(authors note this story was inspired by a debate i saw online and decided to put my own spin on things with this story so feel free to comment you're idea for the debate if you want two know whcih debate you can find it here art/Skaven-vs-Free-Peoples-of-Middle-Earth-458487588 but after i read the gotrek and felix books I think that the vermintide is finnaly ready to rise up and take these man things and elf things and finally show them why skaven are best yes yes!)

Kill the elf things you fool-fools quick-fast do it now shrieked the chieften as the high elves methodically pushed forward through his crowd of wariors. The chieften once more roared craking his whip to emphasise the point and levering his cleaver at any that looked like running. The clanrats heartened by the arrival of more of their fellow skaven and encourged by the violent threats of their leader once more poured through the tunnel to meet their foe. The high elves turned to meet this foe disciplined feet marching in perfect unison to meet the foe the shining armour of the elves contrasting the crude stone work and freshly dug soil that was the signiture of skaven tunnels, they lowered the spears as one, planting the pointed edge of the shield into the freshly dug earth to give support. The clan rats poured towards them, their rusted blades glinting along the edges were they had been recently sharpened and flashes of claw and teeth and the red eyes that gazed with a furious hunger, and hangig above it all the chittering as the skaven screeched warcrys and praises to their foul god. The wave of fur slammed into the elvish lines the spears striking like snakes with perfect precision to peirce the throats of the skaven and punch through the crude armours the skaven clad themselves in. However the numbers of the horde were begining to tell, one of the elves slipped in the muck and was set upon by the ravenous horde, spotting a hole in the line the skaven poured through the gap attacking and outflanking the elves. Three more were dragged down their armour being torn of by many furry hands before blades could rip them apart. The elves still held however closing ranks to attempt to fill in the gaps.

The elves hated this battle, their was no skill here, all that mattered was to strike and strike and occasionaly parry an incoming blade. The chieften laughed maybe he wouldn't have to use the plan anyways, then grumbled and sighed as he was so looking forward to using that plan. Then the sound of marching feet could be heard from behind the elvish lines 10 swordmasters advanced and just behind them stood the elf thing that the cheiften was waiting for. The elf was clad in white robes with a golden circlet upon his brow and his eyes crackled with divine power. Behind him stood five high elf archers which poured silver tipped arrows into the skaven ranks. The lore master raised his hand and a bolt of fire flew from it exploding amongst the skaven ranks setting fire to fur causing panic and fear amongst the clan rats. The sword masters with swift and elegeant swings clove skaven bodies apart with the ease of a sycthe through grain.

The chieften smilled a grim smile, his plan was going to come to fruition. With a barley suppresd cackle he ordred the slaves to be sent into the tunnel. With cracks of whips many skaven poured down even less well equipped than the clan rats, diseased and coated with scars. The chieften fled the tunnel out into the sunlight which hurt his eyes. He was standing out side the high walls of the elveish bastion, the last citadel of the elves in this island fort. He knew that the rest of the elves were elsewhere defending the great holes that the clan skrye warmachines had punched in them. However that was not his main objective. The vast hordes of clan rats that attacked the walls were merely a diversion. He had sappers dig a tunnel directly into the main hall of the elvish bastion using the warp grinders he had provided them. They had entered the main hall where he knew their most important artifacts were held and their leader the lore master was stationed. He had succeded in luring the elves into his tunnel and know his plan would succed. He approached the Warplock engineer. The chieften remeberd the warlocks name. Quirk they are in the tunnel the plan is ready yes-yes? The enginner smilled at the chieften, yes-yes it is, the warplock enginner turned to the two enginners standing next to the pump and nodded his head at the robbed fiqure of the plauge priest thats stood waiting. Now-now wheezed the plauge priest as his acolytes charged into the tunnel carrying with them a tube connected to a pumping device. The plauge priest looked in his robe and pulled out a tube filled with some strange brownish liquid which he then pushed into a socket in the machine. The gears and pistons on the machine pounded and creaked and then a rattling sound could be herd as something traveled down the pipe which the acolytes had brought into the tunnel a greenish fog could then be seen drifting out of the tunnel mouth and the wheezing coughs of hundreds of elven and skaven throats came out. Until all was silent. Stop-stop gas yes-yes said quirk the enginner signalling to the other engineers. One of the enginners pulled a leve rand the rattling stoped and after a couple minutes the fog disappated. The chieften and his stormvermin enetered the tunnel bringing the plauge priest and engineer with him to join in the celebration of glory (realy it was to make sure the other parties didn't pull the same trick on him as he did to his foes but they didn't need to know that.) they walked over the hundreds of clan rat corpses and the many more skaven slave ones, how ever when they finally reached where the elves were they smiled. Cackling to themselves three skaven laughed and smiled at their succes the shining armour of the elves had rusted from the harsh chemicals of the gas but that did not stop the storm vermin to subltley snatch their gear for them selves. Some of the elves were still alive blood filling their mouth begging for death to take them. The skaven did not obligh leaving them for the plauge in the gas to take them. However to the chieftens suprise the leader could not be found. He moved forward and found the lore master cralling towards some starnge pedastel. The cheiften laughed and grabbed him by the leg dragging the lore master away. you...won't …no...no.. the lore master muttered to himself. The chieften ordered his storm vermin two guard the doors and kill anyone hideing. The guards were taken by suprise and the doors were locked from the inside. The chieften went to the highest tower in the citadel and laughed as he saw that the walls were taken, the elves attempted to retreat into the final citadel but rather than finding saftey the fleeing elves found themselves facing against the elite halberds of the stormvermin, trapped between the skaven halberds and the rampaging rat ogres the remaning elves were massacred. Even in his victory the chieften was plotting thinking how much power he was getting from this. He then came to the conclusion that the clan was in need of a new warlord. The chittering of the skaven could be herd far and wide and the lore masters last thoughts were of fear, pain, and Despair…..