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By C. L. Werner
CL Werner's most recent story follows the final warrior of a fierce Norse tribe as he units out on a deadly quest deep into the scary Chaos Wastes, a land of magic and insanity that lies some distance to the north of the Empire. Hideous monsters, starving daemons, even the panorama itself threaten him and his warrior band on each step of the adventure. What rate needs to a mortal pay to thieve the treasure of Nurgle - the god of pestilence and rot?
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Zhardrach easily chuckled and shovelled one other fistful of burrow-hawk into his mouth. “And you recognize greater? ” Einarr requested, his voice low, full of threat. He wouldn't enable the knight to forestall him now, now not when they had come thus far. now not after he were promised rather a lot. If that intended completing their conflict, then Einarr may solution that problem. Von Kammler nodded his armoured head. “I do, Norscan,” he stated. “These eyes have noticeable where you search. those ft have stood inside its corrupt halls. This mace has tasted the maggot-ridden blood of the tower’s grasp. convinced, i know greater, Einarr Steelfist. ” The assertion introduced jeering laughter from Vallac. The Kurgan sneered on the knight’s phrases, shaking his head. “The southlander lies! ” he boldly proclaimed. “I have noticeable the maps the shamans preserve, i've got visible the Palace of Plagues marked upon them. It lies millions of leagues from right here, deep within the lands of the Hung! Are we to think now vulnerable southlander can make this kind of trip, less go back to boast…” The Kurgan’s phrases died as earrings of blazing mild abruptly flared into lifestyles round him, swirling and pulsating as they rotated him. Vallac fell to his knees, his physique throbbing with suffering. Einarr may well see his flesh peeling away as bony growths erupted from his pores and skin, watched in amazement as his left eye socket started to slide down his face. around the hearth, von Kammler stood together with his hand outstretched, his gauntlet pulsing with gentle. Orgrim pounced on the knight, yet a sweep of von Kammler’s mace despatched the woodsman rolling around the snow. Birna lunged at him ahead of he may get over the assault. Her blade cracked opposed to the knight’s gauntlet, inflicting the steel to shriek and spraying her with molten ichor. She recoiled from the stinging liquid. The glow light from von Kammler’s gauntlet and the knight became to stand his new antagonist. “Enough! ” Einarr roared, springing to his ft, Alfwyrm in his hand. “Is this the gratitude you convey person who has performed you a provider? is that this von Kammler’s idea of honour? ” The knight glared at Einarr, then at Birna. Slowly, he sponsored clear of the girl, fastening his mace to his belt. Warily, the huntress turned around round him, relocating to aid the nonetheless reeling Orgrim. “Your Kurgan doubted my strength,” the knight acknowledged. Einarr appeared around the camp to the place Vallac writhed at the flooring. His fingers have been a mass of bony knobs, his face distorted by way of the mutating strength of von Kammler’s spell. Urda stood a long way from the marauder, observing him carefully. Einarr knew what she was once looking forward to, to work out if the adjustments may proceed even with no the spell, to determine if Vallac’s complete physique might cave in right into a senseless, reeking factor of insanity and carnage. Beside this sort of doom, even demise was once a blessing. “Vallac is aware greater now,” Einarr acknowledged. “I don't imagine any the following will problem you so frivolously back. ” “What do you barbarians comprehend of the powers you name gods? ” von Kammler growled. “You comprehend not anything and picture a lot!