Champion of Tzeentch

Chapter 5

Cord Oelberg began to wake, he felt different, more determined and with a purpose, he knew who he was once more, no longer a lonely wizard hidden in his cottage but now, now he was a force to be reckoned with, he was Cord Oelberg Champion of Tzeentch and he did not need to skulk his way to the Chaos wastes for petty squabbles he had a greater aim.

Cord stood and the registered a blow to his head, he opened his eyes and looked for his attacker, then looking down he realised he was taller than everyone else, he closed his main eye and looked through his crown, the top of his head was a few inches from the roof of the cave. He reached up with his left hand and felt three horns protruding from his brow; these were what he'd caught on the roof. He reached to his sword belt and unclasped it, somehow the belt had survived his growth.

"Did you watch me all night?" he asked 'Spike', the beastman was still opposite him staring at him in awe.

"Yeh" 'Spike' replied in an animal grunt

"What happened?" Cord asked

"Tzeentch...you changed" The answer was basic with grunts mixed in.

"this is for you due to your vigilance" Cord handed the beastman his chaos sword, he hadn't drawn the blade as yet but knew it would be better suited in the beastman's hand. Cord was not a skilled swordsman but 'Spike' seemed to be, "no matter his heritage" Cord thought to himself. 'Spike' took the sword and bent down on one knee in sub-service to Cord.

"Rise, you have served me and Tzeentch well and you should be rewarded" Cord told him "Now we eat and then move on, we have a new destination in the mountains" Cord reached out and put his hand on 'Spike's' shoulder, "You are my second in command, take a hunting party and lead. Do you have a name?"

"I once did" 'Spike' replied sounding more human than ever. Cord saw something in his eyes then, he wasn't sure what, regret possibly but something.

"I shall refer to you as 'Second' from now on. Now take some men and get breakfast." Cord smiled at him and gave a nod in the direction of the cave entrance. 'Spike' moved off pointing at two of the orcs and then grunted to two of the beastmen. They trotted out of the cave in a loose group, 'Spike' or 'Second' leading the way followed by the two orcs and then the beastmen close on their haunches. The beastmen didn't fully trust the orcs but they worshipped Tzeentch and that was enough to stop any real violence before it started, but not the animosity completely.

Cord reached back to collect his staff, but it was no longer there. He turned while ducking low and his wing tips brushed something and it fell to the floor with a resounding metallic clang.

"Da stik change t'blade, no stik 'ere" an orc said over Cord's shoulder, he didn't even acknowledge the statement he was too interested in the sword that thrummed with the power of Chaos, his reading had told him about these rare and dangerous artefacts, the stylised dark tongue runes pulsed and glowed in time with the Tzeentch crystals now on the scabbard, guard and pommel. He reached his hand out to the blade and he could feel it almost sing to him to grasp it and wield it. Now he was certain it was a daemon blade, forged from an unknown metal from within the centre of the realms of chaos, a daemon bound within the blade and able to transfer its skills and powers to the user for the taste of blood. Once drawn from the scabbard the blade must taste blood, and that could be the user's if they did not succeed to kill in battle. Cord forced himself to take hold of the scabbard, the will power from the sword was immense and the daemon within must have been so also, cord stood, stooping due to the cave and pointing with sheathed sword at the nearest of his retinue which happened to be the orc that had spoken.

"Do this belt up so the blade is for my left hand, and do not touch the sword" Cord ordered

The orc meekly walked up and began to fasten the belt around cord's waist, it was the light scratch of a claw that made him aware he was not wearing anything on his torso his robes were hanging in tatters around his waist as a strange kilt. He made no move to cover himself, he couldn't feel the weather, he should have been cold after a night in a cave and no sunlight had reached him but he realised his blood must be running warmer since he was now part flamer and slowly moving closer to Daemonhood. The orc strapped the belt tight and moved back, Cord nodded to him and moved out of the cave, standing to his full height he'd guessed he'd be about eight and half feet tall now, maybe even nine including his horns. He glanced down where the flamer arm attached to his body, the leathery magical matter it was composed of spread in tendrils through his upper chest and shoulder traces his normal muscles. The sword on his hip thrummed with magic, the right arms teeth snapped and flame spittle dropped to the floor as he flexed his magical and flesh muscles. He was ready, he glanced at the Middle Mountains through the tree's mossy canopy, he'd heard rumours and read stories about a temple in the mountains, a giant pyramid hidden between the peaks, each facing dedicated to one of the great four, the sacred chamber at the base was said to give great power to a true believer and Cord knew he was, all doubt had left him.