Badr was feeling uneasy. Since joining the coven, she’s been trying to not use necromancy. But sometimes life is not giving you a choice…
Her chamber was lit only by the weak light of candles. On the table in the middle of the room a morbid trophy was lying – the head of a Tzaangor shaman slain a few days ago by Vaska. Badr started drawing a ritual circle around it and chanting words she learned long ago from her sire. Amethyst mist started slowly surrounding the head…
Suddenly, the head opened its eyes and inhaled all the mist. It opened its beak and said with a weak voice:
“What do you want from me, sorceress…? Why did you bring my soul back from the Crystal Labyrinth…?”
Badr had to be careful. Followers of Tzeentch were usually well versed in arcane arts. Who knows what a Tzaangor Shaman could do, even in this state. She calmly asked: “I need answers. What are the Templars doing here? What is your goal?”
The head chuckled faintly. “What could the noblest servants of the Changer of Ways be doing on Khornate territory? Why, we’re trying to destroy the Desraki Dominion, you fool! We’re bringing hope to those oppressed by those bloodthirsty maniacs!”
“Spare me your lies, beast! Burning Templars helping the innocent? No, you plan something equally terrible for those people and we’re going to stop you!” shouted Badr. She clenched her fist and immediately amethyst vines wrapped around the Tzaangor’s head. “Tell me the truth or I’ll show you that even the undead can suffer!”
“Foolish amateur!” the head shouted with much more strength in its voice than before. Its eyes flashed with blue flames. A wave of arcane energy shattered the vines and knocked Badr down. “Your childish tricks mean nothing to someone blessed by the Architect of Fate! No one’s going to stop us! We will free those people and show them the Ninefold Path. Help them make their own fate!”
“But do you really?”
“Huh?”
“Do you really think you’re helping them make their own fate? Doesn’t your kind believe that only Tzeentch can control it? The way I see it, you are not granting freedom to the slaves of Desraki. You merely change their owner. They deserve more. Let me tell you something – we’re going to save them. From Desraki. From you. From anyone who would like to control them!” shouted Badr and snapped her fingers. Shaman’s head exploded with a purple flame leaving only ashes.
Badr collapsed into her chair with a loud sigh. This did not go well. She wasn’t closer to figuring out Templar’s plan than before.
Then, the door to her chamber opened with a bang. It was Vaska accompanied by a man in black armour.
“Badr, I would like you to meet Andreas Prospero. One of the mercenary commanders that worked for Desraki…”
