The year is 1999, almost two-thousand years after Sigmar, and the Empire he built is in flames. It is the age of Three Emperors. Man fights man, cities burn and widows are made. The enemy within grows in strength daily while foreign powers draw their plans against the Empire of man. The moon, Morrslieb, spat at the Old World, ruining Mordheim and making it a haven for treasure seekers of all kinds, the resulting wyrdstone being worth it's weight in gold.
Mordheim is not the only place to have been hit however, merely the largest and most famed. Schnuffleberg, a town in the north-east of the Empire not far from the border with Kislev and just as close to the World's Edge Mountains, was also struck, and although it was not as entirely devastated as was Mordheim, a large portion of the city was destroyed, rendered down into ruins. The populace mourned, then rejoiced as they realised the wealth the shards produced from the meteors would bring. This joy began to die almost as soon as it began. Things were not right in Schnuffleberg. Children were born malformed in the most terrible ways, otherwise healthy men suddenly contracted poxes and bloody fluxes, a third eye bulged into place on the mayor's forehead. The town was cursed, much of the populace fled, many of those that remained turned to worshipping dark, half-forgotten gods as it seemed to them Sigmar had abandoned them.
Schnuffleberg did not die however, as the civilian populace was driven away the town attracted a new population of opportunists, brigands, treasure hunters and other unlikely peoples. What was previously a relatively quiet border town was now effectively a warzone.
The forces of Chaos have always been powerful in the North, drawing strength from the tainted wastes beyond Kislev, so Schnuffleberg has never been totally free from the influence of the malevolent dark gods. Far from the center of Imperial affairs, very little is done in these times to maintain law and order in some far-flung border town, let alone purity of body and spirit. The influence of wyrdstone to Schnuffleberg has brought the festering corruption of the population to a head.
Worship of the Chaos gods is now common and practiced with minimal fear of recriminations. People rejoice in their mutations and roam the streets, looking for wyrdstone and sacrifices to please whichever deity they might have taken as a patron. Mutated man-beasts come in from the forests to join their more human brethren in worship. Daemons manifest spontaneously, sometimes on their own accord, sometimes in the flesh of others. The Possessed most certainly have a presence in Schnuffleberg. They are not so like their kind in Mordheim however, most have not even heard of the Shadowlord, and many of those who have simply do not care, instead putting their faith in other chaotic entities. While they may lack unity of faith and purpose they are no less dangerous for it, if anything their competition for favour and raging fanaticism drives them to greater and more terrible atrocities against the pure and tainted alike.