Background Story

The Alliance is forged

Klastrik’s tail twitched nervously. He looked around, his one good eye seeing that the nightrunners were moving around in the shadows. This old forest was definitely not a place he felt comfortable in…he would prefer the subterranean caves and tunnels that the Skaven inhabited any day. His other eye, like most other Warlocks’, was replaced by an intricately carved piece of warpstone, that was connected to his optical nerve – it was heavily enchanted, allowing him to see the Winds of Magic. And they flowed strong here. Very strong.
He remembered the words from the Grey Seer – ‘seal a deal’ ‘get more warpstone’ – ‘easy-easy’… If it was that easy, why didn’t the Seer go himself? The Warlock had never encountered the dark elves before, but he had heard of their reputation – cold, cynical killers. Disciplined like the adepts of Clan Eshin. ‘easy-easy my tail’ he thought to himself.

Lord Slayer and his small entourage (consisting of the general, Hemlock the sorceress and 4 guards) travelled to a patch of wood in the dead of night. ‘The Night is Alive’ Hemlock purred. The Sorceress had a knack of stating the obvious. Lord Slayer had felt the movement in the shadows since they entered the small wood. His shades were also out there somewhere, and he thought he occasionally heard a muffled cry or gurgle. No doubt a war was being fought around them in the shadows…
He had a rendezvous with some Rat-men – Lord Slayer was not usually an elf who needed allies – the Dark Elven language had no such word – directly translated, ‘ally’ meant something between ‘stupid’ and ‘gullible’. He had come across a piece of green-glowing substance in his earlier campaigning – ‘Warp-stone, a solid mass of chaos energy’ had Hemlock informed him. Not a lot of value to the Dark Elves but seemingly a great treasure among the Skaven.

Mau’ragn sneaked closer… he and the other Shades had followed the small entourage of Lord Slayer from a distance, making sure that no ‘accidents’ happened. As they had entered a small patch of forest, the Mau’ragn had immediately become aware of rat-men hiding in the forest. They were not doing a very good job of it. Mau’ragn had climbed a tree easily and moved stealthily from tree to tree – he now looked down at the form of a two rat-men hiding on branches below him. Considering that Slayer was on his way to try to convince the rat-men that they should fight alongside him, it would seem strange to the observer that Mau’ragn inched closer towards the ratmen, his twin daggers ready. ‘In the shadows, there is always war’ – the words of Mau’ragn’s old mentor came to Mau’ragn’s mind.
Mau’ragn had positioned himself almost directly above the two rat-men – they hadn’t noticed him at all. He dropped from the branch, and landed dagger-first on top of one of the rat-men, impaling his heart, killing the creature instantly. The other stared at him in surprise as Mau’ragn struck a dagger towards its belly. The rat-creature was fast, however and managed to twist aside, so the blade only struck the trunk of the tree behind him. It suddenly had a throwing star in its hand, and flickered it towards Mau’ragn. The elf was faster. His second dagger caught the throwing star in the air, as his first dagger slashed across the rat-creatures throat. The skaven gave a gurgling sound, as he collapsed. Mau’ragn slipped back into the night.

Lord Slayer stepped into a small clearing. Before him stood a strange rat-creature, it’s tail beating the ground behind it. It looked like half rat half machine. One step behind him stood a screen of ratmen, each wearing the same emblem (if two pieces of wood on the shield could be called an ‘emblem’) – obviously belonging to the same clan.
‘Greetings, ally’ Lord Slayer said, having a hard time suppressing a little smile.
‘You seek the help-help of the mighty Clan Skryre, yes-yes?’
Lord Slayer had no idea what the names of the skaven clans were, but assumed this one belonged to ‘clan skryre’. ‘I come with a proposition’ Lord Slayer held out his hand, and Hemlock placed a small wooden box in it. He opened it and held it so the Warlock could get a look. A glowing green light emanated from the box – a rock the size of a clenched fist.
The Warlock looked at the Warpstone as if in trance….That was a BIG chunk of Warpstone…enough to fuel the fiendish devices of Clan Skryre…maybe he should just kill this Elf and keep it for himself…he would be hunted down by the council of thirteen who had commissioned the grey seer…but he would be strong…strong enough to….
Lord Slayer watched the entranced ratman with some amusement. ‘We destroy the undead abominations of Ramul Morag together – then you get the Warp-stone’ He had absolutely no intention of giving the stone up of course.
‘Yes-yes…but we want-want a sample…’ the strange metallic claw-hand of the Warlock inched forward towards the Warpstone.
Lord Slayer snapped the box shut, almost catching the snout of the creature. ‘Later my diminutive friend – Tomorrow we fight and then you get it’ He turned around and marched out of the clearing, leaving the guards to stare at the suspicious Skaven as they retreated out of the clearing.

Lord Slayer smiled all the way back - Lies, treachery, backstabbing, broken promises. This was almost like recruiting armies back in Nagarroth.