*The chaotic vortex of swirling arcane energy suddenly began to fade and the physical plane materialized around him as he stepped through the arch of realm gate. He fought back a wave of nausea, fumbling with the buckles of his great horned helm. He raised the helm off his head, the face plate forged in the image of a snarling demon. A wave of hot air and sulphur fumes assaulted him. Eyes stinging he wearily surveyed his surroundings. The landscape around him was a blasted hellscape of fire and ash. The realm gate set atop a plateau of black obsidian rock. Below him a great plain stretched out for leagues. Smoke and flames drifted up from cracked earth streaked with flows of fiery molten rock to a sky the color of blood. “The Plain of Zhar” he said in awe. Over the the braided mass of his raven beard, Sargon Blackhelm, First Castellan of the Blackshard Brotherhood smiled. *
The mercenaries of the Blackshard Brotherhood have returned to the Old World. Most of my old FW army is assembled and painted but I have a few additions in mind. For the month of March I will finish printing and will assemble, paint and base two detachments of blunderbuss wielding infernal guard.
