Grey Seer Skitterclaw leapt across the battlements into the heart of the enemy lines, warp lightning crackling around his fingers. He toasted a regiment of the puny man-things with a nonchalant wave of his left hand, whilst delivering a spinning elbow to the neck of the so-called Wizard he had moved in to dispatch. The fool fell to his knees, clutching at his throat, unable to voice any words of power.

Skitterclaw sneered at the weakling, who was clearly trembling in the face of such a supreme being, whilst drawing in another morsel of warp-fueled energy. As the man-things little whelps poured in around the Seer to help the stricken caster, Skitterclaw uttered a few short words of the Clan Pestilens Plague Priests. The resulting pox moved across the battlefield like a wave, leaving bubbling, twitching corpses in it’s dread wake.

The Seer looked about him. The few survivors remaining looked at him in awe, falling to their knees in final submission. He laughed as slavers dragged the pathetic things away, surveying his handywork. More enemies were nearby, clearly afraid by what they had just witnessed. Skitterclaw span on his heel, and ran toward them, squeeking excitedly about the world of pain he was about to bring down on the stupid man-things…

Grey Seer Skitterclaw lay asleep on his bed of straw, squeeking excitedly, legs and arms twitching frantically. A messenger burst into the burrow and fell to his knees.

“My Lord, my Lord! Wake up master!”

Skitterclaw awoke with a start and jumped to his feet.

“Feel my wrath puny man-things!”, he shouted out with his hand outstretched toward the kneeling rat-man.

The Seer’s eyes darted around the burrow and he soon realised where he was. Seeing the messenger before him quaking where he knelt, he could smell that he had squirted the musk of fear. 

Skitterclaw lowered his hand, agitated that he had acted foolishly.

“What is it, can’t you say that I’m busy?! Speak! Quick-quick!”, he blurted out.

“Yes-yes, oh masterful one”, the messenger said, face down to the ground. Skitterclaw could tell that he was grinning by the sound of his voice. “There is word from above ground my most potent of potentates. Armies of the pointy ears and man-things have been seen marching toward the great sand-desert. Scouts say that other forces have been seen coming down from the north as well. What should we do Lord?”

Skitterclaw sneered, there must be something of great value for so many forces to come together, he thought.

“We will show these fools the power of the Horned Rat, of course!”, he exclaimed proudly.

“Yes-yes my Lord”, said the messenger as he got up to leave.

“Where do you think you are going?”, Skitterclaw said in a low voice.

“Why, to take your orders to the commanders of your armies oh powerful one”, the messenger said nervously.

“Then go, fool!”, Skitterclaw commanded.

“Yes my Lord, quickly I go!” 

The messenger spun around and began to scurry out of the burrow. As he did so, Skitterclaw sent a small bolt of warp-lightning into the tail of the poor messenger. The messenger squeek-screamed and leapt into the air as he ran away.

“Smirk at me again, whelp, and you’ll lose that tail!”, Skitterclaw called after the rat-man.

“Yes-yes master, I would never master!”, the messenger called down the tunnel in reply.

Skitterclaw turned back toward his bed thoughtfully, musing on how much warpstone he could get out of this venture.

“i’m going to need slaves this time”, he said quietly. “Lots of them…”

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