Hilde lay upon the dirt of the trail as the wagon clattered away. The mules were terrified and couldn’t slow now if they wanted to. She needed water so badly she physically ached, in the distance she could hear the screams of the dying and the triumphant baying of the beastmen, their improvised horns blasting out their triumphant feasting cries. 

It took her a moment to admit she was really alive, though for how much longer remained in serious doubt. The chaos warriors voice seemed to bore into her soul and she wanted to curl up on the soft earth and weep. Another part of her brain screamed that if she stayed here they would catch her again and their would be no Dieter to save her from their sport. With an effort of will she forced herself to her feet.

[b]“We have to get out of here,” [/b]she cried, her voice cracked in her bone dry throat but she didn’t have a waterskin. The grizzled soldier was already pulling himself up from the dirt.

[b]“The road or the woods?”[/b] she asked the Sergeant in indecision.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Balgar the Demonhearted stalked amidst the carnage like a vengeful shade. The Changer had led him to this place, told him of the need to recover the strange powder. He had read the fates in the entrails of an albino beastman under the full moons and it had bought him here. And these weak servants had failed him. He struck one with the flat of his sword as it gorged itself on the entrails of a dead hand gunner. The beast recoiled like a whipped dog, whimpering and scuttling backwards. His warriors were bringing some order to the feasting beastmen but it was taking time. 

There was something about the scarred imperial who had helped the girl that bothered the chaos warrior. His skin, or what passed for skin beneath the armor, prickled as though his Dark Patron wanted to tell him something. Warn him of something? Surely the soldier was just a man like the many hundreds he had slaughtered. When there was time he would ask the fire.

[b]“A fine dance,”[/b] came a silky smooth voice. Balgar turned to see Crovendif, now the leader of the small Slaaneshi contingent after his late and unlamented master's death. Balgar hated Slaanesh’s worshipers, their unchanging focus on their own gratification was anathema to the followers of the Changer. Still he needed Crovendif and his warriors if he were to run down his quarry.

[b]“Get your warriors after the two survivors,”[/b] Balgar ordered, nearly taking the snarl out of his voice. Crovendiff didn’t change his posture but somehow Balgar knew that the other warrior was amused.

[b]“Let us talk payment first,”[/b] Corvendif countered in a smoothly reasonable tone.

[b]“We already agreed on payment, the valley of the unshriven was to be opened to your master,”[/b] Balgar replied coldly. There was some movement now that the beastmen had been driven away from the half devoured dead, still slow if he hoped to run down the pair of escapees. Crovendiff examined his gorgeously bejeweled gauntlets as if expecting to find a flaw.

[b]“That was with Calash and Calash is with the Dark Prince now, he doesn't have any need to enter the valley,”[/b] the Slaaneshi countered, his voice thick with ironic amusement.

[b]“What do you want,” [/b]Balgar demanded, hefting his sword in unspoken threat.

[b]“The girl,”[/b] Crovendif demanded,[b] “Alive, she has unfinished business with the Dark Prince.”
[/b]
Balgar began to laugh as the last of the wounded were butchered in the blood stained dirt.


[@POOHEAD189]