Mark of Chaos by C.L Werner Page A

shields. Heads had been rammed onto stakes and driven into the ground. Cruelly barbed bushes of thorns crept around the stones, and over the tree's twisted roots.
    Hundreds of black carrion birds sat perched in the branches and boughs. Earlier, they had been busy flapping from one branch to another, fighting to rip the choicest strips of flesh from the corpses that hung there. The sound of their harsh cawing had filled the evening, but they had fallen silent and settled down as the sun had set, and now they sat motionless as the witching hour drew nigh.
    A great many beastmen had gathered around the tree by the time that Hroth and Sudobaal had arrived. They had been greeted by the beastman chieftain, the wargor Gharlanoth, and his bray-shaman. The two powerful creatures had exposed their furred necks to the sorcerer in a show of submission.
    The beastmen were true creatures of Chaos, instinctively recognising the power of the sorcerer and responding to it with deference and respect. Two hundred of the wargor's bray-herd were arrayed around the gibbet tree, awaiting the ritual with barely contained excitement, stamping their cloven hooves on the ground. Fights broke out, and several of the gors had raised weapons against one another, snorting and spitting, as they fought for the best places from which to view the coming ceremony. These outbursts were instantly stopped by the wargor Gharlanoth, who roared his displeasure.
    Hroth's face clearly showed his impatience. The sorcerer had left the clearing almost an hour ago, and had yet to return. He snarled in irritation.
    Sudobaal was ravenous . Hunger wracked his wiry frame, his stomach gurgling loudly. 'Yes, yes.' he whispered. 'We shall eat now.'
    A prostrate warrior, one of Hroth's tribesmen, lay on the ground in front of the black-clad sorcerer. He lay rigid, unable to move, staring up with fearful eyes at the sorcerer crouching above him. 'You should be proud.' Sudobaal hissed. 'Your sacrifice is necessary. It will feed us.'
    The warrior struggled to rise, but his limbs would not respond to his urging. 'It's the poison. Don't fight it. Embrace your last moments.' the sorcerer said. He had led the warrior away from the gathering, saying that the man had been chosen by the gods for a special task. He had shoved an upturned skull into the man's hands, dark liquid sloshing within the cranial cavity. 'Drink.' he had urged. The man had looked uneasy, but had raised the skull to his lips and drunk it dry.
    Kneeling, Sudobaal opened his robes, displaying his taut, scarred torso. The skin just below the breastbone bulged outwards, and the warrior's eyes stared at it wildly. The creature within Sudobaal, the creature that was a part of him, pushed itself to the surface of the sorcerer's flesh. Its deformed, babyish face grinned as it emerged, exposing dozens of tiny, sharp teeth. Pallid tentacles slid from the sorcerer's torso. One reached out eagerly towards the warrior. The other coiled up over the sorcerer's chest and gripped his shoulder, pulling the rest of the creature's body from its host.
    Sudobaal shuddered and closed his eyes as the thing pulled itself from his flesh and dropped clumsily to the ground. The colour began to drain from the sorcerer, his skin turning to grey in seconds. The creature blinked its own yellow slanted eyes, and pushed itself upright.
    Reaching across the immobilised warrior, it pulled itself with some difficulty onto his chest and stared hungrily at the man's stomach. A thin, purple tongue flicked out of its mouth, and it lowered its head, biting into the warrior's flesh. Skin gripped tightly between its teeth, the creature strained upwards, shaking its head from side to side, ripping and tearing. It then thrust its tentacles into the wound, and peeled the flesh open, exposing the coiled innards within. It would feed well this night.
    Hroth glared at the sorcerer as he returned to the gathering, greeted by the howling and braying of the beastmen.