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Age of Sigmar

Free City

Excelsis

A vast bastion of Order clinging to the coast of the Beast-realm, built upon a foundation of ground-glass prophecy and endless hunger.

Astrography

Anvalor, the Anvil CityAnvilgardAqshy, the Realm of FireAzyr, the Realm of HeavensAzyrheim, the Eternal CityBarak-Nar, the City of the First DawnBrightspearCarngrad, the Chaos-HoldChamon, the Realm of MetalDraconiumExcelsisGhur, the Realm of BeastsGhyran, the Realm of LifeGlymmsforge, the City of LightGreywater FastnessHallowheartHammerhal, the Twin-Tailed CityHar Kuron, the Shadow-TempleHysh, the Realm of LightLethisMisthåvnNagashizzarNulahmia, the Mortis PalaceSettler's Gain, the Jade CityShyish, the Realm of DeathTempest's EyeThe Eightpoints, the Gateway RealmThe Great Parch, Heartland of FireThe Living CityThe Phoenicium, City of the Reborn FlameThe Seven WordsThe Sigmarabulum, Ring of the HeavensThe Ten Paradises of HyshUlgu, the Realm of ShadowVindicarumXintil, the City of Automata

Excelsis rises from a spur of rock upon Thondia's coast, a teeming wonder of the Cities of Sigmar girdled by titanic walls that hold back the ravening wilds of Ghur. It is called the City of Secrets, for at its heart looms the Spear of Mallus, a colossal shard of the shattered old world impaled in the earth. From this relic weep tiny slivers of glass that, when read by the seers of the Grand Conclave, whisper fragments of the future to those wealthy or desperate enough to buy them.

Prophecy is the city's lifeblood and its curse. Fortunes are made and unmade upon glimpsed futures, and the poor of the Veins district scrabble in filth while the Prophet-Admirals feast upon certainty. Yet the visions are ever incomplete, ever cruel, and a prophecy misread has doomed more expeditions into the interior than any beast.

Ghur itself gnaws at Excelsis without cease. The very stone hungers; unwary citizens have been swallowed by streets that grew teeth in the night. Beyond the walls, orruk Waaaghs and the migrations of monstrous herds break like tides against the ramparts. Still the city endures, for it must, a candle-flame of civilisation guttering in the belly of the predator-realm, sustained by hope, greed, and the endless promise of a future glimpsed but never truly held.