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.