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From beneath we devour; Rattsu the Black SoC fluff
Topic Started: 29th July 2004 - 07:04 PM (695 Views)
Rattsu
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Is writing Dragon Age fanfiction

[Part 1]

[Day 22]

~ Decision at Nordbergbruche ~

Camped near the still intact span of Nordbergbruche Bridge, Rattsu listened to the report that had been delivered by the shadow-runner...

His sensitive ears ached at the sound of armies marching, the din never fading since the bridge had been taken two days ago. Scores upon scores of man-things from the north filed away into the darkness, the eerie glow of things touched by the mutating touch of the great changer lighting the way. It was a sight Rattsu would gladly rid his eye off; already the roads to Breder would be swamped with man-things and worse. Lucky the greater portion of their path ran beneath the mountain, in passes kept secret and tunnels unknown to anybody but the rat-kin. He could not wait to move his forces out.

Apparently the Council of Thirteen thought different.

“Read-read the scratch-marks again.” Rattsu’s tail twitched, a sure sign of his annoyance. The shadow-runner slunk back towards the Stormvermin guards; it was not unknown for the temperamental Warlord to take his disappointment out on the messenger.

"Great Rattsu, thousand pardon-pardons, but the note hold the sigil-scratches of the Council itself. It is genuine." The albino rat fingered the parchment absentmindedly, one of his many bells chiming softly.

The wheezing squealings of Gray Seer Skwee made Rattsu’s ears pull back against his skull as always. He did not like the Seer, but tolerated his presence. "What-what insanity is this then? Have the Council gone soft-soft in the head?" He could smell the poppy-seed-smoke on the Seer, he had made himself cozy once the fighting had died down it seemed.

"Man-things in Bohsenfels castle must die-die.” The Seer ran a long polished claw over the scratch-map. "The tunnels underneath are way-way in, the walls that defied Melek will fall-fall to the under-empire. Push back man-things now or get tail stomped later. We shall inherit."

Rattsu blinked slowly, the suggestion sensible but for the itching in his missing eye. From the way that Skwee was swaying, he now was sure that the Seer was stone-stoned. “My rat-rats were promised the grain-stores of Zundap. I marched them north-north on the Council’s orders leaving rich-pickings to Verminious Fang. I slew my share of the soft man-things here, my rats are hungry for the tunnels of Breder. They miss safe-burrows, Breder is destined for breeding grounds once the surface is burnt.” To be there first would mean rich pickings and good territories for any Warlord worth his fangs. “To walk back-back would destroy morale completely.”

“Yes-yes.” Skwee half closed his red eyes, pale claws braiding and rebraiding one of his many amulets. “But the Council say…”

“I don’t give a rats arse what the Council say-say!” Rattsu brought his mechanical claw down on message, obliterating both it and the improvised table where it had rested. “We have the barrels for Project Supremacy, do the Council suddenly abandon their pet plot?” No, there had to be a different reason for this, and suddenly he knew why. To go back to Bohenfels meant to lose the chance for first pickings of the new territories. Already the Seers were at the forefront, Struhelspan and Zundap had fallen to Verminious Fang, who most likely had his sights set on Hergig, the soft jewel of Ostland.

“But the omens…” Skwee’s voice wavered a bit; he was obviously none to keen to go against the Council’s wishes.

“…or about what the omens say-say.” Rattsu motioned for his guards to drag the pale skaven away. His whiskers twitched lightly as what could only be called a smile begun to grow. "Clever-clever played of them..." This had far too many possibilities to ignore, the main one that it was all a ploy to remove his clan from the frontlines. “Get some rest-rest Seer, we march at moonrise.” It would give him enough time to prepare things.

Once the Seer had been removed, he motioned forth the shadow-runner that had delivered the message, mechanical claw twitching in anticipation. “A message for the Council of Thirteen.” The arm lashed out, crushing the hapless skaven’s head in its vice-like grip. “Message unfortunately lost-lost before delivered.” He tossed the broken body aside, turning to face his Stormvermin guard, a mad gleam of anticipation in his one remaining eye.

“We march at moonrise. To Breder. From beneath we will devour.”



-to be continued-
I am currently writing an epic Dragon Age 2 adventure that can be found HERE!! or on my deviantart.

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Rattsu
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[Part 2]

[Day 26]

~ Following the Horde~

It was in times like this that Rattsu the Black lamented that his clan had been ousted from the sewers of Marienburg.

It had seemed like such a smart move at the time, to take what remained of his tattered clan and move east through the hidden pathways, to take advantage of the rumours of the oncoming storm. Grey Seer Skwee had seen the omens, he had tossed the bones and proclaimed that their destiny lie here, amongst the deep forests of the east. As the alternative had been to be subsumed by the neighbouring clans, Rattsu had jumped at the opportunity, eagerly answering the Council’s call as the Underempire mobilized. He remembered whiskers twitching with pride as every burrow and tunnel filled with clawed feet and swaggering tails, the antipathies between the clans momentarily forgotten as the strange, almost maddening ambition gripped them all.

The Overempire. That alone was a bold move, the south-eastern realms of the man-things kingdoms were distant, but a far cry from the fabled swamps of Tilea. Could the man-things here be tamed? Could they become slaves to work the earth, to harvest the corn and to raise the cattle for their new masters? It was a cunning plan, and Rattsu doubted it every time one of his clanrats ran skittering from the bright sky, filled with fear from being out in the open for too long. But if it would work, there would be room for ambitious warlords who were not afraid to get their claws dirty in the name of the Council. In the name of Project Supremacy.

What that was, Rattsu did not know, and did not wish to know either. Even Seer Skwee had no idea, though the seer tended to munch on more warpstone with each passing day claiming to be in direct communion with the spirit of the great Horned Rat himself. Perhaps he would be lucky and the seer would overdose, and then perhaps he’d at least get someone competent.

No, wait. Rattsu scratched his ear, the healing scar still itching. Better to keep Skwee, he had seen clans where the Seers had far too much power. He rather liked being the sole voice of reason. This was HIS clan, and he would risk it in the Council’s name.

Not that there was too much left now. Many slaves and clanrats had perished in the tunnels of the Nordbergbruche, buying precious time for their chaotic ‘allies’ to cross. Rattsu had never seen much difference between the different breeds of man-things that fought, it was mainly a matter of size and temper. And, the occasional tentacle, though most of that horde had gone in the direction of Brass Keep by now. That fortress tempted him direly. But right now the time was not right for an assault, he estimated at least a moon more of digging and tunnelling, and that was a job best left to the engineers. He had sent engineer Tessla north with a small troop, to add what expertise the rat could muster. He expected to hear back when the keep was beginning to ripen, because he would not miss the chance of standing victorious on those walls for anything in the world.

But by then they would have Hergig on its knees.

From Nordbergbruche he had marched south towards Breder with the Chaos horde, enforcing discipline harshly and keeping his force to the side paths, to the tunnels and passes the man-things never had seen. No short-fat-things in the tunnels here, he heard rumours of pointy-ears holding the settlement, and they never ventured underground. And so they died, and fled. Who sent pointy-ears to defend a tunnel city? Rattsu did not know, but Breder had toppled quickly, at last leaving the path south towards Hergig open for him.

Or so he had thought.

He had not counted on an entire Chaos horde trying to squeeze through the mountains at the same time.

“Skwee, I tell-tell you, where to now? Find path-path of safety or I’ll let you negotiate with the man-things down there for passage.” Rattsu ran a claw along the edge of the unnamed massive blade that never left his back.

The Grey Seer cringed, long pale claws fondling the manskin map that he had procured from the Council. It was supposed to hold the hidden and secret pathways they could use in this war, the tunnels dug for years, or simply taken from the green-things. “Thing-things, not man-things.” He fiddled nervously with one of his many bells, casting a red eye towards the scene below. The hordes had started to turn, meandering down from the mountains, the mud of Breder still clinging to their boots. “Too many tentacles.” He flicked his ears, evading his warlord’s gaze.

“ Don’t care.” Rattsu turned to look out over the rather magnificent view, letting the Seer have a moment to collect himself. “Man-things are moving towards Esk. That is no fight-fight for us.” He could imagine what it would be like. The soggy ground turned to marsh under thousands of steel shod boots, the servants of the plaguelord already at work with softening the defences. There were no tunnels there, just overland battles, pressed between the rabid followers of the blood god, and the slightly less insane man-things that followed Archaon himself. It was no place for a rat. They’d be trampled.

“Here!” Skwee wobbled a bit as he ambled over to the warlord, the green shine to his eyes speaking of a bit of warpstone induced concentration. “I see path-marks clear now. East through cliff-gouge to river near Lenkster. Rafts are kept there to bring rat-kin to Hergig. We shall inherit!”

Rattsu wrinkled his nose at the Council’s favourite propaganda line, though he felt his tail twitch in pride despite himself. It was a catching phrase. And a tantalising hint of a bright future. The man-things might kill each other, but in the end the rats would remain. “Good-good.” He turned, not giving the Seer a second thought as he marched over to Kwikk, his second in command quickly stopping the quick game of bones and stones he had going with the stormvermin guards. “We march-march now.”

With the luck of the horned rat they would be in Hergig by next moonrise.

He was itching for a fight.

-to be continued with a battle report next-
I am currently writing an epic Dragon Age 2 adventure that can be found HERE!! or on my deviantart.

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s'nkeep
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Ajax = warpstone juice

just read that on the gw forums GJ, it great that it plays up that skaven dont just follow orders they dread them lol
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phordicus
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Battlemaster of Clan Skrikkik

nice work!

at the end of the campaign, i'll compile all our fluff into one big document.

i'll need peeps to start putting (or go back and put) what day(s) of the campaign their stories cover so i can keep it chronological.
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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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Matt
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News Elf of the Twilight Host
Nice fluff
Well done Rattsu!

Giantrat
Wise Words of the Rebellion:
"When you run the gauntlet of the Rebellion of Flames, you must expect the unexpected" Warlord Morrik Ashenfur.
"Why is it, that as a culture we are more inclined to death than songs?" Warlord Brackenfurr.
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Rattsu
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phordicus
Jul 29 2004, 04:25 PM
nice work!

at the end of the campaign, i'll compile all our fluff into one big document.

i'll need peeps to start putting (or go back and put) what day(s) of the campaign their stories cover so i can keep it chronological.

I edited it and included the day numbers to help you out there...

*grins*

Gonna be one big document...

Reminds me of the old UGW wars...
I am currently writing an epic Dragon Age 2 adventure that can be found HERE!! or on my deviantart.

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