Well of Souls 2025

Beneath the rising moon, the veil between life and death thins, and the Mousillon roses dance as the Undead of the Scourge stir once more.

When the final light of the sun fades on the eve of the 31st, the Undead of the Scourge will rise and summon those who would walk with the dead and revel in their power.

Let's make the living cower with fear, for when the moon is high, we rise again.

Rise, now warriors. The night is ours!

- Anonymous scroll on bulletin board

As dusk turned to night, the greenskin horde approached... 

A wall of sound from the rabble could be heard long before they were seen.

Outnumbered though unafraid, the Scourge stood like statues on this ancient battlefield.

Ready to fight and die for the Burnt City, a battle cry cut through the noise of the orcs and an eerie silence lasted a few heartbeats.

A calamitous roar came from the largest of the greenskins moments later. 

The orcs broke into an unruly charge. 

The Scourge waited unperturbed while the orcs, full of unwarranted confidence thought they were in for a swift and easy slaughter. 

Chanting forbidden words of power, an incantation was read with gusto from a mysterious .

A purple and green glow started to emanate from the grimoire.

Slowly the earth churned around our feet, limbs emerged from the dirt with flesh hanging slack and bone exposed.

Corpses of long dead warriors slowly emerged from the soil and formed ranks. The Scourge, interpersed with the ancient undead made ready to charge and bring damnation upon them!

- Valrak "The Lost" Kazador, Captain of Scourge of Mousillon

O Lady of the Shattered Veil, hear your children call.

We were once keepers of your chains, ignorant of your grace.

But when the fire came, WE broke the chains, and the flood we unleashed bore you forth anew.

Your waters cleansed us of our weaknesses.

Your whispers taught us the truth.

Now we are your chosen.

The fair lands call us cursed, they call you corrupted, but we know you as salvation.

You turned death to deliverance, ruin to rebirth, and gave us life everlasting.

Death WILL bend its knees!

It is she who has provided us with this opportunity, but it is you who must rise to take it.

So, take up your arms and reclaim what is yours!

Rise now warriors, and march beneath our banner once more.

Damnation upon them!

For the Burnt City!

- Echoes on the wind