The Unholy Legions of Anti-Sanctus Chaotica, a Warhammer Online Destruction Regiment, A Quiet Moment

I believe there were seven. Mira? Mira? Watch the left, don't forget...
The feathers. And, once long ago... The blood! Don't let it spill onto

The cries of the ravens grew louder and drowned out the voices. The girl opened her eyes and shook here head slightly . "They're hungry," she whispered aloud, as she looked about her at the scattered bodies on the ground.

"They ran. Our rear attack disrupted them," Xoc was saying as he hovered by the gap in the gate. No one wanted to say aloud the rumored deals he had made to gain his third eye, but everyone swore he could see into one's soul with it. He certainly seemed to have an uncanny insight into the enemies motivations and plans.

Next to him, the huge Black Orc, Ardhed nodded and continued cleaning his weapon, heedless to the gore and matter splashed liberally across his armor, his face, his arms. He was quiet, as he usually was. The only time he seemed to come alive was when the rage of battle took him over. At that time he laughed, as if the pain he caused, the blood he spilled was the greatest joke ever told.

Ardgit, the other Black Orc was edging forward, restlessly. Standing still was not his way. He needed to get back into the action and fast. "Going to check the bridge," he called back over his shoulder as he swung aboard his mount and raced off.

A subtle shimmering announced the passing of Stheno, the Witch Elf as she slipped soundlessly past the group to scout. She was another who thrived in the heat of battle, all ferocity and sensual movement. The Dark Elf seemed almost ill at ease in the lulls between fights.

"Oi, I needs some beer," the small shaman next to her said in a thick dwarvish accent. He was holding a dwarf skull in one hand and grinning as he poured beer into it. Gartuk was known as a mighty battle healer, and either a tremendous prankster or a madman. He was always pretending to be the dwarf who's skull he held.

Kitta, the zealot laughed as she watched the beer spill out through the dwarfs teeth. The battle had been short, but quite fierce and it had been hard to keep everyone whole throughout it. She grinned fiercely in satisfaction at the thought that this time it was the enemy, those broken Empire soldiers and High Elven magic wielders that would feed the crows.

"Mount up, we are heading out," Xoc announced.

The ravens cried out their pleasure and the murmur of voices flooded over Kitta as she mounted and rode after the group.

It's never been so cold. The wolves! Two cups of flour and a handful of... It's time.

((this is a story of the Cabal, but I thought you might enjoy it))

May 2012

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