#39 Legend of the Cinquefoil

The flames of the campfire danced in the eyes of the crooked old man. His listeners watched him with lazy wariness. Experienced travellers that they were, they knew they must ever be on their guard, but this visitor to their camp seemed harmless enough. He had given them his name - Viktor Bract - and simply asked for food and shelter in exchange for a tale to amuse them.

Viktor eagerly accepted the sandwich that was passed to him, juices dripping into his trembling outstretched hands. "My thanks," he smiled through rotten teeth. Discreetly, he inspected the meat and took a bite. "Spleen?" he asked approvingly.

His host grunted and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Bract swallowed a mouthful and began his tale:


* * *

"Long, long ago a boy was born. Even as he lay at his mother's breast, he was visited by three mages who raised their voices in unison to speak a prophecy over the manchild:

With petals five
But petals all shall fall.
When petals reunited are
Then blooms the grave cinquefoil.

His parents named him Gulaab Kaphool and he grew up to be a devout and holy man. He worshipped a pantheon of five gods whom he believed offered the perfect balance for the mortal realms: Sigmar, Alarielle, Tyrion, Grungni and Nagash. In their names, he performed miracles and was revered by his community as a Holy Man.

His family was noble and wealthy and he was also raised to be a warrior lord. He amassed a great army to protect the weak, subdue the forces of chaos and promulgate the worship of his chosen pantheon. 

Sigmar, Alarielle, Tyrion and Grungni were pleased by his devotion, but Nagash was not. Jealous for his worship, Nagash visited Gulaab Kaphool and demanded he worship him alone. Gulaab refused, confessing his soul's equal devotion to all five of his beloved gods. In response to this hubris, Nagash declared he would shatter Gulaab's soul and claim its fragments for himself.

Nagash did as he had threatened but, such was the perfect equality of Gulaab's faithful devotion to his pantheon, his soul split into five parts, each loyal to a different god. Nagash was only able to claim the portion faithful to him. This he wrenched from Gulaab's body and made a wight, bound to serve the god of death for all eternity. 

In his jealous rage, Nagash also slaughtered Gulaab's entire army, raising them as deathrattle soldiers and granting their allegiance to the new wight king. He then instructed a guardian to watch over him lest this fifth-part of Gulaab Kaphool's soul should ever stray from the exclusive worship of the Supreme Lord of the Undead.

Finally, Nagash mockingly corrupted the wight's name, relabelling him 'Gulaab the Fool'. Ever accompanied by his eternally faithful army the Lost Thorns, he is the bitterest and most resentful of creatures. His incomplete soul eternally rages at the cruelty of Nagash, yet is forced to serve him.

As for the other four fifths of his soul, the King of Thorns knows not whether they escaped Nagash, nor what became of them..."

* * *

The travellers shivered as Viktor finished his chilling tale. Outside their warm circle of firelight, the night's temperature had dropped. The very wind seemed to whisper the name 'Gulaab the Fool'. They shrugged their furs up to guard against the chill on the backs of their necks. 

But their furs offered no protection as the cold daggers of the Lost Thorns slid silently between their vertebrae...

#40 THE TRINITY OF THE THREE-PETALLED ROSE

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