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The slave trade; caz'z attempt at fluff writing
Topic Started: 25th May 2007 - 11:20 AM (522 Views)
Chieftain Cazgar
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Prophet of Plastic
Sciz hurried along, the long procession of slaves following behind him. He stumbled, and twisted about, daggers drawn. He relaxed as he learnt that the cause of his stumble had been one of the hundred slaves stepping on his cloak. The foul smelling creatures were unarmed and weak, and knew that their only chance of salvation was Sciz, the hireling assassin.

Above them the dull sound of Captain Raukov’s voice could be heard, as he preached his visions of power to the high ranking and upper social class of Egondorf. Sciz grinned without pleasure, soon he would end the miserable wretches speach and hand the pitiful slaves behind him over to a new master. They believed they were gaining freedom, and promotion into the ranks of clan rat, had they not, Sciz was certain they would not of been nearly as co-operative as they had been.

The tunnel was long and winding, but at last they reached the door into the upper level of the clans dwellings. Sciz raised a paw, his motions fluid, and his hand barely visible in the dim light. The slaves stopped, as if transfixed, and awaited the assassin’s next move. He drew a blade with his right hand, and slowly, carefully twisted the door handle. But it was locked. Sciz was annoyed, but not alarmed. He slowly let the handle go back to its original position, and took out a warplock pistol. He’d purchased it recently off of a Skryre agent, and had found it quite effective thus far. He stepped to the side and motioned a slave forward. Pushed forth by those around him, the nearest slave cowered before the menacing figure of the assassin.

“Arm-arm out” hissed Sciz, hardly waiting he grabbed the slaves arm before the creature knew what was going on. He placed it between the pistol and the lock. He turned back again to the rest of the party “another here-come. Cover mouth, snuff out noise” another slave came, and pinned the ‘silencer’ slave against the wall and covered his mouth forcefully. Sciz pressed the pistol into the slaves arm, making sure to align the path of the bullet with the lock.

The musk of fear was apparent, and the slave’s shaking was causing Sciz’s pistol to move now, satisfied with his aim, the assassin squeezed the trigger. The slave inhaled sharply, blood gushing out from his arm. Sciz re-holstered the gun and pushed the slave to the floor. “Leave-him, benefactor no pay for damaged goods”. The wounded creature began to whimper, causing Sciz to smile joylessly. He was happy with his innovative fleshy silencer, but the squeals of the slave were sure to give his position away. With that he took his blade and effortlessly sliced at the creatures throat, ending its miserable life there.

However, the sound of the bullet hitting the door and the whimpering slave had alerted the attention of the storm vermin outside none the less. And soon Sciz heard the sound of armoured boots marching toward the door. He motioned the slaves back and leapt up, balancing upon the rickety doorframe. The door opened and 2 dark furred Skaven in heavy, rusted armour entered the narrow corridor.

The larger of the two hissed at the mass of slaves “whaar you do here-here?! You be sorry-sorry when Warlord master find ou-“. The guard cut off there, and what followed was the clang of a helmeted head hit the floor. The slightly smaller storm vermin twisted around, just as Sciz had anticipated, right into the assassin’s blade. It pierced the chink his shoulder armour. The dagger had struck true, but the well-built storm vermin was used to pain, and the wound was not mortal. The burly creature grabbed Sciz’s neck and gripped tightly, choking the assassin. But Sciz was caught off guard only momentarily, and drawing a second dagger slammed the pommel into the burly rats chin. Knocking his head up for an instant long enough to thrust the pointed end into the soft fur of the storm vermin.

Now it was he that choked, and his grip around the assassin’s neck loosened, his arm falling limply to the side as he fell, collapsing before the assassin’s feet. Sciz kicked the body over and retrieved his weapons. He searched the bodies for anything of worth, and discovered a set of aged keys. Placing these in an inside pocket of his cloak, he nodded to the mass of slaves in front of him and motioned to the door.

The group surged outwards and Sciz searched for the way into the Captains dining hall. To the left and right he could see more twisting tunnels, but dead ahead stood a ladder with a trap door above. Sciz pounced upon the ladder swiftly and carefully eased open the trap door. With the coast clear he climbed up and found himself in a wine cellar. He motioned to the gathering of slaves below, and slowly they ascended the ladder until the dank room was swarming with Skaven.

Sciz pushed his way through the crowd and climbed up a set of stone steps towards the large wooden door. The slaves kept well away, fearful that they might be the next ‘silencer’. But there was no need, as the door swung open.

The rats surged forwards through the door, with Sciz the assassin at their front. They knocked over the ornaments in the pricey manor house, and tore down paintings and other artworks in search of the dining room. All this cacophony of pattering feet and smashing sounds caused the Captain and his guests to pause in their meal. The doors burst open, and the rabble of rats stood before the Captain and his guests.

All went silent.

The surreal scene of a hundred, large, man sized rats garbed in dirty clothes, blinking in the bright light of the dinner hall left the guests speechless. No one moved or spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Captain Raukov broke the silence, wishing to assert his power over the creatures and re-assure those who had been dining with him.

“What in Sigmar’s land is this?!” he exclaimed.

Still the silence continued, the slaves bewildered by the lights and open space. And Sciz, caught off guard. He was master of the dark places, of the confined spaces, out here he was as vulnerable as the reeking creatures beside himself.

The captain began to laugh. And the guests took to the idea that this was all some form of entertainment. That beneath wretched looking masks and dirty rags where the Captain’s jester and troupe. The room roared with laughter, men slapping their knees and women doing their best to remain presentable. To those who were used to the constant pattering of light paws, of hushed, delicate sounds, the noise was irksome to the Skaven.

Enough was enough, and Sciz drew his dull blade, the light barely glinting upon it. This action alone was enough to cause the room to fall deadly silent again. Sciz hissed and the slaves surged forwards, like a tide upon the beach.

Leaping onto laps and tables, scrambling about, fighting for food. It had been weeks since the things had seen nourishment, and now they filled their guts, barely pausing to chew their food. Women shrieked and men leapt back, catching those who fainted.

And all the while Sciz remained stationary, his eyes fixed upon the Captain at the head table to his left. A few quick leaps and jumps later he was stood in front of the captain, and with his empty hand he picked the man up by his throat. Sciz could see the terror in his eyes, terror that Skaven did not show. Sciz hissed, spittle spraying upon the mans face. Raukov winced, as if set upon by acid. Sciz was built for lightning quick raids though, and as such strength was not his forte, he threw the captain onto the hard stone ground, his arm unable to take the weight any longer.

He leapt down after him, landing squarely on the man’s chest. “Sciz know all your deal-deals with clan Veeil. You trade secrets for slave-things for own ends. Sciz know this, Sciz told this by benefactor, Warlord of clan Poxtail tell Sciz to get-get slaves for him. Clan Veeil know you tell them secret-lies! Clan Veeil come kill you painful-quick!” Sciz took pleasure for the first time in a while knowing that the man beneath him would soon meet a painful end.

“No, no none of that is true! Get off me you outlandish freak!” exclaimed the captain, trying his hardest to push the assassin off of his chest. The guests, grown accustomed to the emaciated creatures fighting for scraps of food had turned their attention to the captain, and had all that the assassin had had to say.

“Raukov, is this really true?” piped up one of the more confident guests.

Before the captain had chance to speak, Sciz twisted his head sharply, his painful gaze fixing upon the man who had spoke out “yes-yes, all true, man-thing.” Then turning back to the captain beneath himself he continued “Sciz know you meet with clan Veeil hood-cloaked. So they no-know you look like. Sciz help them find you, Sciz tell them to look for man-thing with no left-paw”.

Beads of sweat dripped down Raukov’s face, “L-lies! All lies!” he exclaimed, but Sciz cared no longer. He turned to look at the rabble of slaves and called out for their leader.

An average sized Skaven emerged from the brawl that had emerged on one of the middle tables, and after putting a final jab into the opposing slave scurried over to the assassin’s side.

“Sciz no-no hold down- slice, you-you slice”, and with that Sciz passed the slave a long hooked dagger.

The creature turned it over in its paws, nicking a finger and causing it to bleed prominently. The slave things malicious eyes glinted, and with the assassins back turned, thrust the knife into his saviour. The blade went right through, stopping inches from the captains body. Sciz screamed in pain, full of anguish that a slave had done such a thing. His body spasmed, reeling onto the floor beside the captain. Blood gushed from the wound, front and back, staining the hard stone floor. The assassin tried to leap up, to crush the weakling slave just outside of his grasp. But with the dagger through him his strength seemed to leak out in torrents like his blood. “Whar” he hissed, blood spluttering up and out of his mouth.

It was at that moment the doors on the opposite side of the hall burst open, and through them marched another band of Skaven, well armoured, all equipped with halberds. They were storm vermin, all but one, who was wearing cleaner armour than the others. He was located towards the back, and having entered the group stopped, the storm vermin lowering their halberds and kneeling down, making an impregnable wall of dangerous, halberd tips. Inside the group stood their leader, and upon looking at the dieing assassin he laughed. He stood there snickering, and had it not been for the malice present within his voice it could have been mistaken for that of a child’s laugh.

“Sciz, famed-assassin. We meet at last. Thank you dear-dear for bringing clan Mors new batch of slaves, they work well-well in pits for us, there war-war out there, big-search for dark crown. Queek want-want, and Cazgar get-get. New slave-things aid-aid cause”

Sciz vomited blood down himself, how foolish he had been, if this wound didn’t kill him, clan Poxtail would not rest until Sciz was dead, for surely the treachery would be seen as caused by him.

Enjoying watching the assassin contemplate his doomed fate, Cazgar continued “it was us-us that first made contact with the slave-things, and we promised slave-thing Gnawspit promotion within clan Mors if he betrayed his rescuer. Cazgar thought-thought body guards would have to kill-kill you selves-selves, but no, he do job for us. Gnawspit is good-good slave-thing” satisfied that he’d given the assassin enough information to fill his last living moments with self-hatred at being undone by a slave; Cazgar turned his attentions to the man-thing captain.

The storm vermin stood up, and walked as a single entity over to Raukov, encasing Cazgar in what seemed a living suit of armour. They reached the captain and the storm vermin knelt down again, halberds pointed outwards.

“you tell-tell superiors this green-skin work. No-tell about Skaven. No-no Skaven. Cazgar know where find you, there no escape the eyes and ears of clan Mors” he looked around at his storm vermin and issued an order, “smash-break everything, make it look like green-brutes came here, broke-stomped place”

The armour clad Skaven understood and moved out, heading to the walls and tables, knocking everything over, clubbing guests with the butt of their halberd and smashing tables and chairs. A storm vermin walked past the presumed dead assassin, and felt a sly hand grasp at his ankle. But Sciz was too weak to harm the burly Skaven, and the blunt end of the storm vermin’s halberd crashed into the assassins jaw with a bone-crunching crack, leaving Sciz to splutter his last breaths as best he could.

Satisfied with the destruction caused, Cazgar called his storm vermin back. He pointed his own, un-bloodied halberd at the empire captain, and reiterated his threat. With that he called the slaves to him, their attention unoccupied now that their bellies where full and all the food was gone.

The procession of rats had all but left the room, and was marching down to their current clan dwelling within the surrounding forest, when Cazgar turned back to the empire captain one last time “leave assassin-rat in tunnels below cellar, leave other clans to deal with him-him.” the empire captain nodded, trembling. Satisfied that their work of weakening clan Poxtail, and gaining a hundred odd slaves without doing any dirty work Cazgar carried on, he turned to the rat stood beside him, tiny in comparison.

“Now, Gnawspit, let us speak of your aspirations within clan Mors…”
___________________________________________________________________

i got the idea from a book i read called the scorpion. chances are i won't write any more fluff, this is more of an intro into my role in the nemesis crown. getting it for Queek lol. now, this may not be in keeping with the rest of you guys combined fluff effort, and more in line with the green skins goal lol, but oh well. i liked the original idea so much i just had to skavenise it :P . not sure if this is too long, i don't often write fluff you see. all comments welcome, i'm not sure if some bits may leave people wondering what's actually going on, if that is the case please say so, and i'll do my best to explain
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Warwolt the disturbed assassin
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Ive read it, and I must say its amazing! Very nice theme, I like Sciz :P
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Morgoth
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HEHE

Deception is good. Double deception is double good-good.
I like your story Cazgar.
Also fine character descriptions. And the silencer thing :D

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lashific the Dominator
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great slincer i agree!

well written :o
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SneakyRodent
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Very impressive debut Cazgar. Good work *bsb*
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