Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Add Reply
Journey's End; TMS, TV, Part VII
Topic Started: 4th June 2007 - 09:59 PM (274 Views)
Morkskittar
Member Avatar
The Tunnel's Resident Rodent Ecologist

Journey's End
The Morkreekian Saga
The Voyage
Part VII

A once mighty Clan had hit the bottom. Clan Morkreek, once the custodians of a vast web of tunnels that ran underneath the entire world, and the proud rulers of hundreds of holds and lairs, had been reduced to six Skaven, in a place outside the realm of reality.

Kraskritch, Keevik, Bellower, Chittersnatch, Skrit-Quoll, and Slavelord Pawblight were the only survivors of the tragedies that shook Clan Morkreek. And it looked now as if they had no chance of survival, either, stranded as they were on a featureless plane of stone somewhere outside time.

Knowing that walking would get them nowehere, Slavelord Pawblight ordered his underlings to follow him. The Slavelord knew that he would probably get nowhere, but he had to do something in order to keep his mind off of his imminent death. Choosing a random direction, Pawblight began to stomp off, not bothering to check to see if his minions were following. After a minute or so, he stopped and did check. Everyrat was looking at him strangely. Keevik cleared his throat nervously.

"Erm, Slavelord? Daasnacht is that way." The Engineer pointed in the opposite direction. Anooyed, Pawblight snapped back a reply.

"And how would you know, O knowledgeable one?" Both Kraskritch and Keevik just gave him a disdainful look, turned around and walked. Skrit-Quoll remained emotionless, while Chittersnatch and Bellower looked as if they shared the Slavelord's deelings about the two Skryre rats. Biting back his anger, Pawblight followed the engineers. The others followed.

They trekked across the featureless plain in almost complete silence. Their pawsteps made no sound. Once, Chitternstahc broke the silence with a complaint.

"How much longer until we get there, Slavelord?" he whined. "We've been walking for hours."

Pawblight did not reply, instead glaring at the backs of Kraskritch and Keevik. Chittersnatch shrugged and did not speak again.

***

In a dark room, far away, in the realm of reality, two hooded Skaven stood over a glass ball. One of them reached into his cloak and pulled out a small vial. He took the cork out and upended the bottle over the glass. A green, glowing liquid poured out, covering the ball with a layer of the thick ooze. The Skaven corked the bottle and replaced it in his cloak. Both of them watched intently as the liquid vanished, showing a scene of a flat, featureless expanse of stone inside the ball. The glass focused on six tiny figures truding across it, towards a much larger figure who flew in the air towards them. One of the hooded figures cackled; it was impossible to tell which. The flying figure began to fly at a lower altitude as it approached the weary group in the glass ball.

***

Kraskritch held up a hand and hissed, "Stop." Without thinking, the others in thr group quicklt came to a halt. Silently, the engieer pointed up in the air. The Skaven squinted and looked up at the multicoloured sky, but at first saw nothing. After a moment, Bellower made a surprised grunt. A dot in the sky was fast approaching them. Kraskritch, using his enhanced mech-eyes, wheeled around to face the group.

"This is him. This is Daasnacht... we are currently in his palace, outside the realm of time. His mortal embodiment as a living island will be destroyed if we kill him here. We will have one chance... he has a weak spot on his chest. You will see it.... it's the only part of him that's bright red. Stabbing it will kill him." Kraskritch looked pointedly at the Slavelord. "You are fastest, and have the best weapons." The engineer gestured towards Pawblight's elongated, metal claws. "Kill him."

Fear gripped the Slavelord's heart. Kill a Daemon? He glanced around nervously; all of his followers were looking at him expectantly. He swallowed nervously. He couldn't back down in front of these Skaven...

"Alright." Kraskritch grinned. "then get ready."

***

The cloaked figures bent more intently over their crystal ball. "Yes... the Daemon is coming. He won't survive."

The other figure glanced at his counterpart for a moment. "And if it fails?"

"Then I will do what must be done." The original speaker regarded the other figure for a moment before looking back down.

Footsteps thudded above them. The two figures looked up from the ball. "The Inquisition!" hissed one. The other quickly threw a cloth over the ball, picked it up, and tucked it into his robe. More footsteps sounded from above. The two figures looked at eachother for a moment before exiting through a door concealed by the table the ball had been sitting on, making sure to conceal it behind them.

Moments later, the door to the room burst open.

***

The Daemon was upon Pawblight faster than he had expected. It had an ugly, leering face, and glowing red eyes. The Slavelord pushed all fear from his mind and rushed forward at it. He brought his righ claw back.

Panic struck as he looked at the thing's chest. There was no red spot. Thinking quickly, Pawblight ducked. The Daemon missed him by a hair's breadth and instead slammed into Keevik and Kraskritch, who had been standing right behind him. The Engineers shrieked horrible as the Daemon lifted them high into the skky and carried them away, cackcling horribly. It vanished into the colourful sky quickly.

Pawblight groaned and sat up just as a vortex of blue energy surrounded himself, Bellower, Chittersnatch, and Skrit-Quoll. Everything went blue.

***

The Slavelord awoke on a grassy shore. Gorggily, he sat up and looked around. Chittersnatch, Bellower, and Skrit-Quoll all were splayed out on the grass. Two figures hurriedly approached the bedraggled group. Pawblight lay back down, so as not to attract their attention.

***

Ambassarat Kirilken of Clan Morkreek and Grey Seer Silvar Greysqueak noticed a tiny figure in the distance sit up, and then lie back down.

"Over there, I believe he is-is," said the Ambassarat. Silvar only nodded, and they adjusted their course appropriately.

Complete Works of Morkskittar
The Eldritch Wastes: A Post-Lovecraftian Online Serial Novel (Author Website)
Pub Fight Deaths: 334. Pillz and Pyllz are © by Morkskittar.
Posted Image
Complete Works of Morkskittar / You Have Just Lost the Game 'zodi
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
« Previous Topic · Fan Fiction and Fluff · Next Topic »
Add Reply