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Jute Wasteland

The sky rippled with the heat of the mid-day sun, the circling vultures shimmered, becoming wraith like shadows awaiting a hearty feast.

 

The two hosts were formed up opposite eachother across a dry river bed. They were alike in their savage appearance, fur and leather armoured d’verg, their ranks pulsing with constant movement, constant noise. Painted faces, greased beards and hair, filed teeth. In diametric opposition stood serried ranks or cataphractii, war golems resplendent in their makers house colours.

 

In a bone palanquin in the centre of the Flesh cadre forces sprawled Silver-Tongue, his augmented vision took in his foes disposition and relayed it with a thought to his likewise craefted commanders. He looked down to where stood Bludnut, naked bar her wode and dirt, serrated axes clenched in wire bound fists. Her remaining eye was fixed on him.

 

He smiled at her. “Ahhh, my filthy little creature, go my child, lead your warwhores, bathe in their entrails and drink of their blood.”

 

The she berserker howled with glee, this was taken up by the churning mass of female Dverg that began to storm towards the foe.

 

The Flesh Augmentor smiled again.

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