The wind whispers secrets through the gnarled trees, their branches clawing at a sky laden with doom. The air itself is choked with the iron-tinged scent of sacrifice. Once, this sanctuary was known for its peace. Now, it is a bleak vista where the gloom dance with annihilation. Here, in the heart of this fall, horror reigns supreme. Omens of d

The shadowed halls reek in the scent of incense or decay. Flickering flames illuminate glyphs etched across the damp walls, their twisted designs pulsing by an unseen energy. A circle of robed figures chant in a tongue forgotten, those voices rasping. The air crackles under anticipation. At this hour, the ritual begins. A goat, bound and gagged, b

Upon the ravaged plains of world, where twisted metal stretches to eternity, a symphony of chaos unfurls. The Slaughtered Few marches, a tide of unyielding steel. Each step thunders with the rhythm of butchery, a macabre rite to their cruelmaster. {Theirstandards flap like the wings of carrion birds, each bearing the {grimmark of a blade. {Their h