Albion History

In a time long before Man first discovered the secret of fire, millennia before the first Elf learned the art of the bow, a race known only as the Old Ones forged the world. Legends tell of how they manipulated the ebb and flow of magic to mould the land to their will, and of how they sowed the seeds that would form into the vast forests that cover the world. The races of Elves, Dwarfs and Men were like children to them, whom they nurtured and taught. It is said that even the great Dragons were mere playthings to these godlike beings.

In time, the Old Ones chose the island of Albion as one of the locations to build their homes. Little is known of their settlements for few have ever visited Albion, let alone returned from this mysterious place. They forged an island paradise where the sun shone bright and the crops flourished. Gathering together the wisest and bravest individuals of each race, they taught them magic and other skills. They demonstrated the secret of forging runes to the Dwarfs and to the Elves they taught the mastery of spellcasting.

The Old Ones belived that the race they called Man was too primitive to learn, but were quickly surprised at the speed Mankind adapted to his surroundings. They were so impressed that they chose to teach a select few of the cave dwelling tribesmen some of their secrets. Those they taught went by the name of Truthsayers for it was their duty to teach the other tribesmen the true path to enlightenment. They instructed their students to spread across the world and populate the continents, whilst all the time the Old Ones kept a watchful eye over their subjects. They in turn were worshipped as gods and temples were erected in their honour. The race of Man impressed the Old Ones the most for he seemed to be able to adapt to any climate and small tribes quickly flourished in every corner of the world.

Carvings upon the Slann pyramid temples found deep within the jungles of Lustria and the earliest songs of the High Elf bards tell of a great disaster that befell the noble Old Ones. A magical gateway, their portal to other distant worlds, collapsed, and they were forced to flee the fledgling world that they had created lest they become stranded. Unable to help those races they had brought into the world, the Old Ones had little choice but to leave them to fend for themselves. Their parting gift was to create a race of giant warriors to protect the people of Albion.

The collapse of the gateway tore a great hole in the fabric of the heavens allowing the forces of Chaos to pour into the world. As the Chaos mists enveloped the land, hordes of gibbering Daemons and all manner of foul beasts descended from the north in a bloody rampage. Many of the wise Slann, the highest servants of the Old Ones were the first to fall. A brave race, they tried to fight off the first wave of attackers, but were too few and too weak. They fled into hiding within the dense jungles of Lustria. Next the Chaos hordes turned their attentions to the High Elves, but the Old Ones had taught their children well. The High Elves constructed a vortex at the centre of the heart of Ulthuan to contain and drive back the dark mists. The mages of the Elves created this vortex by building a series of stone circles to absorb and diffuse the Chaos energy. In their arrogance the High Elves thought that they alone were the saviours of the world, but it was not so.

By concentrating their attack on Ulthuan and leaving the isle of Albion, the Chaos hordes made a fatal flaw in their plan of conquest. The Truthsayers, or Druids as they were called by the people of Albion, gathered together the Giants and bade them also to construct a series of stone circles. With such immense strength at their disposal, the Truthsayers soon had a great many of these circles whose mystical properties would allow them to channel their spells and bind the forces of Chaos to the north.

In many ways their mastery of this form of magic was better than that of the Elves. Not only were they able to contain the Chaos mists but they were also able to use the stones to weave their own veil of fog around their island, protecting what they called the Ogham stones from danger. The Elves would certainly have been overrun had the Druids of Albion not stemmed the flow. But the mist that shrouded the isle also blocked out the sun. Something in the nature of the stone circles attracted rain and storms, and over a short period of time the fertile land of Albion became a boggy region where few crops grew.

In absorbing much of the Chaos energy, the soil of Albion itself became tainted and once fertile fields quickly changed into quagmires where a man could sink without trace. The thick woods and forests became wild places where hawthorn and poisonous plants choked the life from the trees. Many feared to enter these once beautiful glades and many of those who did were never seen again. Even the creatures of Albion were not able to escape the mutating effects of Chaos and after only a short period of time the tribesfolk told tales of terrible monsters lurking in the darkest reaches, emerging at night to prey upon the unwary.

It was a price the Truthsayers had little choice but to pay. If the dark forces of Chaos were to be contained then Albion had to remain hidden. The Truthsayers gave the task of guarding these stone circles to the Giants who had constructed them. Said to have been formed from the earth itself, these Giants were highly intelligent beings and knew the importance of their vigilance. For a while stability was created. The High Elves flourished as a race, learning much of the world through their contact with other more primitive races such as the Dwarfs and Man.

The Truthsayers of Albion, on the other hand, were isolated. They preferred the safety of their remote isle to the danger of the outside world and became introverted and reclusive. The Giants also suffered from their imposed isolation. Centuries of inbreeding dulled their minds. When the danger of Chaos vanished they became bored and restless and resorted to mindless displays of strength in order to pass away the time. The tribes of Men on the island also suffered a similar fate. With the disappearance of the Old Ones and a distinct lack of contact with the outside world they degenerated into a race of warring tribesmen and primitive cave dwellers.

During all this time the Truthsayers continued to teach a chosen few of each successive generation their secret magic, waiting for the day when their masters would return. Each Truthsayer would be taught in minute detail the ritual ceremonies that were needed to maintain the mists that enveloped the island. They would each learn of the nature of the stones and the offerings that must be made so that the magical power of these circles never waned. Over time, though, the ancient lores were slowly forgotten and, although the Truthsayers still practiced their art, it was but a shadow compared to the powers that used to be at their command. Some practices still survived though, and on the night of each full moon the Truthsayers would gather and perform ceremonies in order that the mystical energies stayed bound to the stones.

So it came to be that Albion remained a mysterious island. Many tales tell of raiding ships that have vanished into the mists never to be seen again. Occasionally the gossip in a tavern will turn to the tale of a friend of a friend who was shipwrecked on the isle and returned to tell stories of creatures that were half horse, half man or of terrible one-eyed beasts that stalked the mists. Some even claimed to return with riches beyond a man's wildest dreams.

No truth to these stories has ever been proven, and the rumours of Albion remain little more than fantastic tales told by drunks to any who would listen. But now a new legend has spread across the land. Sailors talk of an island which has suddenly appeared to the far north. Huge white cliffs loom out from the sea but the sailors have also spied beaches where a small boat may possibly make a landing. It would seem that the mists have parted and the land lies open to explore. Every race across the Warhammer world is gathering its armies to seek the treasures of Albion and claim the island as their own.

Even more disturbing are the rumours of dark strangers who have been traversing the length and breadth of the world. They talk of a Dark Master, one who will lead the strong to conquer the weak. Of these Dark Emissaries, as they have become named, little is known. People talk of sinister magics at work and where they walk death follows. Of the Dark Master nothing is known, save for the fact that he has called his followers to join him at Albion. Only time will tell of the secrets that will undoubtedly be revealed.