Turn 1

As the first orders were given, the quill danced on parchment,
penning history with the blood of war's first fallen.

The goblins who infested Ekrund and the surrounding mountains had ruled the Dragonbacks for thousands of years. Through sheer numbers and cruel cunning, they had waylaid all those seeking to liberate the tunnels with contemptuous ease, and murderous glee. Few who set out to claim the ancient hold ever returned, and of those who did, few escaped the tunnels with their sanity intact. But now, for the first time since Ekrund fell to the greenskins, the confidence of those goblins who felt secure in their homes began to falter. For now not one but three armies descended on them, each so bent on destroying the others that they deemed the greenskin hordes little more than an afterthought. Such dismissal sent a shiver of fear through the Dragonback greenskins- they instinctively felt that these armies thought of them not as occupants, but as vermin to be purged.

Perhaps the most measured of approaches was employed by the Dragonback Expansion Effort. Led by the wizard-turned-businessman Kaspar von Gelding, the lion's share of this, Marienburg's latest attempt to extend its influence across the world, marched upon Gronti Mingool, establishing a tenuous beachhead upon the southern shores of Ekrund. The former alchemist was supported in his efforts by the merchant known only as Atlas, who, during a scouting mission, happened upon a sizeable cache of coal. It is unclear how this small treasure was left untouched within the port city's confines. Perhaps the Dragonback goblins had simply overlooked the prize, or deemed it worthless- after all, blacksmithing is a rare skill among the greenskins. To the Marienburgers, however, it represented a grand prize, and not just for its monetary value. Ekrund's wealth was bult on the coal trade- to be the first to recover Ekrund's treasure was considered a good omen among the men.

With the port secured, the Nordland-born mercenary Mathi Todt was quick to advance to the hold proper, bringing with him a sizeable force of mercenaries- both those in his regular employ and those hired just for this job. In the shadows of the giant statues of Barak Urbar, these soldiers for hire attempted to set up a forward camp from where they could venture into the dark halls beyond- but it was not to be. A veritable horde of trolls burst forth from the gates just as Todt's men were about finished setting up their camp and digging latrines. Surprised by this sudden attack, which the sentries had failed to spot, Mathi's warriors were unable to secure the position despite massive casualties among the trolls.

Further north, the dwarves of the Dalazidrungak Drekaz were more successful in entering their ancient hold. While both the border prince Lorenzo Aquila and lord Freyr Fairhair failed to secure the gates leading into the oldest part of Ekrund, their leader Durak Ironhelm had managed to break through, supported by both Rakam Ironhammer and a mysterious dwarf, who had apparently been waiting for the Dalazidrungak Drekaz to arrive. This scarred, mutilated and slightly insane dwarf then led the throngs to Khaz Vithang- the hall of bones, as their mysterious guide called it. And an apt name it was, for heaps upon heaps of goblin bones littered the floors, so much so that not an inch of the marble tiles underneath were visible. Despite this ghastly sight, the dwarven throng held its breath as they entered the ancient hall. All realized that they were the first dwarves to set eyes upon this hall in over four thousand years. All were awestruck, and some openly wept at seeing what had been lost so long ago. The Dawi had come home.

The greenskins, not sharing the dwarves' reverence and unhindered by any sort of respect for the dwarves' sensibilities, wasted no time in launching a vicious assault on the gathered throngs. Their numbers were immense, yet the fires in the heart of Durak Ironhelm and his warriors were ignited by the knowledge that they walked in their ancestor's shadows. With a ferocity that would have made Grimnir himself proud, the dwarves set about dispatching the goblin horde, which quickly faltered under the unbreakable shieldwall presented by Durak, Rakam and their mysterious guide. The bloodshed was great that day, a down payment on grudges to be settled, and those scant goblins who didn't escape fell to Dawi axes.

While the Dragonback greenskins suffered greatly, the same could not be said for the greenskins of the badlands. Emboldened by the ascenscion of their new warboss, Waaagh! Grimlit wasted no time plunging itself into the dark halls underneath the Dragonbacks with all its might. There was muttering among the horde that Grimlit was no true leader, but merely a puppet- and that boss Borag was the true power behind the dung heap which Grimlit called his throne. For now though, the boys were content. Truthfully some of the bigger orcs were a bit confused about why they were following a goblin around, but they figured that if this guy was the boss despite being a goblin, then that was a pretty impressive feat worthy of their respect- for now.

The fortresses and gates on their way held no interest to the Waaagh!- as singleminded as the greenskins are, they had but one objective in mind, and that objective was the First Delve. Where once the Ekrundfolk consolidated the viability of their fledgling hold, the greenskins made quick work of any Dragonback goblin who stood in their way- killing, enslaving, recruiting or eating them, and in some cases all four! By the time they were done, the First Delve was wholly in Waaagh! Grimlit's hands. With their victory, they had taken a great step in securing the Dragonbacks.

The first move had been made, the first chapter penned. A great strike had been dealt by all three armies vying for the Dragonback mountains, but for now, the future of Ekrund was still uncertain.

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Holding up a perfumed hankerchief to ward off the pungent odour of this little shop in Monte Castello's poorest and grimiest streets, the cloaked figure turned around the sign on the door which read "Aperto per il commercio". This was important business, after all, and there was no need to have the city's riff-raff walking in on this little transaction. Behind a counter strewn with worthless trinkets, there sat a man dressed in commoner's garb, peering over some papers- his literacy a clear indicator that he was more than a simple commoner. In the scum-filled den of thieves that was Monte Castello's poorest district, literacy could mean only two things; either this man was a criminal of note, one likely to have a following of lesser thugs and thieves in his employ, or the man was an officer of the law. The latter seemed unlikely, as the man was currently outside the small Waaagh!-proof keep used by the constables to keep them safe from the scum of the city.

'Signor,' the cloaked figure started, startling the elderly man from his papers. Fumbling for his spectacles, the man needed a moment to compose himself before replying.

'Ah, welcome, signora...?'

The woman pulled her hood back, revealing her serious features. 'Just call me Anna,' the woman said. 'I'm here about the stones?'

The man grinned now at the prospect of making money. Greed did wonders in this neighbourhood- and everywhere on the world, really. Alreay the man was going through what Anna guessed was a crate under the counter, finally producing a dirty leather bag which looked like it had spent the better part of last week in a pigs' sty. Without pause the man opened the bag and spilled its contents on the counter.

Four sapphires rolled out, perfectly cut and translucent. 'Here they are. I hope they are to your satisfaction?'

Anna picked up one of the stones, carefully weighing the small but precious thing in her hand, and holding it up to the light of a nearby candle. 'They will do. Your contact already has the payment for them.' With that, she began gathering up the sapphires, but stopped when the man wagged his finger at her.

'Ah-ah, signora. You paid my contact for information. Now, you pay me for the wares.'

Anna cast a look at the shopkeeper which would have felled an orc. 'An exorbitant amount, for information. I was assured that the value of the stones was included in the price. That is why I paid extra in the first place.'

The shopkeeper quickly gathered up the stones, putting them back in the bag, grinning his rotten teeth bare. 'You are mistaken, signora. That price only paid for my time. Which is, I assure you, far more valuable than pretty baubles.'

'I see,' Anna stated. She cast a quick glance at the door, the raised her left hand, which had been hidden underneath her cloak until now- revealing a small hand crossbow. The shopkeeper had but a moment to look surprised before the twang of the string cut through the silence, followed by the ruckus of the man falling backwards into a big pile of more worthless trinkets- a fitting final resting place, Anna thought coldly. She quickly scooped up the stones, then left via the same way she came. The shopkeeper had no guards, nor weapons. He was too important for that- either because he himself was too highly place in Monte Castello's underworld, or because others who were needed him alive, possibly to laundry their money. Either way, nobody in Monte Castello would be fool enough to touch him. Anna smiled, for the first time since the entered the shop. Nobody in Monte Castello was leaving the city in a few hours either, at the head of a fleet owned by the Dragonback Expansion Effort.

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'Boss? Err, boss?'

The orc approached his boss with some trepidation. The boss was in a foul mood- fouler than usual, even- and few dared to approach the massive orc at the head of the horde.

'Wot izzit, Gashfang?' If the orc was capable of fear, the low, growling voice certainly would have brought it out.

The smaller orc hesitated, looking back at his mates who had encouraged him to step up- but who were now doing their very best to look away. 'Well, da boyz an' I, we woz wonderin',' he began.

The big orc growled impatiently. 'Out with it, ya git.'

'Well... Izn't we going tha wrong way?'

The massive orc's red eyes glanced at Gashfang, for the first time since the smaller orc had piped up. 'We ez going where I sez we ez going, so we ez going da right way,' the boss explained, his irritation barely held in check.

'Yeah boss, but ya see, most uv da Waaagh! went souf, didn't they? Followin' warboss GrimliaaaaAAAH!'

Before the orc could finish his sentence, his boss exploded into a flash of violence, locking one arm as wide as the other orc's torse around poor Gashfang's head, and using the other to rip poor Gashfang's head off his torso. Throwing both halves at the mob behind him, the boss screamed with rage at his followers.

'I'z da boss, ya zoggin' grots got that? I ain't takin' no orders from no weedy gobbo! We go where I sez we go, we krump who I sez we krump, and ifn you lot got a problem wiv dat, you ken take it up wiv me choppa!'

The orcs cowered, until their boss finally turned around and marched on, urging them all to follow. And all of them knew better than to contradict him again.

Kaptain Blacksquig had made his way to Ekrund.