The End and the Death:
a tale of the Sanguinary Utnapishtim.

“You did the right thing calling us” said the woman dressed in the scarlet and black of the Sisters of Violent Death. “So often people wait until its too late, and there’s nothing we can do to stop a peaceful death.” She spat on the floor.

“She wouldn’t want that” said Emmehaudula. “Mother dreams of the eternal struggle by the river of blood.”

“Is the honored one prepared? Have you made your farewells?”

“Yes. She’s excited about your coming. She’s been practicing with the knife for the last few days.”

“Excellent” Sister Morferra replied. “We provide our own knives if necessary, but it’s better that she’s working with a weapon she’s familiar with.”

Emmehaudula nervously led Sister Morferra into her mother’s room. “Mother, this is Sister Morferra. She’s come for the Good Death.”

The old woman snarled. Good, thought Sister Morferra, it was so much better when they put up a real fight. The mission of the Sisters of Violent Death was that the old and sick die fighting, in a manner pleasing to the Lord of Slaughter, rather than being passively sacrificed, or, worse, dying without any accompanying violence at all, giving the victory to the Second Impediment.

The killing was a delicate matter. Khorne rightly despised those who did not go all out in a fight, but it made the death so much better if the honored one drew blood as well. Over time, the Sisters had evolved a lethal style of fighting that at the same time left openings for their opponents. Sister Morferra was a master, and had the scars to prove it.

The honored one actually went on the offensive, making things easier. Sister Morferra went for her throat in a way that left her arm vulnerable to a counter blow.Both knives met their targets.

Sister Morferra, bleeding lightly from the wound on her arm, looked down on the corpse of the honored one. “Her eyes on the river aeternal; her skull to adorn the Throne” she chanted.

It was a Good Death.