the dwarves. Many strongholds were sacked by the Orc Warchief known as Gorvar the Dragonrider during what is known as the Second Troll war when Gorvar’s Orc hordes joined forces with the trolls who hated the dwarves and goblin mercenary bands. Dwarven gunpowder held off the attackers at first but were it not for the speedy aid of the human kings, most of northern Alundria would to this day be speaking orcish.
There were heroes on both sides during the conflict. Thane Brunhilde, the first and leader of the Gryphon riders, the Sea King Morgan (a pirate captain who made himself king), the Sorceress Queen Morganna I of Gryphon’s Crown, Mayor Hadhod of the Gnomish Ivy Climbers, Gorvar the Dragonrider who turned orcish infighting to a new foe and the Trollok (The hybrid of a orc and troll union) Prince Shrah who forged an alliance with the Orcs.
The war lasted for years until a Alliance of dwarves and men (plus some aid from the elves and traitorous goblin mercs) bested Gorvar at Ravenspire where Thane Brunhilde and her gryphons tore Gorvar’s dragon to pieces and made the orc fall down to his death.
This event is still remembered by the orcs in a mixed way, on one hand they lost a Paragon of the sun but on the other…it was a really good fight.
Goblins share a more intense rivalry both financially and resource wise in the mountains. Dwarven miners and goblin scavengers frequently skirmish in the underground tunnels of Alundria, despite the Grand Alliance ceasefire.
Famous Dwarves
Mountain King Freya Daindotter: Queen of Coolcraig and ruler of the Dwarves during the War for Sanctuary and the start of the Second Blight and veteran of the First Blight where she took over the reign from her father after he was corrupted to be one of the Immortals.
She led a army of dwarves alongside Prince Halmadir and King Leopold that drove the Immortals to extinction in that region.
Mountain King Thror: The ruler of the dwarves in the Iron Crown Province, said to be a exile from Sanctuary who has risen the ranks to Mountain King been illicit means. Kidnapping, mana smuggling, blackmail and other accusations have been thrown at him by his opponents. His special friendship with the Orc Warchief Grella of the Laughing axes and the Troll prince Aziboo did not help take away that darker image.
Because of his more progressive view on caste changing and close ties to Alestrian royalty and his heroic actions during the first (*) Battle for Iron Crown , he has remained firmly seated on the throne.
{*) A Second battle is currently ongoing by this time of writing.
Mara of the Mushroom Leapers: A gnome messenger turned ambassador between the gnome clans of their dwarven cousins in Sanctuary. It was because of her plea that Mountain King Freya joined the cause against the Blight at the start of the War for Sanctuary. Her unification of the Gnomish and Dwarven people made her matriarch of the Groundling House Axehamerer and mayor of her clan for several terms.
Mayor Hadhod of the Gnomish Ivy Climbers: A gnome mayor who led the Ivy Climber clan during the Second Troll war. He and his clan were responsible in stopping the troll advance that would’ve destroyed Ravenspire by using forest guerrilla tactics. He was also responsible for bribing goblin mercenary bands to turn traitor and switch from the greenskin horde to the side of the Alliance.
Thane Brunhilde: The first thane of the Mountain Dwarves and first of the Gryphon Riders.
A former shepherdess who learned how to tame Gryphons and consolidated Mountain Dwarves independence from their Groundling peers. Slew Warchief Gorvar during the Second Troll War.
Thane of Gryphon’s Peak: The ruling lord of Gryphon’s Peak who was responsible for sending plagued gryphons to Molten Forge and Stormy Fortress and the first dwarven leader to fall to the First Blight.
Due to gross incompetence and shame, his name was stricken from the records and the survivors from Gryphon’s Peak, Stonemason Hill and Foxpass Fort were all cast out for the part they played in the destruction of much of the province.
The Twins of Ravenspire: Nalim and Kalim, a pair of dwarven brothers who oversaw the defense of Ravenspire when a troll Bridge Witch called a herd of Immortals into a trap set up by the twins. With their traps, dwarven canon and human storm magic the large herd was destroyed. Unfortunately both bickered for years until their blonde beards turned grey about who won a certain bet that day.
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Gonna do a bit more about the Vampire units later.
Got some ideas there 
So I kinda had an idea to introduce a new army in my stories, think Vampire Counts from Warhammer but given a personal spin. Giving the 6 races of Alundria something else to fight beside the Blight and such.
Synopsis: The Transylvan are the descendants of a Alundrian kingdom that was exiled shortly after the First Blight for using necromantic magicks to protect their own kingdom at the cost of countless lives. After the First Blight they were send in a large fleet towards one of the many islands around Alundria but got lost at sea because of a mystical storm and ended up on the coasts of the eastern continent of Arabiana. Arabiana is a vast continent with it’s own many creatures such as the manticore and the land where the powerful Genie’s can be found. The people who would become the Transylvans were stranded because their ships were to damaged and could not return back to Alundria.
They managed to make a few settlements but were beset on all sides by foreign creatures and nations such as the Van Xian Empire and the Arabiana’ Sultanas. Desperate to survive the settlers scattered to the lands their enemies could not follow. It was a dark land where the sun never quite penetrates the clouds, the trees are pitch black and the sense of dread hangs around constantly. The locals dubbed this land Transylvan.
When one Van Xian warlord was brave enough he marched his army of stone soldiers to the land to wipe out the invaders. Many moons passed before he returned…as the leader of a army made of the undead along with his vampiric masters.
The scared settlers from before have been changed from when they were last seen. Corrupted, frightening and fearless.
Among their number are the undead, werewolves, fearless men and of course the Vampires. A host of death, more sophisticated than a Blighted Horde.
Now Transylvan is the third major power in Arabiana and has fought both the Sultanas and the Van Xian to a stalemate. In this ceasefire of sorts the Transylvan’s have turned their eye back to their homeland of Alundria which has been weakened severely by the Blight…
Black Sun Hero Cards.
Transylvan Warriors.
Art: Similar to that of the Human Warrior but clad in darker armour and slightly paler skin.
Fluff: Do not underestimate a man who has no fear of death, for who has nothing left to lose.
Powers: None.
Rating; Common. (Can be trained at Transylvan settlements).
Unit: 500. (50 x 10)
Speed: 4 hours by road.
Undead warriors.
Art; A undead version of the Transylvan Warrior, more skeletal now.
Fluff; Death is not a ending but a beginning.
Powers; After a Transylvan warrior dies there is a 75 percent change he is converted to a Undead warrior.
Rating; Common.
Unit: NA.
Speed; 4 hours by road.
Transylvan Riders.
Art; A light rider on a brown horse, much like the Knight.
Fluff; Much like Alundrian Knights, Transylvan riders have not forgotten how to ride a horse.
Powers; None.
Rating; Common.
Unit; 400 (20 x 20)
Speed; 3 hours by road.
Vampire Commander
Art; A pale, red skinned eye vampire in armour, leaning on a blood covered sword.
Fluff; "I thirst for blood. You there oaf, fetch me that one! He looks very ripe…"
Powers: Undead Overseer. Gives all Transylvan units in the Vampire Commander’s army a +5 Strength.
Rating; Common.
Unit; 1 x 200.
Speed; 3 hours by road.
Witch.
Art: Stereotypical witch with the broom and cat, except more beautiful and mysterious looking.
Fluff; "The night sings to me, listen to the music it makes…"
Powers: Black magic. Ranged attack within a 2 league area suffer a Strength attack of 8 where X is the population of Witches
Rating Common.
Unit: 100 x 1.
Speed; 3 hours by road.
Corpse Wagon.
Art: A shady looking man on a black carriage, a banner of a Black sun behind him as several caskets are behind that.
Fluff: A steady supply of fresh corpses is needed to supply the war effort. As such Corpse Wagons are the mainstay of a Transylvan army.
Power: You may deploy Transylvan cards on the Corpse Wagon. The population will be drawn from the nearest settlement.
Rating: Common.
Unit: 150, 1 x 150.
Speed: 4 hours by road.
Necromancer
Art; a more Eastern European looking version of our Necromancer. Or re-use Necromancer art but have him more human looking.
Fluff; Among the settlers to Arabiana were several Necromancers who fled Alundria after the First Blight. Where in Alundria they are hated, in Transylvan they were the people’s only chance of survival.
Power; Necromancy. Can summon half a graveyard worth of undead as Undead Warriors or one unit from a Corpse Wagon every 16 hours.
Rating: Common.
Unit: 1 x 50.
Speed; 4 hours by road.
Werewolves.
Art; That of a pack of werewolves charging/ripping a Blighted immortal apart.
Fluff; Among the darker magicks that saved the Alundrian settlers was that of the curse of the wolf. Every nightfall these cursed transform into their bestial form and only by the grace of the vampire lords do they keep their sentience.
Power; None.
Unit: 700. (10 x 70 )
Rating; Uncommon.
Speed; 3 hours by road.
Black Knights.
Art; That of a knight, completely covered in black riding a black steed. The shield has a black sun as it’s crest.
Fluff: Some of Transylvans nobility send their sons and daughters to become Black Knights, vassals of the Vampire counts. Whenever they charged into battle, morale drops to all. Even the undead.
Power; Eyes of evil, All Immortals in 1 league area lose -5 Strength for 8 hours.
Unit: 650. 50 x 13.
Rating; Uncommon.
Speed: 4 hours by road.
Manticore riders.
Art: A eastern looking woman riding a manticore, a needle shooting from it’s tail as she rides to the reader.
Fluff; Generations of being in Arabiana has given the Transylvans a chance to domesticate the local wildlife. Thanks to the vampire charms these once very hostile predators now serve as proud mounts.
Power: Manticore pikes, Strength X to 10 attack where X is the population of Manticore riders.
Unit: 480, 20 x 24.
Rating; Uncommon.
Speed; 3 hours by road.
Ghouls.
Art; Frankenstein’s monster looking creature, the stitched body parts stuck together thing not the Boris Karlof version.
Fluff: "Kill. Destroy. Eat"
Power; Enrage. Gain 2 x strength for 24 hours.
Unit: 640, 40 x 16.
Rating; Uncommon.
Speed: 6 hours by road.
Vampire Count.
Art; A well dressed lord looking man with pale skin, blood red eyes drinking from a cup.
Fluff; The Vampire counts are akin to kings in Alundria. They run Transylvan settlements demand taxes and sacrifices when needed. The more benevolent counts tend to drink the blood from their enemies rather than their own.
Power: The thirst of blood, select one unit (mortal or Immortal). This unit suffers a ranged attack equal to the Count’ strength. When a unit is consumed, the Count gains +5 strength.
Rating; Uncommon.
Speed; 3 hours.
Vampiric Bat Riders.
Art; Vampires in armour riding on large bats.
Fluff; Only the Vampires can domesticate the giant bats on both Alundria and Arabiana. These creature’ thirst for blood is just as large as that of their masters.
Power; None. (Can only be deployed at Bat nests)
Unit: 5 X 2500.
Rating; Rare.
Speed: 2.5 hours flying.
Giant Bat
Art; Like it says on the tin.
Fluff; The last thing it’s victims often hear is the loud screech that freezes the blood and freezes the mind.
Power; None.
Unit; 350 x1.
Raiting; Rare.
Speed; 2.5 hours flying.
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So Orc encyclopedia entry next or storyline? Choices, choices…
Haven’t seen a lot of other writers on here, come on gang 
Orcish Swords
Gryphon’s Crown was gearing for war and for the first time in centuries it was not against the Blight but once more against a mortal foe. By decree of the king, Mother Mercy and her crusade of misguided zealots were considered outlaws and deserved death. Likewise the Holy church excommunicated Mother Mercy and any and all members of the Children of Light domestic and abroad. They fell upon the sacred texts in which stated no child of god may harm another, a text often forgotten in previous generations when a king wished to expand his borders.
Harold Barnsworth was the first lord who opposed Mother Mercy’s madness and was the rallying banner where all other lords and enterprising sellsword jumped on the bandwagon for.
“If King Halmadir refuses to defend himself from his own kin, it falls to us to do so!” Harold spoke before the people of Gryphon’s Crown." We will bring Mother Mercy to justice and make her pay for all the crimes she committed!"
Harold, who at first hated the idea of going back home to Gryphon’s Crown and be married off so the game of thrones could be played, now relished his newfound power and had already found a betrothed which strengthened his position in the court and his armed forces. Lady Luna, a beautiful devout maid, was like most nobility distantly related to both the royal line and dwarven nobility. With their betrothal came a full regiment of knights, eager to spill heretic blood.
Lord Harold of House Barnsworth was chosen to lead the assembled army, a mix of human, dwarven, orc and elven forces. The elves present were not of King Halmadir’s lands but rather those of the island of Oasis who wanted to adventure outside of their native forests and accompanied Lord Harold’s Troll friend Aziboo along with the orc slave warriors he purchased with Gryphon Crown gold. This was of course kept hush hush from the general public as slavery was still considered illegal by Alundrian law.
When word came Mother Mercy had besieged one of King Halmadir’ castles, the army set forth immediately. Intended to crush this rebellion once and for all. The wedding to Lady Luna was postponed as the very public portrayal of the wedded pair where Lady Luna gave her handkerchief to her beloved and a chaste kiss on the cheek as the armoured Lord Barnsworth marched to do God’s bidding and bring his judgement to the heretics.
Greta Dainson, niece to Mountain King Freya II and a proud Mountain dwarf, oversaw the first battle against the Children of Light. It was not a battle as much as it was a slaughter.
The Children of Light were large enough to be considered a army and a few actually were veteran soldiers or elven archers who had fought against the Second Blight during the war for Sanctuary. But they could not stop the scales from being almost completely in the Royalists favour.
The Orcish swords, the slave warriors, charged into the unwashed masses of religious zealots. Even during the day of Gorvar the Dragonrider it was known that orcs were twice as strong as a human, being trained from birth to be warriors, forced to survive in the desert planes.
A farmer with a rusted sword and a half rotten shield stood no chance against orcish brute strength and sinew.
However the zealots fought with the same selfless, careless abandon like the orcs did and they had numbers on their side. For every orc fell, five more zealots went with him. But the orcs DID fall all the same. Neither side cared about their lives or wounds.
Greta folded her arms as the battle transpired below. Suddenly she heard a noise and a hand went to her hatchet.
“Calm, child of the stone.” a gruff female voice said." It’s me.“
The dwarfess grunted and withdrew her hand from the hatchet.” You should be more careful, Frekkia. One day I might be to quick and sever your head from your neck.“
The dwarf female did not turn as the orc shamaness stood beside her.” If that were to happen I would like to ask you a favour."
“Rather you didn’t.” Greta replied.
Frekkia smirked but did so anyway." Burn my body on a pyre so my soul can return to the sun.“
Greta raised her brow and turned to face the orc female.” Why would you want that? There is no Blight here. You aren’t going to be reanimated as a Immortal."
The distant sounds of battle still sounded as the bugle of a human cavalry charged slammed into a line of half-giants and dwarven battlecries mixed with elven war songs in a cacophony only a battlefield could create.
“My people have different customs to yours.” Frekkia explained." We believe that the world was born out of fire and eventually it cooled. But the sun was still fierce like it was today and send dragons to keep the world from becoming to cold and barren. From their scales came my people.“
Greta nodded with understanding.” My people share something similar, we came from the mountains to guard them.“
Frekkia grunted in agreement and continued.” We believe when we die, our souls have to go back to the sun where we belong. But it has to be a good death. Either in battle or doing something that would help orckind. Only then can we be reborn in this world." There was pride in her eyes, Greta noticed." It is better to burn out than to fade away."
“And that is why there are few old orcs.” Greta added with a chuckle. She pointed to the Orcish swords who were covered to head to toe in blood, surrounded by all sides by enemies. It was like seeing a green rock being whittled away by tides of black. Bit per bit a orc fell." Do they share that sentiment?"
“Yes.” Frekkia replied." War is all they have known. War is all a true orc should know.“
Greta frowned.” What of family and kin? What of ale and meat and stories?"
“Oh we also have those.” Frekkia admitted." But slaves need not worry about politics or farming. They can focus on the one thing we were born to do."
Greta looked confused. “Which is?”
The shamaness only gave a small smile and looked back at the battlefield. On the battlefield several fires were lit by archer arrows or magic, the smell of burnt flesh hit Greta’s nostrils.
Despite that she saw the orc shamaness still smile, a wicked grin on her lips.
Bloody greenskins, she thought, one more daft than the next.
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I know, you’re pretty much the last survivor standing from the writers. I myself have too many things coming up to imagine and write a story myself, NaNoRenO being the least of them, so I can’t be of help I’m afraid. I think the only two solutions now are for the developers to mention the Herald scribe reward on BotI main page again, or for the thread to be renamed ‘Gorvar’s Lore & Fiction’
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Hey as long somebody is still reading im happy
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