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Enter the Desert rats; fluff from HotW
Topic Started: 12th February 2007 - 11:06 PM (670 Views)
FatherSquee
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Holder of Clan Pestilens "Most Sexiest" Award

I'll stick this here as well just so whoever wants to keep track can (also as a semi-recruitment thread ;) )
Enjoy!

Chapter One: Call to Arms

The desert night was all but silent and to the untrained eye you would of thought that the cool sand was all but devoid of life, though it is these untrained eyes that soon find themselves outside of their masters skulls.
Jynx and his Arabian Raiders silent rode along the edges of the massive dunes, there food resurves were starting to dry up from the last raid and they were on the hunt for their next prey. Jynx and his crew were known throughout the Nehekharen deserts for their cruel and bloody raids; they would pillage and kill everything in an entire settlement, leaving only a single child to spread the tails of terror to all those around. Eventually the deizidens of the desert would simply offer their supplies to the Raiders in hopes of saving the lives of their families and themselves but Jynx was especially ruthless and never held up on his end of the bargin.
In the distance now they could see the soft glow of a fire reflecting off the first rocks at the southern tip of the Dragonback Mountains.

"There!" signaled Jynx. "Our next meal awaits my brothers."
He said it with his crooked smile, one that was aided by a massive scar that ran across his upper lip.

They quickly but silently made their way to the dunes just between them and the light, moving like the shadows themselves their was no chance that any scout would of seen them. Jynx and one of his trusted scouts dismounted from their horses, who were themselves black as midnight. They expertly made their way to the top edge of the dune, bearly leaving any tracks behind them and what they saw filled their eyes with wonder and their harts with greed.

Some sort of religious ceremony was going on. It seemed that a few of the local desert tribes have congrigated in this one spot, better than that it seemed like they have taken all of their possesions with them! They were all gathered in a central pit, danceing and chanting around a giant statue of one of the many Gods. Jynx didn't recognize which one it was though; it had the body of a man and an animal head like others he has seen but instead of having the head of a Jackel or a Hawk like in the sourthern lands this one seemed to have the head of a Horned Rat. But Jynx didn't let this bother him, these norther tribes sometimes took the path less travelled when it came to worshipping deities. Around the center of the giant statue circled thirteen cloaked figures, their was somthing off about them but Jynx couldn't quite put his finger on it; they seemed shorter and more hunched than what a normal person would of appeared to be like. Most likely they were just the elders of the clans, shrunken and bent with age. Then his hart started pounding as his eyes lay upon his goal, all the treasures and supplies of the gathered tribes. They were gathered at the base of the giant, vast piles of bread, jewels, trinkets and food stuffs of all types given as if in offering to the Rat Headed protecor. He made up his game plan along with the scout then scuttled back behind the dune to head back to join the rest of their part, on the way though the scout tripped.

"Yip!" he yelled as he fell.
The rest of the raiders all saw it and started to laugh.
"Quiet fools!" Jynx scoulded. "Do you wish to giva away our position?"
They quieted down but the scout still seemed fairly embarrased, after all who could he a great Araby Raider be as foolish as trip down a clean dune, but when he glanced back he noticed that their was something there glinting in the moonlight. He slowly made his way back up the dune towards the object and was somewhat surprized as to what he found.

"It's a sword! Who would leave their sword lying out in the middle of the desert?"
Not letting pety morals or judgment guide his actions he bent down to pick it up but the loose sand wouldn't release his new found prize.
"It's stu-!"
The sentance didn't have time to leave his lips as the blade suddenly flared with life and in one swift fluid motion severed the scout's head from his body.

The rest of the raiders just sat there on their horses, dumbfounded as to what they had just witnessed. The body was still standing but the head rolled all the way down to the bottom of the dune, it landed top up staring back at the rest of the raiders with the most suprized look you could of ever seen stuck on the deceased scout. They looked back at the sword now pointing straight up out of the sand and to their horror their was a hand attached to it! Before Jynx could let out a shout of warning the sand all around them exploded with action. Faster than eyes could match shapes moved across around them hidden behind a wall of flowing sand. Screams could be heard in the cloud as the raiders were cut down before they even realized what was happening.

"Sand Daemons!" yelled one of the Raiders just before a silver blade was thrusted through his throat; blood spurting out of his mouth and nose as he gurgled the last of his breath away.

Jynx lashed out his semitar and caught one through the ribs.
"Ha! They are made of flesh and bone! Attack my Raiders! Kill them a- what!?"

The sand that was blown up from the erupting defenders finally begun to settle and Jynx finally got a look at what they were fighting and what stood before him was unlike anything he had ever seen before. They wore desert cloaks but what was underneat was still quite visible, the...thing was a rat! But it was more than that, the...thing stood on two legs as if to mock Jynx. Indeed it seemed to have a very human form, though it was more stooped and had sharp claws and fangs and it's face, it was the face of a rat but the intelligence in it's eyes were unmistakable. The most horrid thing of all though was it wasn't simply a man sized vermin, but that the beast was not alive! The undead monstrosity was almost completly devoid of all flesh as nothing but a few scraps of fir and muscle seemed to be left behind. Indeed Jynx's blade that he thought had delt a killing blow had done nothing but glance against one of it's many exposed ribs!

The horror pulled back it's cowl to fully reveal it's face, the grinning fangs of which were still leaking sand through the openings. It looked down at the blade going through it's chest and back up into the eyes of Jynx, it then stepped forward, the blade gliding harmlessly on it's ribs until he was but inches from the face of Jynx. It's hand came up and cracked Jynx along the side of his skull.

When he awoke Jynx nearly uninated himself with fear. He was surrounded now at the base of the Rat Headed effigy. He grogily looked around and found his raiders tied up twenty paces away, well what was left of them that is. He was surrounded by the tribes people, all of which looked at him with this strange grin on their faces. The group separated to let a single figure through, he too was completly covered in head to toe in a desert cloak, though he also had bone armor and trinkets hanging off his person. He approached Jynx, only stopping once he was literally hovering over Jynx then he pulled back his hood to reveal the face beneath. As bad as their first horror was this one was much worse. He was undead like the other one though his state of decay had held togeter much better, if you could call his current condition an improvement. The right side of his face was completly sunken, to the point where it seemed nothing was left but black leathery skin and bone, though the flesh around his elongated mouth and snout was all but gone, revealing murderous fangs beneath. The left side of his face seemed relativly intact still, though the area round his eye was nothing but green tinted bone. And his eyes, they were the worst part as looking into them filled Jynx's hart with dread and covered him in a cold sweat. The right was all but devoid of everything but the blackest of darkness but the left...deep in the most canernous recesses of his skull burned a perpetual green flame that danced and flowed seemingly with a will all of it's own, it must of been that flame that burned away the surrounding flesh and tainted the bone green.

"Wha...what are you?" stammered Jynx.
"Your-your new master," he replied in a scratchy cutting voice, Jynx couldn't tell if he was grinning or not. "But you-you can call my Warlord Jac-Jaculus."

Jynx just looked at him with the look on his face that should of only been resurved for small children.
"You seem confuzed, let-let me elaborate. We my-my new friend are of the master race of Skaven, we-we are of the Clan Husk and we are desendances of your God the great Horned Rat. It is He who guides the-the hand of Lord Nagash to the south and it-it is He who you-you will learn to worship. You are now a part of the glory that is Clan Husk. Together we-we will conquor the Desert and Lands Beyond to return Nehekhara to it's former glory. In my name you-you will fight. In Nagash's strength you will kill. In Nehekhara's might you will conquor and in the high glory of the Horned Rat you will die."
Warlord Jac-Jaculus's eye began to flare as he said the name of the Horned Rat.
"Your life man-thing is no longer your own, but together We Shall Inherit!"
The flame was now shooting out of his skull and singing the skin that was still left on his face.

Jynx, the once great Arabian Raider, the one who had nearly conquored the orthern desert along with his band visibly trembled bofore Jac-Jaculus and then he lowed his eyes and face to the ground, bowing before him.
"Master."
The Warlord placed his skeletal hand on Jynx's back.
"Good-good."

He then turned away from Jynx and walked back to the Horned Rat statue in the center of the desert clearing. His eye was still aflame from his talk with the Arabian Raider and actually now it seemed like the whole purpose for it's activity was more for the statue than his rousing speech. Jac-Jaculus stood before the giant with his hands splayed outwards and together with the thirteen cloaked figures therose a chant to the effigy. Dust and small chunks of hardened sand begun raining off of it as it begun to rumble, a buried sound could be made out comming from deep within, raising ever higher as it went then it's eye began to glow. Soon the left eye of the statue was mirroring Jac-Jaculus' own and with a sudden break the Ushtabi had awakened! It roared with it's newfound life and let it's pressance known to the entire Desert.

Jac-Jaculus lowed his arms as the flame in his eye reverted to it's more dormant state. He waved for one of his runners to approach.
"Send-send out word," said the Warlord. "The Desert Rats march."
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Morgoth
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Veeeeery good indeed NurgSquee :)
It is definatly great that some of us can write fluff.
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Matt
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I agree Morgoth - i just love this piece, I am so glad I am a desert rat - not a slave to one!

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garthvader
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il just TRY to d oa little bit of fluff im not the best at punctuation :P



Slyfe figited with his twin daggers the blakened steel was covered in sratches and sars of years of use, much like the tall skaven that used it. Slyfe and his warband were preparing for a raid on a large nehekhran pallace. it was in the evening and Slyfe and his army were just over a sand hill ready to pounce on the unsespecting humans . "Check your weapons" slyfe shouted nervously.After that accursed amulet he had found his luck had been worse and worse.

Slyfe was a Bandit chieften leader of his roaming clan it had many names told by nehekhrans , the Desert Rats, The sand demons, the Terrors of the night and many more but all of them earnt down to the last drop of blood. slyfe's clan was the most ruthless and mercilous clan in the whole of north nehekhra. So ruthless infact that the people of south nehekhra thought slyfe and his army of rats was all but a myth used to scare children into bed but infact it was all true.
the village that slyfe was attacking tonight was home to a rich army commander it had been a few weeks sinse a good raid and slyfe thought his comrats needed a bit of a workout.

as Slyfe sent the call his whole army started running towords the pallace screaming incoherent crys as they stormed the house. But to their suprise as they got inside the court yard there was noone inside. Slyfe looked arround and to his suprise the nehekhran army commander came out. slyfe started laughing at the tanned man making a defiant defence against the horde of rats. But slyfes laugh was cut short because the man muttered several words incoherant to slyfe and the sand started moving around him. all of a sudden a skelatal hand pushed through the sand then more and more and more! te skeletal soilders rose out of the sand to attack the unsespecting skaven. it was a blood bath, slyfe thrashed madly arround him trying to fight the undead constructs but it was no use Slyfe made the call "Run Run for your lives!" he tried to make it to the gate but there were more outside then all of a sudden the general was infront of slyfe "put down your weapons and you will be spared" he said in a booming voice Slyfe was open to negotiationsas far as he could see that was the only way he could out of this unlucky mess alive. slyfe calmly put his weapons down and the undead stopped attacking simultaneously.

the general Discussed the upcoming war that all men of nehekhra were going to have to fight in. Slyfe had heard of this warhe also had heard that some of his skaven comrats would be in it. Up to the north more he knew that the venerable lord jac-jaculus was preparing. but Slyfe didnt really throw his lot in with them he was proud that he wasnt all bone and sand there was still blood in his vains. Slyfe had also heard that the sly old wise lord grimesh was sending one of his upstart liutenants to the fray (no offence meant to morgoth :D ). Slyfe had also heard of a new warlord entering the fray on the side of the desert rats.

the general basicly offered Slyfe life, and the chance to serve nehekhra in the oncoming battle or death and the chance to serve as an undead abomination. slyfe valuing his life like any selfrespecting skaven took the first option the general replied how to get to the position to meet the rest of the armys and then vanished into the wind his undead army fading like dust. leaving a tall dark grim nehekrhan in his place "im Your minder " was the only words he said slyfe picked up his knives and told his army to move out. he had to hurry if he didnt want to end up like warlord jac-jaculus

do you like it?
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Morgoth
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Me likes, yes-yes!

You should try to edit it again though (no offence), as some tracks of "cut and paste" are obvious
(e.g. " the chance to serve nehekhra in the oncoming battle or death and the chance of serving him in the oncoming battle"), and capital letters starting sentences helps reading it a lot.
The story itself is great.

It is a genious fact, that we D.Rats are all vast tribes slowly joining up to become Clan Husk, because of this war. This gives room for totally different background-fluff.

Curse on you though, fellow Desert Rats: I was not planning on spending time writing hopeless attempts to fluff, but seeing yours force me into trying.
But please; do use my characters in your stories. That way some life comes to Lord Grimesh and Captain Meriones. And since we don't know eachother yet in the campaign, there are great possibilities for misunderstandings and mutual distrust.


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SingTheScreams:   "....we ain't no chaos-worshipping freaks. We be ratmen, and we do as we please......"

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garthvader
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yeah thanks for the tips it is my first real stab at fluff so i didnt expect awsome quality :D
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Warlord Bloodfang
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Good piece of writing there, both of them.

Make sure in the coming battle that the desert rats do their part for Skavenblight. ;)
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FatherSquee
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Here's my next installment of fluff, it's been a while though I think it makes up for the time spent writing it ^_^

Enjoy!

Chapter Two: The Fall of Skavenblight

The arched catacombs slowly dripped condensation around the room and the soft sound of the Golfo di Fodore could be heard through the walls. The room itself was quite well build being and being made by elven hands it was built to last; holding onto its elegance even now centuries after the masons were gone. Warlord Jac-Jaculus carefully sat in between the dripping roof so that his candle didn't get wet and leaned back, relaxing as he slowly chewed on a gracious helping of Black Corn. He had missed the sharp taste of it, though he had no more use for food he would still habitually eat to keep his sanity. Usually though all their was to feed on in the desert were the carrion and the Cultists who
Sacrificed themselves to their Warlord; seeing him as their Avatar to the Gods. But the corn was a nice change to all of that, indeed it was nice to even be below ground again for the sand of Nehekhara was anything but stable for vast leagues under the earth.

These Tobaren Skaven have no idea how good they have it, Jac-Jaculus thought to himself. Once this is all done I might just set up a small warren here.
Once I save it from damnation that is...


A knock came from the blackened door in front of the Warlord. "Enter." The door cracked open and a figure entered, in a flash the corn stock flew out of the Warlord's hand and straight at the newcomer's face. The figure deftly dodged the ballistic morsel though bowed immediately to show that he wasn't an enemy.
"It's good-good to see my scouts are as quick as ever," said Jac. He allowed a small grin cross his face as he said it; there was no creature that he knew of that were faster than his undead Skaven scouts. "Speak."
"New-newest of arrivals Master, we have convinced the-the bandit chieftain Slyfe to see things our way."
"I trust we left some of-of his troop’s alive yes?"
"Yes-yes Parched One, though some causalities were unavoidable."
"That matters little. Go-go now and relay the Legions orders to them, we will be upon the enemy tomorrow and I wish to be at full strength."
"Yes-yes Master."
With that the inexhaustible scout was off again to do the bidding of Husk.

Full strength indeed, for if the reports he was getting were true then Jac-Jaculus and Clan Husk would be in for one of the largest battles they've ever fought. His Legion commander General Eli Tel-Resha was already at the front line helping the rest of the Skaven race defend their birthright. It amused Jac-Jaculus how easily the man-things he worked with would help defend the one thing that they so often shunned in the past. The simple fact that the Warlord had a say at all showed of changing times in the Nehekharen Empire though in the end they along with many races see the importance of Skaven existing in this world, even if from their point of view they were just meat shields, in the end it mattered little as the path to Inheritance often took a backward path.

Jac-Jaculus was to be one of the last to arrive as Skavenblight, being the final wave of reinforcements to the City. He along with Captain Meriones a field officer of Jac’s aging ally Lord Grimesh and King Ash ibn Seladil of the Southern Dunes were to be the last of the Western Force to make a stand in Skavenblight, which would mean his forces would be the freshest, something Warlord Jac-Jaculus was banking on if his true plans were to come to fruition but like with all great schemes this one would have to wait for tomorrow to be fulfilled.

***

Tomorrow had come at last to Clan Husk and those with him from the Phar Legion, though it wasn’t quite what Warlord Jac-Jaculus had been expecting. They had just entered the southern portcullis to the main Skavenblight tunnel system but instead of meeting entrenched troops they met vast battalions of both Skaven and Man-thing alike marching east. Jac expanded his Warpsight to find those in charge and found three of them grouped together just down the tunnel.
“Wait-wait here,” the Warlord said to one of his Chieftains. “I will go and gather information from-from our allies.”
As he got closer he could feel the power emanating off of the three of them, almost to the point where it rivaled Jac-Jaculus’ own.
Almost.

“Ah grand Warlord Jac-Jaculus of Ekrund, you’ve finally made it I see,” the one who spoke was the man-thing, Jac’s own Legion commander General Eli Tel-Resha. The general tried to hide it but Jac could make out a tinge of relief behind his voice.
“It-it’s about time you got here, Abomination. We-we have been consorting with your man-thing General. I hear he is the one that orders you around.” Gnawhost Commander Thrask was never much of a diplomat…
“Ah Thrask my-my old friend,” replied Jac-Jaculus. “I’m sure you-you would love to discuss your offspring but now might not be the-the best of times as-as your troops seem to be fairly active at the moment. Tell me Hordeleader Skritchfang why are all the troops on the move?”
The large rat that was silent until now moved to face the Warlord. Jac could tell there was concern in how he moved though that wasn’t all, there was something else…
“We-we are stepping back from Skavenblight.”
The words hit Jac-Jaculus’ dead hart like a hammer.
“You can’t be serious.”
“We-we are. We can no longer hold back the elf-thing’s advance through a straight fight. They are-are already turning our swamp into their next home and so we will-will leave it for them. They will-will eventually forget about this place and on that hour we will retake our Birthright.”
“What of-of the Council? Surely they will not leave the Shattered Tower!”
“They already have, Grey Seer’s skit-skitter leaped them to a save heaven. Where exactly I know not but do not doubt that they-they are still in control.”

Warlord Jac-Jaculus’ mind raced. Surely there was another way! Could they really give up on our holy spawning grounds so easily, indeed how could the elf-things made it so far; only the Skaven had true knowledge of both the Blighted Marshes and the vast tunnel network under the City, and even that was sketchy for all but the most dedicated Skaven. How could they simply leave Skavenblight to be housed by those…those…things!
“My God, then things really have gotten that-that bad then haven they?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Skritchfang.
“Wait, have they breached the-the Temple of the Horned Rat yet?”
“No, though now it-it is only a matter of time.”
Then there’s still a chance! though Jac.
Warlord Jac-Jaculus turned to face his troops waiting behind him, still holding all their supplies for travel then he turned to General Tel-Resha, “you all go-go ahead without us. We-we will cover your retreat.
“That’s suicide!” yelled Thrask. “Your whole Clan will be destroyed!”
“That is-is where you are wrong Commander, for while dead would be the end of-of you for me and my Clan it is just but a minor inconvenience,” he turned to his General and grinned his undead smile. “There are many gifts that-that these man-things can offer, fear not for Clan Husk, we may not be able to-to turn back the tide of elf-things but we will show them that Nehekhara is stronger than they might imagine.”
Skritchfang looked long and hard at Jac-Jaculus before finally saying, “We-we will not forget this Warlord Jac-Jaculus of Clan Husk, and in thanks we-we will not leave you completely empty handed.”
The Hordeleader turned and whistled three short blasts and a moment later a small Skaven appeared out from under a nearby boulder. Jac-Jaculus recognized the sigil of Clan Abrak the map maker clan emblazoned on his shoulder.
“This-this guide will show you and those who survive your coming ordeal secret tunnels that no elf-thing knows of,” said Skritchfang. “That is if any of you survive. Simply whistle like I had just whistled and-and one of them will appear.”
“I-I thank you for this Hordeleader, we-we will be fighting together soon.”
“For your-your sake I hope so, Warlord Jac-Jaculus.”

With that the three of them turned and walked away, General Tel-Resha gave Jac a quick nod as he turned to rejoin his Nehekharen host, Thrask gave him one last menacing look before he too went off to join his armies, Jac just smiled back at him.

The Warlord went back to rejoin his army and turned to one of his Chieftains, "Spread the-the word to the others who have just arrived. Today we fight in Hell."

Jac conferred with Captain Meriones and King Seladil and placed their troops where they would give the most resistance to the elf-things of the Wild Hunt. Their's was not to survive this day but to allow the Skaven Race to survive, even if that meant sacrificing their own lives, which didn't really matter to them as much for whoever wasn't expendable could easily be raised by the power of the Lich Priests. Given that though Warlord Jac-Jaculus wasn't simply going to lie down in front of the elf-things; he had a unique opportunity here, one that has virtually never happened before in the history of Skavenkind and he was out to take advantage of it. While the other two went off to their respected armies Warlord Jac-Jaculus left his second in command in charge and made his way up to the surface. If there was still time he could maybe make it to his goal before the Elves completely broke through.

One the surface evidence of battle was everywhere, though he had to admit that the buildings were in pretty sad shape before the elf-things had gotten there. It was slowly drizzling out; just enough to seep in-between whatever clothing you were wearing and chill your bone. The ever present fog was there as well but through it shinning in his mind’s eye like a beacon of hope was his destination, Shattered Tower; Temple of the Horned Rat.
Beholding the holy Birth Right again after so many years in the barren deserts of Nehekhara nearly floored the Warlord. The insurmountable height of it, the shear magical power that enveloped it and held the sundered structure together and resting above it all was the Bell itself. It practically burned a through in Jac-Jaculus’ eye socket and into his scull as his flame reached with all it’s might towards the Artifact, the item that had initiated everything all those centuries ago. But then his attention was drawn elsewhere, as just before him at the head of a massive square stood the Pillar of Commandments itself. Before he knew what he was doing Warlord Jac-Jaculus was making his way across the open square towards the giant rune-encrusted Warpstone column. Green-tinted ash completely surrounded its base from past people who have tried to touch the Pillar’s greatness, he then suddenly jerked away as he realized his had was slowly moving to touch one of the magical runes.
Not yet… he silently said to himself.
He pulled himself away from the alluring Warpstone trailing ash from the fallen behind him as he finally made his way towards the warped doors leading into the Temple of the Horned Rat.

Jac was pleasantly surprised to notice that the Albino Guards still stood watch over the entrance. There were two of them, each so large that they could of easily beaten any Rat Ogre in a straight fight. Their fur shone white under the pristine armor; something that not even wealthy Warlords like him often wore. They were known for their keen senses and so Jac-Jaculus made no attempt at hiding his approach, he was still well outside any sort of attack distance they readied their razor sharp halberds.

“Hail-hail defenders we are here for a similar goal, the defense of Skavenblight,” he said to the unmoving Albinos.
“The elf-things make strange company in-in these final days I see!”
The one who spoke was not one of the Guards, for removal of the tongue was part of the initiation in becoming a guard of the Shattered Tower, instead the voice came from a small hole in the brickwork just beside the doors made out almost like a miniaturized balcony.
“Well what-whatdaya starin’ at? Name’s Dorat, who-who you be dead-thing?” The…thing did seem to be Skaven, though it was amazingly small, standing just under a foot high. That and it seemed to have its legs cut off making him even shorter.
“Dorat I-I am Warlord Jac-Jaculus of Clan Husk, time is short crippled one and I must pass if Skavenblight it to survive the coming invasion.”
“Invasion has-has already arrived yes? Where have you been? Me think’s the elf-things use you to gain access. You already follow man-thing orders maybe you switch to elf-thing now that they-they take over yes?”
“I-I mean the true invasion, we must prevent the elf-things from gaining access into the Temple of the Horned Rat.”
“Though you-you wish to gain access. You-you are too late dead-thing, the Lords of Decay are-are not inside, you missed your chance.”
“I don’t have time for this,” said the Warlord under his breath. “I-I am truly sorry for this Dorat, you do serve a-a good purpose but mine is more worthy.”
With that the Warlord exploded with action. Utilizing his training offered from the Arabian Assassins Jac-Jaculus sprung up and over the Albino guards to the support structure above, but the Guards proved that their speed wasn’t just myth as their blades sliced through the Warlord’s robes, slicing off one of his toes. Jac would of winced in pain but he felt nothing, instead hanging from the support beam from his feet he unsheathed both of his scimitars slicing the snouts off each of the Guards as they looked up at him. One of them dropped his face and Jac stabbed at where his spine met his brain, nearly severing his neck. The other one stepped back to take full advantage of his longer weapon, snarling through his bloodied face as he did. The Warlord spun around so he was on top of the beam then launched himself at the guard. The halberd struck out with the speed of an Asp but Jac-Jaculus was quicker and parried the blow, then with the full force of his leap behind him he drove his blade straight through the Albino’s sternum, he then turned back to the now cowering Dorat.
“P-p-please Warlord, I-I can cause no-no harm to you! Let-let me live!”
Jac walked back to the diminutive rat and picked him up by the scruff of his neck, Dorat couldn’t hold it in anymore as he sprayed the Musk of Fear all over his small balcony. Without a word the Warlord opened his robes exposing his chest beneath, he then took Dorat and squeezed the rat in-between a section of his exposed rib cage.
“You may still have use yet crippled one,” with that Warlord Jac-Jaculus entered the Temple of the Horned Rat.

Though he couldn’t actually see the chamber the way normal Skaven would have Jac-Jaculus was still impressed to what was inside, though he could of expected as much from the most dominant structure of the Skaven Race. The first room arched overhead with the architecture of a human chapel, the floor was piled high with offering from the common rat leaving the smallest of paths up the center to where dozens of still living horned rats were sewn together in the shape of a head. Warpstone made up the effigy’s eyes and two pairs of large curling horns arched from the structure behind, the sound they made was quite deafening, blocking out any other sound that might have been heard in the entrance hall. Though the door was invisible Jac was able to determine where it was, being sure to dismantle any traps that were evident he made his way through.
Beyond it separated into different paths, though to make it even more confusing virtually every part of the second room had an exit to it; the walls, the floor, even the roof had multiple trap doors and if it wasn’t for the Warlord’s eye pulling towards the correct path he might of ended up getting lost for the rest of his un-life. The door he took surprisingly was the one right under his feet, which he thought was a little silly as that would have been his first guess even if he couldn’t see the way.

The rest of the path to the main chamber tried to turn the Warlord in a path that was just as harrowing as traps and mis-passages lead off at almost every turn. One point he even emerged out on the side of the Tower overlooking the city and the Blighted Marshes beyond. His jaw dropped as for the first time since he entered the city he was truly able to behold what exactly they were up against. The Wild Hunt as they called themselves was a force unlike anything the Warlord had ever witnessed before, truly it would of rivaled even the combined forces of Nehekhara and the Skaven together! He could even feel as their magic’s tore at the swamp slowly turning it from the familiar noxious thing that it was into another one of their forested lands, though he was please to see that many of the trees that they were trying to raise form the tepid waters were less than majestic, but even still he would have to work quickly if this was going to work. The one good thing going for the Warlord was the having Dorat lodged inside his rib cage stopped any further harassment from the Guards, but the path itself was so obtuse that by the end he couldn’t even be sure that he was even still in the Shattered Tower, surely the path exited the building several times but finally he reached his goal, loosing only one arm and is spleen in the process, both of which he would be able to replace if needed when he returned to his war host, but before he went back to them he had work to do; before him stood the final doors to the Council Chamber, the actual epicenter of Skaven society.

He quickly went to work setting his plan into motion. Dorat tried to follow his movements but couldn’t as his hands moved with unearthly speed. He was almost finished with the entrance way when a sound behind him made his eye go cold.
“I thank you Skaven, we would have been hard pressed to make it inside your most hollowed ground without you.”
The voice was no Skaven voice, bearing his teeth in anger Jac turned to face the intruder. She was quite tall and elegant to behold and her hair was a vibrant red, an array of tattoos covered her body, no doubt to be used as wards should any harm come her way. In one hand she held a beautiful sword and in the other a spear that almost danced with power, but through it the most distinguishing feature about the Elven woman was her face; on her lips she wore a thin smile but her eyes were filled with a distant mystery that even a schemeful Skaven could come to admire them. Before he could examine her anymore Jac’s chest spoke out.
“You-you cursed puppet of damnation! You-you led them right to the Council Chamber!”
“Quiet Dorat! Or-or you will wish for the day that-that you were only missing your legs!” said the Warlord to his chest. “Now-now then lady, who might you be? I-I prefer to know the names of my foes before I strike them down.”
“I am Aeliaria, the Forest Mistress and leader of the Wild Hunt,” she said in a flowing elven voice. “And who might you be? I wish to know the names of my foes as they aid me in my endeavors.”
“Jac-Jaculus, Warlord of Clan Husk and-and comrat to my Desert Rats, though I will not aid you in your invasion of Skavenblight. You-you will die of old age long before you will ever bare witness to the walls of the Council Chamber elf-thing.”
“Prepare yourself vermin, your end has come.”
Aeliaria threw here spear with a force that contradicted her slight frame, Jac-Jaculus moved aside to dodge the missile but as he did it seemed to almost shift it’s shape as it redirected towards the Warlord. The spear impacted his chest and bore through his ribcage, shaving the top of Dorat’s head but otherwise doing no harm. Jac reached down but the Forest Mistress moved in and stole the blade from his chest before he hand could rap around it. The Warlord continued reaching to his chest though and before the net strike could be brought down upon him he through the now dislodged Dorat at Aeliaria’s face.
“For Skavenblight!” screamed the airborne rat and he landed in her hair. She let out a short yelp as he became tangled in her hair, giving Jac-Jaculus enough time to move away. Before she could recover he unlocked the great double doors that lead to the Council room though just as he was disappearing in he said, “Better luck-luck next time Lady.”
With that he threw the last of the Skryre devices he had set up around the room giving off a small concussion explosion as it went off. The blast blew the Forest mistress to the other side of the room but her protective wards shielded her from the blast. As Jac-Jaculus closed the door the entire end of the hallway collapsed in, showering Warpstone dust over the debris. Aeliaria finally tore the crippled creature from her hair and threw him at the pile before her. The free floating Warpstone dust was too much for the diminutive rat and he began to mutate as he breathed in the high volume of poisonous rock dust. His skin tore and multiple new-formed mouths began eating away at themselves as he screamed in agony, lashing tentacles were quickly formed and rotted away as poor Dorat turned into a miniaturized Chaos spawn. Aeliaria was shocked at the extreme transformation but the warding tattoos over her body began to react to the dust that was slowly enveloping her and she was forced to exit the collapsed room before she too took on the fate of the spawn.

Inside the Council of the Horned Rat Warlord Jac-Jaculus was reduced to a prone position. He could barely believe that after all his hard work, after clawing his way from being a lab-thing to the Lich Priests to becoming leader of Clan Husk and worshipped by many man-things of the Cult of the Horned Rat he was finally here within the chamber. It met the basic descriptions that he had heard about it; in the center was the table where the Council of Thirteen would meet, and around it was the thirteen chairs, twelve for the leaders of Skavenkind and one representing the will of the Gnawer of the Roots of Reality himself. The chair itself was so steeped in dark powerful magic’s that Warlord Jac-Jaculus could barely bring himself to look upon it, though he did. He stared dead and hard at that seat calling upon the will of the Horned One, practically daring him to strike Jac-Jaculus down now but of course no attack came for he was a Chosen One. The Horned One had guided his path here and if there was any doubts that to His will of the Warlord’s Inheritance this simple act dashed them all aside.
For the rest of the room it was simply indescribable. It literally held the very essence of the Skaven in virtually every part of it; every stone, every object, everything. Actually it was so much for his undead brain that as soon as he turned away from one section of the room he forgot what it looked like.
“And now, my final preparation towards my Inheritance,” with that Warlord Jac-Jaculus set out to work.

Some time later on the front lines Warlord Jac-Jaculus appeared beside his Chieftain, the rat was so shocked that he almost stabbed at Jac though held back at the last moment.
“Master! You-you’ve returned!”
“Yes now tell me-me, how fairs the battle?”
“Bad-bad master, we’ve lost our entire slave-Cultist force though that was to be expected. The Dervishrats suffered heavy losses though not-not without tearing through a good chunk of the elf-things and the Assassins have been cutting away at their leaders wherever possible, but no matter how much we-we kill them we cannot match their numbers. We simply are not used to fighting when we are the ones outnumbered! Because of this many of-of our still living troops are on the verge of fleeing, at least those who have not already fled.”
“It-it matters little now, I’ve spoken with the others and-and the fall back has been completed, our task here is done.”
The Warlord let out three quick whistle blasts and a few moments later one of the Clan Abrak cartographers appeared out from a tree stump.
“Quick-quick Abrak we need to make our retreat and join with the rest of our Legions, tell us the quickest way to-to our allies.”
“I-I am sorry Warlord Jac-Jaculus but that is-is simply impossible at this point. The elf-things fill practically every tunnel now between here and the rest of our troops, I-I’m afraid that it would be suicide to make the trip now.”
Jac-Jaculus grimaced at the weak map maker, who cowered under the glare but he stilled his hand.
“Then we head for-for Tobaro. I assume there is still open passage to-to our allied city yes?”
“Yes-yes Warlord.”
“Good. Send out word to the other two, there is nothing more we can do for the city of Skavenblight. The elf-things may have taken it for now but we will be back and on-on that day the fighting will-will be on our terms.”

Warlord Jac-Jaculus followed the cartographer though before once again moving underground he took one last look at the Shattered Tower off in the distance. Just before turning back though he could have sworn the saw the aura of Lady Aeliaria, the Forest Mistress. She was staring back down at him and the mutual hate between the two could of sparked a fire.
I will return… he said to himself. Once again we shall inherit.
With that the Warlord strode underground, smiling to himself as he felt the Horned Rat’s guiding claw upon his back.
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scrivener
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*toot*

Nice work, very nice work... :D It's cool to see some established lesser clans in there, makes it feel historical, in a way. And Skritchfang is nicely ominous and grim. :D
hannanibal
 
*Angry mob assembles*

"WHAT DO WE WANT!!??"
"A THINNISH, WATERY PAINT WITH A GREENER TINGE THAN AGRAX EARTHSHADE!!"
"WHEN DO WE WANT IT!?"
"QUITE SOON PLEASE AS MY LAST POT IS RUNNING OUT!"
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Morgoth
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The Ancient Evil

Captain Meriones was a very proud Skaven, and therefore considered somewhat of a fool amongst a lot of his own equals.
He was tormented by the fact, that all his battles had been lost, and two of them even massacres. Returning to Lord Grimesh as defeated and dishonored was not an option.

At least the army had been reinforced by a liche priest, raising a lot of dead warriors. Skaven as well as humans.

Meriones took a long look at a warhorse, whose rider had been killed in the previous battle. The Desert Rat Commander took a deep breath, and sneered at some nearby nomadwarriors.
"You there! Help me up on that thing. And tell me how to control it"
The whole camp stared in disbelief, as their armycommander mounted and began to master the beast. And noone dared laugh, as he fell off after a short while. But eventually ,he got some hold of it.

"No more digging trenches and dying in them. Tomorrow we attack full-force as in breakthrough. After our cavalery attack, the dead-things will swarm all over the enemy"
The crowd cheered. If a Skaven could ride a horse, anything was possible.

OOC: Quite pale after the masterpiece from NurgSquee, but strange things really happens in HotW.
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The Ancient Evil

Once again Captain Meriones beheld the proud city of Khemri.
The Jewel of Nehekhara. He had only been there once, when he was appointed Captain of the Guard. A political gesture as Nagash saw a use for the growing number of skavens, that swarmed over the northern part of his reign. But Meriones, always seeking acceptance from the Nehekharans, couldn't have cared less about politics. Actually he never realized the purpose of the title, but was bursting with pride, returning to the tribe of Lord Grimesh, showing off to his friends with his Khopek.

But something had changed. Born in the northern wastelands, surrounded by dunes, living in a tent and visiting nehekharan cities as he rose in status, offcourse he was impressed. The magnificent buildings, the beautifully crafted pavement. All impressive. And it still was.

What was different? Meriones didn't feel the same awe anymore.
And it came to him in the night before the battle to defend the holy city.
He had seen Skavenblight.
A place filled with rot and decay. Ruins and filthy tunnels. But it had touched him. It had fulfilled his need of belonging. Probably the very reason , that he wanted to be a part of the glory of Nehekhara so much, even knowing that the humans would always look down upon him and his kind.

He had fought there in the final hours of Skavenblight with immense focus, although he actually hadn't slain a foe yet, but then, he was needed to coordinate and guide his troops. Alas only one last stand defending Skavenblight, the capital of his kindred, thus ensuring the escape of many prominent leaders. Battling with their backs to the wall through mysterious Tobaro, loosing more men at Zandri, but never loosing hope.

He would return to Skavenblight eventually, but now the tool to get there was to defeat those little-things that approached his other capital. Was he not the controller of that beast, that only the humans, they had annexed to their tribe, dared mount? Not even Lord Grimesh, the venerable old skaven that had taught the young challenging nomadchieftain his last lesson in this life (an old skaven is a dangerous skaven, or he wouldn't be old) even approached these great steeds. But Captain Meriones dared ride it in combat. And at dawn, finally his new spear would taste blood.

For Khemri and for Skavenblight.
_________________
Greetings from Lord Grimesh
Nomad King of the Northern Wastelands
Greetings from MorgothPosted Image Mostly Clan Eshin, occasionally Clan Husk.
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SingTheScreams:   "....we ain't no chaos-worshipping freaks. We be ratmen, and we do as we please......"

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Can You Dig It?
heres a bit of my amature fluff hopefully its better than the last


Chieftain Slyfe stood sullenly watching the hordes of rats leaving Skavenblight. Slyfe pondered over his meeting with warlord jac jaculus and the discussions of joining his so-called mighty clan Husk. Slyfe thought it over weighing up the pros and cons of joining with the undead skaven. Suddenly slyfes aid came out of nowhere “Sir we have orders to leave” the skinny rat gasped, clearly out of breath from the long run from the officers tent. “yes-yes we shall go” said Slyfe as he marched with his army Slyfe thought over the events that had happened at skavenblight. When he and his army marched in they had been greeted like scum all the skaven from Skavenblight had been wary of the rugged tanned skaven but Slyfe had proved his worth on the battlefield. Winning 3 battles in a row. Slyfe reminisced back to the time where his little bandit army were weak at fighting and only good at killing defenceless town folk. But now they had been drilled into an elite army of hardened veterans.

It had been 2 hours of the march and slyfe was still undecided on the offer from lord jac jaculus. Joining Clan husk would actually be very rewarding he would have free access to warriors and cultists. And of coarse he would be one of Jacs highest generals he had already proven his worth on the battlefield . And the way Warlord Jac had spoken about how he could turn clan husk into one of the most respected clans in all of skavendom. The chance of being famous for being a main general in a clan as mighty as clan husk was destined to be. Slyfe could now not refuse this offer “Quick send word The mighty bandit chieftain will now join the mighty clan husk” he yelled to one of his underlings who immediately went off scurrying. “Excelent Slyfe Could not hod the glee from his voice after this war he would have the backing of a clan and more citys to pillage and Slyfe had grown fond of the taste of Asrai Blood
Happyness is like wetting yourself everyone can see it but only you can feel its warmth [size0](Shamelessly stolen from a dude at 40konline)
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Morgoth
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The Ancient Evil

Turn 44 fluff: Change in command

The leaders of Phar Legion had been summoned to the command-tent. They expected another tactical dispute, well, more orders than dispute, or maybe news of the missing Lord Khrenesh, but they were in for a big surprise.
“My faithful and loyal followers. ” Eli Tel-Resha started “I shall not waste our time. Our High General Ammon-Dhannesh has resigned and gone on a personal crusade”
Most of the listeners stared at the Aseph-priest in disbelief. High Generals in the Nehekharan army didn’t just go their own way.
Tel-Resha raised his hand “Don’t ask. We speak no more of Ammon-Dhannesh now. But I must inform you, that I have been appointed as his successor.”

“Brilliant” Horus the priest cheered “You definately deserve it, but I trust, you will still lead Phar Legion?”
“No” Lord Dhaakash cut him off “He can not. No disrespect intended my general, but the high command does not fight in the field with the rest of us. I believe, our leader must join with King Nephka to do the tactics, and we will only hear from him through orders.”
“True” Eli Tel-Resha answered with a sigh “ Although I will ride and fight with you, untill we have releaved the holy city of Khemri from the blasphemous attackers, I have indeed chosen one to lead Phar Legion after me”

“Really?” Lord Nephren Ka said, sadly knowing that since he hadn’t heard anything prior to the meeting, he was not the chosen. “Then who of us shall lead?”
The newly appointed High General shrugged “Many of you has proven your worth in many aspects, but the high command, which also means me now, has chosen another brilliant leader for you. A leader capable of combining the best of various races for the benefit of Nehekhara.” With a nod he signaled to a guard, who moved a curtain to another room in the large tent. “ I give you your new commander”

A hunched figure, clad in a brown robe and supported by a cane entered . A hood covering his face, as he remaining in shadows strode in front of them.
But one recognized the figure silently approaching.
“Lord Grimesh, my ruler” Captain Meriones shouted and knelt.
The creature threw back his hood, and from the furred snout he hissed. “ My brave big-mouthed Meriones. You just had to ruin my dramatic entrance, right-yes? “
The Nomad King turned towards the gathered men.
“Greetings men, skaven , others. But all Nehekharans. And that is what counts today. Nehekhara is threatened. Our cities under siege or invaded by inferior beings. We must and can use our differences to our advantage. We all have various talents, and when we work together , no one can hold against us. This is the time to raise all our powers and crush the enemies of Nehekhara.”

No one spoke, but many glanced at King Ash Ibn Seladil, who would have been the obvious choise. Grimesh was some sort of king too, but Nomad King was not an accepted title by the nobles of Nehekhara. And being a Skaven , an immigrant race many only had heard tales about, was definately nothing compared to humans.
But Ibn Seladil has been informed forehand, and had accepted his place second in command. For now. “I hear, he is not so bad a commander” he merely laughed at the baffled bystanders.
Warlord Jac-Jaculus just smiled as usual. Leaving the impression, that he always knew, what was going on. And maybe he did, as he often sent Chieftain Slyfe the Knife on missions secret to anybody except Tel-Resha, who had told those who complained not to worry. “Slyfe is a creature of the night. He does, what he does best”

Prince Shabaka was the next to speak “So, it has come to this now. Very well. I trust our high command and will follow orders. Even from a Skaven, if it is the best for our kingdom.”
“Agreed” Lord Maximus mumbled, but Lord Kharah the Pale spoke loud and clearly “I hope, you know what you do, rat-man. I will obey too, but should you fail, I will be right next to you. And not to grant you a safe fall.”

Grimesh just stared back for a moment and chittered “Fine-good. Opinions welcome, don’t hold back, but for now enough of this cosy small-talk. Time to get serious. There are many of our comrades, who have been trapped in Kharaz Dhraz. This is how, we free them.......................”


Our influence is growing . A skaven commanding (at least fluffwise) the largest and most powerfull legion of the Nehekharan forces. WE SHALL INHERIT
Greetings from MorgothPosted Image Mostly Clan Eshin, occasionally Clan Husk.
Proud keeper of the Poking Stick of Doom, known to many a RPG-player Posted Image
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SingTheScreams:   "....we ain't no chaos-worshipping freaks. We be ratmen, and we do as we please......"

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scrivener
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*toot*

Huzzah! Congrats on the promotion by the way. :D

Just wondering, will we see the desert rats with the skaven at the end of the campaign? Think of it as an investment in securing Clan Husk's position in the new Council of Thirteen. ;)
hannanibal
 
*Angry mob assembles*

"WHAT DO WE WANT!!??"
"A THINNISH, WATERY PAINT WITH A GREENER TINGE THAN AGRAX EARTHSHADE!!"
"WHEN DO WE WANT IT!?"
"QUITE SOON PLEASE AS MY LAST POT IS RUNNING OUT!"
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Morgoth
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The Ancient Evil

We had really hoped to do something together with skaven for the grand finale, but Phar Legion is extremely busy cleaning up Khemri. (bloody woodies with their bloody stand-off).
But that gives us acces to the holy places of the Neheks. Not that we would dream of taking benefit of that :rolleyes: :beer:
The relations between Skaven and the living Nehekharans has never seemed better though. And with the growing clan Husk as a link between ambassadors from both sides.................. ;)
Greetings from MorgothPosted Image Mostly Clan Eshin, occasionally Clan Husk.
Proud keeper of the Poking Stick of Doom, known to many a RPG-player Posted Image
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SingTheScreams:   "....we ain't no chaos-worshipping freaks. We be ratmen, and we do as we please......"

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