The Legend of Sigmar by Graham McNeill

Author:Graham McNeill [McNeill, Graham]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Epic, General, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 1849702268
Google: ik7aygAACAAJ
Amazon: 1849702268
Publisher: Games Workshop
Published: 2012-07-24T05:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Sigmar’s Justice

Normally the Brackenwalsch Marsh was a gloomy place of mist and shadow, but this day was glorious, the sun shining upon the waters like glittering shards of crystal. A cool breeze kept the temperature pleasant, and the aroma of late-blooming flowers and fragrant reeds perfumed the air with myriad pleasing scents.

The Hag Woman sat upon a fallen tree trunk, its mouldy bark alive with insects and thick with moss. Where others would recoil at such things or find them repulsive, she enjoyed the rich cycle of death and rebirth. As one thing died, it became a home to some creatures, a hatchery for others and food for yet more.

‘All things have their time,’ she said to no one in particular, watching as a raven settled on the low branch of a nearby tree. The bird cawed, the sound echoing over the deep pools and hidden pathways of the marshes.

‘What do you have to say this fine morning, bird of prophecy?’ she asked with a smile.

The bird regarded her with its onyx eyes, and hopped from foot to foot as it cawed again.

‘What am I to make of that?’ she asked. ‘I can no longer see the future, so I hoped you might spare me a shred of your knowledge.’

The bird cawed once more before taking flight. The Hag Woman watched it until she could no longer pick its form out in the sky. She shrugged and pushed herself upright with the help of her rowan staff. Her joints were stiff, and popped with the sound of snapping twigs. She winced, knowing that her forced levity masked the fear that had been gnawing at her ever since her powers had begun to fade.

The awakening of the necromancer in the Middle Mountains had heralded the decline of her power. She had fled from a terrible nightmare of a towering, monstrous evil arising from the desert, and had felt the spread of dark magic in the north like a growing cancer.

The malice of the dread sorcerer seeped into the earth like a poison, tainting the energies that flowed along its rivers and saturated the very air. Ever since that night, it took longer and longer for her spirit to unchain itself from her flesh, and soar on the winds of magic that drifted like oracle smoke from the earth. In her youth, she merely had to lie back and close her eyes, but now her spirit could not fly at all, no matter how hard she tried.

Without that freedom, she felt the ravages of time upon her physical form more than ever.

Worse was to come, for no sooner was her spirit confined to her body than the brimming vistas of possible futures that crowded her thoughts drifted away like guests from a feast, until she was utterly alone. Despite living a solitary existence in the Brackenwalsch, she had witnessed the great dramas of the world and had helped to shape their course.

Until now, that had been enough.

Before her powers vanished, she had followed the progress of young Sigmar as his empire grew and flourished.

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