Kaathe shifted uncomfortably.

His hands were bound behind his back and a hood pulled over his head,
covering his face. He could hear the muffled cough of others around him
but couldn't hazard a guess as to the number. He sat on a bench in the back
of a slow moving covered wagon. That he had chosen to be there didn't make
him any less nervous.

He took a deep breath and pushed down his reservations. His dreams had
led him here, Chaos would embrace him and act through him. He simply had
to trust in Chaos and he would be rewarded.

He thought back to his final days as a disciple, when the time had come for
him to decide which Lords path he would follow. His master had tried
to encourage him toward The blood god and had little good to say about his
choice.

"Nurgle? Blood and rot! His priests crawl about on half legs,
plague-ridden. Take steel in hand and shed blood for Lord Kharim or you've
wasted my time!"

He had persisted and eventually been given a cold, remote cross-roads to
wait at. In the dark hours of morning, An old nag had pulled a worn
covered wagon up to him. A robed figure had jumped down from the back and
after some rough treatment, he had found himself in his current
position.

The wagon had been lurching steadily through the night long enough that
the rhythm had lulled him into a half-sleep. When it finally came to a
halt, he jerked awake. In the ensuing silence, he heard quiet sobbing from
someone else in the darkness. It seemed that not all of the occupants
were here voluntarily.

Still with head covered, he was urged from the wagon, which he managed with
as much grace as he could. He could tell he was outside from the scents of
earth and trees but little more. In time, he was urged to his feet
and led off into the darkness with shuffling steps. From the sounds of
violence, others had needed more encouragement.

Dirt underfoot gave way to stone steps and he found himself descending into
the earth. Hands found his shoulders and he was pushed to the floor. Then
nothing. Quiet mumbling and the shuffling of feet but nothing else.

Then screaming. Kaathe`s heart started racing. The screaming rose in pitch
to the point of being deafening. It grew more frenzied, panicked then
finally stopped. In the ensuing quiet, Kaathe could hear low chanting
coming from behind him.

He felt hands fall upon his shoulders and lift him to his feet. Panic
seized him.

"THis is a mistake! I'm a follower of chaos! I want to.. give myself
to NURglE! "

He was forced forward, blindly. His left foot found the edge of a pit.
He tried to recoil but the hands holding him refused to give.
His hood was finally withdrawn, and before him he saw a writhing
sunken pool. Though it held some water, it was teeming with a
multitude of worms and insects. He could see the surface undulating
with the masses beneath it. He also saw bones, many bones.

"Nurgle awaits."

Whispered the figure holding him, and he felt himself falling forward.
His screams echoed in the chamber as he plunged below the surface. He
thrashed desperately, choking on worms. Insects burrowed into his skin
in at least a dozen different points. His eyes, his ears, the pain
was excruciating. Amidst the horror and the agony, He felt something
touch his mind. It was all-encompassing and unfathomable. His sense
of self was lost in its vastness. Pain slipped from his awareness
as his mind briefly touched the essence of a god.

His mind slowly reasserted itself. He realized he was on the edge of
the pool, being helped from the waters by two robed figures. They led
him to a rough stone altar, and let him collapse to his knees before it.

He looked down at his hands and saw a mutlitude of wounds and bites
across his skin. Worms hung from his flesh, still trying to burrow
beneath the surface. Strangely, he felt no pain. He felt aware of
every insect within his body. He opened his mouth and felt
dozens of maggots twisting within. His tongue was gone, as was his eye.
Strangely, his vision seemed unaffected.

His scattered mind became aware of chanting and a strong voice coming
from behind the altar.

"...is Blessed with the gifts of chaos. Nurgle rests within you now.
Obey his will, and his gifts will grow. Betray him and he will devour you
from within. "

Hands helped him to his feet. He felt renewed strength within his legs
despite the larvae within.

"Rise brother, and welcome to the order of Nurgle"