Der Verlorene Haufen: A Healthy Dose of Nihilism and Morr Skullz!

The stagnant chill of the morning sat heavily amongst the pines. The silence that hung expectantly in the air gave way to the dull clank of rusted armour and harness. Slowly they came, forlorn and sombre, the mud sucking gently at their worn boots. One could have been forgiven for thinking the dejected throng a ghostly apparition or some other ethereal conjuration, for no word or groan escaped the visors of their dour helmet, save for the ragged clouds of condensed breath that hung about their heads in the cold air. 

Der Verlorene Haufen: Once more unto the breech Dear Friends!

“Where now are the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?

Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?"

Nope - the Cult hasn't got them yet, but where indeed are they one might ask and my answer would be that they reside in numbers amongst my lead pile, waiting to meet this year's Old World Army Challenge! I've just realised I never published this post last month after it aired on the OWAC blog - oh well, better late than never!