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Warp Token Update
🕑 Added 2024-03-21 05:12:23 +0000 UTC2.5.9k words
***
-xXx-
What followed was four days of hiking through deep woods, the scenery changing little apart from a few winding rivers and steep gullies. The weather remained clear, a serene breeze cooling the fur on Skyseeker’s arms, the way it filtered through the leaves creating a quiet ambience she’d not experienced since first setting foot onto the blighted marshes.
The dark canopy covering her from the sky was a welcome sight after spending all that time beneath the open skies of the hills. Skaven were raised to live and die in the under-empire, and it was simply unnatural to dwell out in the open for so long. The warriors of the vermintides got used to it after a time, too distracted by feasting and fighting perhaps, but Skyseeker wasn’t looking forward to leaving this forest anytime soon, their encounter with the griffon still fresh on her mind, and would stay fresh for years to come. Her glands had never felt so thoroughly drained then when that monster had almost caught her.
At least the man-thing’s gift would give her a chance to elude the overgrown bird if it ever caught up with her, Skyseeker tugging the leafy cloak tighter over her shoulders, listening quietly to her companion’s odd accent. They spoke of many unremarkable things to pass the time during those four days, but there was one particular point of conversation that stood out among the others.
When the sun reached its highest point in the sky, the man-thing – no, Roderick he called himself – had called for a break, grunting as he sat down upon the edge of a small clearing, shaking his long fur out as he flipped his helmet off. Its colour was not unlike that of the sun, long enough to pool around the plates protecting his neck. It looked soft, not as soft and maintained as her implacable fur, of course, but its bright colour was very unusual.
Regaining her concentration, she opened her muzzle to chide him that he was prolonging the walking with all this resting he was doing, but held back at the last moment. She could feel the heat radiating off his suit of armour, its added helping very little now that their enemies weren’t around. She decided that chiding him later would be the better approach, Skyseeker joining him as she sat in the grass beside him.
“Why does Rick-rod scurry away from Tilee-place man-things?” she asked, chewing on a piece of leftover venison. They’d carried what they’d could from the deer he’d shot, Skyseeker stuffing every free pouch and pocket, her cloak stinking of fresh meat. “Rick-rod not like other man-things?”
“Would you introduce yourself to the next Skaven you saw?” he asked back. Their travels across the foothills had not been entirely isolated. At one point during a night (she couldn’t remember which), it had been her turn to keep vigilant watch over their camp, and during one of her quick power naps something had startled her awake. She’d hopped to her feet, her blades glinting in the night as she slipped them from their sheathes, spotting torchlight flickering through the trees to her left, the murmur of man-thing conversations reaching her sensitive ears.
Her next move had not been to swing her weeping blades and go to battle, though the idea certainly crossed her brilliant mind. Instead, she’d let her glands squeeze out their fear musk, then moved to wake Roderick. She’d told herself it was because he was more experienced with interacting with man-things, but the truth was a lot more shameful than she cared to admit. She’d layered the woods with her fear-musk, like a skavenslave who’s just been caught slacking off by his master, and her glands only stopped spraying when Roderick was awake, able to watch her back as the man-thing patrol moved away. Feeling his eyes on her still made her fur itch, but it itched not because of discomfort, but because she just wasn’t used to having someone simply look at her for any length of time.
“Suppose not,” she admitted, pausing to eat her third breakfast. Before them was a gentle slope, the meadow upon it filled with yellow flowers shaking in the gale, the forest beginning again on the far side. “But I am breeder,” she added. “I have reason to hide. What yours?”
“These lands may be held by men, but they are not part of the Empire,” he replied, leaning his hands on his knees. “Many Imperials have attempted to change that, but the mercenaries drove every one of them away. Tilean-Empire relations nowadays are mostly in the realm of trade.”
“Then, they are Empire friends? Rick-rod not making sense.”
“Friends on parchment, sure,” he replied. “But the distance between my homeland and this place is far, and things tend to become a little… muddled, when one travels to the other. Our relations with these people are as tenuous as a taut piece of wire. They’re not exactly pleased about our efforts to annex them, but they’re still willing to trade with us, if only because few other great powers will.”
“Understanding,” she muttered. “Great Clans diplomacy, much the same-same, except in Skavenblight Clan Lords sleep in same city! Make for very interesting days sometimes. Big street fights, most common, and very profitable! Man-thing relations have much in common with Skaven it seems!”
“No, they don’t,” he insisted. “Your case might make some leeway with the squabbling Tilean city-states, but the Empire is cut from a whole other cloth.”
She had no idea what the adage meant, but she pressed on without asking about it. “Empire not have squabblings? No street fights or usurpation! Sound boring!”
“We have… some of those things, sure,” he admitted. “We are not perfect, any who claim we are is a fool, but our weaknesses are derived from the individuals, not the whole. The teachings of Sigmar have been gently curtailed over the centuries, those with too little faith, or too much money have been allowed to rise up and weaken the true nobility of the Empire.”
“Rick-rod said Empire was best place before,” Skyseeker said. “Now you say it’s weak place? How you know that?”
“Because I am one of those people,” he said. “It’s no secret my family’s wealth is substantial. I was gifted every advantage I could get when I enlisted, and corners were cut so much they started to become little curves. Now it’s all come back to bite me in the rump, hasn’t it? I’ve not set foot, let alone seen my homeland in what feels like a lifetime.”
“You’ll go back,” she insisted. “Rick-rod warlord! Empire sound like it needs all warlords it can get!”
“If they even have use of me any longer,” he replied, clutching his elbows in his hands. He looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. “My faith in Sigmar was tested, that day I assaulted that village captured by the secessionists. Those who wanted me exiled claimed I had failed both Sigmar and the Emperor himself, and not a day goes by where I haven’t wondered if they’re right.”
“Sound like discontent weaved from rival Clan!” she replied. “Man-thing should not listen to lies unless you want it to be truth.”
“But what if it is true?” he asked. “What if my faith has wavered? Why would the Emperor accept me back into the fold after what I did?”
She felt an odd sensation course through her, one that demanded she reassure him somehow. Skyseeker did that in the only way she knew how, by reaching out, and slapping him roughly across the arm. The gesture hurt her more than him, his vambrace too thick for her claws to slice him, but the move got his attention, his blazing eyes commanding her glands to squash in on themselves.
“Rick-rod being stupid once again!” she snarled.
“W-What did you say?”
“IF! If if if if if! That’s all I hear-hear! Man-thing spending so much think-thoughts on superstitions! Rick-rod think I worried over what would happen when sensational Lord chose me for mission? No! Well, a few times, but that’s not point! Didn’t let superstitions stop me-me, except for that one… no, two times…”
“But what if I make the same mistakes again?” he lamented. “Exile would look like a vacation in comparison to what would happen.”
“Rick-rod doing it again! Man-thing needs to stop looking backwards,” she snapped, jabbing a claw against his chestplate, the little clinks the contact made echoing through the woods. “Start looking forwards! When deals are done, rats don’t look at warpstone spent, rats look at thing purchased! Past is dead, future isn’t. Past is spent, future is purchased. Stupid man-thing understand? Yes-Yes?”
“That… might be the first sensible thing you’ve said to me, Skyseeker,” he muttered, glancing at her. “Can’t believe I’m taking life lessons from a rat, but… there is wisdom in your words, lass.”
“Man-thing lucky I am so wise and patient. Now!” she suddenly shouted, rising off the ground. “If you’re done waste-losing time, we have tails to move! Up! And no more sulking!”
She gave his arm a wrench, too weak to actually move him but trying anyway, Roderick watching her vain efforts with a grin.
“Alright, alright,” he muttered, picking up his things as he stood. “You’ve an interesting way of comforting me, but I appreciate the sentiment. Truly. I’ve not had the change to… talk about these things with anyone, not since leaving Reikland.”
“Not… had chance to speak-talk before either,” she replied, his earnest tone catching her by surprise. Every conversation she’d ever held with a rat had always resulted in one side or the other getting stabbed, the exception being her meeting with Lord Gnawdwell, and that could have gone a very different way if he hadn’t made Skyseeker his chosen. Being able to converse with Roderick, without worrying about him trying to murder her, was an oddly liberating experience. “If man-thing want to talk about… things,” she murmured. “Skyseeker’s ears are open. But talk while walk! Efficiency!”
“That I’ll do.”
-xXx-
“They end!” Skyseeker shouted. “Dreaded Horned Rat, they really end!”
Roderick panted a little ways behind her as he crested the hill, Skyseeker perching at its apex as she peered out over the world. The looming mountain ranges that had formed a barrier to the east had finally begun to descend, the towering peaks curdling to the ground as she swept her eyes from their left to their right. Two days ago, they had lowered to a point they weren’t so steep enough as to be impassable, yesterday they had dropped to an elevation rivalling that of the Trantine Hills, and today she could see the point they came to an end, that barrier crumbling to an arrowhead formation at a mark some distance to the south east.
Said arrowhead was coated in brush and trees as it dipped toward the landscape, conjoining to the curdled woods that carpeted the countryside. From Roderick’s descriptions of the province, Tilea was a narrow peninsula, and the ranges ended at its southern tip. Beyond the mountains, the world would begin to slope towards the seashore, and it was there that this leg of her quest would come to its end.
“Told you they would,” Roderick said, pausing behind and to her right somewhere. “Give it another day or so, and Tilea will be but a memory.”
“More like nightmare,” she whispered, raising a claw. “Think little mountains are safe to cross-walk?”
“I’ve heard talk of many dwarven tunnels channelling through those mountains, but I don’t think an assassin such as yourself would have any trouble outmanoeuvring them.”
His words inspired her, and she felt as though the relic she sought for was so very much closer, like it was but one skitterleap away, lying there on the foot of the slopes on the far side, just waiting for her claws to touch its surface.
“I’m afraid this is where I must leave you, Skyseeker.”
She whipped around hard enough she cracked her neck, her confidence shattering into shards that cut a pit inside her stomach. He was staring off into the distance, not at the ending mountain range, but at something on the horizon, motionless beneath all his armour.
“What-What?” she demanded. Now the relic didn’t feel so close anymore. In fact, it felt further away than ever. “Rick-rod leaving?”
“As I said, I have my own business to see to here in Tilea.”
All she could remember was him denying any existence of his personal mission, then keeping its details a secret when she found him out. Still, she’d come to take his company for granted, the notion that she and him would one day part slipping her mind altogether.
“S-Surely man-thing walk me to end of mountains! Not very far!”
The plumes on his helmet flittered as he glanced down at her. “Lass, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sounded almost disappointed just now.”
She clutched her ears in her paws, the fur on her face warming. Forget disappointed, she’d pleaded those last few words, and she hated herself for ever voicing them. She didn’t need a man-thing to accompany her, she didn’t need anyone! She was Skyseeker, Gnawdwell’s chosen breeder! She had the foul blessings of the Lord and the Horned Rat, nothing was unachievable!
But it had not been blessings and titles that had seen her through these lands. The gryphon abomination would have devoured her if she had not been with Roderick, and she was certain more monsters stood between her and the relic. Monsters, and other things far worse than these humans as they called themselves. Could her uncanny skills as an assassin keep her alive forever? She was clever, conniving, but not conniving enough for the gryphon…
She felt Roderick’s eyes on her, and for a long time neither of them said anything, a break in the wind creating an empty moment of silence. It was broken when she heard the tinkling of armour, and she peeked around a hand to see Roderick hunkering down in front of her.
“Perhaps… we could travel on for a little longer.”
She smiled at him, an expression she had not ever done when not within ten feet of a piece of warpstone, that pit in her stomach washing away. “Then let’s move tails!” she squeaked, setting off down the hill.
“Just a moment,” he added hurriedly, seizing her by the arm, the contact making her bristle. Letting herself be grabbed was also something she had never done before, at least without killing the grabber soon after. Despite his brazenness, she felt no urge to stab the man-thing, and the realisation was both alarming and soothing at the same time.
“I… must tell you something, lass,” he began, chewing his lip before he continued. “Thought about this for a while now, and I’ve come to the conclusion that, since we are not enemies, I may as well be truthful to you. Hope that you feel the same way.”
“Secrets?” she asked, leaning her muzzle closer to his strange, flat face.
“Yes, secrets. I told you that I came here because I was exiled, but there is a reason I came to Tilea specifically, and that’s because I’ve got a task of my own.”
“Task? What task?”
For a moment he said nothing, a subtle shift in his eyes betraying his next words. “I think you already know that, lass.”
For a second she was bewildered, and then it hit her, and suddenly everything made a lot more sense. She had called Roderick stupid many times, but she had been the stupid one for not realising sooner. It is not just the Skaven who are aware of the weapon’s emergence from the sands, Lord Gnawdwell’s words echoed through her thoughts. Man-things, green-things, strange-things and dead-things, we would be fools to think we are the only ones who are aware of this resurgence of power.
“You… want relic-thing?”
Roderick sighed, then nodded. “The Imperial magicians spoke of a growing power somewhere out in the southern deserts. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
“…You, want relic thing,” she stated, shrugging.
