Spring was in the air yesterday morning. The break of day found me in a hunting party from my new tribe. We were searching through some new lands and came across a group of mummies. The undead have never intimidated me, they were strong, but we were stronger and prevailed.
On our way home we came across a keep of knights looking for some help. We hired on to help them “acquire” a package from a caravan traveling nearby. During the battle that ultimately ensued over the package, we found ourselves overwhelmed by sheer numbers. I had heard one of the mages talking about this package and warning the others not to use fire in their magicks, that the package was dangerous. So as the last of my brothers and sisters fell, I lit a signal arrow and took careful aim. My arrow broke through the side if the wooden chest which immediately began to give off a black smoke that stank of dragon breath. The chest bearers screams were cut short by the thunderous noise and huge ball of flame that erupted from the ruined chest. In all half of the caravan was instantly turned to ash, and half if those remaining were burned and broken. After witnessing the power of that package unleashed, I am glad neither opponent won the battle.
So as I mentioned the day began smelling of spring, but the evening became cold…
I and my adopted tribe were sitting around a fire telling the tales from the days battle. The cold crept into me like a dark shadow, a voice whispered “It’s time”. I looked around for the speaker and realized everyone was silent and staring at me. My new brothers and sisters were rising to their feet, looks of ecstasy and blood lust in their eyes. I heard the voice again, softly commanding, “It’s time, prove yourself to me, send me their souls, as long as you fight no blade shall harm you, send me their souls!” I jumped to my feet and reached for my sword, it was gone. They fell on me, a silent pack of wolves, with daggers and swords. I embraced the nearest body, grabbing for their weapon, I felt the hilt but lost my grip.
I was being stabbed and cut on all sides, it was agonizing but I realized the voice spoke true, there was only pain no weakness from the wounds. I threw back three of my brothers and launched myself at another, this time I got my hands on his sword and tore it from his grasp. Before I knew it, I had cut down a sister and two brothers, leave five more to go. The ground was bloody, covered in gore. I stabbed another and fell to my knees, my lungs began to burn, every breath a searing pain. I was being slashed and stabbed from all sides, one brother was trying to sever my arm, blow after painful blow. I couldn’t rise, I stayed on my knees, a great sword in my hands, swinging with all of my failing strength. I stabbed a sister, cut the legs off a brother, leaving two. I tried to rise again and failed, I crawled at them, taunting them to come to me. As my last brother fell, I looked around, at the blood and the bodies, people I loved and cared for. The bodies began to decay, melting away into pools of poison and pus. The hundreds of cuts on my body began to gush my life’s blood, I realized the truth of that voices words, I was no longer fighting. As darkness began to claim me, I saw the red blood coming from my body change to a sickly green color.
There was nothing, a blackness deeper than any I could imagine. The voice, “Go back, you are worthy, for now. Go back to your brothers and sisters, your blood has mixed, you are one with them, as long as you are faithful.”.
We awoke together, our bodies whole, our spirits high. I saw them in a new light, our blood has mingled, we serve the same master, they are truly now my tribe, my blood brothers and sisters, of Nurgle.
