Kaelen counted the chimes. Seven. The number of Nurgle. The number of years the mist had held.
Tomorrow, he would break the count. Or it would break him. return of reckoning
“Then we use it,” Kaelen said. “Twenty of us. Dwarfs, men, whatever souls are mad enough to follow. We bypass his army and shatter the ritual. Without the Rotfather’s blessing, his followers will turn on each other within a day.” Kaelen counted the chimes