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Past Deeds, Future Plans; The Nemesis Chronicles Part II
Topic Started: 16th July 2007 - 02:35 PM (306 Views)
SneakyRodent
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Claws of the Horned One founder member

Previous Chapters:

Journey's Beginning
Pieces in Motion

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In the depths of the Ulricsberg a solitary figure sat at a large, battered desk. A long staff lay atop the piece of furniture, engraved with symbols and topped by a jet black stone, the clasp of the jewel formed into that of a claw. The almost white fur of the individual was illuminated and tinged by a single green glowing warplamp that threw large shadows onto the walls of the rock room.

Patiently this figure waited. It was almost time for his Eshin triad to make contact, assuming they hadn’t managed to get themselves killed already. But that was a remote possibility – they were among the best operatives that warptokens could buy. And a sneaky endeavour they were despatched upon too…..but until they made their report, Grey Seer Skritchit of Clan Virulus contented himself with memories of the past.

It was good to be home. Yes, home, for here in the Ulricsberg depths this rat and his Clan had lived before. Shortly after the Storm of Chaos they had conquered here, but necessity had moved them out of the depths – and out of perceived existence – until mere weeks ago. Their reappearance, suddenly and in their hundreds, had caused Warlord Wynnar (the current Lord of the Ulricsberg) a heart attack, but he was an ally of old and Skritchit had assured him that the rulership of the mountain was not on his agenda. Which was true enough; for Skritchit’s aims were far, far higher.

But The Storm of Chaos…how long ago that seemed now. The hordes of Archaon, broken at the walls of the man-thing city of Middenheim. Clan Virulus had been busy fighting against the Chaos hordes at the command of their leader; Skritchit had long foreseen the disaster that would have befallen the entire world had Archaon succeeded in elevating himself to Godhood. But in going against the majority of the Skaven Clans who had blindly followed the Chaos hordes, Skritchit had been kept ignorant of the Doom Hemisphere plot, only discovering about the scheme at the very last moment. The part detonation of the device had all but wiped out Clan Virulus as they had fled the Ulricsberg tunnels.

In the months that followed, a great number of Clans had sought to gain power in the north. Skritchit and Clan Virulus had joined forces with a number of them, forming a faction that became known as the Claws of the Horned One. Other Factions came to being, and it was not long before a long and bloody Civil War erupted throughout the Skaven tunnels. Factions rose and fell, great deeds and plots were planned and achieved. Skritchit himself had assumed control of the UnderCity of the Ulricsberg, a position he had coveted right from the moment he had first clapped eyes on it. Of course, the former Warlord in that position, a certain Rattsu the Black, had had something to say about Skritchit’s plans, and a vicious war had taken place in the twisted depths of the mountain. In a final showdown Skritchit and Rattsu had fought paw to paw, and victory had only been achieved by the width of a whisker.

The Seer smiled grimly at the distant but still crystal clear memories. Other rats would have been content to rest on their laurels at this point, but not Skritchit. Oh no. Consolidating his power in the Ulricsberg was only the start. After that, there was the small matter of locating the remains of the Doom Hemisphere itself. The sheer destructive power caused by the part detonation of the device had been impressive enough, but Skritchit had also detected something within the winds of magic that suggested that the explosion had created a less obvious side effect.

Months had passed whilst the Skaven civil war had raged on and on. The Grey Seer had drawn closer and closer to the final resting place of the device, battling the twisted and nightmarish creatures and conditions of the Ulricsberg deep. Finally he had come across a vast subterranean cave, undoubtedly hollowed out when the Doom Hemisphere had detonated. It may not have been ground zero itself, but it was close enough and it was in this place that Skritchit had finally understood.

The Doom Hemisphere had not simply just exploded, twisting the Ulricsberg and the reality immediately around it. It had caused a rent in time, creating a temporal echo through the fabric of history itself. In this place the Grey Seer had expended hundreds of slaves experimenting with the twisting energies that flowed throughout the cavern. They aged in seconds, or reverted to newborn litters. Many disappeared altogether, some to reappear suddenly days or weeks later. All perished horribly due to the shock to their systems.

But they were slaves, and there were always more where they came from. Using his extensive magical prowess and knowledge he had gleaned from those connected with the Doom Hemisphere construction, Skritchit had begun to learn how to safely deal with the chaotic power. It was during this period that the fortunes of the Claws of the Horned One took a turn for the worse in the Civil War. Betrayed by another one-time allied faction, the Claws began losing ground. Skritchit saw the possibility of defeat, a concept he could not entertain. He took heavily to the warpstone snuff, and it was during this time that he had a vision from the Horned One himself. Skritchit knew then why he had been brought to the Ulricsberg during the Storm of Chaos; why he had been led to seek out the resting place of the Doom Hemisphere; and what to do next.

Paying Clan Skryre Engineers handsomely, the leader of Clan Virulus had overseen the creation of a huge device in the Ulricsberg depths. Its aim was to harness the temporal energies and widen the tear opened by the Doom Hemisphere. Grey Seer Skritchit knew what he must achieve – the transportation of his entire Clan far into the past, at a point before even the Slann crawled from the world’s oceans; there to settle and prosper, ensuring that the Old World was inhabited by Skaven, united and ready to achieve truly magnificent things in the name of the Horned One. And so, ultimately, Skritchit had expended his magic and the power of the infernal machine to punch a rift in reality; and Clan Virulus had disappeared from the Ulricsberg and time itself.

The Grey Seer’s claws scratched into the desk’s wooden surface as the memories continued. There was no smile on his face now. Fate had conspired against him. What had begun as a promising enterprise had ended in a series of disasters. Clan Virulus had appeared in the past, but not as far back as Skritchit had planned. They had appeared within a great forest, surrounded by rolling green hills. The Clan had settled within a large mountain that already had an extensive tunnel network, and had despatched scouts to ascertain their location.

To Skritchit’s fury it was discovered that they had only jumped back a few hundred years at most. The Empire was already formed, all the races established and settled. Worse, there was a High Elf settlement horribly close at hand, and it was not long before Clan Virulus and the Elf-things of Tor Thana went to war. As the conflict escalated Skritchit attempted the recreation of another Doom Hemisphere device in an attempt to obliterate the Elf city completely; but the enemy had learnt of the plan, and launched a furious assault on the Skaven mountain before the device could be completed. When it became obvious that Clan Virulus was to be defeated, Skritchit used the last of his energies attempting to reverse the magics used in his escape into the past; he succeeded, but only managed to bring with him a fraction of his Clan’s former numbers. As a parting gift Skritchit had set the unfinished device to explode; and after his arrival back in the present he had learnt that its detonation had not only vaporised the top of the mountain now known as the Giant’s Tump, but had scattered corrupting warpstone over the entire region of what was now called the Barren Hills. But the Elf-things at Tor Thana had seemingly survived, and the hatred of them burnt brightly in Skritchit’s heart.

Skritchit had lain awake for many nights, wrestling with doubts. Why had the plans of the Horned One, laid out so clearly to him all that time ago, been thwarted? True, the incompetence of the Skryre engineers who had built the original portal must be taken into account, but none of them had survived to face Skritchit’s wrath. But there must be some other reason, some explanation. And only a week or so after Clan Virulus had returned from history itself, Skritchit had had his answer.

The Nemesis Crown. An artefact from the past, now loose upon the world once more. An item so potent that on the head of a competent leader all of Skavendom may be united, to finally bring about the fall of the Over-world. In an instant Skritchit understood. It was to be him. The Horned One had not turned his back on the Seer at all; he had put him in a place in time where he could finally witness the great coming of the Vermintide. And not just witness it – lead it.

The Council of 13 of course saw things differently. They had other plans for the Nemesis Crown, but Skritchit once again saw it was time to ignore their orders. When he attained the Crown, he swore that the Council Chamber at Skavenblight was going to be his first stop. Skritchit was already rehearsing the finer points of his observations as to where the Council failed to accurately interpret the Horned One’s wishes, and the fate of those members who did not admit to the error of their ways. But for now, as is second nature to Skaven, Grey Seer Skritchit would appear to tow the line. Indeed, shortly he was to lead his Clan out of the Ulricsberg to rendezvous with the Clan of Warlord Scarfester ,and on the Council’s orders were to march to the Barren Hills to wage war. Skritchit had at least smiled at that part, as it was too good an opportunity to miss in looking in on the Elf things at Tor Thana.

But before then, he needed to speak to his triad. It would be they, not any of the armies already despatched, who would have the biggest say in the fate of the Nemesis Crown...
Grey Seer Skritchit
Lord of the Ulricsberg
Clan Virulus
Holder of 'Best Post' Award 2007 here
Took part in the glorious Lords of Decay Revolution of April 1st 2012

The complete works of SneakyRodent can be found here

.:WarWolt The Mad Engineer:.
 
Sneaky is Sneaky, why is the sky blue?
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We've got a psychic creeper, a tactical master, and a liar who talked himself out of an execution.

(Scrivener on the Scum And Villainy2 characters of me, DamnedPrince and himself)
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Scarfester
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Scaaarrrrghhh

Excellent Sneaky. :)
It looks like a new faction is forming and one that may spell doom for the city of Tor Thana.

By The Horned One, I do love a good scheme. ^_^

I shall be posting my next piece tonight I think. :)
Dema in a PM about my fluff
 
Wish I could plot like you can, you must have a mind like a corkscrew to turn all those scheming corners

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