Warhammer Age of Sigmar - Order Battletome - Seraphon.pdf

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From the maelstrom of a sundered world, the Eight Realms were
born. The formless and the divine exploded into life. Strange, new
worlds appeared in the firmament, each one gilded with spirits,
gods and men. Noblest of the gods was Sigmar. For years beyond
reckoning he illuminated the realms, wreathed in light and majesty
as he carved out his reign. His strength was the power of thunder.
His wisdom was infinite. Mortal and immortal alike kneeled before
his lofty throne. Great empires rose and, for a while, treachery was
banished. Sigmar claimed the land and sky as his own and ruled
over a glorious age of myth.
But cruelty is tenacious. As had been foreseen, the great alliance
of gods and men tore itself apart. Myth and legend crumbled into
Chaos. Darkness flooded the realms. Torture, slavery and fear re-
placed the glory that came before. Sigmar turned his back on the
mortal kingdoms, disgusted by their fate. He fixed his gaze instead
on the remains of the world he had lost long ago, brooding over its
charred core, searching endlessly for a sign of hope. And then, in
the dark heat of his rage, he caught a glimpse of something magnif-
icent. He pictured a weapon born of the heavens. A beacon power-
ful enough to pierce the endless night. An army hewn from every-
thing he had lost. Sigmar set his artisans to work and for long ages
they toiled, striving to harness the power of the stars. As Sigmar’s
great work neared completion, he turned back to the realms and
saw that the dominion of Chaos was almost complete. The hour
for vengeance had come. Finally, with lightning blazing across his
brow, he stepped forth to unleash his creation.
The Age of Sigmar had begun.
THE SERAPHON
For aeons unrecorded, the seraphon have waged a savage war against the forces of Chaos. As the Age of
Sigmar dawns, their armies descend from the heavens to strike a vengeful blow against the Dark Gods
and bring order to the Mortal Realms once more.
Summoned to the battlefield from
high Azyr by the vast intellects of the
Slann Starmasters, nimble skinks,
predatory saurus and hulking kroxigor
materialise from searing coronae of
celestial energy – the very stuff of the
stars themselves.
Long ago, the slann and their seraphon
armies ruled a vast and mighty empire
connected by glimmering temple-
cities. Their sacred duty was to protect
the world from the Chaos Gods, whose
very existence is anathema to the
profoundly rational slann. In that duty
they failed.
Impossibly ancient, only the slann
have survived through force of will
alone. Beings of immense magical
power, they have restored their armies,
remembering them into existence.
Creatures of flesh and blood no more,
the seraphon are wrought of star-magic,
true beings of Azyr.
As Sigmar’s Storm breaks across the
Mortal Realms, the slann heed the call
to arms. Like arrows of light falling
from the heavens, the Starmasters arrive
upon the battlefields of the realms,
summoning their seraphon armies from
distant memory through sheer magical
might. The roars of martial saurus
echo across the battlefield as they tear
apart the enemies of order. Skinks
beyond number illuminate the skies
with blazing projectiles. Ripperdactyls
swarm the enemy, plucking them
screaming from the battlefield.
Monstrous Bastiladons lay waste to
entire armies. Then, as swiftly as they
arrived, the seraphon vanish once more
into the stars. Legends are born in
the wake of their attacks, but the true
purpose of these mysterious, reptilian
warriors is known only to the slann.

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