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Borag Ulgard; TP Chptr III Prt I
Topic Started: 13th October 2006 - 10:24 PM (328 Views)
Morkskittar
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The Tunnel's Resident Rodent Ecologist

Borag Ulgard
The Pitfighter
Chapter III
Part I

When Rakkin's consciousness first resurfaced, he thought he was going to relive his last moments over and over again. The situation was almost exactly the same as it had been at the Underlord's interrogation; strapped to a chair in a dark room, surrounded by cloaked figures. The Master Moulder stifled a groan and tried to sink back into blessedness of dreamless sleep. No such blessing was to be permitted to touch Rakkin.

In a disturbingly similar way to the Underlord's methods, a figure shuffled forward and thrust smelling salts under the Skaven's nose. Rakkin's eyes hot wide open and he coughed violently, globs of ink-black blood shooting out of his mouth onto the figure's cloak. The thing seemed not to notice the filthy blood it was collecting on its robe, and it shuffled back into place.

It took several minutes for Rakkin's senses to clear, or at least clear enough for him to take in his surroundings. Still feigning sickness, he cast his eyes around the room, analyzing the situation. Those smelling salts had been stronger than the smelling warpstone used by the Underlord of Skavenblight.

There were eight figures visible to Rakkin, and more probably stood behind him. They stood in complete silence, not even their robes moving. Looking more closely at their robes, Rakkin noticed with some surprise that they were not black. Traces of blue and green showed underneath layers of dirt, grime, and mud. No wonder they didn't notice me hacking up blood all over them...

As if sensing his awareness, one of the figures behind him began to speak, after a long bout of throat-clearing. Its voice was a low, slow baritone, and it made Rakkin feel even more tired than he already was. "Welcome, young rat-thing. We have been waiting your arrival for many moon-cycles. Morrslieb and Mannslieb will be in the requested positions within eight sun-cycles."

Rakkin blinked in confusion. The air in the chamber had become expectant and eager, even though not one figure had moved. They want me to say something, thought Rakkin wearily. Well, if I can pretend to be Kashisk, I can pretend to be whoever these things want me to be. Rakkin paused for a moment before speaking, analyzing the deep-voiced one's short speech. It seems as if they think I am their master... but then why do they have me chained here? the answer dawned almost immediately. They are not sure.

Rakkin spoke without clearing his throat at all, a fact which the figures seemed to impressed with by the way they turned to eachother. It took as much strength as the Moulder had to keep the stutter from his speech. "Yes, I have come. Why is it that I am chained here?"

The baritone voice spoke again, this time coming from one of the figures in front of him. "We merely had to be sure, Ushrael. We needed to make sure that you were the one that the Godslayer told us of." Ushrael? Godslayer? Godslayer rang a bell in Rakkin's head. Something had come up in the north about killing gods... some crazy Warlord in the Civil War... Rakkin couldn't remember it now. He had to focus on the task at hand. Was there a way he could escape from his bonds without asking for help...? After a moment of searching, Rakkin gave up.

"Untie me now," Rakkin commanded. The authority in his voice surprised even Rakkin. He hadn't known that he had that much strength left.

The robed figures stirred uneasily, and another baritone spoke again. "Surely Ushrael does not need us to untie his bonds?"

Having anticipated that response, Rakkin wasted no time in spitting back a reply, his voice dripping in contempt. "Surely you recognize a test of faith when you see-see one?" Damn. He had stuttered...

The entire collective circle flinched, and one figure hurried forward and untied Rakkin's bonds. The Moulder stood as the low voices apologized profusely. He looked around the room.

There were about fifteen figures in the room, each one exactly indentical. The walls were made of stone covered in an eerie green moss, some of which glowed and supplied the room with light. A door was carved into the stone opposite the wall the Moulder had been staring at. In one of the far corners was a wooden table covered in parchment, vials or liquid of many colours, and daggers. rakkin ignored those items and turned to the figures surrounding him. "That is correct, you shall not fail again." Rakkin's voice had become as hard as stone, and the figures felt it.

Rakkin turned to the thing that had untied him. "What is your name?" None of those in the circle could possible have doubted which one he was pointing to, but they all answered collectively.

'We have no name; we are the nameless."

Rakkin spat in fury. "What is your name, and tell me truth or you shall not walk out alive!" The room grew silent, and Rakkin could hear and feel the thing's fear. Should it obey Ushrael or its rituals?

It spoke after several moments of deliberation. "I am called Borag Ulgard."

Rakkin nodded and walked over to the door. "Show me my quarters, Borag," said the Moulder as he flung open the door.

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