Deathcoils' Tail

Deathcoils slinked down the slimy rope and landed softly in the courtyard of the keep, sliding a small knife from his tight fitting garb. He trained his beady eyes on the guard that slouched past like an ape and with a quick movement of his hand let the shining blade fly towards his neck. It hit home driving deep into the slit of skin between his helmet and his tunic and silently he keeled over slumping towards the floor. Deathcoil reacted quickly, leaping forwards and catching the falling halberd in his tail so it did not clatter, drawing himself back into the shadows and pressing against the wall propping the stave up next to him. He looked back down the passage beside him and saw that no-one had seen him land and kill the guard. With immense strength, more than you could imagine from his wiry form he lifted the man and piled him in the shadows, peering down at the dead eyes of his prey, and wondering what on earth these things thought they were doing stealing from his master.

He looked up at the walls and the top of the rope he had slid down previous. Four more black figures swung down it athletically and landed softly on the cobbles, sliding fighting claws from their bound hands and looking around before joining Deathcoil in the shadows. The last to land, Greenpop, flipped a short staff from his back and summoned a small dark mist around them all, popping a few shards of green stone into his mouth before looking up at the towers above and with a poof of smoke and mist they as one disappeared into the blackness.

They landed uneasily on the roof of the tower, slipping slightly on the tiles. Deathcoil frowned and slapped Greenpop round the head. He didn't want to be this high; this was way past the windows they had seen before. He pointed to the two pitch black skaven standing next to him, teetering slightly on the edge of the roof and pointed to the ledge below them. The two kin, Manbane and Slackjaw, the adepts of this motley crew, gazed over the edge with hesitant looks before jumping into the night, twisting majestically in the air (as majestic as a skaven can look) and latched onto the ledge below…their metallic claws grating on the stone as they dug in. They waited.

Deathcoil then nodded to the smallest of his kin, a runty thin skaven suitably named Useless. The small skaven looked over the edge and contemplated the drop, looking nervously at Deathcoil, his lip sneering showing his yellow sharpened teeth. Deathcoil sighed and kicked him swiftly in the ass, sending the thin rat tumbling off the edge, and looked down after his falling body. He watched as Slackjaw stuck out a hand and grabbed the falling skaven, holding him tightly so the poor runt slapped into the wall instead, rubbing his snout and glaring up at Deathcoil before finding a foot hold. Deathcoil himself looked to Greenpop and signalled for him to go next. The Eshin sorcerer slipped his staff onto his back and leapt from the roof…falling slightly and holding onto the stonework above the target ledge, looking up and nodding affirmatively.

Deathcoil breathed hard, this was a hard jump at the best of times, and by far more challenging than the jump his kin had just made. He leant forwards and flipped over the edge, falling head first towards the stone ledge, as he closed on it, he placed his thin hands on the stone and let his muscles buckle slightly, the push held him still long enough to vault backwards swiftly, pushing himself through the window and landing on the cold flagstone floor of the room inside. He spun and let his claws slide from their bandages, locking between his fingers and glinting menacingly. The room was empty, for now at least. He looked around. What on earth these man-things were thinking with all these bright colours and odd assortments. It looked most unhealthy to Deathcoil. He rushed to the door on the other side of the room and listened intently by the lock, hearing a guard out in the hallway. He stopped stock still and slid to the side of the door, just in case.

At that moment, the others clambered into the room through the window and padded on the stone floor, their leather bound paws slapping on the stone gently as they looked to Deathcoil for their next move. They all moved forwards, pressing against the wall and watching their leader's movements. Useless poked his nose into a small pot of something on a table nearby, and sneezed as his nose was covered in white dust of some kind. He coughed and felt a sharp pain round his head as Manbane slapped him hard, scowling at the impertinent young whelp. Outside the door they heard the guard stop, and turn, his boots grinding on the stone as he did and place a key into the small lock. Deathcoil and his kin moved back into the shadows and stood stock still.

The door creaked open, and a long halberd head poked through the gap, followed by the rotund form of a fat guard, garbed in the familiar red and white that Deathcoil had seen so many times before. They waited until the man thing was fully in the room, and with a quick snap of his leg, Deathcoil closed the heavy door with a dull thud. As one, the lighted candles flickered and died as they blew them out. The skaven jumped, sliding their rusty blades deep into his flesh, Deathcoil climbed around the startled guard's shoulders and slowly slit his neck, muffling the screams in a gurgling drowning chock. The man slumped to the floor, crumpling under his own weight. Manbane swiped his halberd before it clattered and flung it onto the bed with his tail, sneering and licking the blood from his blades.

Deathcoil looked daggers at Useless and was about to scold him, when he realised they didn't have much time left. He looked out of the window and saw the twin moons disappearing behind one of the forts large towers. If they did not hurry it would be too late. He nodded to the others and they followed him, slinking out of the room and taking positions on either side of the wall, hugging the shadows cast by the dim torch brackets on the walls. Even Useless now was acting as one, he had learnt his lesson. They padded quickly across the passageway, not being disturbed by anyone, or anything in this tower as it wound towards the top. They reached the landing of their objective and Deathcoil held up a paw for them to stop. The assassins hunched low and as one sniffed the air, their target was near.

Deathcoil looked to the door ahead of him and signalled for them to hang back. He slinked forwards, and slipped a claw into the lock on the door. The engineers at Clan Skyre had done an exceptional job with this mechanical device on his wrist. A small key-like bronze object flicked out and he stuck it in the lock, twisting it slightly and hearing a resounding click of success. He smirked and nodded to the others to take up position on each side of the door. Slowly, he moved backwards and lined himself up with the doors hinge. He looked to Greenpop, who slipped a shard of warpstone grudgingly into the crack he had made and touched the end of his stave against it. Deathcoil leapt forwards, and as he hit the door feet first, the explosive green crystal blasted the door to smithereens, sending wood flying everywhere. Deathcoil landed in the room, and heard a BANG! Echo next to his face.

He barely dodged the pistol round, which thudded into the floor next to him. He snarled and looked up into the face of a scarred human, brandishing two pistols at his face. Deathcoil quickly ducked to the side and slipped under the bed lying next to him, hearing the man shout loudly curses and prayers. He glanced back and saw the rest of his kin enter the room, jumping onto the walls and assorted cupboard, advancing on the lone human, he would not survive.

Manbane leapt, claws barred at the human's chest, but the old man was too quick and loosed a round into him as he sailed through the air. The metal round slugged into his shoulder and Manbane was sent flying backwards head over heel slamming into the passage outside and slumping to the floor injured. The others however were now upon the man. Slackjaw landed on his shoulder and stabbed his blades into his shoulders, while Useless dived at his stomach, sliding his two swords into his belly and pushing him backwards to the floor. Slackjaw twisted round the old mans neck and he landed perfectly as he crashed to the floor, panting, blood pouring from his mouth. Deathcoil slipped from under the bed and walked to the table and their prize.

He looked back and saw Greenpop tending to Manbane's wounds. The Sorcerer applied a healthy quantity of skalm to the wound and picked the winced assassin to his feet. The wound looked better already. Deathcoil turned back and leafed through the papers on the desk, looking for the seal he needed to signify his target. He found it, a red stamp shaped like two hammers of those disgusting stunted dwarves. He spat on the floor as he thought about it and rolled the map in his hands and slipped it into his tight black clothing. He looked out of the window nearby, the moon disappeared behind the wall of the fort and a bell sounded the changing of the guard. He signalled to the other and in signal file they skittered to a locked window set deep into the wall. After flicking the lock open once more with the smart lock pick they leapt from the window, he could hear their claws grating against the stone outside.

Deathcoil turned and slouched low over the man-thing lying bleeding and panting heavily, his eyes burning with pain and delirious thoughts. He slid the dagger like blades from his wrist and placed them over his neck.

"Sleep…time…human" He whispered, his throat hurting to form such foul human words, and in one swift motion sliced deftly across his neck, blood spilling forth and coating his blades. He smirked, and looked down the passageway the sound of guards footsteps on the stone. He turned and leapt from the window, his work was done.