Beneath a sky resembling an oil spill, the footfall of the Lunar Nomads rang out against a cobbled road. Their gold and crimson armour would have at one point been illuminated with the moonlight refraction, however after two and a half decades of carving their way through the land of the forsaken, it had lost it's previous lustre. When they had first arrived in these lands under a flurry of holy lightning, they had been freshly forged and brimming with anticipation for service of their Lord. The years in servitude had dulled not only their armour but also their zeal as fresh faced green soldiers were turned into gnarled and bitter veterans, under the pressures of this hostile land.
At the head of the march was Carthan Kelvar, the Lord Celestant of the Lunar Nomads. Carthan was a pragmatic man who lead through example rather than hollow words. In battle he was the foremost in the ranks and while resting he always took first watch, never to be seen asking anything of his company that he wouldn't first put himself through. After so long from holy Azyr this was the figure head that drove the Lunar Nomads.
Their mission had been to forge ahead of Sigmars forces and claim a realmgate deep in a Shyish citadel. At first the mission had seemed straight forward as they found minimal resistance between them and their prize. It was only upon activating the portal gates that they had discovered it's true nature. Purple lightning had erupted from the twin pillars and the entire company had been swallowed up with a feeling resembling being drowned in hot had before being thrust out the other side in a twisted shadow realm. Where Shyish had been a crumbling husk of its former glory, here ethereal towers loomed and the air tasted metallic. The portal had crumbled to dust behind them scattering to the winds as piercing screeches echoed through the shadow citadel halls. Many of their number had fallen in that first attack. Banshees had assailed them from above, drifting from the great stone rafters and descending upon startled prey. Great azure lightning burst from each warrior struck down by the ghostly fiends as Sigmar reclaimed his tortured souls.
Carthan hastily organised his warriors into a retreating shield wall, with liberators and judicators in alternating lines. As crackles of lightning arrows pierced the apparitions, the judicators flowed backwards through the ranks and the liberators forced back their adversaries with shield and hammer. Holy sigmarite weapons smashed banshees out of existence as the company retreated out of the citadel. The bitter sting of a crushing defeat at the hands of such a trap and the loss of so many companions had shattered the companies morale but it was nothing compared to the realisation that they had been cut off from Azyr. No reinforcements arrived and try as they might they could not make contact with the God King.
They had been cursed.