Rise of the Mad King, Gorepuppet
The prophecy felt a weight on the Sage's back. There was a time when he had thought it a blessing, a Great Gift that he would be the one to herald the return of Gorepuppet, the Great King, and bring the Shire of Worcestershire back from the Hold of Chaos and the Hand of Ruin.
But this was the seventieth tomb he had searched in as many full moons, and, still, Gorepuppet could not be found.
It was just by chance that, searching the tomb of a freshly slain foe, strands of pearls (entrails) and bags of gold (kidneys) trickling through his fingers, that he came upon the Mad King's essence.
It was glorious. He wrapped his fingers around it, feeling the power surge. And, very carefully, he stretched his hand up and pivoted his wrist and looked into the solemn (tasty) eyes and bronzed (freshly gnawed) skin of his lord.
"My King," rasped the Sage.
"Gurgle, shlurp, squelch," proclaimed King Gorepuppet.
But this was the seventieth tomb he had searched in as many full moons, and, still, Gorepuppet could not be found.
It was just by chance that, searching the tomb of a freshly slain foe, strands of pearls (entrails) and bags of gold (kidneys) trickling through his fingers, that he came upon the Mad King's essence.
It was glorious. He wrapped his fingers around it, feeling the power surge. And, very carefully, he stretched his hand up and pivoted his wrist and looked into the solemn (tasty) eyes and bronzed (freshly gnawed) skin of his lord.
"My King," rasped the Sage.
"Gurgle, shlurp, squelch," proclaimed King Gorepuppet.
This post has been updated on the campaign! 1 warscroll painted for the Death Alliance! Thank you.
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