Beneath the great tree providing a final shelter from the rain, the group draws their steel. The Ulrican fanatics charge with raised axes. Paolino, by instinct, slides under the cart, crossbow in hand. He tries to shout a warning, but no sound leaves his mouth: the entire area has plunged into an absolute and unnatural... Continue Reading →

The final days of a scorching summer bring an unexpected encounter: in a crowded Altdorf tavern, where the steam from hot meals mingles with the acrid smoke of pipes, the group is approached by two figures: Father Luthor Schwartzhelm, an elderly monk with a face etched by a thousand wrinkles, and his young assistant, Brother... Continue Reading →

" After the terrifying ordeals in the county of Wittgendorf and the unspeakable horror of Castle Wittgenstein, you decide to grant yourselves a truce to clear your heads. The Von Wittgenstein bloodline has been annihilated, but the warpstone has been lost in the bowels of the earth; the witch Etelka Herzen has fallen, and Dwarven... Continue Reading →

Dawn rises grey and freezing over the ruins of what was once the Wittgenstein domain. The forest, shrouded in a mist that tastes of sulfur and stone dust, seems to hold its breath. Around a guttering fire, the group tries to pull themselves together after a night spent in the open, tormented by nightmares and... Continue Reading →

The Daemonette's lethal grace breaks into a feral leap. With a hiss that tastes of both pleasure and death, the creature lunges at Drumin. Only a reflex honed by centuries of dwarven instinct saves the gold-seeker: the chitinous claw, sharp as a surgical razor, slices through the air a millimeter from his throat, instead shearing... Continue Reading →

The last link to the outside world breaks with a metallic clang. Under Fredrich's orders, the group once again operates the heavy winches, raising the drawbridge behind them. They are now isolated: Castle Wittgenstein has swallowed them, separating them from the Black Arrows and any possible means of escape. From the arrow slits, Fredrich scans... Continue Reading →

Ecco la traduzione in inglese del testo, mantenendo il tono cupo e l'atmosfera "grimdark" tipica dell'ambientazione:The days preceding the departure are charged with an electric tension, almost tangible in the crisp air of the protected forest. The group dedicates every hour to the meticulous preparation of their equipment: blades are sharpened into razors, armor is... Continue Reading →

After a swift look of understanding that spoke louder than a thousand words, Wolfgang drew his sword with a lethal hiss, followed closely by the others. The guards wasted no time either: with a metallic snap, they unsheathed their heavy blades, almost eager to finally get their hands dirty. A furious melee exploded inside Herbert’s... Continue Reading →

Having regained their strength in Unterbaum, the group stands at a crossroads of destiny. Three potential paths lie before them: stay on the trail of the Witch Hunter to save Martha, head north to Middenheim to strike at the inner circle of the Tzeentch cult, or finish the game in the Reikland by heading to... Continue Reading →