he Empire of man. At once both extolling the greatest values of the human spirit whilst laying open the depths of the human soul. Attacked from without on all sides, the human spirit embodied in the Empire endures in the face of the sternest opposition, yet the Empire is attacked from within by the intrigues and plots that seduce the weak willed and power hungry.

And so it came to pass, by way of plot and intrigue, that the Count of Hochland, but two generations after Magnus the Pious had driven the chaos warbands from the lands of the Empire, found himself in need of political capital. Chaos warbands continued to maraud through Kislev and raise Empire villages and it was with a proposed solution to this problem that Hochland aimed to win his Emperor’s favour.

A chief Advisor, LeMonte, and a fearsome warrior priest of Sigmar, Gustav, also known as the Ironhand, proposed for Hochland to provide the investment to invest a holy order of knights to inspire the people of the Kislev border. This knightly order would both provide religious succour to those in need, and act as a defence force when the beasts and barbarians of chaos threatened the land. And so it was that Hochland did indeed provide funding for LeMonte and the Ironhand, and they set off with some of the Ironhand’s most fervent acolytes to establish a base camp and temple to Sigmar, right on the Kislev border. What the Emperor made of this act is unrecorded, but within a few years the Order of the Knights Templar, as it was known, lost the funding of Hochland as the count turned to other pursuits, and so the Order was left to fend for itself, never fulfilling its intended role nor rising to prominence in the way of other knightly orders of the land.

Ten years or so before the dawn of the Age of Reckoning, the Order, presided over by a Grand-Knight still bearing the moniker “Ironhand” in remembrance of the founders and consisting of 50 or so men at arms, still eked out an existence on the Kislev border. Acting as a local militia to the small settlements in the area, they also farmed and raised cattle, always maintaining their templar to Sigmar. The Ironhand though, wanted more. He was impetuous and cunning with a righteous zeal and determination to wipe the threat of chaos from the land. He drilled and trained his troops hard, and drove them into skirmish battles whipped up in a religious frenzy. He employed passing wizards and mercenaries to supplement his troops and maintained an able body of cavalry to chase down roaming beastmen. Around this time whispers began to reach his ears of an artefact of Sigmar to the north, a sword said to have been blessed by Sigmar himself. Chief in speeding these whispers was Tanya, a wizardess newly arrived at the camp from the region the sword was said to be found in.

Tanya, it became clear, soon held considerable sway over the Ironhand, and the locals worried that he was too attached to this wandering stranger, and too quick to send his troops to investigate her tales. Eventually, Sigmar started to speak to the Ironhand in his dreams, urging him to take his knights and go in search of the relic Tanya had described, to wield its power in his fight against chaos. Thus, driven by his zeal and desire to find the holy relic, the Ironhand and his closest retainers stepped from their temple and headed north through Kislev towards the frozen wastes. They never returned to the Empire.

With each passing day as they moved north, the Ironhand felt the religious fervour within him grow. Sigmars urgings grow stronger in his dreams and it was not long before his knights too began to feel and hear the call of their god. Tanya pushed them ever on, day by the day the weather deteriorated, strange visions clouded their eyes and the sighting of other men grew ever rarer. Mercifully, interference from beastman and marauder was rare, and the troop was able to make its way north relatively unmolested. And still the zeal grew within the men, though their rations diminished, they did not hunger, and drove themselves further and further on.

Until one day, they came across a darkened cave. Tanya, her eyes ablaze, declared this to be the site of the relic, that the Ironhand had only to cross the threshold of the cave to claim his prize. The Ironhand grinned inanely, the voices in his head now appearing in waking time too, and he took his troop deep into the cave.

At its darkest point, the knights found what they sought. A sword lay on the table, covered in runes. Yet these were runes unlike any had seen before, and one knight, more fervent in his love of Sigmar than the others, recognised these runes as abomination of chaos. As the Ironhand reached out to claim the sword, the knight rushed forward, screaming for him to stop, but the Ironhand silenced the protestations, driving the chaos-sword deep into the heart of the knight and damning both himself and his men. For it had not been Sigmar driving the band on, but Tzeentch, the Lord of Change, whispering in Ironhand’s ear.

Outside the cave, Tanya laughed.

hilst the Fallen Order of the Knights Templar were completing their horrific descent from virtuos knights of Sigmar to play things of Tzeentch, Malekith, Lord of the Dark Elves was busy scheming his ultimate revenge on the High Elf Kingdom of Ulthuan. His scheme involved using the Orcs and Chaos to distract his ancestral foe from their homeland, leaving it ripe for invasion. For his plan to work, Malekith chose the Bloody Sun Boyz.

The Bloody Sun Boyz, led by the giant Orc Grumlok and the Shaman Gazbag, had for a number of years been rampaging through the World’s Edge Mountains. This was no typical Orc Waaaagh though, Gazbag had a purpose and led his Boyz with cunning, whilst Grumlok cracked open the skulls of any who dared oppose the Boyz.

At the same time, a smaller group of Greenskins was making its name in the north of the mountains. At around the time the Templars began their fall, a goblin shaman, Naffgit, had managed to ally himself with a black orc warboss, Gutrip, and attached his goblins to Gutrip’s warband. At first, the Black Orcs of Gutrips Boyz did not take kindly to the swarms of goblins, under the control of Naffgit, that they now found trailing the warband, but it soon became clear, as they plundered dwarf trade routes and human caravans, that the goblins ingenuity coupled with Naffgit’s awesome control of the shamanistic arts made the band far more powerful than they were alone.

And so the goblins were tolerated, though treated as little better than runts by the orcs, and the Boyz thrived under the new relationship. As news of their success began to spread, so more orcs swarmed to the leadership of Naffgit and Gutrip, and the band become a host, the host became a horde until finally, the horde threatened to start a Waaaagh!

It was not to be. During one excursion to the south of their lands, Gutrip’s Boyz came across the marauding Bloody Sun Boyz and clashed with a ferocity unique to the greenskin races. Gutrip, accustomed to other greenskins joining his band or fleeing, was astonished that another host of orcs demanded his fealty. Crashing his boyz into combat with the Bloody Sun Boyz, Gutrip and many of hid horde were slain by the fel powers of the Bloody Suns bestowed on them by Malekith.

Realising defeat was imminent, Naffgit succumbed to the rule of the Bloody Suns, and attached the remains of his warband to Grumlok and Gazbag. Gazbag was impressed with the cunning of his fellow goblin, and realised this was an intellect he could tap. Assigning a Black Orc from his own bodyguard, Thrakka, as notional leader of the Boyz (and insurance in case of trouble), Gazbag sent Naffgit north, to hold the border lands near to the realm of Chaos.

s the Age of Reckoning drew closer, and the Empires of Man, Dwarf and Elf came together in the grand alliance, it became increasingly common for Dark Elf spies and couriers to be seen among the Bloody Sun Boyz. Why Grumlok and Gazbag tolerated the pinkskins was of no concern to the Boyz, the fact they did was enough for the Elf spies to secure passage through the mountains.

One such Dark Elf agent was Prince Lendith, a noble and leader of a small force from Ghrond. Lendith, like the rest of his kin, was cruel and harsh, but even amongst the elfs he was known for the depravity of his habits. His small band of elfs were sent to the north of the World’s Edge Mountains, determined to forge links with the Chaos warband that loomed on the Empire’s frontier.

Lendith hated the greenskins he found himself amongst, but saw the wisdom of the Witch King’s machinations that would allow his kin to reclaim their homeland. Eventually, he found himself among Thrakka’s Boyz, with Naffgit still effective as leader of the host. The Boyz were the northern most outlet of the Bloody Sun Boyz at that time, and Lendith used their camps as bases to roam into the Chaos wastelands, coming back each evening with less elfs than he set out with, but a deeper grin of satisfaction.

For Lendith had found the tool he needed to link the Boyz, the Chaos army and his own kin. The Fallen Order of the Knights Templar, by this time fanatics of Chaos overcome by battlelust and the glamour of Tzeentch, had attached themselves to the burgeoning Chaos Army on the doorstep of the Empire and made their camp a short march from the where the Boyz made their fires. Lendith, unbeknownst to the greenskins, made contact with the Fallen Order, and worked to bring the two groups together, knowing that forging a loose alliance of the bands would allow him maximum flexibility in fulfilling the intrigues of the Witch King.

His chance came in battle. A Kislevite scouting force was spotted winding its way along the plains by the side of the mountains. Without warning, Thrakka’s Boyz launched themselves into the Kislevites, seeking the thrill of battle and plunder. What would have been an even fight was rendered more difficult as the Dark Elfs of Lendith’s band began, unnoticeably, to aid the humans as arrows appeared to miss their marks and hit goblins and knives appeared inexplicably in the backs of rampaging orcs.

It was not long before the Fallen Order, attracted by the sounds of battle, also joined battle. The combined might of the three forces crushed the Kislevites, leaving no survivors. As the greenskins readied themselves for battle against this new band of humans, Lendith called a halt. Summoning the Ironhand, Thrakka and Naffgit to the centre of battle, they announced parley.

hus the elfs of Lendith and the greenskins of the Thrakka and Naffgit came to ally themselves with the Fallen Order of the Knights Templar. Now, two months after the conclave on the night of the Kislevite slaughter, the Order stands proud, its banner now flying above that of elf and greenskin. Whilst each faction has no love of the other, mutual respect and camaraderie has built up and as the Age of Reckoning dawns, the Fallen Order stands ready, alert to the significance of the time, and ready to act in any theatre of war they are needed.