Tomorrow, he would break the count. Or it would break him.
Either way, the reckoning was coming home. return of reckoning
Elsbeth’s eyes narrowed. “You speak of a counter-offensive. With what army?” Tomorrow, he would break the count
“Then we don’t let him march.” Kaelen turned to Elsbeth. “You have spies in the Court. Tell me—where is the Rotfather weakest?” he clawed free three days later
He should have died. Instead, he clawed free three days later, half-blind, raving, his axe notched beyond repair. The dwarfs of Karak Kadrin had given him a new axe and a new name: Drengbarazi —the living dead.
Kaelen counted the chimes. Seven. The number of Nurgle. The number of years the mist had held.
