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Introducing: Xerxes; a little fluff from Clan Skrikkik
Topic Started: 18th June 2004 - 11:32 AM (479 Views)
phordicus
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Battlemaster of Clan Skrikkik

Xerxes.

The name didn't ring any bells for Tisha'ak, High Warlord of Clan Vettikaw, yet as he peered down at the mass of warriors garbed in purple swarming over the last of his warren guard, he thought it should. There wasn't much time for contemplation of this as the door to his chambers was smashed asunder by several stormvermin halberds, the blood-stained blades clearing a path through the harem-slaves as Tisha'ak retreated slowly backwards towards the balcony railing. The black-furred soldiers stopped and held their weapons menacingly inches from his face.

Suddenly, the sounds of battle faded into the distance, revealing heavy boots churning through the gore and rubble, traveling inexorably closer. In the doorway strode a massive skaven, filth and blood covering what was otherwise elaborate armor, a man-tall shield slung over his shoulder and a rune-encrusted blade in his paw.

"Tisha'ak," the figure spoke. "Tisha'ak, you should have kept the word you gave to me."

Tisha'ak puffed up with indignity. "Your terms were ridiculous! Arrogant! You demanded too much and then asked for more! How can I keep faith with my clan if I accede to every upstart's beggings?!" The stormvermin inched closer at this insult to their leader, but were stayed by their lord's gesture.

"Deluded to the end, aren't you? Have you been so busy just trying to keep this excuse for a clan together that you never heard, not that I come to beg, but to command! If you had heard that the war host of Tyrion himself found valor by declining to match me on the field of battle, you would know that I came not to ask, but to demand!" Xerxes strode forward, flanked by his guards.

"If you had heard of the massacres at eight Tilean towns, all with x's branded on their severed heads, you would know that I came not to succor, but to annihilate!" Another step and the two were nearly touching.

"If you had heard how the passes through Athel Loren were expanded, or how the Empire abandoned entire trade routes, or how the Dwarves shut themselves further into their mountains, you would know that I come not to confederate, but to conquer!" The dripping sword at Tisha'ak's throat now, almost breaking the skin.

"I tell you now, and heed it well, for it will be the last thing you hear aside from your own screams." He leans forward, his fangs upon Tisha'ak's ear, and whispers... "Xerxes."

A pause, then again he says, "Xerxes".

Straightening his cloak, seconds pass as Xerxes sheathes his sword and turns to walk out, but as he walks away, Tisha'ak still hears the name being spoken, growing louder. At first he thinks it is a trick of his fevered brain, or that the departing warlord is still speaking.

But no, he realizes. It is the throng outside, the hundreds of violet-garbed warriors chanting the fell name of their captain. The stormvermin advance and encourage him to add his screams to the chorus as their halberds begin slicing off chunks of his flesh.

Xerxes.
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Skaveni primi, skaveni infiniti.
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if you meet a master swordsman, show him your sword; but do not show your poem to one who is not a poet.

- japanese proverb
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BorgtheSmall
Chieftain
A killing in true skaven political power grasping style. Nicey nice.
ck
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