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Clan Sparkle Fluff; just some short stories...
Topic Started: 17th June 2004 - 05:58 PM (1,064 Views)
Slai
Unregistered


Hey all. I just thought Id post some fluff. It seems abit long, perhaps, but its just several short stories =) . But if you dont want to read them, I really understand you =P .

Anyways, here goes:

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The reflections of light was nearly blinding as the High Elf warhost thundered over the plains. Chieftain Skraz shouted out commands to the furred masses surrounding him. His own section of Clan Sparkle, given to him personally by the Warlord Vinge.

Skraz viewed the knights that were rapidly approaching them. Whirling around, he ordered for the slaves to be brought forth in front of the clanrats. More shouting, and the Rat Ogres he had made his subservants create for him lurched into their place. Another command yelled out to his right, and the giant rats bred specifically for Clan Sparkle scurried forth.

"You are sure this will work, Chieftain?"

The voice was that of Warlock Engineer Gnist, Skraz' personal lifeguard, and the closest thing you could get to a "friend" in your lifetime. This did not nessicarily mean that Skraz trusted him. At all. It merely meant that Skraz did not have to kill him, as of now.

Gnist fondled a small device, encrested with warpstone, while murmuring something to himself.

"You just see to it that you do your part. Almost time now..." Skraz said, as the hooves thundering was growing louder and louder.

"NOW! FIRE!"

Sharp noises from the jezzails and the ratling guns filled the air. Gnist pointed his wierd wristblades at the riders and shot lightning towards them, killing many. More elves fell from the powerful blasts of the jezzail. Skraz smiled. Still, a considerable force of the elves were roaring towards the ranks of white fur in the front. He looked down at the slaves as huge bolts pierced their midst and massacred rank upon rank!

Suddenly the rain of bolts stopped. The tunneling team actually made it this time, Skraz thought, as he started shouting commands to his slaves who were at the brink of fleeing for their lives.

The elves reached their lines, slaying dozens upon dozens of furry slaves and warriors, all the while lightning ripped the air and jezzail shots mowed down elf upon elf. The rat ogres were let loose and started tearing the shiny clad elven warriors from their terrified steeds, wreaking havoc among the elven battleline. They were weak now. It had to be done now!

Skraz barked another command, and a wave of white furred clanrats swarmed the elves completely! Blood marred the clanrats as their brethren were being slain to the right and left. Yet even if the elves managed to slay tons of them, they were just too many, tearing down knights and horses and ripping their throats out with their bloodstained claws. This was going the right way. Warlord Vinge would be proud of him. This could very well be Clan Sparkles biggest victory so far.

In a minute it all changed. At the back of the skaven force, great eagles roared down from the sky, slaying jezzail team upon jezzail team. Elven chariots smashed into the ranks of the clanrats, mauling all who stood in their path. Darkclad elves streamed out from a nearby forest, fireing arrows into the Rat Ogres, felling them instantly. The musk of fear gripped Clan Sparkle and every living rat turned to flee, even Gnist!

Skraz shouted and screamed at them, shaking his blade resolute at the fleeing masses, yelling out threaths of everlasting pain to those who abandoned Clan Sparkle. Most of the clanrats seemed to gather themselves, and gathered infront of the remains of the elven cavalry again, who stormed at them with renewed faith. Gnist rallied his weapon teams, commanding the ratling guns near the blocks of clanrats. The guns roared as they fired round upon round into the gleaming knights racing towards them. The skaven braced themselves for defence as the battle lines clashed.

A bloody melee ensued. Skraz viewed the carnage from a slight distance, then he suddenly noticed five of the silver knights moving towards him, lances lowered. Skraz saw no way of escape, and drew his sword. Deftly avoiding the lances of the enemy, he drew one down fron his saddle, and thrust his sword into the bloodstained elfs throat. Dodging a blade aimed at his head, he span around, blade whirling in his hands, and slew another elf.

Lightning bolts struck into two of the remaining knights, scorching them. Skraz caught a glimse of a sneering Gnizt before he dodged another blade. The fool technowizard was actually trying to get him killed! This he would pay for later, Skraz though briefly. A sudden sting ripped his back. Incredible pain seared through his body. He threw himself around to face the remaining elf, who held his bloodied sword ready for another strike. Skraz lunged forward, attacking the elf, who in turn parried all of the blows he delivered. The blood felt warm running down, soaked up by the white, thick fur on his back. He pushed the pain away, concentrating on his opponent. The elf moved like a snake, fluid like water. Dodging attacks and dishing out attacks at a mindboggling pace. Skraz held his shield up infront of him, deflecting the elfs attacks, trying to figure out a way to get out of this alive. The elf was to fast and too nimble. Skraz opened his mouth wider. Sweat was oozing out of his tounge, and he needed the air. Deflecting another blow from the elf, the shield shattered, rendreing Skraz defenseless! The elf smirked, as he went in to a blur of attacks directed at the defenseless Chieftain.

Meanwhile, the rest of Clan Sparkle had recieved backup. Entire sections of Clan Sparkle had been en route at the start of the battle, yet their late arrival meant doom for Skraz' section, as most of his clanrats now were a bloody pulp. Clan Sparkle was pleased, and new warpstone mines were within reach. It had been a good battle for the clan, Warlord Vinge reckoned.

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The Tale of Vinge


Many years ago, in the small skaven colony named Tarink, there was a temple known only as the Temple of Abominations. In that colony, tales were told of the One who would come down to earth to challenge the Horned Rat. The One who would wreak havoc upon the lands of men and elves, slann and dwarf, and claim the word for the masses of skaven.

One cold winter night there was a flash of light and the whole temple started shaking violently. All of the habitans of the colony scurried out to view the ancient Temple of Abominations crumble to ruins before their very eyes. As the shaking stopped, and the dust settled, a sole figure stepped forth. It seemed like a normal rat, walking through the dust. A greyish lone rat. Then he came closer. And people noticed that his fur was white as the very snow that surrounded them, and his eyes were red as the fiery breath of Dragons. As the rat stood up tall, he seemed as tall as a man, maybe even taller! And from behind his back, white wings of feathers spread out majestically. His voice sounded like a roaring thunder as he spoke to the masses, proclaiming himself to be the Angel of Death, brought to this realm to slay the inferior races and bring forth the grandiose skaven society.

During the start of Vinges small, but rapidly expanding army, he was opposed by many of the smaller clans, striving for an edge over the other clans in the strife for survival and power. But Vinges Clan Sparkle prospered, and anyone who stood up against them were crushed down and slain to the last slave.

During one of the searching parties that Vinge was accompanying, his small warband came across a sleeping dragon, who probably had lain dormant for millennia. To get to the warpstone mines they were aiming to find, they would have to get past the dragon, yet they could not. As the entire army started opening fire and attacking the slumbering dragon, it awakened. Fire enveloped the furred masses as the dragon spewed flames around itself, killing rank upon rank of Vinges skaven. Then Vinge stepped forth, drawing his sword Mord, and attacked the mighty beast.
Vinge and the dragon fought for what might have been hours, with none of them gaining any edge over the other. The dragons fiery breath was dodged by Vinge, who cut and sliced at the dragon ineffectively.
Then the tide turned, as the dragon snapped at the Horned Rats nemesis. Vinge dodged the snap barely, but the dragon bit off his left wing. Injured and bleeding, the battle seemed lost for the skaven lord. But with a dimmed cold blue light, Mord shone, and it seemed like Vinge was filled with pure strength, as he plunged his mighty blade deep into the jaw of the dragon, piercing its head. The dragon roared and spasmed, before falling over with a thunderous crack. Vinge draw Mord out from the slain beast, and motioned the runners to get more miners. The warpstone mines were as of now Clan Sparkle property.

From there on out, his Clan Sparkle has grown at an alarming rate. Clan Mors and the remaining greater clans of Eshin, Moulder, Skryre, and Pestilens would have him destroyed if they could, as the Horned Rat is not particularly pleased with the growing of his nemesis. But the very sight of the white furred army under the fearsome leader Vinge is hardly anything any sane skaven would think of defying.

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Snow was falling heavily down as the High Elven scouting party hurried through the grand forests of Loren. The nine Shadow Warriors and the Silver Helm trotted at a fast pace, snow whirling around their feet.
The noble keept looking back over his shoulder, even though they surely had to have outrun their pursuers.
As he turned his head back to watch the path, he caught something in the corner of his eye. He signed for his retinue to halt.
His horse became uneasy and seemed as if he smelled something.. unpleasant. The knight soothed it with a whispered word and a gentle stroke across its mane.
They stood there for a long time. Still. Silent. Waiting for anything and nothing.

Then there was movement. Sounds. Here some snow fluffed up and settled. There a twig snapped. His steed kept calm.

All of a sudden, several of the whitefurred rats jumped out from the snow, blades whirling. Some of them were downed midair by the swift and lethal arrows of the Shadow Warriors, but they landed amidst the elves, attacking instantly. The Shadow Warriors drew their finely crafted blades and struck at the rodent warriors, taking down quite an impressive number of them in a matter of seconds!

The Silver Helm knight charged into the battle pinning a rat with his lance, before dropping it and unsheathing his blade. The rats were beginning to decrease in numbers, but so were the elves. Though they slew rats with each blow, the elves were slowly being dragged down and stabbed to death by the crude rusty blades of the skaven.

Seeing his brethren slain down by these filthyest of beings, the noble begame engulfed in anger and he launched himself into the fray, slaying more of the hideous rats than any elf ever had before him.

When he came to himself again, he was standing on top of a small hill of dead skaven... There were none left of his brethren. He had slain those who killed them, but that did not right this wrong. Nine elves had been slain under his command. Warm tears ran down his cheek.

His keen elven senses took hold of him, and he spun around and jumped on his horse, spurring it into gallop down the trail, as another rat appeared infront of him. The noble raised his blade shouting his familys warcry as he charged the lone rodent.

As his eyes widened at the incredible speed of his roden opponent, it all became dark.

The skaven with the incredible speed looked at the fallen headless knight for a while, sneering. He took his shiny armour and his chipped shield for himself, then spat at the corpse. Upon his return he was hailed as a hero of his clan, and from that day on he was known only as Shiny, because of the greaming armour he wears.

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This was the story of my Chieftain Shiny, who carries the Languisher Sword and the Bands of Power ^__^ .

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- Rally to the Flame -

Finally the kindling caught flame, and Grachnut settled himself on a rock by the herdstone. Soon, the other herds would rally to his signal. He knew they would not be easily convinced. In truth, he himself was doubting the plan. But the shaman was gifted with the vision, and he could not ignore it.
Suddenly he smelled something. Sticking his snout in the air, he sniffed and searched his mind for what this odd scent could come from. Rising, he grabbes his broad axe, and motioned for the rest of his herd to keep quiet.
Grachnut moved upwinds toward the source of the smell, still unable to identify it. The scent grew stronger.

Suddenly he heard roars and howls from behind him. Whirling around, he saw scores of mansized rodents attacking his herd. Clothed in dark red cloth and wielding wristblades on both hands, these whitefurred enemies were slaying gors and ungors everywhere.
A rush of panic streamed through Grachnuts veins as he felt the cool touch of metal against his throat.

Smyge wretched his bloodstained wristblades from the beastman leaders' throat, as his protege approached him.
"Now what, sensei?" the darkclad assassin asked.
The sensei regarded his clan. Or what was left of it. The beasts had fought well, and had taken the lives of several of his nightrunners. Weaklings, Smyge thought. Still, there were enough left. Wiping the blood from his blades on a beastmans clothes, he looked at the fireplace by the herdstone.
"Now, Snike, we wait-wait."
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Skaven Lord Vinshqueek
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Bunny ear says flop

:o
short story??? Great reading material... not that good in my English, so any corrections... nope

Greetz
In the Horned One we trust, all others we monitor.

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Skaven track record [W/D/L] @ 17th of August, 2014: BB 34/19/55; MH 9/2/6; WHF 17/8/30
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BorgtheSmall
Chieftain
Nice.... I love the fluff that skaven have... we are the fluffiest I think.
ck
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