==Why Play Flesh-Eaters Courts==
So you want to play an army of [[Nemesor Zahndrekh]] turned up to 100 with a sprinkling of cannibalism? Look no further. AND IT'S BEEN UPDATED FOR AOS 2.0!!!
Imagine this. A glorious army of marching men-at-arms, disciplined, stoic and determined as they storm forward in organized ranks, watched by the steely eyes of their heroic commanders. By their side, mighty knights clad in full battle plate, resplendent in their shining armor, stomp across the ground with massive bejeweled two-handed weapons in hand, led by the strongest and boldest of their Champions. Above, warriors with angelic wings soar through the sky, intoning prayers and hymns of praise to their gods and their sovereign, filling all with pride to be in the court. Even holy beasts such as gryphons and majestic dragons take flight, their great bellows an inspiration to the humble men below. At the heads of the army, stands the King. Wearing fine armor and plate, he strides forward with confidence and utmost conviction, ready to put those who threaten his people to the sword.
Of course, that's what they think. And it's probably why you're here.
In reality, it's a terrifying horde of stinking, pallid creatures. Swarms of ghouls compete with each other to be first into the fray, scrabbling at their enemies desperately, dragging and tearing apart their enemies. Huge cannibals charge into the fight, shattering the battle line with their charge. Horrid, flying monsters impale unfortunates, while giant undead dragons and terrorgheists cut bloody swathes through formations of troops.
At the head of it all, stand the proud ghoul kings and archregents. Inhumanly fast and durable, such bestial vampires rip apart scores of foes with horrifying ease, while their so-called holy prayers and spells take the form of dark death magic laced with the traces of their delusion. Worst still, when the nobility signals the feast to begin, the mordants are frenzied as they pile right through the enemy formations, surrounding them utterly. Even when the far-more disciplined but beleaguered fighters slay hordes of the slavering beasts, the howls of demented courtiers call even more to battle. What that should have been a battle or simple skirmish devolves into a desperate fight for survival. Where the Kings see powerful stallions that crush the foe with shining hooves, their victims see crazed, frothing and decaying horses that kill mindlessly without pause.
And where the Kings see phalanxes of disciplined yet massive warriors clad in shining armor, the victim sees a wall of corpses clutching the ruins of their once-great civilizations. This is the appeal of the Flesh-Eater Courts. And this is their curse. You will always be the aggressor. Surrounding the enemy and completely outnumbering them. Every single time your opponent must fight to survive, battling endless tides of mordants that all suffer the same delusions, the same madness that empowers them with an insane conviction. Welcome to the court. And welcome to the feast.