The Devil, in the prosecution, and the execution of his wrath upon them, often gets a Liberty to make a Descent upon the Children of Men.
-On Witchcraft: Being the Wonders of the Invisible World, by Cotton Mather
What sins have I committed to deserve such wretched sorrow? Mine eyes, burning with tears, beheld my beloved husband and twin sons cast into the hissing abyss below. They returned days later. Their eyes unfocused, their limbs limp, their heads scarred. They recognized me never and not at all - they respond not even to the familiar tones of my voice. Their utterances are not gone, however, they still speak when the overseers address them. But now, they speaketh only a single phrase or verse. It is etched into my memory, even as I dwindle within the intestinal walls of this nightmare palace. I hear it in my dreams. I pray to every god I know - the Eagle God and the Old Gods whose names are forbidden. I pray that I will forget; but, I know in the depths of my heart, that I never will. That phrase will echo with me, will define me until the end of my days.
Hark! They come for me! Please, I beg of thee - no! And yet - and yet! At last I will be together with my family. Together with them in a fashion. Forgive my weakness, O Eagle God. Take me - take me, my master! Render me unto the Wizard! I am prepared to join my family.
The Wizard is lord! I obey!
-Hannah Greensleeves, Peasant Laborer
In nightmares, men called the Old City by its true name: Mordheim. It is ascendant. A palace made of brass and pillars of choleric flame. The barriers keep the mortals out - yet they beg and plead at its black gates nonetheless.
Something is wrong. The Old City should have fallen. The prophets of the Eagle God - Lord of the Sky - proclaimed it. Yet an invisible hand twisted fate - and not, the Old Gods have their way. An unseen puppeteer lurks behind it all, yet even the greatest of daemons can glimpse Him but dimly.
In the wreckage of time, there comes that which men call the Wizard. Descending upon a falling star, he has made the Starlight Forest his own. His servants are manifold and terrible. Those who he does not bend to his will, he destroys. The power of the Eagle-God is behind him, yet it is twisted and awful