# The last day.



## Broguts (Jul 15, 2009)

Here is a ballad that I have written for my main chaos antagonist in the soon to be re-made "The plauge of Ostermark." for your viewing pleasure. 



Twas the last day before the end, the day that we would die. The day he would come down from the hills with a thousand men, their blackened hearts, their blood red eyes. His name we will never forget, he was; Ranulf, the murderer. His army dead, his face red, he set out find revenge, what he found instead was a ticket to hell, at the hands of the screaming bell. But this was years after our deaths, years after the attack.

We were in the tavern enjoying a cold drink, when we heard yelling and screaming in the streets, we heard sounds of slashing meats, we had no idea as to what to greet. On the day that we would die, the day that our mothers back in Rottberg would cry. We wished we had never settled here, on this gloomy outskirt of the county. No man could stop what came nor could it ever be the same again, on the morn of the day we would die.

Ranulf lead his men into our cozy den, and lit the tavern aflame in unholy fire. He shouted and bellowed, "Not a single breathing fellow, shall escape this rotted willow, on this cold day in the morn!" What came in was no mere man as he slaughtered the whole land, with his army devoted to Khorne, never, ever shall we forget that morn, when he blew his war horn, and tore us limb from limb.

The moral of this story is to never, ever, ever, trifle with chaos, or you too will, on some cold winter morn, be torn from all you love and hold dear.

the end.


Well that was morbid, I will try not to have depressing shit like that too much.


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