you were warned of the taint of chaos
warned of it for years upon years
the terrifying reach of it
from the plagues to the Norscan raids
your life was devoted to Sigmar and the empire
stacking crates on a dock
you didn't question the path laid out for you
you were just another wheel keeping the empire going
stacking crates on a dock
some may go as far to call you some sort of faceless underling
swashbuckling was not for you
if drafted to fight you'd fight but you were by no means quick to rush into it
most of the men had been drafted into wars already
leaving you one of the last defenders unfortunately
actually defending such a small river town wasn't a high priority
when the small hamlet was raided by beastmen you were covering the escape of the women and children
plenty of campfire horror stories ended or started with a raid by chaos
what they left tended not to be pretty
almost all the other militia broke and fled because of this
you just hoped it would be over quick
purple and pink that almost hurt to look at
the sweetest smells filled your nostrils, mixed with something salty
strange beastmen cavorting through the town
you'd heard of them
they weren't as famous as the skaven hordes
but they'd made names for themselves none the less
strange thing was the goats seemed to be trying to capture alive
at least they were trying to capture you alive
you'd not seen another human for about an hour
one goat in particular stuck out to you as particularly tenacious
he was almost two heads taller than you but built like a rail
it let him scamper after you with a grace the brutes didn't have
you'd take a corner and he'd be practically breathing down your neck
his gaudy talismans and fetishes dangling like windchimes on his neck, horns and other places
you weren't prepared for the flying tackle that took your feet from out from under you
"my own man!"

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Pub: 01 Jul 2022 18:12 UTC
Views: 3025