Time to go into the Putrid Stump

If you were to ask any of the other clanrats, they would tell you that Thrak Clawscream was the best guard skaven of all the fellow clanrats. Or, at least, that is what Thrak liked to think the others thought about him. It must be the reason why they always gave him the job of guarding the nest all on his own. It was to ensure that no other clanrat would interrupt his vigil and compromise his ability to guard. It definitely wasn’t because they disliked him, no, that would be impossible. He was the best of the clanrats, being the best warrior and the bravest fighter in all of the warren. So, he had spent the day just like any other day, standing guard outside of his entrance to the warren, his spear in one hand and his nose pointed up to sniff out any intruders.

However, this day had the oddest thing occur. One of the clanrat scouts, Skriskrueel to be more precise, had come to Thrak telling him of the oddest of stories. He had claimed that he captured the man-things that invaded their home, and was going to bring them to the king to see what must be done with them. Thrak had not believed Skriskrueel, as Skriskrueel was not nearly the fighter that Thrak was and would have had no chance to even possibly get close to these man-things. Sure, Thrak had yet to beat Skriskrueel in combat, but that was just because Skriskrueel cheated and Thrak was taking it easy on him. So Thrak had told Skriskrueel that if he had managed to capture these man-things, who mind you had managed to beat the undead man-thing king that killed over a dozen clanrats with a single blow, that he should bring the man-things through his gate and he would help lead them directly to the king himself. But if Skriskrueel was lying, then Thrak would get to have a chance to rip out Skriskrueel’s throat himself. No cheats, no games, just Thrak versus Skriskrueel in one on one combat. Skriskrueel laughed and reminded Thrak what happened last time he tried to fight Skriskrueel, but Thrak just told him to get the man things.

Thrak was expecting to have a good laugh about this with the other skaven. He figured Skriskrueel wouldn’t dare show his supid face again in fear of Thrak.

Then Skriskrueel showed up with three man-things in tow.

This caused Thrak’s jaw to go slack and his weapon to clatter to the floor. Skriskrueel wasn’t lying. He actually managed to capture the man-things. Not only that, but he had done so with not a single scratch on him, and a rather smug look on his face. This caused Thrak’s blood to boil, seeing Skriskrueel so smug and successful. He ran forward to intercept Skriskrueel before any other rats could see them, with the full intention to steal the glory of this capture.

“Skriskrueel! You managed to capture-grab the man-things!”

“I said-told I would.”

Thrak grumbled. “I suppose you did. Now give them to me so I can take-lead them to king.”

Skriskrueel shook his head. “No. This is my capture. I take them.”

Thrak snorted and reached out to grab the rope that tied up the prisoners’ hands. “I said give! You listen to Thrak, or Thrak tell king that you plan to harm him!”

Skriskrueel growled. “You would lie to king?”

“To get rid of you, yes.” Thrak made another grab towards the rope. “Now give!”

Skriskrueel took a step back before chuckling. “You know, Thrak, you’re not entirely wrong. But I guess I can have you snitch-tell king of plan.”

Thrak’s eyes went wide, not realizing that Skriskrueel was an actual traitor. Before he could say anything or react, a spear through the throat stopped any words from escaping his mouth, leaving him to gurgle as he choked on his own blood. Skriskrueel gave him one last menacing smile before everything went dark.

“Damn. That was pretty cold,” John said, watching as Skriskrueel pushed Thrak’s body off to one corner to be eaten by the smaller rats that would invade this part of the tunnel.

“He was going to ruin-break the plan. Had to deal with him now, yes, before he ruin anything,” Skriskrueel said coldly, wiping his spear off before resting it on his shoulder and picking up the rope. “Have you decided who fight king yet?”

John nodded. While he had been able to level up his swordsmanship skill a couple levels, and Mavis agreed that he and Talia had show improvement, they all knew that with such a battle they could not afford any fuck ups. At first they figured that John would be an auto shoe-in to use Mavis in battle, but Mavis said that she would just fight on her own. She wasn’t sure if John was ready to wield her.

“Wait,” John had interrupted. “I’m confused. How would me wielding you be worse than you fighting on your own?”

Mavis thought about how to explain it for a moment or two before saying, “In terms of your powers, the best way I can describe it is that I have a minimum level you have to be at to wield me. Otherwise I would be too heavy or too awkward or too slow for you to use properly.”

“Wonderful. I’m soulbound to a weapon I can’t even use yet.”

Mavis had given him a sympathetic smile and lightly punched his shoulder. “Hey, with training I guarantee you will be ready. And as you get better with your swordsmanship skill, I’ll become a better weapon for you exponentially.” She then looked to Talia. “Plus, if you allow it, I can be wielded by other people you choose. I won’t be perfect in their hands and wont grow with them, but if you wanna see your girls have some fun together, just say the word.” She had given John a wink at that before walking over to Talia to whisper a few things to her. John was pretty sure that Mavis knew he found her insanely attractive, probably through his soul room or what not. Still, he would need to check with Talia first and was still not sure whether Mavis was just harmlessly flirting with him or actually meant what she said.

“We decided,” John said, cutting out of his flashback, “that Mavis would be the one to fight the king.”

Skriskrueel nodded. “Good choice. I’ve seen-watched her fight many times. She is good with her arm-blades.” Skriskrueel looked toward the city. “Remember, skavens will most likely not be happy when you kill king, so just stay defensive and let me do talking. I know how to calm them down. Just… try to look powerful and scary.”

John looked over to Mavis, who stuck out her tongue which had turned into a blade. Talia was giggling before crossing her eyes and touching her tongue to her nose, which in turn caused Mavis to laugh.

John looked back to Skriskrueel, sharing the look of worry John had on his own face. “Well, maybe killing king will be enough to make you seem intimidating.”

John sighed and turned to face the city. “Nevermind that. Let’s go do this.”

With that, Skriskrueel grabbed their lead and slowly took them into the city.

John was not sure if he was to be impressed or horrified with the skaven city of Putrid Stump. On one hand, it was a magnificent feat of engineering that would cause the greatest of engineers to swoon in amazement. Intricate scaffoldings and rungs connected various carvings in the stonework, turning sheer faces of stone into hundreds upon hundreds of homes for various skavens. Bridges connected these scaffoldings to pillars holding up the ceilings and were currently being traversed by skaven carrying around various supplies, although John could not quite see what these supplies were. However, he did observe some warriors training off to the side, or at least he hoped that’s why the skavens were fighting with weapons in hand and not just settling some dispute. Truly, the city was impressive, a modern wonder in terms of conserving what little space they did have and turning it into the most efficient area they could.

On the other hand, he wanted to be horrified as he could also see what the city once was. The pillars that held the ceiling were carved to the shapes of the gods at one point, probably taking decades to carve the intricate details and ensuring that the effigies of the gods displayed their awesome magnitude. However, now they were peppered with holes dug by the skaven, and entire portions of the statues were broken off to make way for the warrens of the ratfolk. In addition, the walls he could tell once had beautiful artwork carved into them, he guessed that they once told great tales of the gods or of Beowulf. Now, there only was a patchwork of random images interrupting the destruction the skaven had caused. The smell was also quite unpleasant, reminding John of the town dump, only more acidic. There was a faint green glow everywhere, from what John assumed the skaven used as a powersource (the real life equivalent of warpstone, probably).

He looked over to Skriskrueel, who held his head up high and walked proudly through the warren as many heads turned to look at him. John gathered that taking a few humans, or man-things he supposed, was not something the skaven expected, considering that anyone that saw them instantly put down whatever they were working on and followed them. Skriskrueel kept his eyes on the prize, taking quick strides straight into the heart of the city with scarcely a twitch to look around him. John could feel his palms sweating. He was certain that Mavis could kill the rat king, but he was less certain about how they would survive the moment after she killed the leader of all these rats. More and more just seemed to pour from the stonework, endless chittering ringing in John’s ears as they all spoke in hushed tones that got amplified into a dull roar of indecipherable noise.

Finally, a loud and clearly understandable voice broke out from the chittering. “HALT-STOP!” John looked forward to see two heavily armored rats guarding a huge door. The one that spoke up kept his gaze locked with Skriskrueel, while the other watched John and his fellow prisoners carefully.

“Step aside, Kreech. I bring-take these prisoner slaves to Thrueetch.”

“He is busy, Skriskrueel. Leave man-things here and we take to him when he done.”

“No! This is my glory, and no other skaven steal-take it from me!” Skriskrueel said angrily, and John was worried what happened at the gate to the city would happen again. Thankfully, the two guards looked to each other and gave a nod, pushing open the doors.

“Fine. But do not be surprised when king gets mad at you for stopping his fun,” the second guard said with an evil grin.

Skriskrueel snorted, tugging on the bindings and leading them inside. Before John could even react, he was given a full view of what it meant when the king was “having fun.” He got a nice view of an overweight ugly skaven pushing himself balls deep into an equally unattractive female skaven.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I have ever seen,” Mavis said plainly. “And I once saw what happens to a guy when he has a firestone shoved right up his ass when he has to shit.”

Talia was keeping her eyes averted, muttering, “Just tell me when he has his clothes back on.”

Skriskrueel walked up closer to the king before taking a knee and bowing. “My dear lord Thrueetch, I bring you gift-offerings, yes. The man-things.”

Eventually, Thrueetch stopped fucking the skaven, letting her scamper past John, Talia, and Mavis, cluing them in that they could look at him. Now able to actually focus on him without immediately wanting to hurl, they could see that he was a pretty large skaven in both height and weight. While Skriskrueel came up to about John’s chest due to his hunch, Thrueetch was a head taller than John. He wore a simple loin cloth (thankfully it fully covered him), had black fur with some bald patches, long fangs that seemed to drip green drool, red angry eyes, and a hairless pink tail adorned with metal rings and spikes.

He growled at Skriskrueel, “Normally I would demand you flayed for daring to interrupt my mating time, yes, but man-things are good prize…” He snorted and laughed, stepping closer to them. John gulped as the skaven grabbed him by the face, causing him to look directly into his cruel eyes.

“This one will make good feast for breeder-mates, yes…. And other two will make good breeder-mates.” He laughed again, and John wanted nothing more than to write a Kenaz directly on him and fry this rat up. However, he remembered to stick to the plan.

He took a deep breath before saying as sweetly as he could, “Great king, might you be the fabled Thrueetch?” through gritted teeth.

The king looked surprised but pleased. “I am.”

“I have heard of you on the surface world,” John said slowly. “I was not aware that we were to be offered as gifts to such an imposing and terrifying king of pestilence and war such as yourself.”

The king snorted and slapped his belly. “Then it shall be a great honor that I willl feast-eat upon you later then.”

“With all due respect, great one,” John said slowly, “I would prefer to not meet my end so soon. Is it true what they say about you being the greatest combatant in the entire under-empire?”

The king laughed and flexed, and John could tell beneath that fat he was indeed quite strong. “I am, yes.”

“Then, my grand king, might I offer a bit of a wager.” He gestured over to Mavis with what little he could move his hands. “My lady friend here is a great fighter, the best on the surface world. I would like to wager my freedom on a duel with her.”

The king looked over to Mavis, his whiskers twitching as he thought it over. Mavis didn’t exactly look that imposing, and he yearned for the days when he heard the crowds shout his name in the arena. He turned back to John. “I accept, but if I kill-win, then in exchange you will lead me, yes, me and my rats to surface world so we may lay waste.”

‘So. The King has aspirations for destroying the surface world.’ John then recalled what Talia told him at the start of the day, about how the rats nearly caused the destruction of hundreds of worlds due to their corrupting influence. He looked over to Mavis, considering for a moment calling the deal off and finding some other way. However, he then remembered the story she told of her forging, and just how many rat corpses surrounded her in her chamber when they found her. He smiled, no worry left in his heart that she would fail to kill the king.