Day 3 of 2024. It's all about the upcoming Age of Sigmar Silver Hills campaign at the Dumfries Gamers club.

We're starting our next AoS narrative campaign this month. It's called Silver Hills and it's a Path to Glory campaign which will be following the Dawnbreaker Crusade narrative as set out by Games Workshop.

It's the second narrative campaign that I've been involved with running at the club, following on from The Fens of Woe campaign that we ran last year for about 8 months.

Going the PtG route, means we'll be a little more hands-off this time in curating the narrative, so there's more focus for me on evolving the story and getting into the narrative elements as opposed to gameplay and rules.

I'm getting hyped up for the start of the campaign and, as per instruction, have written a bit of a blurb for my spiritual leader for the campaign, The Lady Petra Hirkeit.

She awoke in a crypt. Laid out on cold rock, her arms and legs ached, so did her neck. Stiff from the long slumber.

The room was enclosed, a door barred shut and a heavy bookcase pulled over across it. A priest of some kind lay dead against the bookcase, his life blood long stopped. A brazier burned in the corner, casting light upon a work table full of metal implements, bloodied and discarded after use. A sticky red liquid sealed in a glass jar, sitting off to the side.

The room was stale, it'd been days since the door was sealed by the smell of the air, and the sanguine delights on the bench. After draining the jar of the life blood she pulled the door open, the bookcase and accompanying body easily moved in its wake.

She saw there were bodies strewn around the crypt as she swept through it. All dead. Some hacked to pieces, others tied down and burned alive. Familiar sights, Sigmar's most devout had been here.

Emerging from the crypt into the pale moonlight, she caught a familiar scent in the air. Familiar, but somehow also different. She couldn't place it. It all smelt so... fresh, new... colourful.

Surveying her surroundings she noticed a barrow on the hill. Some King or Duke was interned here. His most prized warriors laid to rest alongside him, to slumber for all eternity.

There was no signs of Morrda here. His taint wasn't evident in the graves or in the iconography upon them. Free from his influence, his 'protection', she spat the words as she thought them.

Climbing to the barrow she read the name of the interned noble, MOLTKE, a notable name! A suitable general.

She tensed her senses, felt the rush of the gift flow through her. Soulblight they'd called it. It was no blight, a gift, the power over life and death.

She looked on as The Wight King Moltke emerged from his barrow, earth and stone erupting as he emerged. His retinue of elite warriors began clawing their way from the roiling earth to join him. A guardian force in this graveyard.

Farther up the hill, Skeletal horses burst into unlife, shaking themselves from the tundra. A cortège of black clad riders climbing from the very same graves, mounting the polished bone steeds. Settled back into the saddles that bore them to war many hundreds of years prior, the Knights ranked up and spurred their mounts to join the ranks of the gathering undead.

Around the graveyard soil turned and graves burst open as the dead stirred, back to once again walk in the Mortal Realms. A shambling horde gathered, drawn to the presence of she who summoned them back from Shyish.

She swept towards the gates of the cemetery, saw the name, 'Hirkeit Mausoleum & Cemetery', at least now she knew where she was. The ornate cast iron dragon iconography of the gates put her in mind of the stories of old, of some warrior King whose name was now lost to history. Of how he conquered kingdoms atop his mighty Dragon Kaukas. How he'd been laid to rest in a barrow alongside his dragon, so large and deep that it looked like part of the landscape.

The earth below the mausoleum cracked and ruptured, a noisome scream emerging from the toppling crypt as boney wings broke through the surface of the ground.

The Lady Petra Hirkeit passed through the gates of the cemetery, leading her undead host towards her ancestral home.

I'm going full on and have been making Age of Sigmar style warscroll cards for my uniquely named units, adding a bit of flavourful text, adding named weapons and including any spells / special rules for the unit in the PtG campaign.

The cards don't 100% match the GW produced warscroll cards, but they're close enough and will add a bit of flair to my SBGL army when on the table.