Brainstorming Vampire Counts Backgrounds

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    • Brainstorming Vampire Counts Backgrounds

      Lamian Vampires:


      When speaking of Lamian Vampires,the purity and vanity of their Blood Line can be found just bylooking at them. While StrigoiVampires are bestial in nature and are being of imposing physicalstrength, Lamian Vampires use their enriched beauty to best theirfoes on the battlefield, as well as work their ways into thepolitical parties and hierarchy of the particular realm they callhome. The Lamian's reach is far and wide, reaching from the coldshores of Thrymfjord to the very sands of the Great Desert. Onlyoldest of them can remember where it all began, but even then theyare not conclusive on just where the first Lamian Vampire herselfcame from. Of which there is a always the particular trait of LamianVampires: They are primarily female in nature. Being vain creatures,the oldest of them take a great pride in having 'families' of fairand beautiful women to call their own and to use as their Generals inbattle. The more exotic the beauty, the great their undeadbreast swells with the knowing that they have such a rare jewel towear upon their pride. A Lamian can usually be marked by the greatcrowds of people that form around them, if their unnatural beautywasnt enough.

      This is where they gain their spider weblike political strength, in the pure breadth of variety LamianVampires come in. From raven haired enchantresses to warriors ofscarlet manes, all could bear the marks of a Lamian Vampire.Extremely fast in combat and usually wearing armor made to be morealluring to the eye than deflective of the sword, they whirl and killwith such blinding speed that it is almost like their enemies arestanding still. Even more deadly is the pause they give to even themost veteranof soldiers, as the brief thought of taking the hammer to such beautyis enough to seal their fate. Such pause gives the Vampire thefraction of a second needed to rip the life from their enemies, andcontinue their seductive dance of destruction. The lack of armor isusually due to their ability to enchant male and even female mindswith their beauty, but an armored Lamian is truly a sight to behold.Armored Lamians usually borrow the armor from their home land,whether it is chainmail or studded leather, and are virtuallyunstoppable on the battlefield. Those lucky enough to survive a oneon one duel with a Lamian Vampire usually tell of how they could feelthe raw power emanate from their foe, compelling them to step forwardand lock blades. Those who survive however are not free of theirdoom, as it is merely a test to see if they are worth feeding upon. Alamians haughtiness never ends, and they only feed on those they feelare truly worthy.

      Do to this unending and ever-livingpride, Lamian Vampires will have a score of people of whom they feedupon, lavishing them as if they were spoiled pets of which theyadore. These thralls also act as spies, and have even encompassedSonnstahl Champions and Knights of honorable Equitaine. With thesetools it is without a doubt how the Lamian Vampires have made theirmark on the society and wormed their way into minor positions ofpower. To be a castle or village under the rule of a Lamian Vampire,it is not as bad as many would think. Some villages find betterlevels of living than before, as Lamians being marked byself-admiration, want the prettiest and most well kept vassals thatanyone could see. As with most things they own, everything that bearstheir mark or name is in such a self reflection of them, and anythingthat comes in the way of besmirching their pride will be removed likea cancerous wart. To this degree, disappearances are frequent inareas controlled by Lamian's, with whole families running the risk ofbeing swept away and never seen, or heard from again.

      Whena Lamian generalis on the march, they are almost always joined by a BarrowKing, a whole other realm of necromantic creature that the worldhad seen. These skeletal beings are he remnants of ancient kings orheroes of the past, their soul being bound to their old remains toretain their martial abilities. Even more bizarre is how a barrowking is rarely seen in old or rusty armor, usually kitted out inthe best that money can buy. Some have made the mistake of believinga vampire was besting them in combat, only for a strike to the helmetto reveal a skeletal head underneath, its eyes glowing the withinfernal blue light of the soul trapped within . The shock of such asight has been the last visage many a commanderhas seen before being struck down with a single blow. TheseLieutenants march beside their Generaland are the imposing figure of victory, fighting with precisionunseen in non-vampiricundead.Being no ones to suffer foul smells or have the risk of theiridentity (or nice clothes) tarnished, you will expire before you finda zombie or ghoul marching under the war banner of a Lamian.Preferring clean bone and etherealunits, the tide of a Lamian is one met with the howls of the damnedsouls and the rhythmic song of armor clashing on bone as the armystrides forth. The main guard is normally made up of BarrowGuard; Heavily armored Wights and lesser heroes that are the truewound makers of the army. Entire centers have folded under theimmense and deadly weight of a BarrowGuard charge, even some skilled champions and generals findingtheir fate at the end of a BarrowGuard's Halberdor GreatWeapon. Some even ride astride great Courts, beared aloft byskeletonsor spirits, their most favorite of courtiers riding with them intheir war gowns or armor. It is even been accounted that the mostwarrior centered Lamians will ride atop a fierce steed while in rankwith BarrowKnights, their mountsbeing able to ignore the mud or broken bodies underneath them as theycut down entire companies of soldiers.

      A curious factor ofLamian combat is that they will make use of some necromancers astheir magical combatants, relying on them to replenish and raisetheir undeadminions back to life, or even heal themselves if they get in toodense of combat. Even more so when they make use of the dead bodiesaround them in a pinch. It is not been unheard of Lamians raising thefreshly dead to harry their once comrades in the heat of battle, andhave been recounted as to quickly pulling entire regiments from theground to quicky rush at the enemy lines. However once the combat isover, or if the Vampire flees, the bodies are quickly released anddrop to the ground in mass, sometimes known as "The FinalDeath".


      But when off the battlefield, a Lamianrelishes the true battle of politics. There is no greater fun thanturning friends and family against one another, and hold their deedsof skulduggery like awards on a chamber wall. Entire wars have beencaused by just a single Lamian pulling all the right strings andturning all the right eyes to the person of interest. The VonKarnsteins have been been at odds with Lamians, as they always workto undermine the ancient authority they hold and put themselves ofhigher station. Entire shadow wars have gone unnoticed by the livingas the ancientgrudge of Lamian and Karnstein play out just in the side of theirvision... yet playing with more than one nation's fate.
      I am going to offend you. You are not going to like it. You will survive.

      Chaotic Neutral
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    • Sir Henri Vouivre was one that was infallible in his goals and driveduring his knight ship with the Kingdomof Equitaine. While not a Knight of the Grail, he was a Knight ofthe Quest and traveled far and wide. His feats in combat were some oflegend, and inspired those who fought around him. His Bastard Swordwas styled in the fashion of a great Wyrm, whos head adorned thepommel and tail spirited up the guard and around the lower portion ofhis sword. His armor and shieldshared the same styling, of a crimson dragonthat spewed forth death and destruction on those who dare try andtaint the honor of Equitaine. A handsome man, with his body trainedby years of combat, he never went without his share of female suitorsand admirers on his travels, and never found himself lacking incompany. However this amount of clamor brought upon him theadmiration of a creature that no man of Chivalry would ever want tofind themselves in the eyes of. It was a silent invitation and hiscuriosity that sealed his fate, as he entered the boudoir of adevious and highborn Lamian Vampire.



      WhatHenri thought was a night of pleasurable company, was actually atainting of both his body, and his soul. The change came over him ina raging fit as he desperately fought against the deviations thatsought control over his body. In a wrathful fit he stormed into theboudoir of the Lamian and demanded answers, his body wracked withconvulsions and sweat pouring off of his skin. The haughty Lamiantold him his fate and how he would be one of her courtiers, and wouldserve her for all time. At that point she imposed her will upon him,and Henri Vouivre's bellows of outrage echoed into the night.Something awakened inside Henri, something deep and hateful thatquickly swelled his dying, chivalrous heart. The Lamian blinked inconfusion as she felt a wave of fire wash over her skin, abating thecold air around here. Again she tried to impose her will, Henricrying out a challenge as he began to step forward, his steps heavyand purposeful in his advance. The Lamian stood throwing her armsforward in an attempt to wrest control from Henri and bind himfurther. She was so concentrated on working her will onto Henri thatshe didn't even notice that she was suddenly before her, and hishands clapped around her neck. The centuries old vampire was shockedas she opened her eyes with a flick and found them staring into thered hot eyes of Sir Henri Vouivre. The power emanating from himwashed against her like a tide of pure heat, almost scorching hercold dead heart that lay unbeating in her chest. Henri let out abellowof anguish and crushed her neck in his hands, almost rending her headfrom its stump in his new found strength.


      As he leftthe boudoir in pure chaos, he made sure none saw his face as he racedfrom it and made his way back to his home land. For decades hecontinued to serve his belovedEquitaine with all the honor he could manage, his battlefield prowessbecoming completely unmatched in its fury and bloodlust. The hungerfor blood always tortured Henri at every turn, only giving in to thethirst when it became completely unbearable. The sorrow of it woreupon him like a cloak, and his eyes bore the anguish as if it werethe last remnants of his soul. Things did not go unnoticed: Hisfellow knights began to note how even in his age, his strength neverwavered. He never wore his visor up as they battled in the daylight,and even wore his full suit of armor during court events. Never againwas he seen about in his tailored silks and revelry, only ever in hisarmor, or not seen at all as he stayed in his manor during theknight. The tipping point came when he finally arrived at a nighttime feast in which the king himself and his queen would attend,wearing attire that was only crimson in color and almost combat readyin appearance. His skin was pale, his eyes a ruby red... and not asingle line of age showed upon his face despite being well into his70's. The court was silent as he walked to the Kingand kneeled before him, his cloak gathering about him like a pool ofblood. Sir Henri Vouivre looked up at his king while he knelt, andmade a request of the king. The Kingstared down at him, his eyes full of regret as he gave his answer.Sir Henri stood and turned on his heel. As he turned, he turned hisback to the king... and the country that he loved.

      SirHenri continued to fight as a mercenary, and rode to combat manytimes to assist his kinsman in that fights. However he would not beable to share in the victory, as he had to ride hard and away as soonas the battle was over to dissuade the challengesthat would soon come after. After some time, the yearn forbrotherhood and camaraderie began to take its hold onto Sir Henri,and he began to recruit other champions to take the blood kiss fromhim and join him in the afterlife. This was met with some success andsome failure, as while some initiates went insane with the bloodhunger and needed to be hunted down to destruction, others shared thesame power as Henri and rallied to him. Together they all adopted theiconography of Sir Henri, and marched under the Banner of the Dragon,fighting as either mercenaries or independent armies. Naturally theydo not favor the other blood lines, and have an extreme hatredfor both Lamians and Strigoi,finding them honor less savages and knaves that needed exterminating.Such hatredhas shaken the very ground under the hooves of dread-steeds as theycharged into battle, leveling lances and swords into the enemy andoutright destroying them to the last man. The greatest honor for aBlood Dragonis to take the head of a rival vampire and placing the skull on theirdread-steed, a macabre victory totemto their abilities in combat.


      There have been timesthat the more Order aligned factions have waged wars out of fearagainst the Blood Dragons. Those unfortunate enough to fall againsttheir forces found themselves judged. Whoever stayed behind to fightto the very end ran the gambit of either dying in one on one combatand being cut down... or finding themselves judged worthy to join theranks. The odd thing is that a fleeingarmy was rarely pursued in their flight, as there was no honor inrunning down an army that normally fought for the common people orwas made up of humanity. If an army was one that relished indestruction and pillage, they were almost always hunted down to thelast, finding that their hunters would travel for days on end untiltheir quarry was finally bagged.
      I am going to offend you. You are not going to like it. You will survive.

      Chaotic Neutral
      youtube.com/channel/UCJ9e5C1f26iuvhOA33rsFJQ

      Model Reviews with Twice the Brain Injuries!
    • Wesser wrote:

      Very nice

      How to handle the vampires themselves is challenging as - more than any other army - the army is representative of the individual leading it.

      My own backstory I wrote down somewhere about my BoTD Lord is somewhat different.... :).
      Plunk 'er down
      I am going to offend you. You are not going to like it. You will survive.

      Chaotic Neutral
      youtube.com/channel/UCJ9e5C1f26iuvhOA33rsFJQ

      Model Reviews with Twice the Brain Injuries!
    • Grouchy Badger wrote:

      Wesser wrote:

      Very nice

      How to handle the vampires themselves is challenging as - more than any other army - the army is representative of the individual leading it.

      My own backstory I wrote down somewhere about my BoTD Lord is somewhat different.... :).
      Plunk 'er down
      Eh my writing skills aren't eh... user friendly even disregarding my sloppiness. But sure, what's the worst that can happen? I''ll find it
    • Well

      Here it is in all its glorious… glory

      The background for my General Graf Davian and his army featuring 8th edition fluff, points and stuff (with guest appearances from the armies of my regular opponents).

      It came into life after my last battle with my old EoS army (sold because I could find the miniatures I wanted), where my Elector Count and the rest of his armies just fluffed it (Lord on Griffon killed in challenge with Tomb Guard Champion), so when I started my Vampire army I thought… hell nay, I'm not done with that guy.

      Soooo, don't laugh I guess?


      Graf Davian Rudolphus zu Münsterhof
      336 + pts.

      (Formerly Count Rudolph Von Münsterhof)


      M
      WS
      BS
      S
      T
      W
      I
      A
      LD
      Graf Davian
      6
      7
      5
      5
      5
      3
      7
      5
      10
      Nightmare
      8
      3
      0
      4
      4
      1
      2
      1
      3
      Flyfang
      6
      4
      0
      6
      6
      6
      2
      5
      4




      ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      Count Rudolph was the lord of Münsterhof - The second largest city in Hochland and perhaps the most important fief lord of the Elector Count Aldebrand Ludenhof.Tall and powerful, he was the very image of a heroic general yet despite his prowess the Count never left anything to chance. Every move and stratagem were carefully thought out and every risk measured. How wise this practice weas was to be proven at the Battle of Quivering Hearts...where the count took his first and most fatal gamble.

      The battle was fought against the legions of Tomb King Dhalsim the Arrogant and at the critical moment Count Rudolph forgot his own wise sentiments in the rush of battle and charged the weakening lines of Tomb Guard. Victory would have been assured if not for the freakiest of accidents as the count's blade stuck intractably in the ribcage of a solitary Tomb Guard, leaving the count stricken for the blades of his foes.

      It was as he lay there - shattered on the field of battle - that Abhorash the archlord of the Order of The Blood Dragon came to sit at the death bed of the dying count. What exactly happened there will never be known except on that day Count Rudolph Von Münsterhof zu Hochland died, and the creature Davian Rudolphus was born.

      Having now risen to highest ranks of vampirism the arisen count changed his name and title to "Graf Davian of Münsterhof Past and Present". Why he did this no one knows, and still fewer expresses a wish to find out. Quite unlike his old cautious self, Graf Davian is a maniacal gambler and blood hungering killer, who is quite obsessed with his own death. In his mind this unlikeliest of mishaps, smallest of chance holds a special significance. Plans, ideas and visions are useless in Graf Davian's eyes, for can they not be unraveled be simple chance?Clearly the world belongs to he who can make the game of chance his own.

      And so, Graf Davian ventured forth leaving behind him a wake of wanton annihilation, yet sometimes easy targets totally unspoiled. While totally reckless himself, his every action- be it mercy or cruelty - is dictated by chance. How many dwarven mining villages have heard the marching of boots in the night and the screaming of dead spirits only to find a nearby skaven warren devastated instead? When Duke Justin of Couronne marched home from Cathay, his caravan laden with gold and spices, he did so unknowing that the fate of himself and his caravan totaling several hundreds of people had ultimately been decided by the number of teeth remaining in the mouth of a randomly picked skeleton warrior.

      The flip of a coin, a random sound coming from the vargheists tearing at their victims or maybe just his latest whim may decide the fate of entire cities as Graf Davian sits atop his zombiefied Star Dragon, Flyfang, and interprets the signs of fate and chance.



      Host of Münsterhof Vanquished:

      An army led Graf Davian must choose units from the below list. The Host of Münsterhof Vanquished is not a formally organized body, as its unitsare invariably characterized by the source from where it is drawn.

      The Münsterhof Deadguard

      The standing army of Münsterhof of Count Rudolph was almost entirely wiped out by King Dhalsim's army and the following campaigns against the daemons of Kansi and haughty elves of Prince Pelingilon of Ulthuan decimated most of the troops loyal to the ruling house. The bulk of the Grafs' forces are thus much the same as they were in life, made up as they are by the skeletal legions of his old veterans.



      The Kin

      Made up by the Graf's late relatives twisted into monstrous forms.The ravenous howling of his hybridized vampiric sons intermingles with the screams of the awakened spirits of generations of the family that the Graf brought back to the world of the living, that they might all share the revelation of how the most improbable of odds and unlikeliest of chance can lead to an eternity of misery and torment.



      The Bloodelves

      The bond between the elves of Caledor and the dragons of the mountains are strong and old. When Prince Pelingilon's great Star Dragon Ólerydon was slain in battle by the catapults of King Dhalsim of Nehekhara the high elves sent a strong force to recover the corpse of the great wurm, only to discover that the Tomb King army had already been attacked and destroyed by one of Graf Davian's perhaps less random attacks. The elves of Caledor was horrified to discover that noble Ólerydon now served as Graf Davian's pestilent zombie Dragon, Flyfang. Tragically scores of those who'd come to salvage the corpse of the noble dragon was to be slain by the monster themselves. What happened to the survivors of the army of Caledor was always up to whatever crazed whim chanced up in Graf Davian's twisted mind, and though no one knows their ultimate fate it is whispered that the vampiric thralls in Graf Davian's army weren't ever humans to begin with....





      Army List:

      Lords:

      - Graf Davian Rudolphus

      - Vampire Lords

      - Master Necromancers



      Heroes:

      - Tomb Banshees

      - Necromancers

      - Cairn Wraiths

      - Wight Kings

      - Vampires

      Morvael Bloodwind, The Blood Phoenix

      The self-proclaimed "Phoenix Lord of Caledor" Morvael Fairheart was the notoriously conceited leader of the doomed host of Caledor. Disdaining shields as "protection needed by lesser warriors" Morvael fought with a blade in each hand that he might better display his swordsmanship. His extreme arrogance noted even among his fellow high elves along with this aggressive stance of fighting lead many to assume a shadow in his heart and even whispers about the Cult of Pleasure were muttered when the talk fell on him. It is sad that Morvael behind his haughty facade possessed a heart and soul as pure and noble as to even touch the heart of the Everqueen herself, for in his damnation as leader of The Bloodelves he displays all the savagery and cruelty that he was so unfairly suspected of in life.



      Morvael Bloodwind is a Vampire with the stats and options of a normal Vampire. He must always be fielded on foot and equipped with an additional hand weapon.



      Core:

      - Dire Wolves

      - Skeleton Warriors

      4th Münsterhof Guard. "The Screamers".

      The Graf's last battle in life was notable mostly for the pronounced effect the legions of undead had on the nerves of his men. The 4th was the only regiment that held their nerve in that battle presumably by yelling and singing loud enough to dampen out the howling and whispers of the horrors they fought against. Now long after any voices they had has rotted away and factors such as nerve and morale have long ceased to matter, the 4th still screams at its enemies as the whims of the Graf dictated that destiny willed that the screams of the 4th should always drown out of those of their enemies.



      The 4th Münsterhof Guard must have The Screaming Banner.

      Special:

      Grave Guard

      Münsterhof Fellbloods. Formerly the "Münsterhof Bluebloods"

      The Münsterhof Bluebloods were in life the favoured Greatsword bodyguard of Count Rudolph, but when the final hour came chance made them lose their nerve and those who had sworn never to take a backwards step threw away their weapons and fled.

      In death they still form the elite guard of the Graf, though they now fight equipped as mere swordsmen. Why the Graf punishes automatons that are totally enthralled to his will in this subtle manner is a riddle that no one, perhaps not even the Graf himself, truly know the answer to.



      The Münsterhof Fellbloods may never have greatweapons.

      - Black Knights

      - Fell Bats

      - Bat Swarms

      - Spirit Host

      - Vargheists

      The Sons

      The ruling house of Münsterhof suffered after Graf Rudolph's death. The Graf had many sons, but each of them fell in turn in the campaigns after his death until the reins in present-day Münsterhof were totally in the hands of the sigmarite priests that now rule in city in all but name. Curiously none of his sons'remains were ever recovered as the agents of the immortal Graf intervened to steal away the bodies. For a Lord who has been known to reward enemies and punish even the most loyal servants as chance and whims dictates it is perhaps merely coincidence that his sons all ended up as the blood crazed monstrosities they now are. More cynical observers though point out that failure never increases your odds...

      Rare:

      - 0-2 Varghulfs

      Justicar Bishop Joachim Feuerfrei

      Faithkeeper Karl-Heinz Brünner

      The story of the former warrior priests of the pious Count Rudolph's court is a tale of faith that never broke, but sanities and mortal frames that did. In his new demented form as Graf Davian, the half-sane vampire lord had no more need for faith, especially faith that casually explained chance and fate as being the will move of the gods.

      Transformed into vampires at the Graf's whim the two priests stubbornly refused to feed their monstrous thirst, but their steadfastness only served to drive them deeper into darkness as their sanities and mortal bodies finally broke beneath beastly thirst and ravenous hunger. Now the former priests have regressed into monstrous varghulfs that lope obediently at the side of a predator greater than themselves.

      - 0-1 Terrorgheist

      - Mortis Engine

      - Cairn Wraiths

      - Blood Knights

      Order of Caledor Shattered

      When Morvael Fairheart's army was destroyed the Dragon Princes of Caledorwere last to fall, but they in turn fell deepest of all. Torn from their steeds and given the Blood Kiss by Graf Davian himself these fallen knights of Ulthuan has been granted deadly powers and a malicious rage rivaling that of Graf Davian himself.