Warhammer Age of Sigmar: Soulbound Bestiary – RPG Supplement Review

• Writing: Emmet Byrne, Cat Evans, Elaine Lithgow, Jessica Marcrum, KC Shi, and Christopher Walz
• Editing: Christopher Walz, and Síne Quinn
• Producer: Emmet Byrne
• Cover Art: Johan Grenier
• Cartography: Jared Blando
• Illustration: Max Fitzgerald, Runesael Flynn, Johan Genier, Pasi Juhola, Dániel Kovács, Sam Manley, Clara-Marie Morin, and Rafael Teruel
• Graphic Design and Layout: Tom Hutchings
• Proofreading: R. P. Davis
• Cubicle 7 Business Support: Anthony Burke, Elaine Connolly, Donna King, Eileen Murphy, and Kieran Murphy
• Cubicle 7 Creative Team: Dave Allen, Emmet Byrne, Dave Chapman, Walt Ciechanowski, Zak Dale-Clutterbuck, Cat Evans, Runesael Flynn, Dániel Kovács, Elaine Lithgow, TS Luikart, Rachael Macken, Rory McCormack, Dominic McDowall, Sam Manley, Pádraig Murphy, Ceíre O’Donoghue, JG O’Donoghue, Síne Quinn, and Christopher Walz
• Publisher: Dominic McDowall
• Warhammer Age of Sigmar: Soulbound Designed by Emmet Byrne and Dominic McDowall
• Special thanks to Games Workshop.

Quite the mouthful, isn’t it? You can find my review of the core game here. However, I’ll let past Richard give a quick summary of the game:

“Big, bold, bombastic, and brutal—Players take on the role of larger-than-life heroes (literally, in some cases), at the forefront of the battle between the forces of Order and the hordes of dead, damned and demented foes who oppose them. Immortal knights, soul-eating sea-elves, flying steampunk machine-gun dwarves, giant treemen, and more fight through a world of high action, high magic, and high stakes. It’s a game with grimdark tattooed on one fist and noblebright tattooed on the other.”

Soulbound is in the interesting position of being very closely tied to its parent game—the tabletop wargame Warhammer Age of Sigmar. (Though it’s not that unusual these days, given the Iron Kingdoms RPG, Through the Breach RPG and the original Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay.)

Like all tabletop wargames, Age of Sigmar is designed to create unique armies full of cool new models and get people to buy them. And parent company Games Workshop are the best in the business in that. Which means that Age of Sigmar has a huge number of factions, sub-factions, weird warrior orders, themed magic users, and unique monsters. And they are all intended for the battlefield.

This gives the Soulbound Bestiary its greatest strength—a tremendous variety of creatures to draw from. The book contains nineteen sub-factions and nearly two hundred monster entries. The names alone are a treat to read, and the entries can evoke wonder, disgust, and awe by turns. It also highlights a key difference between Soulbound and more traditional fantasy RPGs, which some might consider a weakness. There are no puzzle monsters, no trap monsters, and relatively few independent operators.

I don’t mean that as a criticism, it’s simply this book made me realise that Soulbound isn’t a replacement for D&D and was never intended to be. It’s not really a game for dungeon-crawling, (though you can do it), it’s a game for war, derring-do, intrigue, and exploration. And that’s cool.

Just like the core book, the Soulbound Bestiary is very well set out, with notes explaining which page in which book to check for further information when needed. I’ve still not seen anyone do layouts better. (Though they do still put monster descriptions at the start of a sub-faction entry and monster stat-blocks at the end of the sub-faction entry, so the stats and description of a particular creature are usually a few pages apart, which is still very irritating.)

The artwork throughout is lush and evocative, with the monsters and warriors usually depicted in the midst of savage battles. I got the impression more than one artist was involved, with a couple of different styles on display. I don’t know how many illustrations were made for Soulbound and how many, if any, were reused from books made for the parent game. Not every creature gets its own portrait (admittedly, two hundred pictures would have been expensive), and the placement of pictures and stat blocks occasionally makes it difficult for newcomers like myself to work out which snarling beast or spike-festooned warrior is which.

Introduction

The introduction is short and sweet. There’s a quick pitch for this book and the core game. The creature stat blocks are broken down line by line and explained with a handy diagram.

Finally, there are a couple of pages about using monsters cleverly and creating special missions for Soul Bindings (player character parties) to get involved in. This includes a table of combat complications, such as an arcane ritual that must be completed, a collapsing ceiling or a high value target to be captured or destroyed.

Then we’re straight into the first sub-faction and those don’t stop until the book is finished. Each sub-faction starts with a general description of the group, then an explanation of how to use them in your game and a description of how to use them in combat. I appreciate this very straightforward and practical approach to describing factions. And although I’ve taken an interest in Warhammer lore since long before Age of Sigmar was a twinkle in Games Workshop’s eye, I learned some fresh and interesting things about the armies that had been imported from Warhammer Fantasy.

Each creature entry talks generally about their habits, ecology, origins and so on. These descriptions aren’t broken down, leaving the authors to focus on whatever interested them about that particular monster or warrior. That does cut out a lot of boring stuff like diet, which might otherwise have clogged up the bestiary. It also means you are occasionally left a little unsure as to what this creature actually is.

I’m not going to break down or even mention all two hundred entries, I’ll just give you my impressions of each sub-faction and pick out the creatures that interested me.

Cities of Sigmar

Sigmar’s cities are full of different groups and competing interests, and the forces of Chaos are always seeking to infiltrate and subvert the free peoples. It’s not unknown for Soulbound to have to fight local city guards or militia if local politics turn against them. Though the writers say that this is unlikely. Generic cultists are also included here.

Forces of Order

A lot of warriors who, theoretically, fight for Sigmar’s faction of Order are either mercenaries for hire or actively evil, so these could be a threat to player characters. Such foes include dwarven Berszerkers and the half-serpent, elven Melusai. Also, heavily armed steampunk dwarves.

“Pin Them, Shred Them, Finish Them: Grundstok Thunderers coordinate their fire with lethal synergy.”

These dwarves use their black powder guns to knock enemies over, stun them and finally inflict double damage. It’s a cool ability with a nice description.

Not all Stormcast Eternals are nice people, and some may have occasion to fight Soul Bindings whose agendas don’t precisely fit theirs. Two Stormcast Lords are included; their stat-lines didn’t look hugely impressive to me, but they might prove more effective in play. These forces are also included to provide the player characters with allies, trustworthy or otherwise.

Monsters and Beasts

Not a true sub-faction, but rather a collection of different weird and savage animals that roam the Realms. Many of them are used as mounts or pets by actual sub-factions however, particularly the Ogor Mawtribes, Idoneth Deepkin, and the Stormcast Eternals.

“The near-infinite expanse in each realmsphere contains more creatures than mortalkind could ever name. This chapter focuses on beasts from a few specific biomes—the deep oceans, Azyr’s celestial reaches, and the Everwinter’s fringes—but also includes famous or ubiquitous monsters from across the realms, as well as those commonly raised by the free peoples.”

The key message of this chapter is extreme, magically infused environments produce bizarre and dangerous creatures. The writers also mention beasts can foreshadow what power is currently affecting the environment—enraged monsters suggest the hand of Khorne, diseased creatures imply the influence of Nurgle. A good idea.

Otherwise, all of these beasts have at least one ability that makes them more challenging foes or more useful companions—none of them are mere bundles of hit points. I did notice a lot of blurring and remixing of classic fantasy monsters. Gryphons and dragons are a particular theme for the Stormcast. Including:

• Demigryph: a flightless gryphon used as a mount.
• Dracoline: A lightning wielding cat-dragon.
• Dracoth: Big draconic monster. (It took a bit of Googling before I could determine which portrait was the Dracoth and which the Dracoline.)
• Tauralon: Goat-dragon-bird from Azyr. Casts ill omens on enemies by flying over them.
• Stardrake: Perhaps the biggest, most awesome monster on the side of Order. A super-magical, lightning-spitting, celestial dragon, that summons comets.

The Idoneth Deepkin (soul-eating sea-elves) get more flying sea-monsters. (I love these guys.)

• The Leviadon: a giant snapping turtle. (It looks awesome.)
• The Deepmare: a horned fish with front legs that end in long talons and a lower half that consists entirely of tails.
• The Kharibdyss: which is more like Scylla, a five-headed horror without eyes or any facial features beyond gaping maws and head-talons, a “nightmare birthed in a world without light or hope.” (Beautiful writing.)

The Ogors (ogres) get some suitably large prehistoric-themed monsters to ride around on.

• The Mournfang: a cat-like creature with tusks so big they block its vision, leaving it to charge at and smash things almost at random.
• Stonehorns: giant mammoths that eat stone and can turn into statues themselves if they don’t keep moving. (A great bit of fantastical ecology.)
• Thundertusks: lumbering beasts surrounded by perpetual snowstorms. (The ever-hungry ogres use them as living fridges by tying choice cuts of meat to them.)

I also appreciated the humble Bat Swarm, which rolls as many dice to attack as it has Toughness (HP) remaining. That’s very similar to how I write swarms.

Seraphon

“They come from the stars—reptilian warriors trailing comet tails of light and burning atmosphere, wielding golden artefacts that crackle with celestial energies.”

The Lizardmen of the old Warhammer World were inspired by a pulpy, exoticized view of various native South American cultures. They lived in steaming jungles, inhabited ancient temples, wielded Aztec style weapons, and sacrificed sentient beings to their many gods.

They were also deeply entrenched in the meta-plot of the Warhammer World. They were creations of the Slann—ancient toadmen who themselves were the servants and creations of the ineffable and long-lost Old Ones—ancient and supremely powerful opponents of Chaos. The Slann survived the destruction of the Old World (or were reincarnated, I’m unclear on that point). Their servant species didn’t, not exactly. Instead, they were formed into constellations of stars, which the Slann can cause to manifest in the Realms as copies of their former flesh and blood selves—now called the Seraphon.

Yeah, they’re weird. (I have a supplement that goes into a bit more detail on them in my review queue.)

The whole point of the Seraphon is to fight Chaos. (Though they’re not directly allied with Sigmar, preferring to keep their own counsel.) Glory and riches mean nothing to them. Nor do sentiment or grudges. Only the Great Plan of the Slann/Old Ones matters. The same Seraphon could help you in a battle, then attempt to kill you the next time it meets you, because this will best serve the inscrutable Great Plan.

“The Seraphon should feel like organised, coordinated combatants. They assist each other often, and they utilise the full breadth of Actions rather than just Attack mindlessly. At the same time, they care little about restraint or mercy, and their priorities regarding collateral damage never quite align with those of other mortals.”

The Slann themselves do take the field when necessary. They are among the most powerful spellcasters in the Realms and have prophetic abilities that grant them free Successes to spend on any roll they wish.

There are three main species of Seraphon, besides the Slann.

Saurus are closest to what you might imagine as lizardmen—burly, scaly humanoids with long pointed snouts. They are stalwart, without ego and can live for centuries, gaining ever more knowledge and experience until they become the mighty warriors known as Oldbloods.

Skinks are small, hobbit-sized lizardmen with colourful crests. They rely on stealth, cunning and even magic. Most are infiltrators and archers, shooting poisoned arrows from cover.

Kroxigor are tall, ogre-sized crocodilian lizardmen with limited intellect. They actually show a certain amount of sentiment, becoming quite fond of their skink handlers.

The rest of the Seraphon chapter is taken up with dinosaurs. They’re not called dinosaurs but that’s what they are.

• Bastiladon: A walking lizard fortress!
• Carnosaur: A bit like the modern understanding of a T-Rex (walking with its head down, in line with its tail, rather than standing up like a human). No feathers though.
• Razordon: Can shoot spines from its back.
• Ripperdactyl: A beautifully named riff on a pterodactyl, these creatures eat foes alive while their kin, the Terradons, pick them up and drop them from a great height.
• Stegadon: Actually much more like a triceratops than a stegosaurus.

I enjoyed these entries, who doesn’t like dinosaurs? And something about the altered names and shifted around attributes makes them seem all the fresher and more fun. I can see players having a lot of pulpy action fun climbing, dodging, running over and fighting these huge beasts.

From here, the remaining sub-factions are grouped into the three antagonist factions of Chaos, Death and Destruction.

Chaos

Beasts of Chaos

Once called Beastmen, these servants of Chaos are combinations of humans and various animals. (Mainly, but not exclusively, goats.) The authors have really amped up the drama and horror of Beastmen, they are monstrous hordes seething with mutation and revelling in near complete anarchy.

“Where they walk, plants writhe and sprout teeth, while uroboroses of mutant worms boil forth from the churning earth.” (This applies specifically to the Great Bray-Shaman, but you get the idea.)

Chaos Beasts loathe civilisation and will do whatever they can to horrify their enemies, breaking all the taboos they can imagine. Most Beast herds are too anarchic to serve anyone, including the Chaos Gods themselves!

I particularly liked this little snippet, which implies you can use Beasts to justify importing all sorts of real-world myths of shape-changers and demi-humans into the Age of Sigmar setting.

“Oftentimes, the Beasts of Chaos dwell in ancient, forsaken places and have a folkloric twist.”

Not all Beasts are goat-humans. Many have been drawn, however loosely, from the pages of Greek Mythology. There are minotaurs (called Bullgors) who share the original Minotaur’s insatiable hunger for living flesh. This leads to some interesting (or vile) mutations.

• Bullgors that eat mages mutate into Cygors—their eyes become blind, while a third eye grows in the centre of their forehead, letting them see magic. A great visual! This third eye can unbind an opponent’s spells and devour pieces of her soul in the process.
• Ghorgons are Bullgors that ate other Bullgors and grew extra arms as a result. Due to reasons. (I mentioned the seething mutations, right?)

Chimeras also make an appearance, but can have the heads of any sort of animal the GM wishes, they aren’t limited to the traditional snake, goat, and lion.

Allied to the Beasts are the Dragon Ogors—immortal half-dragon, half ogres, they once ruled Azyr, and loathe the Sigmarite forces with special zeal. They wield lightning like a whip against their enemies.

Blades of Khorne

Now we move into servants of specific Chaos Gods, starting with Khorne.

(A quick note. Games Workshop use the word daemon where most English speakers would say demon, AKA: ‘malevolent supernatural entity from Hell or somewhere equivalent to Hell’. This is not a reference to the comparatively benign spirits of Greek Mythology or to the daemons of the His Dark Materials series.)

War, murder, strife, bloodlust, slaughter. That’s Khorne. He doesn’t care about honour or fairness, he just likes blood being spilled and skulls piled up at his feet, it’s his favourite thing. Appropriately, his followers are brutal fighters who attack with particular savagery when an opponent is wounded. They are a mixture of blood red, horned daemons, and berserk humans. (I wonder if Doom was an influence on Khorne’s aesthetic, or perhaps it was the other around.)

“Show the ugly nature of Khorne before you unleash it on the characters: bodies with their heads removed or other trophies taken, the flayed, limbless carcasses the victorious Khornate forces so proudly display.”

To truly defeat Khorne, one must practice calm and moderation. This is very difficult in the war-torn Age of Sigmar. I like how the authors emphasise the insidious nature of Chaos in this setting—you can defeat its armies, but you can’t wipe it out unless you fundamentally change society and the world itself.

Standouts in the ranks of the Blood God include:

• The Bloodthirster: The most powerful of Khornate daemons and an old Games Workshop favourite. It looks a bit like a Balrog. And I’m pleased to see its stat block is absolutely devastating. Also, any ground it steps on turns to boiling lava.
• Bloodsecrators: (Yes, I winced at the name as well.) An armoured warrior carrying a symbol of Khorne as big as he is, which can be used to summon hordes of Khornate demons from the regions of Chaos.
• Skullgrinders: I’ll let the text speak for itself. “Skullgrinders are no mere craftspeople. When they stride into battle they swing red-hot anvils on lengths of chain as weapons, shattering foes’ skulls and frying the contents.” Because Soulbound is never content with just sensible weapons when it can have wonderfully, ridiculously over the top weapons.
• Wrathmongers: Half-human, half daemon, all muscle. They exude a mist of tainted blood that drives people to attack their own allies in a frenzy of murder.

Disciples of Tzeentch

Tzeentch may be the purest manifestation of Chaos. Change, mutation, fate, plotting, and magic are his domains. He also appears to be fond of multi-coloured fire and laughing.

Tzeentch’s creatures are hidden manipulators, wizards, and particularly weird daemons. Daemons such as the Blue Scribes. One of these creatures can read magic, the other can cast it. Together they are tasked to find and record every spell in the Realms. I could see this leading them into a temporary and treacherous alliance with a party of Soulbound who were investigating a sorcerer or digging through some ancient ruins.

Curseling’s continue the theme of magic. They are fallen sorcerers who carry a parasitic, magic-eating daemon in their chest. They can undo an enemy’s spell and send it straight back at him. They can also read the minds of enemy spellcasters and steal their spells.

The Ogroid Thaumaturge is a hulking brute of a spellcaster, who can wield wyrdflame. But really, they’re combat monsters that become even more dangerous once wounded.

Flamers are daemons made up of multiple heads, snapping crab claws and lots of pretty flames.

“Propelled by shooting wyrdflame out of the toothy maws that serve as a foot, they fly through the air expelling multicoloured flame and cackling loudly.”

The multi-eyed, three-armed Gaunt Summoners are powerful sorcerers and daemon-summoners. They each control a silver tower, a weird twisted vertical death maze. They have been stolen from Tzeentch’s direct control by Archaon the Everchosen—the champion who united Chaos and destroyed the old Warhammer World. (I think he’s kind of a god himself at this point.) The Summoners are not pleased with their new master and seek to undermine him at every turn.

Tzeentch’s greater daemon is the Lord of Change—a towering avian, six-limbed abomination. An immensely powerful spellcaster, it can reflect or even eat incoming spells.

Hedonites of Slaanesh

Slaanesh is the god of pleasure, pain, desire, passion, perfectionism, and artistry. Many of their powers and followers use sexuality and hedonism as weapons. But the authors note, in an interesting extra twist, that, for example, an ascetic scholar could also be seduced by Slaanesh through a misplaced obsession with achieving perfection in a field of academia.

Depending on where you are in the Age of Sigmar meta-plot, Slaanesh may still be tied up in a prison created by the gods of Order. (Fitting for a god of sadomasochism, I guess.) In the meantime, Hedonites might choose to serve another power, or try to ascend the throne themselves.

Slaanesh’s forces are somewhat reminiscent of the Cenobites from Hellraiser—all pale skin and sharp edges. Jagged pincers are common as well. In battle they use poisons, magical perfumes, soporific musk, and their own inhuman charms to bedazzle and bedevil their foes. I enjoyed the advice on using Hedonites in battle. These warriors do not have normal or sane priorities in battle—they’re fighting for the fun of it.

“To a Hedonite of Slaanesh, the only failed battle is a boring one.”

Most characterful were the Infernal Enrapturesses. These daemons tempt musicians to join them in creating the perfect music, only to reveal the musicians themselves must become the instruments (while still alive, of course). This living lyre sends enemies into horrendous convulsions.

Shardspeakers wield shattered mirror pieces, which reflect all the darkness in a mortal’s soul. Mirrors seem to be a thing for Slaanesh now, the closest thing to a Slaaneshi war machine is actually two daemons carrying a giant evil mirror into battle.

The Myrmidesh Painbringers are relatively low-level Chaos warriors. But their character portrait is gloriously, phantasmagorically twisted and full of tiny details (also spikes).

Slaanesh’s warlords are called Lords of Pain. They are extraordinarily good at resisting pain and injury. Part of any damage they suffer is reflected back at their attacker and they can drive their allies to inflict extra damage. Fighting them is definitely going to hurt and you just know they’ll enjoy every second of it.

Maggotkin of Nurgle

“Papa” Nurgle loves you and everyone else. He wants what’s best for you. He wants you to be happy. Unfortunately, his love-language is plague. He’s also partial to rot and maggots.

Whoever first invented Nurgle must have had a curious sense of humour, to create this cheerful, joyful god of disease who hums to himself as he crafts new poxes to ‘bless’ the world with. Pray to him and he will not spare you from plague, but he will give you the strength to survive it, in one form or another.

“Many Rotbringers began with good intentions, studying disease to cure it or praying for strength when their bodies faltered, but Nurgle specialises in twisting people to fight for the inevitable rather than against it. Even Soulbound and their allies are not immune to his temptations.”

Maggotkin’s attacks “poison” their targets (representing aggressive infections, searing bile and general organic unpleasantness). Many of their attacks ignore armour, creating the idea that it’s impossible to avoid suffering Nurgle’s “blessings” when fighting his children.

“Battling Maggotkin is not a glorious contest of might so much as a gruelling challenge where every attack and counterattack wears the party down a little more.”

(And covers them in pus and slime.)

Nurgle’s faction has some of the best (and most nauseating) names and descriptions in the game. His followers are ecstatically evil and deliriously disgusting, just looking at their artwork makes you want to have a shower.

• Feculent Gnarlmaw: a disease tree that births fresh abominations to continue the fight.
• Sloppity Bilepiper: a capering plague daemon, playing pipes and spreading a disease that causes you to laugh until your sides literally split. Just being in the same Zone as the Bilepiper exposes you to their laughing plague.
• Spoilpox Scriveners: daemons that have weaponised sneezing! (A particularly frightening prospect these days.)

Skaven

The fifth and final Chaos god is the Great Horned Rat, the god of ratmen, known in Warhammer as Skaven. An old Warhammer classic, Skaven are deranged, vile, paranoid, megalomaniacal, hateful, cowardly, cruel, seething, and prone to saying everything twice.

Age of Sigmar maintains the old Warhammer idea that there are more than enough Skaven to wipe out every other faction put together. The only thing that stops Skaven from conquering the Realms is the fact that they hate each other as much as they hate everyone else.

I found this idea unconvincing in the original Warhammer world. If Skaven are roughly the size of humans, they should eat around the same amount as well. Real rats in the UK only outnumber humans by around two and a half to one. And a real rat is barely the size of your foot and eats around 20g of food a day. But the subterranean, human sized Skaven could sustain a population larger than the human population? On what? Sewage and scraps? Eating each other? That’s not how biomass works; you can’t increase your population if its main source of food is the rest of your population. (Spirals off into a geek rage.)

But since the Realms of Age of Sigmar are potentially infinite, and since the Skaven are now described as gnawing holes in reality itself, I guess these crazed ratmen have finally found a setting gonzo enough to sustain them.

I liked the advice on using Skaven in battle—they are desperate and utterly without morals or shame, they will take hostages, set ambushes, abandon their allies and scrabble for any advantage. Even the Skaven greater daemons, the Verminlords, are scheming cowards despite the fact that they could rip a mortal champion in half with their bare hands while stabbing another to death with their prehensile tail.

The endless hordes of the Skaven also include:

• The Hell Pit Abomination: “a living war machine formed from the bloated muscle, gnarled claws, and yellowed jaws of countless lesser Skaven. These nightmarish, fused creatures drag themselves across the battlefield with mismatched and twisted limbs atop rotting carts.”

• Stormfiends: gigantic ‘rat ogres’ (like Frankenstein’s monster but with ratmen), with weird tech bolted onto them, and a normal Skaven unwillingly grafted to their brain so they can take orders.
• Warlock Engineers: mad scientists who make appalling weapons out of the sorcerous, highly mutagenic substance known as warpstone.
• Plague Monks: masked zealots wielding poisoned censers that give out clouds of toxic smoke.
• Deathmasters: verminous dual-wielding assassins.

Skaven are a whole lot of anarchic fun for players and GMs. And an absolute nightmare for the characters in game.

Slaves to Darkness

These are the generic followers of Chaos who serve multiple gods or minor powers outside the big five. Or they are pawns who don’t even know the name of the Chaos god they are following. They are written up well. When Sigmar was defeated by the forces of Chaos and fled to Azyr, the peoples of the other seven Realms were left to fend for themselves and most turned to Chaos to survive. These desperate tribes and cults have a post-apocalyptic vibe because, as the authors put it, they literally lived through an apocalypse.

I do like the moral greyness of this background. Yes, these people serve the ‘bad-guys’ of the setting, no doubt. But they didn’t really have any choice in the matter, they could either feed the sacrificial pyres or wind up on them.

Mostly the Slaves to Darkness are a collection of spikes, ominous armour, and variably mortal flesh underneath. A couple of weirder creatures lurk in this sub-faction, however.

The Mindstealer Sphiranx are lithe, feline, creatures with long curving horns and peacock-coloured fur. They look like they’ve wandered out of a Final Fantasy game. Originally, they served Teclis, the Elven god of magic, but they were too proud and wound up being corrupted by Chaos.

The Ogroid Myrmidons are hulking gladiators who serve Archaon the Everchosen. Ogroids apparently waged war against Gorkamorka and lost, this led them to turn to Chaos. We don’t get any further information about that, making me wonder exactly where this species came from and if they were once noble servants of Order, or something else.

Death

Time for the shambling, shrieking hordes of Death.

Flesh Eater Courts

“The story of the Flesh-eater Courts is a tragic one. These monsters believe they are the last bastion of a more chivalrous age, fighting back the tyranny of latter-day kings amongst the other threats to civilisation. They have completely lost touch with reality.”

Quite a few of the sub-factions in this book read like blood-stained fever-dreams. None more so than the Flesh Eater Courts. They are shrieking, man-eating, rotting nightmares—ghouls, vampires, and giant predatory bats that are also vampires. They believe themselves to be noble knights and courtiers.

“dead-eyed minstrels lisp beautiful poems through cracked lips, and ‘ladies’ with blood on their hairless scalps throw screaming animals to their slavering courtiers.”

“courtiers fashion royal banners from the rib cages of their recent victims.”

The purple prose is supplemented by deliciously phantasmagorical artwork—hulking, feral warriors with long bones piercing their limbs and entire skeletal torsos (complete with yawning skulls) adorning their backs.

The Courts are a fast and ferocious sub-faction. Their leaders rally the rank and file with what they imagine to be noble calls to valour, sending them charging forward in a blood-crazed frenzy. Flying ghouls and giant chiropteran terrors swoop down to tear their victims apart. I’m rather looking forward to pitting them against a party of unsuspecting heroes.

Soulblight Gravelords

While they were clearly some form of undead, I was surprised to learn that Soulblight Gravelords are vampires. They are fairly standard dark fantasy vampires too.

“Vampire Lords may rule cities without their citizens being aware of their existence, for some feed in private, successfully passing themselves off as eccentric nobility.”

In fact, this sub-faction seems to consist of all the staples of undead creatures in fantasy fiction. All the ones that didn’t get their own sub-faction, anyway. Zombies, skeletons, wights, bats that have swollen to a giant size due to a steady diet of corpses.

A couple of points stood out to me:

• Vampires regain health whenever they kill a living opponent, slaking their thirst on the victim’s blood, a nice touch.
• The death god, Nagash, is so inherently connected to necromancy that all Necromancers eventually take on aspects of his personality—a great bit of lore and a good explanation for why there no good Necromancers in this setting.

Nighthaunts

Nighthaunts are ghosts, but more Metal. I like that there is an in-universe reason for ghosts to roam the Realms—they are a side-effect of the Necroquake, which was the arcane cataclysm caused by Nagash’s failed attempt to gain absolute control of the Death Realm of Shyish.

Nighthaunts are the mostly unwilling servants of Nagash, souls of the dead captured and bound to eternal servitude. They are often themed around the manner of their death, or the way in which they annoyed the jealous god of Death.

Bladegheists died fighting and still slash away in death. Chainghasts died imprisoned and now fight with ghastflails—chain weapons instilled with the essence of misery and fear.

Knights of Shrouds are former heroes who betrayed their allies and their oaths in return for a sliver of mercy from Nagash. Each one wields a soul-stealing Sword of Stolen Hours.

The wonderfully named Dreadscythe Harridans were healers in life, now they are punished for denying the king of Death his dues. Their hands, which once healed the sick and injured, have been replaced with scythes used to harvest the souls of the living.

Guardians of Souls were mortal Necromancers, inevitably they fell to Nagash’s power and now serve him in a more efficient form—a masked spirit with a ghostly candle glimmering on its head and a ‘nightmare lantern’ hanging from one hand. They are spellcasters and shepherds of the damned.

Fighting Nighthaunts is a difficult prospect, ordinary weapons do half damage against them. The authors advise the players will likely resort to clearing them out with area of effect spells. The authors suggest you can mix in some innocent NPCs to make this tactic more difficult, or lean into it and let the spellcasters have their fun.

Ossiarch Bonereapers

“The Ossiarch Bonereapers are Nagash’s new vision for the dead. Rather than rely on hosts of animated corpses or tides of shrieking spirits, the Great Necromancer has found a new way: legions of constructs, sculpted from harvested bone and animated by collective souls. He portions out limited free will to his creations, and their creations in turn, recognising that sentience makes for more efficient troops.”

A truly original sub-faction, the Bonereapers are giant, multi-armed skeletal constructs with a vaguely ancient Egyptian theme. They may have been inspired by the Tomb Kings army from the original Warhammer game, or perhaps by the Necrons from Warhammer 40k.

A key point about the Bonereapers is that they aren’t just reanimated dead, they are reborn as new creatures with no memories of life. It’s an intriguing idea—a new stage of existence beyond death, a conscious alteration of the fundamental laws of the universe. The Soulblight Gravelords feel like a return of fantasy undead’s greatest hits, the Ossiarch Bonereapers make the undead feel new and alien again.

Not that the ‘life’ of a Bonereaper is pleasant. But I note the authors left the door open for stories of particularly old Bonereapers developing free will and seeking to rebel against their tyrannical master.

Another layer of complexity is it’s possible for living people to coexist with the Bonereapers—they just have to tithe them a suitable number of bodies to be harvested for their bones.

Standout Bonereapers include:

The mighty Mortisan Boneshapers: made from the souls of mages and craftspeople, they are the architects of the Ossiarch hordes, constantly building new constructs and upgrading and repairing others.

Gothizzar Harvesters are lumbering skeletal beasts that fulfil a similar role in battle to the Boneshapers, they harvest the bones and souls of the newly slain and use these parts to repair or replace Bonereapers. They have none of the intelligence of their Mortisan masters, but they do periodically vomit up pools of searing soul-stuff, so don’t get in front of them if you can avoid it.

Morghasts have skeletal wings that, somehow, allow them to fly.

Destruction

The final faction is Destruction.

Gloomspite Gitz

Goblins, they’re goblins. These are the very specific Warhammer style of goblin however, who are basically a type of fungus that has gotten out of hand. Their warbeasts are also fungal and are farmed alongside more traditional mushrooms deep in subterranean caves. (I like to imagine them battling the Skaven down there.) Many of the mushrooms the Gitz farm are poisonous, hallucinogenic, or psychedelic—they make liberal use of these in battle, taking them as battle drugs and spraying their foes with toxic spores.

These goblins aren’t so much an invasive species as an invasive eco-system. Once the spores have spread, you’re going to get them.

Another unique selling point of Age of Sigmar goblins is their desire to blot out the sun and so gain the favour of their god, the Bad Moon. (A literal moon that careens around the skies of the Realms, causing madness and disaster wherever it goes.) They believe if they can please the Bad Moon sufficiently, it will usher in an era of eternal twilight, allowing their fungal empire to spread across all the Realms.

It’s nice to have dreams.

The trademark quirky humour of Warhammer Fantasy is definitely front and centre with this sub-faction.

“The Gloomspite Gitz are not really one faction but three. Moonclan Grots cannot stand daylight, worshipping the Bad Moon as their saviour from the solar bogeyman called Glareface Frazzlegit.”

(Best name for anything ever.)

Those warbeasts I mentioned are called Squigs. Squigs are brightly coloured balls of aggression and teeth. Their only limbs are a stubby tail and a pair of legs that end in wicked claws. Packs of them hop into battle and try to bowl their victims over, so the rest of the swarm can devour them whole.

Also allied to the goblins are river trolls (Fellwater Troggoths) that stink so badly their very presence in a body of water kills all fish in the vicinity.

And alcoholic giants. Which is a terrifying prospect.

Ogor Mawtribes

The Ogors (ogres) are giant, nomadic cannibals. Eating meat, particularly people, is really what they’re all about. They ride beasts even larger and more dangerous than themselves. Some ogres wander the Realms as mercenaries, returning as masters of martial skill. Others enjoy breathing fire.

The frost shrouded Yhetees serve an elemental force called the Everwinter. The ice-storms that follow these hairy, simian creatures can kill weaker opponents without the ogres ever having to lay a paw on them, and even the mightiest warriors will be weakened by the touch of this killing frost.

Then there are the Gorgers, eternally hungry ogres who can unhinge their jaws like a snake. These horrors were possibly influenced by myths of the Wendigo.

Most characterful of all are the Slaughtermasters—butcher-chef-wizards. They each carry a bubbling stew pot full of bloodgruel, bones and chunks of meat. A Slaughtermaster can power his spells by eating from the pot, but there’s always a chance the greedy monster will stuff too much into his face at one time and choke to death! Throw one of these guys into any fantasy game you care to name, it’ll be fun!

Orruk Warclans

“Very few mortals get to see what Orruk life is like outside of warbands—yet it must exist. Orruk yoofs come from somewhere (fungus, probably).”

Orruks are orcs and, presumably, are related to goblins. Certainly, they are also the products of fungal spores. As children of Gorkamorka, the two-headed god of Destruction, they love nothing more than to fight. They are basically an entire culture of football hooligans.

During the Age of Legends, Gorkamorka became a friend to Sigmar. Orruks, in turn, were allied to the forces of Order, battling to destroy Chaos. Gorkamorka has long since grown bored with Order and struck out on its own, and the Orruks returned to their natural role as enemies of humanity and everyone else. However, it’s not unknown for Soulbound to ally with Orruks against the forces of Death and Chaos, at least for a time. The authors don’t go into detail as to what would motivate Orruks to renew their old alliances, my guess would be either they really hate the undead and the hordes of Chaos, or they always prefer to go after the toughest target and don’t mind a few non-Orruks tagging along.

Orruk clans are mainly mobs of tough, hearty, green-skinned, toothily grinning warriors who just really want to smash and/or fight everything in sight.

Orruk spellcasters are at least as erratic as their goblin counterparts. Some routinely allow themselves to be possessed by the spirits of enraged beasts. Others perform magical dances.

Warchanters are divinely inspired drummers who always hear the beat of their god’s twin hearts and can only gain relief by hammering it out on any surface in their reach.

Sons of Behemat

These guys are giants. There are sober giants called Mancrusher Gargants, who are very big. And there are Mega-Gargants, who are ridiculously, ludicrously big, and also sober.

Behemat was a titan (or perhaps, the titan), who was slain by Sigmar himself. His various children are slowly growing, and it seems inevitable one of them will eventually claim the role of titan. An interesting bit of lore that could inform an adventure or a whole campaign.

Generally, you don’t fight a giant and win in Soulbound, particularly if it’s a Mega-Gargant. (The authors actually added an extra rank beyond the maximum rank for Melee, just for these guys.)

The authors provide advice on how to let heroes survive a battle with a Mega-Gargant—they could be kicked into the next county or stuffed into a bag as a snack for later.

Most giants are indolent however and can be bribed with food. In a delightfully whimsical twist, a battle between two armies could be solved by a competitive cook-off to gain the allegiance of a passing giant. Collecting rare ingredients or rescuing a chef would be a great mission for Soulbound heroes in a more light-hearted campaign.

Conclusion

And that’s it. This really is a vast setting with tons of flavour and a huge amount of originality on show. I think most roleplayers would find at least one sub-faction they think is cool. Or at least one they would enjoy fighting!

The book is well written, with the authors revelling in their descriptions of grim warriors, soul-devouring abominations, and uniquely eccentric wizards.

Reading this book was enough to have me imagining quite a few new scenarios and adventures in Soulbound. The heroes crash land into battle between ogre cavalry and Seraphon riding mighty saurian warbeasts. The race to find a way to kill a Mega-Gargant before she can become the next titan. Holding an abandoned outpost against a Flesh-Eater Court who believe they are there to rescue innocent villagers from bandits. Launching an attack on a tribe of Chaos warriors before they can complete a ritual to summon an army of Slaaneshi daemons.

This is certainly an essential purchase for anyone who wants to run Soulbound. I don’t see you running out of monsters or factions to fight after getting it.

As a standalone purchase, it would be a harder to justify. (Which is fair enough, it’s not designed to exist outside the Age of Sigmar.) But if you really love bestiaries or gonzo, over-the-top monsters and antagonists, then you could have a lot of fun reading through it and stealing ideas. After all, most fantasy games would be improved by a rampaging ogre butcher-wizard on a giant sabre-toothed tiger, an army of bone-robots powered by reconstituted souls, a Frankenstein’s Rat Monster, or a Sloppity Bilepiper.

I received a free digital copy of this book in return for an honest review.