Command the unliving warhammer skin#
Command the unliving warhammer series#

The mummy moved its other arm, letting it fall to its side. As in life, so too in death did that knowledge elude him, straying almost within his very reach then dancing away once more. When had Nehb-ka-menthu last walked the earth? Had it been when he had mustered the dead hosts of his city, when he had set out to find the phantom tower of Nagash's disciple, the liche king Arkhan the Black, to ransack that place of darkest sorcery, to bear away its terrible secrets? Had it been when he returned in defeat from the dread city of Khemri and his attempt to force his way into the profane Black Pyramid of Nagash itself? As in life, so in death did Nehb-ka-menthu lust for the power of the dark magic. And yet how incredibly swift must such a motion seem to a body that had lain silent and still in the cool dark of its grave for hundreds of years? Slowly, so slowly that it did not seem to be moving. The mummy's right arm moved, falling from its chest to the side of the table. So it was that Nehb-ka-menthu had emerged from his tomb, to contest with his own ancestors for the rule of Khareops. The power had reached out and stirred other things from their ancient graves. The Accursed One had awoken once more, and the power of his black resurrection made itself felt across the carrion realm of Nehekhara. Was it months or aeons that he remained thus? But at last, the power had made itself felt across the Dead Lands once more. Like a spectator, he had watched as the liche-priests had prepared and embalmed his body, watched as the unliving priests, the only things in all Khareops that now walked the dead streets of the necropolis, bore his body in its golden sarcophagus to his pyramid tomb.įor some time he had remained within his tomb, detached from his body, detached from all thought, existing in the dark limbo of the dead.

The priest-king could recall the moment of his own death, and yet death had not been the end.

More memories rose within the desiccated husk of Nehb-ka-menthu. Nearby someone had drawn upon similar power, and he could feel the faintest echo of that tremendous act of evil.

Command the unliving warhammer skin#

Withered lids slid back from the dry hollows of the mummy's face, flakes of crusty decomposed skin scattering like sandy tears. It had been the Great Ritual, cast by the Accursed One so that he might reclaim his throne and rule over an empire of the dead. It had stilled the heart and sucked the breath of every living thing in Khareops. Of a great and powerful spell, a sorcerous apocalypse that had fallen upon Khareops, Numas and Khemri and all the great land of Nehekhara, which had in an instant robbed the most ancient kingdom of man of all life and vitality. Memory stirred, recollections of a time as parched and empty as the sands of the desert. How long had he slept the sleep of the tomb? Seven centuries? Ten?

A flicker of power had disturbed his dark dreams of dusty tombs and obelisk-lined necropolises. LIGHT SLOWLY INTRUDED upon the perpetual darkness, awareness slowly returned to the mind of the ancient sleeper. Brunner followed his gaze and found himself leaping back from the table, injured foot or no.Ĭarandini's voice returned in a wheezy groan. But he was looking at something else entirely. Carandini's eyes grew wide with fright, his sickly finger pointing accusingly at the bounty hunter. Whatever response the necromancer was going to voice died in his throat as a gasp of terror forced its way upward. 'Trust me, it's the best deal you're going to get.' Do that, and I'll give you five minutes before I come after you.' The bounty hunter took another menacing step around the long table. 'I'll destroy us both! Stop right there!'īrunner's voice was as flat and icy as any grave-born horror. Carandini cringed away from the killer's approach, straining to lift the glass vial still higher.

Command the unliving warhammer series#

'Because I need it to remove that ugly head of yours from its neck.' Brunner took another series of shuffling steps, rounding the long table. 'Why?' demanded Carandini, his eyes blazing with anger.