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Clan Skulk

Hey all!
Thenoobbomb here, and well, as you may guess, this topic is about my Skaven Clan, Clan Skulk.
It'll be containing all the fiction about their war in the far north,
and will include battle reportsin that section of the forums too.
If you got any ideas, including characters, please tell me, either by pm or by
posting in this topic.
Also, thanks to Rivet and the Vampires of Hunger Wood, since they gave me the inspiration for this.
So, on to the fluff/fiction
____________________________________


Intro

Like any warlord clan, Clan Skulk is divided into several commanders. Most of them are chieftains and clawleaders, and there are 3 warlords.
Two of these warlords follow orders from the supreme warlord of clan Skulk, Lord Gristleclaw.
Lord Gristleclaw is an imposing Skaven that fights with multiple blades. His body is swollen with disease, and he smellsabsolutely horrible too (I'm going to buy warlord spinetail as model for him). His armor is made of pure warpstone,
hence his disease-struk body. Any who will get to dangerous to him will find their end very soon, be it an 'accident'
or killed in battle. Gristleclaw is complotting against one of his chieftains that has risen in power rather fast,
Skrish Gnawteeth. He nearly had an accident/assasin prepared to do the job, but then came Gristleclaw's Gutter Runners.
An army of heavily armored, barbaric man-things were approaching, and they knew of Clan Skulk's stronghold.
Their outriders were mainly cavalry and led by an imposing warrior that rode on a daemonic steed, and was rumored to
be chosen by the god of war himself. They were approaching quick-quick, and needed to be taken care of.
Gristleclaw was not happy with the news. This was not the kind of war he wanted. But then, inspiration struck him.
He wanted to know how strong the outriders were, and he had an idea to test that. He would send Skrish to them with
a small host, and see what would happen. If the rumors about this leader of them, Skrish would surely die. If not,
the stronghold could prepare for more defences.
Both were good outcomes to Gristleclaw.

That night, Chieftain Skrish Gnawteeth left the Clan's Stronghold accompanied by two of his selected clawpacks of clanrats,
a master moulder and two of his rat ogres, a Clan Pestilens contingent and a few weapon teams.
As the Chaos outriders rode in a pass, they found a small host of Skaven awaiting them. They unsheated their weapons,
ready for war.
On the other side of the mountain pass, Skrish grinned. The man-things were with less then expected. They had losses.
He too grabbed his weapons, and sounded the advance.
___
Battle report: http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/0/467251.page#4607643
___

That night, Chieftain Gnawteeth marched back into the stronghold. Warlock Engineer Trikk had nicely blown up that mountain pass, but still Lord Gristleclaw was worried. How did Skrish manage to get that many of the Skaven out alive? No, there was a deeper, darker thing about it. Those barbaric man-things would not be slaughtered to the last man so easy. No, Skrish must had made a treaty or so with them. He was determined to find out. He would start unveiling the truth about Gnawteeth, starting with his bodyguard, Blackfur's Brigade. He grabbed his dagger. Time to ask some questions.

Blackfur was just counting the warptokens he could get in exchange for his loot, for the Warlock Engineer was interested in the man-things steel clothes. The sword he would keep himself, though. That was more practical. And worth more. All of the sudden, an imposing figure moved in front of him. Lord Gristleclaw.
That night, Blackfur's Brigade was renamed to Sleekfur's horde, and there was much rejoice and plotting. Especially plotting,

Warlord Squeel Warptaker walked inside the same room as Lord Gristleclaw. Standing before the lord of Clan Skulk, Squeel squirted the musk of fear several times. He had bad things, and you never knew what would happen if you told bad news. Squeel kneeled and told the knews. As Lord Gristleclaw ordered him to get out of the room, Squeel ran out of it as fast as he could. Squeel liked his life more then enough to live.
Lord Gristleclaw raged. The man-things had taken over an almost hidden outpost near the edge of the mountains. No, they hadn't discovered it by accident. That was impossible. Even though Blackfur hadn't told anything, Gristleclaw was sure. Skrish must have made a pact with them. How else would they have found that? No, Gnawteeth had betrayed them. Gristleclaw would unveil the truth and destroy Gnawteeth. That was sure.

Trikk was walking a bit around and all that. He had obtained a piece of chaos armor of the (recently diceased) Blackfur, so he started tinkering on it. Bit of warpstone here, some blue paint there. Ah. SPlendid. He looked at the armor in front of him. It looked great. Then he realised his big mistake. The thing was too big. Ah well. He started melting some pieces away. As the thing got heated, some black clouds appeared above. 'Oh' he said, wondering what it was. He continued. The armor wouldn't melt. He started using different tools, and grabbed his tools. Still wouldn't melt. He grabbed a warpfire thrower. The armor melted. As the whole thing melted, Trikk looked what came out. Ordinary steel. Blackfur had cheated him! That was not worth the warptokens! True, he got it for free, but still. Well, he thought, time to inform the Council about what's happening inside the Clan. He grabbed the Farsqueeker in his laboratories. They would surely be interested in the current events. Trikk was atleast interested in their warptokens.


Skrish Gnawteeth had betrayed him, and Lord Gristleclaw was not pleased. He would need to find a way to dispose the Chieftain, and he already had an idea. More man-things were approaching, and he would send Skrish to them together with only one group of disposable clanrats. Surely he would die. It had to be like that. But there was a chance he would survive. Gristleclaw wanted to know how. He would send Throatslicer’s Runners along with him, but without him knowing. The Gutter Runners would report what happened. Maybe Skrish was just a good fighter with a lot of luck. That might be possible too. Either way, Gnawteeth had to die.

The Gutter Runners of Throatslicer were tracking Gnawteeth’s ‘army’. The battle would once again be fought in a mountain pass, so they climbed to the top of the mountains, and looked what would happen. Gnawteeth and his horde approached the half-naked man-things that were standing in front of them. He called for their leader Throatslicer wondered what the Chieftain wanted. As the barbaric leader of the man-things approached Gnawteeth, Throatslicer saw that the chieftain held a weapon behind his back. As the man-thing stood in front of him, he stabbed the leader once, twice, thrice. The leader fell lifeless on the ground. Maybe he had done so the last battle? The now endangered barbarians ran forward towards him, and the clanrats Skrish took with him charged, presenting a warpfire thrower, incinerating the bearded man-things. With more loot then before, SKrish marched back to the stronghold, Throatslicer following him. Accidents had to be arranged.

Skrish and his clanrats did not return home, for rocks had fallen unto them, and they had bad luck. That would be the news, Throatslicer thought. Ofcourse that wasn’t the truth. He and his Gutter Runners had brought down a part of the mountain on the poor, unsuspecting Skaven below. It was time to report to Lord Gristleclaw. They had to take a longer route, since they had collapsed the mountain on the way they came from. They would need to be fast, for more enemies were on the move. ‘Quick-quick!’ he ordered the assassin-adepts, and they started the long way to the stronghold.

Trikk grinned. He had reported the Council about the current events by Farsqueeker, and yes, he had been rewarded. However, they had informed him news he didn’t like as much. They had sended a Grey Seer. Those would always take command, and Trikk had it very good under Lord Gristleclaw. He had supported the leader of Clan Skulk for years, in exchange for privileges, his own forge In the Clan Stronghold and many warptokens. But the coming of a Grey Seer… That could change it completely. Hiring an assassin to kill the Rat Mage was no option, for clan Eshin are very loyal to the Council of Dreaded Thirteen. He had to dispose him differently. Maybe Throatslicer and his Runners. Those were more part of Clan Skulk then Clan Eshin. Trikk got a bit more cheerfull. He would report to Lord Gristleclaw that he had heard that a Grey Seer had been send to take command of the Clan, and usurp his power. That would mean the Seer would be dead. But the Grey Seer also had his reward. Well, he would get a part of that anyways. He could be sure of that. He, after all, gave him the news. Yes, he would come out of this better then before. He moved back to the huge warpstone generated engine that the Master Moulder, Greel, had ordered. He wondered what the Creature-Creator wanted with it. Trikk started remembering things. Greel had lately also returned with a wyrm. Was the Master Moulder creating a giant monster? If so, he would ask more for the engine. Yes. He would do that. After all, it was hard work…

Throatslicer and his Gutter Runners ran through the tunnels of the Under-Empire, speeding towards the Grey Seer. They would dispose of him, for he posed a big threat to the Clan Skulk, and, more importantly, their salary. They had poisoned their weapons, so any wound would be a fatal one. As they ran around a corner, a long, imposing horned rat stood before them. He had a long, flowing blue-grey robe, and wore an amulet with the Sigil of the Seer Order. He had white fur, and looked at them suspiciously. Before he could say anything, Throatslicer jumped on him, stabbing the self titled ‘Messenger of the Horned Rat’. As the Seer collapsed lifeless, Throatslicer grinned. The seer had taken bodyguards with him. Not a lot, but they were not allowed to escape. Luckily, the runners had seen them too, and they formed a wall behind and in front of the bodyguard. The slaughter was ended quick, and Throatslicer looked greedily towards the huge sack full of warptokens in front of him. No one was looking. ‘Well,’ he said to himself, ‘nobody will miss a few claws of those.’

This looks like a very good start! Thank you for the credit of inspiration! You should check out the Vampires of Hunger Wood thread here in dakka fiction as it has grown into a pretty solid story so far. (I am working on another addition to it to bridge the gap between 500 point and 1000 point escalation games)

I like this, it shows great promise

Thanks to both of ya I regulary check the Vampires of Hunger Wood, just dont comment on it

Well maybe you should!

Well, that was a rather lucky battle for me

Finally managed to come up with banner sigil for clan! Huzzah! Praised be the Horned Rat!

I even updated!

Very nice update, I am enjoying the paranoia of the Warlord.

Rivet wrote:Very nice update, I am enjoying the paranoia of the Warlord.

Youre a Skaven or not
Prob. Gonna update moar today.

Updated

I love how you really gave character and personality to your Lord. it's good to see that you use our battle so well in your story (i didn't lose without a reason, Yeah!!)

supremeoverlordVECT wrote:I love how you really gave character and personality to your Lord. it's good to see that you use our battle so well in your story (i didn't lose without a reason, Yeah!!)

Heck no, you didn't lose without reason

so... i lost again... when will the good reason be placed online?

Dunno, maybe not

ah well.... we'll see what happens

Chapter 2: Redemption
a lone Skaven lay underneath the rocks. His sight fade in and out. He started pushing away the boulders on top of him. A claw came in the open. A next claw. The claws started pushing the rocks aside. His rat-like face came from underneath them, like a rat or mouse getting out of his hole. He climbed out, getting the dust of his battered armor and clothing, revealing the blue, and the sigil of clan Skulk. He looked behind him. The entire valley had collapsed. His clanrats were less lucky. Or blessed by the Horned Rat. He did not care. However, an entire valley collapsing was not a normal thing. How could that have happened? It must have been a traitor from within. He had always been loyal to Lord Gristleclaw, and he surely knew that. Who could have blown up the valley? It required a lot of force to do that. It had to be sorcery, or a device of Clan Skyre's warlock engineer. It could have been one of the man-things, but a Skaven was more fitting to do those things. A warlock Engineer. Trikk? Yes, ofcourse. Chieftain Skrish Gnawteeth would return to the Clan Skulk stronghold, and in full glory, destroying the traitor, and gorging on his flesh.

Sorcerer Lord Korvus the Feeble stood on top of the massive stone outcrop. Next to him stood his less powerfull kin. He listened to the what happened below. Thousands of armored feet and horses marched there, screaming the names of their patron god Khorne. He had convinced them that the Skaven would put up a good fight, and this time, he was not lying to them. The Skaven were with many, many more then him, and they were defending. However, deep inside their lair was an artefact that had his nterest. The ratmen probably didnt even know of it's existence. Well, he did. He wanted it. And now he had a Khornate army awaiting his command, next to his own, slightly less armored, tribesmen. The Skaven would have to be really impressive to stop him now, he thought to himself. He was powerful. He was a nearly unstopable weapon from his deity. It was time to summon the Daemons, and then, the assault could begin.

I say well done!

I say thanks! ;D

Skrish walked back towards the stronghold. It was a long walk. He was thinking about what to do. He could not use his own name back in the lair. Everyone thought him dead. He would need to use a new name. Preferably of someone dead. Or that never existed. He would think of a name.
All of the sudden, he heard armored feat marching near him. He quickly jumped behind a rock, and watched. They wore red armor, and had multiple weapons with them. They seemed good fighters. they were with -at a quick count- 20. He was wise to duck away.
He had not seen their like before in this area. They must have been arrived recently. He would need to inform the clan, and fast too.

Throatslicer watched the hordes of man-things below him. the sound of their marching had been heard underground. This were a lot of them. it was a good think Lord Gristleclaw had began mobilising the forces. This army was strong, perhaps too strong. Maybe they were with more then them. The thought only nearly made him squirt the musk of fear. It was time to inform the Clan's leaders of this.. danger. He climbed down the mountain, were his Death Runners were waiting for him, who had just thrown down a badly wounded Skaven. It wore blue armor, and was taller then a normal clanrat. He recognised the face, but could not yet place it. Deciding to let take him with them and then decide what to do with him, they went back to the massive mountain they used as their stronghold. The Death Runners went as fast as they could, Skrish following them, hoping to not be recognised..

I think it's really good, and I'll be following this one, but I wish you would write bigger peaces at a time, like in the first post.

Thanks!
The first post was edited a lot of times, so well..
Aye, I'll try to write bigger stuff.

Hmm, bit stuck at how to go further.
Dangit.

Throatslicer and his Deathrunners walked through the hordes of vermin that were assambling, pushing away any that stood in their path. They were heading towards Lord Gristleclaw, informing him of the Chaos Hordes that were marching on them. ANd they had the prisoner, who might be interesting.
Skrish looked at the Deathrunners that were supposed to guard him. They weren't paying attention. Good. Very good indeed. Skrish rolled and ran, disappearing into the crowd long before the Deathrunners even noticed he was gone. He dragged a clanrat towards him, taking on it's armor. He now was unrecognisable to most. It was time to have words with Trikk...

The cold, harsh wind blew in the face of Khornate Chaos Lord Semenov the Blooded. Korvus the Feeble had summoned him here, and told him this was the place to gain glory, and slaughter many. The Skaven were with many and would indeed bring many skulls, and Lord Cyenwulf was planning his assault on Hell Pit, so the idea seemed dependable. He would have a lot of glory by killing, but not by slaughtering SKaven. He and the Sorcerer Lord had a rather tumultuos past, and he had not forgotten. Neither had Korvus. The Feeble was powerfull, and would be a truly glorious kill. He had to wait though, the sorcerer had himself surrounded with allies. He would turn on them later. Just a bit of patience was needed. He climbed on tp of his Chaos Steed, and rode forth to meet up with the Feeble, hoping everything would go just as planned...