From beyond the treacherous Bloodstone Marches, the savage race of the Skorne now march on western Immoren with but one purpose: the utter of all its nations under their dreaded touch. With this army of sorrows come warbeast the likes of which the nations of men have never seen.
The Skorne have lived for millennia in the harsh wastelands of the east beyond the deadly Stormlands. This rugged species has endured daily lives of hardship and struggle. Their politics, such as they are, are comprised of endless betrayals and internecine warfare. For the Skorne, life is a battle for survival. Each crop of food is hard earned or raided from rivals and supplemented by the hunting of enormous and deadly beasts for meager scraps of toughened meat.
They have learned to subsist on little, to trust no one, and to expect that life will be brutal, short, and filled with pain. The only joy they take is in tormenting their rivals and gaining enough power to bask in the adoration of their subjugated vassals. Their history has been one long unending dark age of competing warlords.
The only gods they worship are their own ancestors—the most savage of their bloodlines able to carve petty empires from the holdings of their rivals. The very souls of these honored ancestors are captured at death and interred in sacral interment stones, some of which become vessels for unholy power. Over long centuries of brutality, the Skorne have shaped a complex and sophisticated civilization where cruelty and torture have advanced to the level of art.