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The four Warriors made their way carefully down the slime covered floor of the temple. Buncard, the Imperial Noble, who's eyes darted into every crevice with trepidation, spoke ahead to the lantern bearing Warrior Priest. "This is your fault we're lost in this god forsaken Plague Temple, you realise. I should have you flogged when we return. You -" He felt a hand on his shoulder. The Barbarian Gragnar told his tale with his hard eyes. Buncard gulped and stayed silent.

Then chaos occurred. The vile stench of Plague Bearers assailed the four's nostrils, and hundreds of the creatures fell from the rafters onto the Warriors.

Two fell under the might of Salyvin, his mighty war hammer crushing their heads. After the initial revulsion of the chaos slime coating his purple trousers, Buncard drew his thin rapier and darted left and right in a desperate frenzy. The Barbarian's sword cleaved many in half.

But then the Warrior Priest cried in anguish, "A Great Unclean One!" He was instantly overcome by the Plague Bearers.

The Barbarian was next to fall, his face a twisted mask of agony as claws rendered his features.

"I say, now we're all doomed!" Buncard fought for an escape route, but he too was soon engulfed in the masses.

As the Imperial Noble fell, he looked desperately towards the shadows. There was one chance left.

A movement caught the Unclean One's eyes. The creature looked around him, his Plague Bearers joining the search.

Then, the Plague Bearers screamed, and began attacking each other. As flesh and bone was rendered, the bodies of the unconscious Gragnar, Buncard, and Salyvin rose from the ground, and in contorted movements, walked into the safety of the shadows.

A dark, cloaked form, a mighty scythe held firmly in one hand, stepped calmly from the shadows and moved through the mass of battling Daemons, until he was directly in front of the Great Unclean One.

The creature laughed, looking down at the pitiful form of the Mentalist.

No words were uttered from the Mentalist's lips, but none could mistake his meaning - "Death!"

At that moment, the Unclean One roared a roar that would send any normal man insane, and clasped his bulbous head in his hands. A battle was raged between his consciousness and his brain, but soon the creature found who triumphed.

The Great Unclean One passed into oblivion.

The Mentalist casually turned around, and headed for the shadows.

The other Warriors were waking from their state of unconsciousness. The Mentalist walked past them without stopping, projecting a single thought into their minds. "Come, there is treasure to be found."


Mentalist story by Michael Brockhouse.