Gellman Bonegnaw knew he didn't have much time left.
Actually, when he'd listened to that damned shadow elf and spread the Chaos worship of Original Sin among his clan, King Bonegnaw had already felt uneasy. When he'd seen with his own eyes how the warriors, once tormented by the plague of the mind and stripped of all fighting spirit, had regained their wild bloodlust with the help of Chaos's power, that unease had eased somewhat.
But after several victories, when he saw his warriors growing ever stronger and ever more savage, to the point where they'd begun eating their own kind alive, his unease about his fate rose again.
More than twenty days ago, he'd personally executed a madman who'd tried to kill him. After striking him seven times without managing to kill him, he'd watched helplessly as the man grew a second head. That was when Lord Gellman knew—
He was completely screwed.
Although his army had surrounded several highlands and was launching devastating attacks on the Gorse Kingdom's people, making it look as though victory was theirs, Gellman Bonegnaw hadn't left his tent in seven days.
His situation wasn't much better than that of Marshal Loren on the other side.
He and his most loyal guards were trapped in this camp. They didn't dare venture outside, because the gnolls who'd become Chaos abominations looked at them the way they looked at food.
King Bonegnaw had lost control of the Chaos destroyers under his command.
The only reason those Chaos abominations were attacking the Gorse Kingdom's people now was that they wanted a good meal. After all, their rampage across the northern peninsula had left them with nothing edible.
Command them?
Ha. There was no commanding anything in this situation.
The shorty Loren was trapped by the enemy in