So apparently I hit the character limit on FA. Woo I guess only the second time I've ever done that so yay. But here is the last two parts from the previous story.
Part 1;
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53920810/
A helpful list of names that have been mentioned a few who are yet to show up properly;
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/52981118/
Featuring from other lovely fans of Warhammer; (Not all show up in every entry, but just for records sake)
ChaosEye - Kritch Deeptaker, Grey Seer.
Kurbon - Mormel, Grey Seer.
Corrsk - Tweek Firecrest and Skur/Sweek, Engineer and his assistants.
https://twitter.com/VileHound_ - Asphodel, Extraplanar goodboi.
Berold
A farm was nothing special really. A place of work and food that was often the target of those who cared only about themselves. But after three days of slow movement to try to make it north and east enough to find a mountain pass it was salvation. No Wood Elf assholes. No Empire patrols anymore. Just good working folk breaking their backs for the Lords. Something which he used to do before his current job. Which sure was going better wasn't it huh? Taking a breath to push that from his mind Berold focused on the fence in front of him. It was very well made. Clearly the peasants working the field here took their job very seriously. But surely they could use an extra hand? Anything to get him real food rather than the mostly ripe apples that had barely kept him going through the Axe Bite Pass. But flat ground. Finally flat. Nice and flat and fertile. Goodness it was lovely.
"You know," a voice on the other side of the fence spoke up. "I would prefer you wipe that with a cloth rather than your hands Imperial." Berold looking up to see a fit younger man with a scythe over his shoulder watching him. A Bretonnia subject. One who wouldn't have been told about his bounty. Perfect.
"Apologies friend. Just lovely to find signs of proper civilization. Had a rough crossing of Axe Bite." The other man immediately shifting from a smile to concern as he gestured to the gate on the fence.
"Oh heavens! Lost your gear too?" Berold bowing his head and moving his hands together toward the man in thanks.
"Indeed. I was lucky enough to escape," skimming through his knowledge of the pass as he had been lucky and seen nothing. "Troll that my group happened upon but I had to drop my stuff and run." Looking back at the tall mountains and its mentioned pass as he stepped into the field. "I hope the others made it out." The Bretonnian nodding as started to lead Berold through the field.
"Lady willing they did. Myself and the others will keep an eye out and if we see any haggard travelers we will let them know you made it Mr?"
"Wagner." Immediately after he said that Berold wished he didn't. But the smell of fresh real bread had made him have a lapse of concentration. But nothing for it now. That and the head impacts he took back in Kreutzhofen likely did not help much. But there the bread was. Cooling on the farm houses window sil. And judging from the movement and noise in there more was being made.
"Alright Mr. Wagner. We will be happy to share food with you but it would please the Lady if you helped us with some work. Are you able to?" Best to get on their good side as Berold nodded.
"I believe I can yes. And with your hospitality it would be terrible for me not to at least try. What should I start on." The other man humming as he turned around a few times before nodding at a corn field that was behind the house. Before shifting around the scythe before pulling out a husking glove.
"Ever used one of these before?" Well...he had to puncture someone's throat before removing their nose. Surely using it for its intended purpose would be easier than that.
"A few times though not in about a year. Could I have a quick refresher my good man?" The Bretonnian nodding as he stuck the base of the scythe in the ground before heading off with Berold.
"Simonnet Mr. Wagner. And of course. Once you get started I'll bring you some fresh food. And after some corn we could do with some hay forked. You ok with that too?"
"For food? Absolutely!" Both men having a little laugh as the dusk started to creep on.
And once it was properly dark Berold was in the hay shed. Fed and feeling great as he looked up at the candles that were giving him light. He would be done soon and then get some sleep. Before leaving early in the morning. Bringing back the pitchfork as he aimed at the break between two of the larger bits. Better to not take the chance that his face be handed to anyone on a piece of paper. Clunk! Blinking at that and the ringing through the pitchforks wooden handle Berold would humm as he jiggled the tines before he could pull up cleanly and hefted the hay to the side. Something metal was there for sure with how it sparkled in the candle light. Resting the pitchfork against the wall Berold would take one of the candels and carefully hold it near the item. A metal triangle? With...edges that over ran the corners.
"...Well now Sigmar you are just having a laugh ain'tcha?" Berold would groan to himself before the door behind him was opened and more light flooded in. Simonnet smirking as he stood in the door way with two other figures in fancy hoods and cloaks.
"He is not poor traveler. For you have wandered into the rats nest as it were." Spreading out his right arm to reveal a yellow dagger pin on his shoulder. "For we are,"
"The Yellow Fang Cult yeah I gathered that." Berold hissing as he sat back against the hay and crossed one leg over the other. "Do you have a super fancy speech you have planned that I just ruined? Because I don't care." Simon at least was clearly not expected Berold to figure that out so fast. Or not be terrified. He seemed pretty unsure how to act as his smirk was gone before one of the other figures grunted something about 'the plan'. Which made Simonnet get his smirk back as he pulled out a very proper looking slightly curved chipped blade and pointed it at the nonplussed Berold.
"We can skip the speech and just get right to the sacrifice!"
"Fantastic." Damn rats ruining everything.
Gilm
And full night was also in full force back at the Warren. The shouting and banging of nails and hammers from Poxxa and Jesop still outside in the marsh. Sneke currently with his Runners as he was running them through the training course they had in their home. With a few man-thing targets on the way for whacking with the training blades or throwing a star at. He could configure this better once he met with Word tomorrow. And would call a halt soon. The clan needed to be rested to train better. Sleep may be hard to come by out in the field. But starting off right was important.
But the entire thing didn't sit well with him. Haskir was insane. But there was no way this entire plan was as it seemed. Sneke tapping his fingers on his crossed elbows as he watched the good work of his rats. Still worried about his two officers but there was nothing he could do for them. What he could do was prepare the rats he still had. But most of them would be gone. Same with Gilm. Koroc and Gritus would lose a chunk of their slaves and boat operators but compared to Gilm and himself he suspected they would still be fine. Fine for what? Fine if someone showed up to demand things of them. Koroc had Skuttle looking after them so they were fine but the others did not. Would a move be made? Sneke shaking his head as he thought what a stupid question that was. If other clans knew they would make the move. Hells of Gilm was the only one who was going to be so depleted from this mission he would make a move on them. But it wasn't just Gilm. It was Skeek and Gilm. He just hoped Word saw it too. They may be facing losing everything when this raid started. They would need to work together to keep their positions and clans.
"Right-right, that's enough all. Gather around-close." Sneke and Word would call into their training rooms. Sneke going to each of his rats to point out things they could improve on as he didn't know about the mission from Oluk or Haskir from Word yet. The dread was starting to creep into Sneke too. Meanwhile Word slid over a platform and hopped up onto it so he could more easily be heard. Thankfully his face was now free of the poultices that Veskatt had been working on all day and he felt mostly alright. Physically if not mentally at least.
"You all know about the mission-task Warlord Longtooth has for you soon-soon." Word began. Voch breathing heavily and barely able to hold onto the training blade as he stood next to Kekkan. "But not many of you know about Haskir himself. My former Master-Boss before I made Gilm." The Gilm who were doing record keeping, including Enket, filing into the room to hear this as well. "We look out for each other here. Success of the group-clan rather than just me-me. The future we focus on. To make the current flow-run smooth." The clanrats and slaves nodding as Word flicked back his hood to show off his Gilm hair. "Haskir will not be like this. If you are in his way-path he will strike-kill you. If you are trapped-alone. He will leave-abandon you." Some shuffling of footpaws as Word continued. "Some of the Mange-rats may be more willing to assist-help you. But do not-not rely on it. Look at those Gilm-rats next to you." Heads turning to look at their fellow orange clad rats. "They are your brother-clan. Out there you will have each other. Rely on that. Depending on how the talk-chitter goes with Skeek," many grumbles and hisses before Word thumped his warhammer on the platform for quiet. "Chitter with Skeek goes they may be willing. But do not-not rely on it. Even if Sneke says he will help. You have-trust each other. And with each other you can be successful-rich and return." A few little woos and rattling of weapons as Word raised his voice. "We are Gilm-clan! What do we do-best?"
"Look-look! Remember! Record!" For the future selling and connections it would bring. Word nodding in approval as he hopped off the platform.
"Good-good. Rest-sleep now. Once I know the proper mission-task from Oluk I will inform you all." Many aye ayes and yes Chiefs as Word left the room with Veskatt following after him in case he was needed. Enket heading back to the records room to finish off his report - he had decided to leave out what Mormel had done to him - if the Seer wanted anyone to know he would tell them. Meanwhile Voch glanced over at Kekkan before he hurked! and flailed his arms. Kekk just smiling as he pulled Voch against his chest with one of his arms snugly around his neck.
"Shhhh-shh Voch. You did lots of good training-work today. Now you sleep!" The smiling blackfur face above his own the last thing Voch saw before he flopped limp. Carefully picked up with an arm under his knees and around his shoulders as Kekkan carried him off toward a sleeping hole. He himself would soon join him after he peaked into what had happened with Enkets mission. Curiosity was a good quality after all! And that manacle he saw yesterday. That needed another look.
Part 1;
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/53920810/
A helpful list of names that have been mentioned a few who are yet to show up properly;
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/52981118/
Featuring from other lovely fans of Warhammer; (Not all show up in every entry, but just for records sake)
ChaosEye - Kritch Deeptaker, Grey Seer.
Kurbon - Mormel, Grey Seer.
Corrsk - Tweek Firecrest and Skur/Sweek, Engineer and his assistants.https://twitter.com/VileHound_ - Asphodel, Extraplanar goodboi.
Berold
A farm was nothing special really. A place of work and food that was often the target of those who cared only about themselves. But after three days of slow movement to try to make it north and east enough to find a mountain pass it was salvation. No Wood Elf assholes. No Empire patrols anymore. Just good working folk breaking their backs for the Lords. Something which he used to do before his current job. Which sure was going better wasn't it huh? Taking a breath to push that from his mind Berold focused on the fence in front of him. It was very well made. Clearly the peasants working the field here took their job very seriously. But surely they could use an extra hand? Anything to get him real food rather than the mostly ripe apples that had barely kept him going through the Axe Bite Pass. But flat ground. Finally flat. Nice and flat and fertile. Goodness it was lovely.
"You know," a voice on the other side of the fence spoke up. "I would prefer you wipe that with a cloth rather than your hands Imperial." Berold looking up to see a fit younger man with a scythe over his shoulder watching him. A Bretonnia subject. One who wouldn't have been told about his bounty. Perfect.
"Apologies friend. Just lovely to find signs of proper civilization. Had a rough crossing of Axe Bite." The other man immediately shifting from a smile to concern as he gestured to the gate on the fence.
"Oh heavens! Lost your gear too?" Berold bowing his head and moving his hands together toward the man in thanks.
"Indeed. I was lucky enough to escape," skimming through his knowledge of the pass as he had been lucky and seen nothing. "Troll that my group happened upon but I had to drop my stuff and run." Looking back at the tall mountains and its mentioned pass as he stepped into the field. "I hope the others made it out." The Bretonnian nodding as started to lead Berold through the field.
"Lady willing they did. Myself and the others will keep an eye out and if we see any haggard travelers we will let them know you made it Mr?"
"Wagner." Immediately after he said that Berold wished he didn't. But the smell of fresh real bread had made him have a lapse of concentration. But nothing for it now. That and the head impacts he took back in Kreutzhofen likely did not help much. But there the bread was. Cooling on the farm houses window sil. And judging from the movement and noise in there more was being made.
"Alright Mr. Wagner. We will be happy to share food with you but it would please the Lady if you helped us with some work. Are you able to?" Best to get on their good side as Berold nodded.
"I believe I can yes. And with your hospitality it would be terrible for me not to at least try. What should I start on." The other man humming as he turned around a few times before nodding at a corn field that was behind the house. Before shifting around the scythe before pulling out a husking glove.
"Ever used one of these before?" Well...he had to puncture someone's throat before removing their nose. Surely using it for its intended purpose would be easier than that.
"A few times though not in about a year. Could I have a quick refresher my good man?" The Bretonnian nodding as he stuck the base of the scythe in the ground before heading off with Berold.
"Simonnet Mr. Wagner. And of course. Once you get started I'll bring you some fresh food. And after some corn we could do with some hay forked. You ok with that too?"
"For food? Absolutely!" Both men having a little laugh as the dusk started to creep on.
And once it was properly dark Berold was in the hay shed. Fed and feeling great as he looked up at the candles that were giving him light. He would be done soon and then get some sleep. Before leaving early in the morning. Bringing back the pitchfork as he aimed at the break between two of the larger bits. Better to not take the chance that his face be handed to anyone on a piece of paper. Clunk! Blinking at that and the ringing through the pitchforks wooden handle Berold would humm as he jiggled the tines before he could pull up cleanly and hefted the hay to the side. Something metal was there for sure with how it sparkled in the candle light. Resting the pitchfork against the wall Berold would take one of the candels and carefully hold it near the item. A metal triangle? With...edges that over ran the corners.
"...Well now Sigmar you are just having a laugh ain'tcha?" Berold would groan to himself before the door behind him was opened and more light flooded in. Simonnet smirking as he stood in the door way with two other figures in fancy hoods and cloaks.
"He is not poor traveler. For you have wandered into the rats nest as it were." Spreading out his right arm to reveal a yellow dagger pin on his shoulder. "For we are,"
"The Yellow Fang Cult yeah I gathered that." Berold hissing as he sat back against the hay and crossed one leg over the other. "Do you have a super fancy speech you have planned that I just ruined? Because I don't care." Simon at least was clearly not expected Berold to figure that out so fast. Or not be terrified. He seemed pretty unsure how to act as his smirk was gone before one of the other figures grunted something about 'the plan'. Which made Simonnet get his smirk back as he pulled out a very proper looking slightly curved chipped blade and pointed it at the nonplussed Berold.
"We can skip the speech and just get right to the sacrifice!"
"Fantastic." Damn rats ruining everything.
Gilm
And full night was also in full force back at the Warren. The shouting and banging of nails and hammers from Poxxa and Jesop still outside in the marsh. Sneke currently with his Runners as he was running them through the training course they had in their home. With a few man-thing targets on the way for whacking with the training blades or throwing a star at. He could configure this better once he met with Word tomorrow. And would call a halt soon. The clan needed to be rested to train better. Sleep may be hard to come by out in the field. But starting off right was important.
But the entire thing didn't sit well with him. Haskir was insane. But there was no way this entire plan was as it seemed. Sneke tapping his fingers on his crossed elbows as he watched the good work of his rats. Still worried about his two officers but there was nothing he could do for them. What he could do was prepare the rats he still had. But most of them would be gone. Same with Gilm. Koroc and Gritus would lose a chunk of their slaves and boat operators but compared to Gilm and himself he suspected they would still be fine. Fine for what? Fine if someone showed up to demand things of them. Koroc had Skuttle looking after them so they were fine but the others did not. Would a move be made? Sneke shaking his head as he thought what a stupid question that was. If other clans knew they would make the move. Hells of Gilm was the only one who was going to be so depleted from this mission he would make a move on them. But it wasn't just Gilm. It was Skeek and Gilm. He just hoped Word saw it too. They may be facing losing everything when this raid started. They would need to work together to keep their positions and clans.
"Right-right, that's enough all. Gather around-close." Sneke and Word would call into their training rooms. Sneke going to each of his rats to point out things they could improve on as he didn't know about the mission from Oluk or Haskir from Word yet. The dread was starting to creep into Sneke too. Meanwhile Word slid over a platform and hopped up onto it so he could more easily be heard. Thankfully his face was now free of the poultices that Veskatt had been working on all day and he felt mostly alright. Physically if not mentally at least.
"You all know about the mission-task Warlord Longtooth has for you soon-soon." Word began. Voch breathing heavily and barely able to hold onto the training blade as he stood next to Kekkan. "But not many of you know about Haskir himself. My former Master-Boss before I made Gilm." The Gilm who were doing record keeping, including Enket, filing into the room to hear this as well. "We look out for each other here. Success of the group-clan rather than just me-me. The future we focus on. To make the current flow-run smooth." The clanrats and slaves nodding as Word flicked back his hood to show off his Gilm hair. "Haskir will not be like this. If you are in his way-path he will strike-kill you. If you are trapped-alone. He will leave-abandon you." Some shuffling of footpaws as Word continued. "Some of the Mange-rats may be more willing to assist-help you. But do not-not rely on it. Look at those Gilm-rats next to you." Heads turning to look at their fellow orange clad rats. "They are your brother-clan. Out there you will have each other. Rely on that. Depending on how the talk-chitter goes with Skeek," many grumbles and hisses before Word thumped his warhammer on the platform for quiet. "Chitter with Skeek goes they may be willing. But do not-not rely on it. Even if Sneke says he will help. You have-trust each other. And with each other you can be successful-rich and return." A few little woos and rattling of weapons as Word raised his voice. "We are Gilm-clan! What do we do-best?"
"Look-look! Remember! Record!" For the future selling and connections it would bring. Word nodding in approval as he hopped off the platform.
"Good-good. Rest-sleep now. Once I know the proper mission-task from Oluk I will inform you all." Many aye ayes and yes Chiefs as Word left the room with Veskatt following after him in case he was needed. Enket heading back to the records room to finish off his report - he had decided to leave out what Mormel had done to him - if the Seer wanted anyone to know he would tell them. Meanwhile Voch glanced over at Kekkan before he hurked! and flailed his arms. Kekk just smiling as he pulled Voch against his chest with one of his arms snugly around his neck.
"Shhhh-shh Voch. You did lots of good training-work today. Now you sleep!" The smiling blackfur face above his own the last thing Voch saw before he flopped limp. Carefully picked up with an arm under his knees and around his shoulders as Kekkan carried him off toward a sleeping hole. He himself would soon join him after he peaked into what had happened with Enkets mission. Curiosity was a good quality after all! And that manacle he saw yesterday. That needed another look.
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