06 Jul 2006
Hey all, here's a little Clan Pestilens story:
A foul stench came from the Cauldron of a Thousand Poxes. The very essence of disease swirled over it like it like a stinking fog cloud, and all manner of insects were drawn to its evil scent. In the cauldron was a substance which smelled like a rotting cadaver which had died of Lepra three weeks ago. A substance which could kill a mortal merely by touching it. A substance blessed by the Horned Rat itself.
The Skaven around the Cauldron were immune to its deadly effects though. All of them were dressed in filthy, muddy robes, and most were leaning on croaked staffs.Their bloated skin was hideously deformed by the many poxes and plagues that infested them, and yet they didn't seem to suffer from this. Some of of them carried great flails filled with fuming noxious gases, and despite the endless chittering the Plague Monks and the countless little rats around them, all became silent when a single Skaven stepped into the room, which was filled with half destroyed Dwarven statues and the rotting corpses of the Dawi themselves.
The newly arrived Skaven was even more heavily robed than the others, so that one could not see it's face, apart from it's eyes and snout. It leaned on a large, rusted scythe, with bells hanging on the dirty weapon. From it's robes hung all kind of trophies, such as boil-infested severed heads, eyeballs with a sickly yellow colour, and other things that were probabaly once body parts, but could no longer be recognized as anything that once belonged to a human being. It's grey fur was so boil-ridden and under the pus that one could no longer see it's original colour. But the most malicious thing about this Skaven were his eyes; brightly shining green spots in a face that was so dark otherwise.
''Bring in the Dwarf-thing...''
Another door opened, and an unconscious Dwarf was dragged along by two Plague Monks. His nose was bleeding, but was otherwise unharmed. As the Monks stopped straight for the cauldron, the heavily robed Skaven leader started chanting words, pointing first at the Cauldron, then at the Dwarf, and then at the Cauldron again, the Dwarf was borne aloft like a feather into the air, quickly released by the Monks. The Dwarf was now floating above the fuming Cauldron...and he woke up.
Shrieking the last of his foul words, the Priest stamped on the groun with his scythe, before suddenly falling silent. The Dwarf looked fearfull around him, before, with a scream, he was dropped into the Cauldron.
At first it seemed nothing special happened, but then the Dwarf started screaming even louder than before, as the substance within the Cauldron started to flow over him, slididng into his nose, eyes and ears. The Dwarf sank ever deeper into the Cauldron of a Thousand Poxes, and indeed, poxes was what he got, and boils, and blood mixed with pus coming out several small cracks into his head. Amazingly, the Dwarf was still alive, but wished not to be, suffering agonizing pain. Then he emerged again, but didn't look like his former self at all anymore; he rather looked like a rotting cadaver which had died of Lepra three weeks ago.
''The sacrifice has been-been made!'', the Plague Priest screamed, and as one, the Skaven of Clan Pestilens started chittering and cheering.
Please tell me what ya think of it
Greetz
A foul stench came from the Cauldron of a Thousand Poxes. The very essence of disease swirled over it like it like a stinking fog cloud, and all manner of insects were drawn to its evil scent. In the cauldron was a substance which smelled like a rotting cadaver which had died of Lepra three weeks ago. A substance which could kill a mortal merely by touching it. A substance blessed by the Horned Rat itself.
The Skaven around the Cauldron were immune to its deadly effects though. All of them were dressed in filthy, muddy robes, and most were leaning on croaked staffs.Their bloated skin was hideously deformed by the many poxes and plagues that infested them, and yet they didn't seem to suffer from this. Some of of them carried great flails filled with fuming noxious gases, and despite the endless chittering the Plague Monks and the countless little rats around them, all became silent when a single Skaven stepped into the room, which was filled with half destroyed Dwarven statues and the rotting corpses of the Dawi themselves.
The newly arrived Skaven was even more heavily robed than the others, so that one could not see it's face, apart from it's eyes and snout. It leaned on a large, rusted scythe, with bells hanging on the dirty weapon. From it's robes hung all kind of trophies, such as boil-infested severed heads, eyeballs with a sickly yellow colour, and other things that were probabaly once body parts, but could no longer be recognized as anything that once belonged to a human being. It's grey fur was so boil-ridden and under the pus that one could no longer see it's original colour. But the most malicious thing about this Skaven were his eyes; brightly shining green spots in a face that was so dark otherwise.
''Bring in the Dwarf-thing...''
Another door opened, and an unconscious Dwarf was dragged along by two Plague Monks. His nose was bleeding, but was otherwise unharmed. As the Monks stopped straight for the cauldron, the heavily robed Skaven leader started chanting words, pointing first at the Cauldron, then at the Dwarf, and then at the Cauldron again, the Dwarf was borne aloft like a feather into the air, quickly released by the Monks. The Dwarf was now floating above the fuming Cauldron...and he woke up.
Shrieking the last of his foul words, the Priest stamped on the groun with his scythe, before suddenly falling silent. The Dwarf looked fearfull around him, before, with a scream, he was dropped into the Cauldron.
At first it seemed nothing special happened, but then the Dwarf started screaming even louder than before, as the substance within the Cauldron started to flow over him, slididng into his nose, eyes and ears. The Dwarf sank ever deeper into the Cauldron of a Thousand Poxes, and indeed, poxes was what he got, and boils, and blood mixed with pus coming out several small cracks into his head. Amazingly, the Dwarf was still alive, but wished not to be, suffering agonizing pain. Then he emerged again, but didn't look like his former self at all anymore; he rather looked like a rotting cadaver which had died of Lepra three weeks ago.
''The sacrifice has been-been made!'', the Plague Priest screamed, and as one, the Skaven of Clan Pestilens started chittering and cheering.
Please tell me what ya think of it
Greetz