A lone stagg. Grazing between trees and sticks on a fine summers morning, scurries off as the sound of children playing come alittle too close for the seasoned bulls comfort. The children play on the edge of the forrest too young to be fighting and too old too be helping. The mothers and widows go about their day, stictching their linnen, washing their clothes, prepairing the food for the 'After sun gone' feeding. The eldars of the herd, the very few of them that there are. Are training the young rams for the ravages of battle. Less drilling and more scolding mistakes, wraping their staffs and walking sticks around skulls and wrists for mistakes all while imparting knowledge on how to look for openings and create them. The bucks were out of the encampment, out on hunting duty or war bands. The Shaar'ram of the village was inside his hut as always. The most elaborate structure in the encampment, acrid smoke seeming to pour endlessley out of the buildings roof day and night, which would change colour and transpericy depending on whatever the alchamist was working on at the time. The herd didnt ask questions nor interfeired with the goings on of the mysterious workings of the village magic worker. The encampment consisted of low laying straw hutts. Two to three wood and dried mud buildings and dotted with camp fires for different purposes. Boiling water for cleaning here, cooking food over by the more sturdy buildings there, one was dotted and lined with stumps and large logs worn smooth from the many feasts and rituals held around the main bonfire locaited towards the centre of the village.  

   The Kar'Thul are a traveling war race. They could be found anywhere there could be conflict, but prefered the open planes and grass lands to the north just before the dense forrest known to all as 'The Jaws'. For most who passed through 'The Jaws' were assumed eaten alive and never too be seen again. Still, there was game for food in these woods and if you didnt venture too far in, you could still make your way back without too much trouble. The Kar'Thul, hard from the start of their war ravaged lives. Massive build of stature, taller at thier 12th sun cycle than most humans will ever reach. Their bodies covered in a hard thick leathery skin and patched with hair on the forearms and shoulders. Goat like faces with wide set eyes, good for seeing a much larger peripheral field of view on the battle field. Horns protruded from a thick base out the side of their massive skulls, curling backwards and around too the front so as to be able to cause as much damage while raming an enemy or a challanger for dominance. Battle acheivements are the only things that matter to this race. If they dont kill 12 enemies in their first month of battle, bringing back each skull for rituals, and trophies for their battle garments. Then they couldnt challenge anyone at the next 'Meeting of horns'. The ritual where they challenge eachother in un-armed combat too the death or untill submission too the right to mate with the strongest and most beautiful women. If they win enough in the rituralistic fights they may have mulitple women and if they are so brave as to challenge the herd leader, and win. Then they command the entire war band and get the most feed. War to this race; is everything. 

   Screaming. Panic. Fear. The children were sprinting back and scrambling over eachother and boundary markers. The women scurried to grab their children and ask what was wrong. One of the mothers was still looking, panic growing in the cries and bleeting calls for her child that didnt come back with the others. They retreated a way back to the confiends of the village just as the eldars and warriors in training arived to investigate the comotion. Thats when the lone stagg stumbled in to the clearing from the forrest, its movements were jagged, and it stumbled awkwardly as if a puppet on stiff strings, being controled by a mind that wasnt its own. But this stagg wasnt like anything any of the Kar'Thul had seen come out of 'The Jaws' before. This one was coated, completely encompassed in a shiney, deep black, tar like substance. Even the antlers were coated in the stuff. All except for one, which was glistening a deep red. The blackness was dripping off the stagg in to puddles on the ground. The hoofs left behind a black tar print in the ground with every step, leaving behind a trail that looked like a sickness on the land. The only part of the staggs being that wasn't coated in the black sickness. Was the eyes. The eyes were completley white, glowing brightly in stark contrast to the rest of its entirety. 

The stagg progressed slowley in its unnerving stuttered movement, towards the herd. The young warroirs gripping their blunted and chipped training swords and axes in hands that were shaking with aprehension and excitement of a chance to prove themselves against an unknown foe. The mother that was wailing for her kin was still in a panic, running between buildings in search of her child. She came behind the building that was facing the sickened stagg. Her new angle on the situation revealed her kin laying dead just outside the clearing of trees. Her breath caught in her lungs, her throat closing, ever tightening. Stiffling a cry and the inability to draw breath. Then she noticed something. At first she thought she was seeing things. She thought she saw a shadow break off from the trees own shadow and move of its own accord. An oozing, rolling shadow that was moving towards her kins lifeless body. Leaving behind a shiny black trail from where it had come from deep within the forest. It reached the boy and enveloped his limp form completley. Covering the child and moving internaly as if inspecting and processing what its found. If the child wasnt dead before. He was surely suffocaited now; or drowed. All of a sudden the moving lump moved off the boy and shot suprisingly fast from the ambling movements of the Stagg and the slow oozing progression of it previously. Leaving behind the corpse, coated completley in the thick sticky tar like substance. Then as the mother was falling to her knees wide eyed. She managed to finally draw a breath. Only to stare screaming towards the forest. As right then, just as the thought of loosing her kin had struck home. The body moved. Slowley. Unnervingly. Getting up off the ground as if controled by someone, or something else. First snapping its elbow up and planting it on the ground to gain purchase. Then a leg shot up and bent backwards planting a good on the ground. It stood up in a way that would be physically impossible. However he reached his feet and started that staggered, jolting shamble that was the same manner the Stagg moved in.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Her scream roused the Stagg from its dead eyed progression on the rest of the herd. It turned towards to screaming women. Snapping its head in the direction so fast it may have broken its own neck with the speed of the movement. It reard up and started running towards the woman who was still starting wide eyed, open mouthed at her dead child as he turned towards her. His eyes glowing white, but she could tell it was looking right at her, with no recognition of who she was or what he meant to her. The boy started to shamble towards her staring blankley in her direction. Just as the woman drew breath and started to scream again. She was cut off by the charging stagg. Run through by the antlers and trampled in to the earth, twitching from muscle memory dying. 

The stagg was dead eyed, rampaging through the encampment. Dipping its head and throwing the straw hutts like tossing bales of hay. Knocking over the boiling water and kicking through the fires throwing embers and logs high in to the air. Fire seemingly having no effect on it what so ever. Turning back on to the group of young worriors who were trying to cut it off and get its attention. It charged head long at the first living thing it saw. Bowling him over and the next 3 warriors behind him without even slowing. All the while leaving behind a trail of the blackness that seemed to be searching for the next hoof print, looking for itself trying to connect with the familiarity of its own being. The blackness left behind on the corpses doing the same after what seemed like a lump hidden under the sickness shot back in to the forrest. The Shaar'ram seeing this ran back inside and the sound of shuffling feet and clinking glass would have been heard if it werent for the screaming children, woman and war cries of the warriors. One by one, two by two the ozzing black glistening stagg ran through the enhabitants with sheer disregard for itself and anything around it. Seasoned warrior Rams left behind to defend the village stood no chance. But fought valiantly. Breaking the Staggs legs and wounding it only for the blackness or ooze over the wound and broken bones an seemingly mending them on the run. The last of the eldar warriors emerged from his hutt with a massive two handed broad sword. Limping from many wounds and age. The old warrior made his way as fast as he could towards the stagg that had sewn complete havoc and ruin to his family and herd. The only structures left was that of the Shaar'ram and his own. Infact the only two living beings left were him and the old alchamist, who was emerging from his dwelling holding a phial, containing a light blue liquid that was swirling and intwining within itself. 

The stagg was encircling the encampment, staring dead eyed in to the burning wreckages, looking for anything else is could kill or destroy. Out of the smoke came limping the elder ram. Dragging his sword in the earth behind him exhaustadly. The stagg stopped in his tracks, locked games with the Ram. Dripping the blackness in pools that were spreading out as if sentient. Searching for another pool of its own making to grow bigger and cover as much as it could with itself. The stagg started to run tilting its head to land a killing strike with its antlers that had killed so many already. The old warrior tried to step out of the way but was too slow. He managed to cut a fatal would across the staggs breast just by the sheer weight of the blade and the speed and force of the beast coming towards him. Fatal for a normal stagg. But this one stopped and looked confused for a moment. As if it was processing something, something new, something it hadnt experienced before. Then the wound started to close with an oozing completeness of itself. The warrior however fell face first in to the blood soaked, black stained grass. His side was ripped open by the charge and had infact had part of the antlers broken off in his rib cage. 

Then the Shaar'ram rounded the corner as the stagg was seemingly discovering how to heal itself. He raised his staff adorned with stripps of blood staied cloth, skulls from faries, claws from ruugas, and a number of other parts from creatures that only a select few would be able to identify. Started to recite an enchantment over the blue glowing liquid. The stagg snapped his head towards the sound. Started to rear up and charge. The Shaa'ram spoke quicker, concerntraiting on the stagg and his words harder than he has done for years. His eyes shot wide open. He had ran out of time. The stagg dipped his head and threw the alchamist high in to the air, he landed hard just meters away from the old warrior who was breathing his last breaths eyes open wide with the realisation of the coming void. But a smirk on his lips knowing the he would have an honourable death in battle, not the slow death of age and complaciencey. The Shaa'ram had somehow managed to hold on to the phial. After he realised this, he struggled to draw breath for his lungs had been punchured. But he managed to gasp out three last words. 

The contents of the phial glowed brilliantly, turning and intertwining within itself, it seemed to almost hum and vibraite in his hand. The stagg came in to his vision, looming above him. Raising a hoof to stamp on the skull and take the life force out of him. With his last gain of effort the Shaa'ramphand back and threw the phial and contents up towards the sickened stagg. The liquid made contact and the stagg recoiled completely. As if salt was thrown on a slugg. It shuttered and tossed, reared and stamped. The substance seemed to have frozen the thick tar like substance causing it to harden, frost over and cause the stagg pain. But after a time the frozen areas started to glisten again and the stagg stopped rearing. It turned to the Shaa'ram and was perceptiably seething. It reared up once more to bring its hoofs down for the killing blow. But all of a sudden the staggs head fell from its neck. Cleaved clean off by a broad sword. The eldar warrior had seen his chance while the stagg was writhing in pain. He summoned his last shred of essence and strength. Willed himself to stand up and grip his weapon one last time. With a mighty heave he lifted the heavy weapon. Just as the stagg was about to bring it's weight down on the Shaa'ram, the warrior let the blade fall, still in his grip. Using the weight of his body to carry it down as he fell dead on the spot. The effort proving too much for him to even see his strike land. 

The head rolled off to the side, while the body dropped limp and lifeless. Not even giving any death throws. The Shaa'ram watched in horror as the head and body melted and became a homogeneous mass and found eachother again. But his eyes widended even further as he watched the corpses of his herd melt away also. The blackness moved off, back towards the forrest, following its own tracks, collecting more of itslelf as it left but leaving behind a black mark on the land. Drying behind it. Killing the earth, making it infertile. Leaving nothing but destruction, despair, and death.