Whether a Cryxian ritual unleashed or some horrific new form of Druidic Blood Magic gone awry, no one seemed to know where the curse had come from. It had first appeared during a catastrophic battle on the outskirts of Llael, with Cygnaran, Khadoran, and Mercenary forces engaged in a massive struggle. Soldiers’ eyes turned red and their bloodlust became insatiable. Resistant to both Morrowan dispelling, Menite purification rituals, and Koldun machinations, the spreading curse quickly ended once Warjacks started going rogue and ignoring the telepathic commands of their Warcasters.
On battlefields across the Iron Kingdoms, the curse struck, claimed a toll, and forced conflicts to a standstill. The civilian populations learned to stay far, far away from battlefields, as the curse struck a trandom among those who dared venture into the death ground to loot and pillage. No brand of restorative magic seemed to touch it. Warjacks stricken with the Curse required complete teardowns and rebuilds before being safe to interact with again, and the already bloodthirsty Warbeasts seemed to go rabid under its influence. The curses’ curious habit of striking only those in conflict earned it the moniker of “battle bane”.
As clashes between armies grew more and more rare, supplies dwindled. A standing army is a dying army, and soldiers go through food and supplies at a prodigious rate. An abandoned Cygnaran stockpile of food and supplies, recently discovered by scouting parties from multiple armies, is one of the few lures that would force a skirmish. As the sun blazes high in the azure blue sky, two mighty Warcasters lead forces to capture the valuable cargo, desperately hoping to secure the cache before the Bane descends on their army.
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