The bloated Death Guard slowly ambled over to the an open veranda overlooking the gardens. Fronds of various forms of fungi filled the air. Dank black waters swirled below and clumped offal floated by. "Bring me my bike." commanded the Black Blow Fly. No sooner than his request had been made he turned to see his ancient rusted charger. His personal cadre of Death Guard veterans stood by silently waiting his command. "Armor up." commanded the Black Blow Fly. "There is much work to be done and so little time."
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