At the edge of the Furyoth Dell there is an ancient stone that has remained at the surface even when the area was engulfed by the rivers and tectonic plates of Rondhol. This stone was worshipped when the ancient civilization that dwelled here fell, legends say, and warrior rites have been performed around it for centuries. Sigils of Gorkamorka and Sigmar are daubed across its surface. Huge bonfires are lit in ancient fire pits, blackened with the ash of generations of gatherings, smoke rising indicating that the site is being used once more. After the large upheaval that saw the Furyoth Dell finally surface its ruins once again several years ago, the place has finally attracted the newest crop of pilgrims: scattered tribes of ogors who have brought with them a veritable feast worth of supplies. They wish to see great warriors and fighting skill, and are selling their wares and delicacies to provide a kick-start of a new series of duels. They will, however, not tolerate anyone passing through without delighting them with a scrap first.
Middle of the road
‘Sigrid stood at the gates to the inner city, clutching her gun tightly as the people gathered around before the regiment. They all looked rabid and malnourished as they clutched makeshift weapons. They yelled things and threw objects at the gates. The crowd grew louder and larger, and they threw more stones and loose pipes. Until a gunshot sounded, and a man in front of her fell. The crowd roared, and she was swept up in a flood of bodies.’
