(Teeth of Khemri intro)
The golden room glistened as the hole in the roof opened. Phas-thra still sat in his throne still drained of his life force. He needed some more victims. Bogrod had been a real help then. His golden crown demanded obedience, having been imbibed with runes from Skalf Ironbeard. Then once it was complete, Skalf gave his master the last piece of help he could give him. He stood, a skeleton in the army, ready to serve his master for eternity. He was now a loyal Tomb Prince. Aspestra too had served a use, but she was still useful. She had imbibed his crown with powerful Chaos magic, Slaanesh now had a direct connection to Phas-thra's mind so that they could exchange thoughts.
In front of Phas-thra stood Bogrod, as hulking as ever and Aspestra, still beautiful yet dangerous. She was different though. Her skin had a paler more purple shine to it. She had changed since last time. She now served only one master, Slaanesh, who was giving her orders through Phas-thra. Bogrod had been pleased by Skalf Ironbeard's demise, but it had unsettled him. Skalf was no longer requiered, when would he meet the same fate? He put it out of his mind, waiting for the chance to get in more bloodshed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The sand was blindingly bright in the afternoon sun. The company moving slowly through it were battle hardened but thristy. The man in front rode in splendid silver armour on a perfectly white stallion. Beside him rode a minstrel on a donkey. The minstrel was humming to himself, due to being ordered to stop singing several hours ago. Behind these two were a dozen men in gleaming silver riding on horses. None of these horses were as beautiful as the first, but they all had the look that they had survived battle after battle with their riders.
The minstrel was just thinking of a new verse he would add to his long song of the hero when a figure appeared on the horizon. On the right flank of the company was a large pyramid, with an impossibly high point. It gleamed gold in the sun. The company stopped at a signal from the leader. He looked cautiously at the figure. It was a man with a dark olive skin colour. He had straight black hair that came down to his shoulders. He wore a deep golden toga clothes and looked to be from a high up family. This looked like a khemri citizen of old, but that was not possible, he should have been dead centuries ago, or look like a skeleton.
The man stopped and raised an arm high up. Then he pointed to the minstrel. To the right, a rank of four dozen archers rose at the base of the pyramid. The leader had just enough time to register the archers before a hail of arrows decended upon the cavalry. all the horses fell, dragging their riders to the ground with them. Three of the men fell with their horses, dead. The rest rose shakily and strode around the hero who had fallen from his now dead horse. They would die protecting him.
The guard had no sooner assembled around their nobleman before the second hail of arrows landed. half a dozen men fell, leaving only the minstrel, the lord and three of his guard. They noticed the man, standing perfectly still, his arms by his sides. They decided to charge him, they may kill the archers by killing him. Without a single warning, the man raised one hand and the sand around the men's feet contorted. They looked in shock as the sand crushed their legs around the shin. Then it fell, perfectly limp to the ground letting the men fall off their useless legs.
Three howls of pain and then the sand rose and crushed them. The nobleman stared and didn't even noticed the huge wall of sand rise behind him until it crashed down on his head crushing him into the impenetrable sand below. The only survivor of the onslaught was the minstrel who had fallen to his knees and had his mouth hanging open in shock. His eyes were wide with fear. Then a chanting came from the pyramid and the archers fell back into the sand. Small purply gold strands of energy flew from the top of the pyramid to each of the dead men.
Suddenly the bodies began to age at an alarming rate, becoming bones in less then a minute, their life sucked out of them for a better purpose. The man with the black hair was gone, and the minstrel felt a strange urge to head for the pyramid. He had no idea why he wanted to head toward his lords killers.
|