Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

A wide wooden table, darkened by a sanguine substance stood in the center of cave, the ground flattened via grinding, space expanded into a large semi-sphere, chains and ropes holding fresh carcasses, strips of flesh left to dry up, some left above small fires, smoke washing over them, sausages, ham, blood sausages, jugs of blood, jars of grounded bones, neatly piled osseous matter, all possible body parts under every form and shapes they could possibly take on.

This cave actually had built in chimneys, one wall in particular had been smoothened perfectly flat, a collection of tools lined up, some forged out of iron, some carved out of stone, some out of wood, a few even fashioned from bones, this entire space was a slaughter house and kitchen all in one, one could butcher and immediately prepare the food.

Grabbing what looked like a spoon, the expert butcher gouged out both eyes from the would-be menu, quickly putting them in a jar filled with liquid alongside other of such eyes, grinning and licking all teeth at the container brimming with perfectly preserved eyeballs.

The meal's clothes had been thrown into a pile away from the rest, it would make for good material to fashion more clothing, making an incision upon the abdomen, applying superb strength to solely slice the skin and abdominals without even grazing what laid beneath, cutting a square shape out of the flesh, allowing for full access to the guts and organs, all great materials for scrumptious meals and snacks, but of course.

"Ah, you fools really never think about emptying yourselves before getting killed? Barbarians!" laughing by herself, Derdlim Maulerd used her bare hands to move to entrails, making sure to move waste away from the limits of said guts before cutting them loose, pushing the dung out like one might try to squeeze water imbibed in a towel, careful not to rupture the precious guts in the least.

Stringing it up, grabbing an unsuspectedly complex tool, used to push water through the passageway of all that was better left in a cesspit, away from sight, the butcher was well-used to such filth by now.

Leaving the intestines on their own for now, she moved on to the removal of all other organs, all were especially useful for the preparation of both feasts and meals, feasts being the most prominent of the two, as it allowed for one to permanently grow stronger and integrate aspects of the food, meals were what the warqueen had kindly offered to her fellow lords, which were all temporary but always showed much greater results in this short time.

Devouring organs typically allowed for herself and her people to enhance their own, which was why reproductive organs were quite in demand.

"Aah, what a shame Alisart, you would be quite surprised at how fertile I would be, I am certain!" laughing to herself as she carved out the lungs, the art of growing more powerful by feasting was not discovered by her, but she was the one to have perfected it into something more refined, eating directly from corpses was fine every once in a while, but they weren't beasts and it showed, when utilising their capabilities to cook the meat and prepare exquisite food, the effects were always greatly enhanced.

And she had eaten that guy anyways, so all his achievements were hers now, this was law in the Eastern Peaks, and right now, Derdlim was taking apart a fool who thought that it was a good time to challenge her rule, a youngling that had grown irrational after feasting just a bit, the exhilaration of acquiring power was a treacherous one, easy to fall into the belief that you became unstoppable.

Such a weakling did not require the use of her cleaver, which was nice, suffocating preys prevented damaging any good bits, such as the heart, this organ was an important one, but more important in the eyes of the feasters, splitting it open and adding fillings was especially nutritious, all other ingredients were elevated by the organ.

Kidneys, pancreas, stomach, liver, with much care, all were extracted and laid out on the table, after the organs, after the fun part, came the funny part, which was the cleaving of the body into piece, done at the junction between joints for the limbs, then cutting the head, although it was objectively a portion lacking in nutrition, she scalped the disembodied head, even the hair were to be consumed, and this entire body was solely for her as its former owner had vied for her position.

When one of her folks stepped upon the premise of the slaughtercave, all was done and ready to be prepared, bone marrow extracted, said bones grounded in fine dust, corpse skinned, strips of skin stretched thin in the air by hooks, blood taken out, the warqueen was humming a nice tune as she debated what to prepare exactly, all the cooking pots and kitchen stencils already out.

Compared to the queen, this feaster looked rather small.
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Maulerd was dressed in simple brown pants, rather baggy, boots fashioned from hard leather, around the chest, only a simple piece of tissue only covering the breasts, and of course, the titular butcher apron that she never let go of as far as anyone was aware, so one was free to behold the ungodly muscular of Derdlim's arms and back, brought about by devouring and cannibalism.

"Is something the matter?" untying her long auburn hair, she asked the stunned feaster.

"Chief, smoke signals from the north" he quickly said.

"Show me" she commanded, but actually took the lead, blasted in the face by the sun's light, she immediately saw said signal.

A light snort escaping the warqueen.

"Huh, Combuscrus is calling for another meeting, so soon?" muttering to herself, shutting the door to her cave.

"Gartran! Bring your ass over here!" calling for her right hand man, who quickly appeared, running up the mountain's path like a gorilla.

The Eastern Peaks were jagged and treacherous, the people of Derdlim Maulerd had all taken residence upon this, and surrounding peaks, living in caves as living outside left the exposed to the dragons that inhabited the region, that was not correct, they were the ones supposed to hunt them, not the opposite, especially since they made for most scrumptious feasts.

She herself had eaten a fair bit of them, and was always looking forward to the next, grabbing her cleaver, alongside Gartran, she went onto her way to the designated place that had been decided for the four regional lords to meet, rather curious what could have made the reclusive pyromancer call for such a thing of his own volition.

"Will you attempt to catch the knight king, my lord?"

"Of course! Do you see any of the other two sticks not breaking if mating with me? Not to mention that those two reek of their supposed right hand warriors! Unbelievable, real savages… Why do you look sad now? Are you hungry?"

"No, my lord"

"Good, I need to arrive in advance to get a hold of Alisart without the others around, heheheh…" chuckling at the thought of her unrefined plan, Gartran could only exhale as he followed after his queen.