The screams split the fetid air of the Dark Swamp deep within the Central Fire of Praetoria. They were a ghostly echo that haunted him, a punishment for the lives he had just taken. Stumbling toward a fallen tree, he slumped down onto the rotten wood and covered his ears. He tried to silence the screams, but one cannot shut out what is already in your head. So the shrill cries of death continued. He looked around for a distraction to his nightmare, but there were only the faces of the slaughtered glaring back at him, staring with judgment through glazed and empty eyes.  —From Repercussions, an entry in the Tome of CHAOS