The depraved passions of the Devout need more than mortal minds to keep them in check. Every day the Dark Prophets drag yet more fearsome creatures from the infernal world of the Dusk Realm and to harness their violent instincts, the Prophets appoint the Nameless as the lieutenants of their armies. Chosen from the elite ranks of the Blood Knights, the Nameless would be pitiful, were they not so powerful. Stripped of everything from their former lives, the Nameless have been warped and made strong by the power of the Dark One. Even their name has been cast into the void and only the unbearable pain that made them turn to the Darkness remains. Like a constant, burning curse, this memory of pain, of betrayal, of loss, drives them forward and makes of their heat a cold and hateful stone. They show no mercy, despise weakness and refuse to accept failure, the perfect servant for a master bent on death.
The Nameless ride terrible steeds, powerful, two-legged creatures, with vicious talons, leathery skin and many rows of teeth. Along the broad battle-lines of war a small force, cunningly employed, can be just as devastating as a direct assault with a large army. Rather than let their creatures roam the world, killing aimlessly, the Dark Prophets have begun to use their Nameless commanders in a new way. No longer mounted, they walk the blood-soaked earth like any other, but by way of compensation they are given the power of the Warped Lord, albeit a somewhat limited ability. Unable to summon demons to the field of battle, they can still call forth a deadly Vortex, or take possession of a loyal knight’s soul, and turn him, unwillingly, against his brothers in arms.
Although rare among the Dark One’s army they are beginning to earn a sinister reputation as more and more of the opposing race’s outposts fall to well planned surprise attacks. The Dark Lord did not name his new servants, for what is in a name? It was the knights of the Firstborn who christened this new enemy that attacks from the shadows without warning and melts back into the shadows without a trace. Sly commanders, dangerous adversaries; they call them Stalkers.
Now every Captain of a border town or watchtower, dreads the word from scout or keeper of the watch, "Devout, my Lord, and a Stalker leads them!" It is no pleasant thing to learn that you are facing death..
© 1998 Target Games
First version from 09.12.2012. Last version from 15.12.2012.
Article from ChronopiaWorld.com