After weeks of marching and fighting through the vast forests of Yaramist they finally reached the glade and the arcane Occulum construct at its heart. With the secrets of star sphere just a few paces away the Skink Starpriest ordered the Saurus contingent to press on. Whether they were blinded by ambition, sense of duty or plain fatigue; the Seraphon had made a fatal mistake.
At first they didn’t notice it; how the birds all went silient as their feet touched grass of the ancient glade. But as the air froze and went eerily still they did. Their presence had triggered some eldrich magic. Day turned to night and the sun faded in a heartbeat. A blood moon rose, bathing the glade in its wicked light.
The dread moonlight revealed the truth of the glade. In the light glade’s green grass withered and died, leaving a battlefield of blood-drenched mud, stone and skulls in its place. The ground coiled and quaked in tremors as the restless and vengeful spirits of the countless dead that layed buried here, deep beneath the surface, were unleashed.
The Seraphon quickly found themselves surrounded by maligned spirits. A red-headed banshee, both horrible and beautiful at once, softly whispered “Death” as she reached for the Seraphon intruders. She kept repeating it over and over again, each time a little louder, until her otherworldly howl encompassed the battlefield. As a Saurus Warrior fell to the ground, frightened to death, the Tomb Banshee sunk her Chill Dagger into the heart of the Skink Starpriest.
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Yeah, more Age of Sigmar goodness.