Praag is less fortunate than Kislev and was once completely overswept by mutating storms from the north. Amid howling gales of destruction, the servants of Chaos strode into the city, slaying women and children as the city slowly melted into a screaming travesty of its former grandeur. When the tides of Chaos receded, those fortunate enough to have escaped into the woods returned to find their homes transmuted into the foulest of nightmares. Where neat rows of houses once stood side by side, there now flowed a weird warren of molten glass, melted by some incredible heat, distorted into caverns and caves and all manner of disturbing shapes. Nor was the effect restricted to inanimate matter, for everything passed over by the Chaos hordes became jumbled and intermixed, so it was no longer possible to distinguish between living creatures and the rough stone of houses. Thus, the survivors of Praag found their city completely corrupted, where walls were split to show rows of teeth in a gibbering mouth and where floors moved as if composed of a writhing mass of small creatures...
In desperation, King Zoltan ordered that the city be burnt to the ground, cleansing the foulness from it so that people might build it again. This they did, erecting a new city whose stone walls stood as solid as those of Kislev itself. But little could they imagine the true power of Chaos, for its creations cannot so easily be banished and soon the terrors of the old city began to grow back, polluting the new buildings. At first, the city began to whisper, then the night air was filled with pitiful cries of agony. Once more, faces appeared in the walls and grasping hands rose from the pavements - only be vigilant burnings and rebuilding is any sanity retained. The reputation of Praag is grim and travellers tell sickening tales of its horrors. In his nearby Palace Praag, King Zoltan drills the Stalgrad Militia and broods on how the Chaos spawn can be defeated and his people avenged.