Among the numerous cone shaped tents, stood Gingkin's furred head staring at the expansive blue skies. His eyes were closed alike his aching mind, for it only thought of the friends that were no longer around. For civilized creatures, nothing is more important than the camaraderie that friends share instinctively during their day to day living. He held that to heart as he sent a silent prayer to the ethereal Horned Rat. A prayer that'll instill the will to live in each of his friends, and give them the prowess necessary to live past the dangers that will inevitably confront them.
Gingkin lowered his solemn face, opened his white eyes, and observed his surroundings. Cone shaped tents of various colors littered the grassy ground with numerous Skaven troops wearing an assortment of clothing and armor. They sharpened their tools and weapons, mean while others did erratic activities with each other to pass the time.
Gingkin tried to hold back the raging rivers that prodded at the curvature of his eyes, and be a strong warrior that would fulfill his duty of killing the inferior reptile-things with ruthless efficiency. However, by the hard aching seconds, his raging rivers of yearnful memories broke though, and formed streams of tears that ran down onto the flanks of his brown furred maw. He failed, and he woefully knew it.
Depressed, Gingkin randomly carried his well clothed self by the many tents and lively Skaven warriors. A tent like no other appeared in his vision with its colossal size and rectangular shape. Upon entering the tent, he saw the many colorful and shiny gems stockpiled onto wooden tables. However, in the middle of it all, a fully armored rat with its long claws caressed and marveled upon a sea of gems that surrounded it.
Gingkin noted the rat's grey fur which visually denoted him as a smart and logical thinker. It was without a doubt, incredibly absorbed in the shiny gems that were constantly being dropped and fondled upon by its sharp claws.
"Zhen Headrunner."
Zhen took his indulged stare from his precious gems and locked onto the intruder whom dared to interrupt his heavenly trance of gem inspection.
"…What do you dare to disturb me with?!"
"It has been over a day, and the slave rat detachment didn't return from their raid on the temples yet," Gingkin solemnly answered back with his kneeled snout.
"So?"
Gingkin's head shot up in surprise and found a nonchalant Zhen fondling with another gem.
"Shouldn't we mount-do a rescue attempt, or anything?"
"We'll be receiving reinforcements from across the Yuatek River for the fall of Zlatlan, and you want that delayed for a few hundred useless slaves?" Zhen's pink tail thrashed around its gems violently.
"…It's just that we could use any help we can get-acquire in Zlatlan's fall."
Zhen's thrashing tail cooled down at the frankly good point made by his subordinate. Zhen even picked up a violent red ruby to sedate himself further. However, delaying Zlatlan's fall for an expandable horde of stupid slaves was still nonsensical.
"If their raid was successful, they would've already came back with the shiny riches and gave them all to me… Oh well. Chances are they're already dead."
Gingkin's aching mind came back in full force at the worst of his fears. The dark truth was incredibly obvious, but Gingkin wanted to hold back for hope, for the hope that somehow they would survive their telling signs of slaughter. With gritting teeth, Gingkin objected Zhen's logical assumption.
"No… no… I DON'T ACCEPT THIS!"
All of the sudden, Zhen leapt from his sea of riches, and swiftly delivered an uppercut on Gingkin's narrow, furry chin in a fury of anger. Gingkin's entire body flew for mere seconds before painfully landing right where it came from.
"Get out."
Those bleak, emotionless words barely registered in Gingkin's mind, as he tried to stand with the throbbing pain beating in his face. He looked up into Zhen's eyes and saw the rage fumbling out. Gingkin's own soon followed for it would seem Zhen never cared at all about the previous sacrifices Gingkin's friends made to get him his riches in their selfless actions.
"GET OUT!"
This time, Gingkin earnestly tried with all of his might to stand and get away from this dammed war lord as far away as possible. He made his way by the numerous cone shaped tents with skaven of all sorts romanticizing and dreaming about the plunder Zlatlan will eventually behold them to.
Gingkin found himself on the Encampment's jungle clearing that surrounded the whole encampment. In an effort to find peace in his mind, he randomly chose a random direction, and went further into the jungle interior to mentally prepare himself for the duties that will come for him in the future. However, it's hard to do so without thinking about the numerous slave rats that are presumably dead without any of their varying souls to toil their bodies. The losses are truly great.
Gingkin raised his head and found that the expansive blue sky was thoroughly concealed with cloud cover. With the clouds telling Gingkin the coming of rain, he found his resolve amidst his eye's tranquil stare of the vast clouds. He'll find the remains of his dead friends and bury them in a strange tradition man-things do to their dead. Only then would he hopefully find peace for his mind, he hoped.
In Gingkin's stare of the clouds, a large flock of birds launched themselves from the trees and flew right to left underneath the vast clouds. Gingkin's head lowered, and found a large line of blue figures trampling the undergrowth and maneuvering between the trees in the distance. The figures had what seemed to be large silver swords, and flailed them about wildly.
Gingkin stood there in pure awe. It would seem the Horned Rat actually observed him, read his mental thoughts, and answered his prayer. The slave rats whom were deemed dead from their dareful raid, were running back to their home army fully alive with unfathomable amounts of plunder.
Gingkin launched himself at the figures with joy over riding his muscles and nervous system. Soon, fond memories of decapitating inferior reptile-things and stealing gold flooded his mind as a vital piece of his own self was returning from a long hiatus.
But a terrible realization suddenly followed.
As Gingkin got within mere feet of the figures, he visually noticed the numerous amounts of blue scales that covered their entire bodies. Their faces were rough with numerous creases, and the heads were flat with a smooth crest.
It immediately clicked to him that these weren't slave rats over joyed with their blue plunder, but rather furious looking Saurus charging at him with their primitive clubs.
Gingkin stopped his over joyed suicidal charge, and promptly turned around to run for his life. He skillfully weaved through the trees and acknowledged the sharp features of the undergrowth alike how any skaven would know how to if survival is their top priority. He instinctively slowed a tad in order to look over his shoulders, and saw he was outpacing them relatively easily. However, they were still hot on his hairless tail.
The Encampment was finally in Gingkin's full view as was the numerous skaven going about their activities, fully unaware of the murderous danger coming. That was before Gingkin could have a crying shriek about that.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
Soon, the encampment was enshrouded with complete chaos. Rats everywhere were running among the tents and their fellow warriors, desperately equipping themselves with various weapons and armor.
Zhen immediately dropped his beloved gems and gripped his ridiculously long halberd to see what the mahrlect was going on outside. He made his way through the numerous rats running amok with weapons and armor before seeing and understanding the cause of all of this commotion.
Or rather didn't fathom the lack of joy.
Zhen saw a modest line of twenty or so Saurus charging at the encampment from the tree line. They were led by a fairly tall one that had golden plates strapped to its stout torso. But that was it. His mouth soon contorted into a maniacal grin. If this was truly what Zlatlan can muster to defend themselves, they'll fall in no time!
"Stop screwing around and form your ranks! Quickly!" Zhen shrieked out loudly at his subordinates.
In a timely manner, the rats organized into massive formations with their blades ready for the reptile-things' blood. Zhen was incredibly pleased as massive formations of rats organized themselves in front of him, meanwhile additional formations were created on the flanks of the main formations.
In the watchful eyes of Zhen, the force assembled had hundreds of well trained and armed rats against a small band of inferior reptile-things. With a long nail, he ordered the powerful horde with a simple order.
"Kill them all!"
Kha'kor and his fellow Saurus warriors charged out from the myriad of trees and found themselves in a large clearing. Ahead of them, stood numerous white tents occluded by hordes of rats with numerous assortments of weapons and armor rushing straight for them.
"Halt!"
At the sonorous command of their Saurus Scar Veteran, the group halted their charging advance and stood staring at their incoming enemy.
In Kha'kor's watchful gaze, he analyzed the massive groups of skaven that were rushing at them from the front, meanwhile additional formations assisted their charge from their flanks. His clawed grip on his mountainous spear tightened as he waited patiently for their ferocious assault.
In the face of this seemingly endless vermintide, the Saurus' faces were motionless, with fear restraining their thick tails. Kha'kor could read the fear oozing from their bodies and understood it perfectly. They could very well die here with nothing on their parts to prevent such an abrupt and painful fate. However, alike how a warrior entrusts their leader to lead and protect, Kha'kor entrusted his fellow warriors to fulfill their duties and orders to the best of their abilities.
Only then would this mutual trust give them their chances of survival.
Gingkin's brown fur was under assault by the occurring rain drops and fast gusts of wind. He was running amok in the empty encampment looking for his sword. Everywhere he went, there was not a ratty soul or weapon in the desolate camp. Finally, in the corner of his eye, he found a lonely sword resting on the moist dirt surrounded by numerous tents. He rushed over to it before a loud shriek stopped him in his tracks.
"What are you doing? Get to the front!"
Gingkin turned his long snout around to see a well armored Zhen armed with a ridiculous halberd eclipsing its height by nearly two times.
"S-Sorry, I forgot-misplaced my sword."
Zhen looked at his underling with great contempt before allowing him to get his sword. He wants those inferior reptile-things dead as soon as possible, and stragglers aren't going to help achieve that.
However, Gingkin stood before the sword with his tail thrashing uncontrollably. Something about Zhen made his blood boil.
"Why aren't you fight-killing as well?"
Zhen's halberd shook with shock at such a question, "Excuse me? As warlord over this army, my life is too precious for the bloody toils of my own body!"
"But your armor can fully negate-block their primitive clubs and help us!" Gingkin yelled with all of his might. He didn't understand Zhen's cowardly reasoning at all.
"Warlords are the sole reason for an army's tactical organization. As such, warriors like you don't need my physical help…" Zhen's claws were growing increasingly livid, "You need my ORDERS!"
Zhen dropped his halberd and leapt at Gingkin with his claws held firm.
Gingkin instinctively flinched and held up his sleeved arms in response, but Zhen aimed for Gingkin's stomach instead and launched him into the air. He painfully landed right beside the lonely sword which almost impaled his thin hide. His head looked up and saw Zhen's maniacal grin.
"Get to the fight, or I'll kill you."
Gingkin's entire body struggled to get up with this dammed stomach of his sapping the energy from his muscles. His hatred for Zhen grew enormously as he began to think about his friends yet again, and how Zhen used them for his own profit. And it would seem he's still doing it to him and the rest of the army.
However, before Gingkin could grip his sword, a small, blue figure swiftly came from the shadows of the nearby tents and charged at Zhen from behind. Gingkin's eyes widen as he immediately thought it was one of the same reptile-things that he ran from a while ago!
"ZHEN! Behind you!"
Zhen was mildly bewildered at his subordinate's sudden outburst before turning his head behind. He couldn't react or do anything when the figure's blade-less club bludgeoned him on the side of his head, knocking him down easily onto the grassy dirt. Gingkin's heart sank and he found his gut overloaded with pure fear at the sight of his warlord being stricken down. He grabbed his sword quickly and got up to defend himself from this orange crested thing that appeared from nowhere.
It impressively leapt from Zhen's motionless body and flew right at him with its club held firm in its scaly hands. The club clashed with Gingkin's sword, thrusting the inertia of the Skink's charge onto Gingkin's body.
Their respective blades grinded at each other to a standstill with their masters' eyes glaring at each other in their struggle. The skink's large golden eyes were strangely relaxed as if it wasn't in a life or death struggle at all. Skinks usually tense themselves too much when they're in the thick of the fighting, which often makes them susceptible to mistakes. During Gingkin's ironic trance of thinking, the skink directed all of its strength to the rusty tip of Gingkin's sword. In doing so, the sword moved counter-clock wise away from Gingkin's unfocused grip, and provided an excellent opening.
Gingkin stared at the Skink's death imposing club with utter shock. This is it. Time to die.
The club indiscriminately bolted into Gingkin's stomach as if it wasn't abused enough at all, and sent Gingkin whooshing into the rainy air before finally landing face down onto the ground below. He expected a painful but quick death, but instead, his stomach ached and his muscles found it hard to respond to his nervous impulses. He laid his claws on his gut and found no blood leaking from such a violent attack. He immediately realized that the Skink's club mysteriously had no blades on it, which made it effectively useless in killing just about anything.
Gingkin's head shot up and found the Skink fighting multiple armed rats with unbelievable ease. It dodged and parried their attacks whilst responding in its own as if it's in a metaphorical dance to the death, only that it won't be able to kill any of them.
Gingkin eventually got up and tried to get out of this encampment with his life. He stumbled across the desolate tents and stumbled his way forth into the jungle interior away from this dammed place. Finally, the encampment was far behind him, and he was at home alone with the trees surrounding him.
Gingkin stopped and looked at the trees above him that were bringing down rain drops in full force. He got out with his life, but now what? His mind was literally aflame with numerous thoughts on what to do, that it didn't notice a certain thing that followed him the whole time.
Turning around immediately, Gingkin spotted another one of those orange crested things with their oversized golden eyes and primitive clubs. Only this time, the blades on the club weren't missing.
It stopped and stared at Gingkin with visually noticeable anger. Gingkin stared right back at it unsure of what it's going to do next. He's unarmed, so it should naturally charge and end him, but that wasn't happening. Instead, it's standing there with its imposing stare.
The cold air between the two creatures turned tense as each second between the two stretched to a lifetime that could come to an abrupt and bloody end.
Finally, to the relief of Gingkin's life expectancy, the skink lurched back awkwardly before turning its long tail and running away to the encampment.
Gingkin stared at the retreating Skink's tail in awe. Two times his life has been spared by these things that would've easily killed him, but didn't out of mercy? Ironically, in their positions he wouldn't have hesitated to sink his blade into the blood of his would be defenseless enemies.
Whatever the thing's strange reasoning, he's alive and alone with an ambition to satisfy. Gingkin hurried himself further and further into the jungle interior, even finding an abandoned, rusty sword until he became one with the trees and ferns.
Akin to the scaly things he had always seen as inferior.
Before the Skaven encampment, laid the jungle clearing drenched in the cold, desolate rain from the dark clouds above. Blood of the Sauri and the Skaven alike in their red hue and cellular composition, splashed onto the dirt below with their parents falling down along with them onto the drenched ground.
The Skaven continually plunged themselves onto the clubs of the Sauri. Saurus surrounding Kha'kor fell one by one from the relentless assaults and slashes of the numerous vermintide. Blades constantly found themselves grapping and piercing Kha'kor's scaly skin with varying amounts of success of drawing his blood. The killing still went on when Kha'kor and his Saurus dwindled to only a few standing.
The Skaven finally seemed to be on the verge of totally eliminating the lone group of Saurus, when additional cohorts of the Sauri emerged from the surrounding tree lines. They converged on the skaven horde's flanks and from behind, fully encircling them. Although Kha'kor and his sauri cohorts were still massively outnumbered, the psychological effect of being encircled, toiled on the minds of the well numbered and trained Skaven ranks.
They wanted Zhen's orders. His powerful presence and guidance was something all of them wanted to brake this encirclement and crush these inferior reptile-things under their massive might.
But they never came.
Instead, by the bloody minutes of fierce fighting, the rats' need for a strong and competent leader to give them the orders to fight effectively went unfulfilled. As a result, hundreds of the rats tried to drop their weapons and flee with their lives, but they were caught defenseless by the deadly clubs of the Sauri. A savage slaughter devoid of mercy soon followed, and not long after, the vast dirt was littered with ratty corpses that used to have souls full of dreams and hopes, now splashed worthlessly onto the drenched jungle floor in their blood.
Kha'kor looked on to the dancing ground with his gashed legs barely standing. Countless bodies of the Skaven intermingled with the stouter ones of the Saurus. Many of the rats he thought were dead, flailed around in screaming pain with their limbs missing. The Sauri all around him didn't wait for him, and took it upon themselves to roar their victory over the defeated vermin.
But in Kha'kor's eyes, all of them weren't defeated, for there's one foe of the enemy uncounted for. He eyed the Encampment further up, and with each painful stroke, limped with his bloodied spear towards the myriad of tents.
The battle wasn't over yet…
Surrounded by riches, Zhen sat by a table's leg. The cold air stood motionless alike Zhen's unconscious body. An incredibly powerful noise reverberated throughout the serene air. It shook the innards of the various gems that resided in peace, and made the neutral air the carrier and messenger of the noise's strong meaning.
Zhen groggily opened his eyes and observed his surroundings. He was inside a fairly large tent with lots of wooden furniture residing on the white walls of the tent. Shiny gems of numerous colors were stashed everywhere they could it would seem. Those gems literally smacked his mind as he remembered something. The fight!
Zhen instinctively tried to bring up his arms to get up, but they wouldn't budge. He swiveled his head to the ultimate limit, and found thick chains attaching his bony wrists to the table leg behind him. Soon, he realized the probable outcome of his army actually being defeated and him being captured by those measly saurus. But how?! Last time he glanced at the Saurus, they've already lost one from the first impact of his army!
That sonorous noise still kept on sounding off, which audibly denoted the embarrassing and frankly impossible loss Zhen's army has indeed endured. Zhen gritted his teeth and tried to break free, but the chains stood firm and made the pressure on Zhen's bony wrists worse. During his struggle, something much closer eclipsed the roaring remarkably well in his ears. It was a loud thumping sound that's usually made when someone's walking.
Zhen stared at the entrance of the tent as the sound got louder and closer. Tension made his heart race with uncertainty as to who's coming or what.
Unceremoniously, the owner of those footsteps waltzed in and glared at Zhen himself with visible anger. Its entire small body were covered in bright blue scales, whereas the entirety of its gut and chest area were hued in a lighter version of blue. Most of its slim, elongated head were dominated by large golden eyes, and an orange crest resided on the top.
Zhen stared at the menacing club it held in its ebony scaly claws. It was well drenched in blood and gave him the feeling this will be his executioner. His gut's muscles contracted in fear of such a grim assumption, but it seems the truth in front of him was unavoidable. He swallowed his own saliva and knelt his head down to confront his fate. But that loud thumping sound was made again instead of something plunging into him.
Zhen looked up to see the reptile-thing slowly walk away with its long slender tail bouncing from side to side. He wasn't sure why it walked on in like that only to leave a few seconds later, but Zhen learnt something neat a long time ago to deal with these reptilian creatures. He wasn't sure how good it'll be, but he thought he may as well try it out before dying.
"…Hey."
The reptilian-thing turned back with its golden eyes wider than before, much to Zhen's amusement.
"…Saurian?"
"Yes, it turns out learning the most inferior language has its uses, besides sounding incredibly special," Zhen answered back with a mocking smile.
However, the Skink didn't take such a sneer as lightly, and moved towards the chained rat with murderous silence.
"Wait! I'm but only an insignificant pebble on the vast dirt, waiting to be squatted and stepped on…" Zhen's body shivered with an innocent smile, "…Please don't kill me."
The Skink stopped his silent approach and pleasurably smiled at such a dramatic turn of words.
"That's better… If anyone's going to kill you, you're already dead."
"Heh, totally," Zhen replied back with nervousness plaguing his shaking muscles. He's not fully aware of it, but his mind is afraid of the inevitable time it'll shut down without its consent.
A period of silence presided over the two as the skink stared at its prisoner. It never heard of a rat being able to speak saurian, let alone with such fluency. Although the accent of its words sounded highly unnatural, it understood this armored vermin fairly well. Such fluency graced the skink's ears when the rat spoke up with its high pitched voice again.
"What's your name by the way?"
"Tenx."
"Mine's Zhen Headrunner. Zhen stands for preciousness and rarity," Zhen proudly explained with a graceful upward tilt of his head.
"Really? Not precious enough to not be caught prisoner I see," Tenx chuckled lightly with his claws gripping his mouth.
"Well… Death would honestly be a fate worse than being enslaved for the rest of your life…" Zhen embarrassedly responded before turning his head down, "To die and end up in an endless suspension where you can't feel, touch, or hear anything…"
Tenx waited for this Zhen to finish up on his sentence, but nothing came to be of it. He stared at Zhen's kneeled down state and felt the pain that Zhen was experiencing, seep into his own mind. He himself doesn't want to die either, but something conflicted with his continual wish of not doing so, at least in the far future.
"I disagree."
Zhen's disgruntled face lifted up to see Tenx's head inclined towards the roof of the white tent with a slight smile.
"I like to think that we as the first serve a higher cause of the Old Ones, not merely because they're our creators, but to make something incomprehensibly good of this broken world for others…" Tenx's head descended to reveal his smile turning wider, "When that cause is fulfilled, I wouldn't fear death at all."
Zhen was in utter shock at what he just heard. He thought these reptile-things were intellectually inferior beings to be enslaved and killed. But this particular thing is contradicting such firmly held stereotypes in a very scary manner.
"What about the skaven? Why fight?"
Zhen pondered on that question but couldn't come up with an answer at all. In fact, he didn't know at all. Zhen gestured his head at a humongous pile of shiny gems. The only thing he could've thought of.
"I see then… inanimate objects that hold an illusion of wealth and power," Tenx uttered out with great contempt whilst making his voice deeper and darker. The scaly grip on his club hardened as did his furious anger.
"Then our cause is just! We will win this WAR!"
Zhen instinctively flinched with his back grinding at the table leg behind him. His heart sank at such an outburst.
"O-Ok… not like I won't be able to do anything about that."
It took a while, but Tenx sedated himself from Zhen's nervous submission, and even smiled slightly. Once again, silence presided over the atmosphere inside the tent. Tenx studied Zhen's fancy etiquette of armor and well-made clothes that distinguished him from the many similar malnourished rats he fought and saw die. However, It often meant Tenx's big golden eyes pierced into Zhen's mind, making the latter extremely uncomfortable by each second that passed between them.
Suddenly, Zhen's beady eyes widened in horror. Tenx was surprised by this and wanted to ask what was going on, but something deep in his mind told him to turn around instead.
Alike Zhen, Tenx's own golden eyes also widened with his gut sinking.
A bloodied Saurus stood at the entrance of the tent with its golden armor dented and stained. It was slightly slouched against the colossal spear it was holding as support. With its small red eyes, it stared at both Tenx and Zhen with unsettling silence. Finally, it limped once from the entrance.
"Step aside, Skink."
Tenx's muscles promptly contracted in accords to the saurus' order. But Tenx himself wasn't sure what Kha'kor would want with Zhen. Everywhere he looked at Kha'kor, he could see numerous wounds that had opened up on his scaly skin. Blood had literally converted his powerful blue sheen to a redden hue and he looked weak with each stride.
Zhen gulped his own saliva at the sight of such a fearsome figure. This is the one that has defeated his own army single-handedly against all of the odds stacked against it. Zhen slightly lowered his head in shameful submission.
"A-As you can see He-Here, I'm totally defenseless and ripe for your interrogational needs."
Kha'kor's pained limp stopped with mild surprise at what this vermin just uttered and stared into the rat's fearful eyes.
"I never saw you command your pathetic excuse of rats, or fight alongside them."
"R-Really?" Zhen replied back nervously, as he recalled what happened before being knocked out.
"They were masterfully encircled by cohorts I hid all around the encampment," Kha'kor explained with a maniacal grin brimming across his face, "They're all dead now."
Zhen's bewildered eyes stared back at Kha'kor absolutely dumbfounded. To be out matched physically by these reptile-things is one thing, but to actually be outsmarted by them!? The grey fur that proudly denoted him as a skilled tactician and thinker was all a lie then… all of it.
In Zhen's wallow of shame, he didn't notice that Kha'kor took an additional two limps forward, stopped, and gripped his spear with both of his scaly claws…
"Wait, he's defenseless!" Tenx yelled with all of might as he figured out exactly what Kha'kor was going to do. His heart throbbed, his mind dominated by the fear he knew from combat all too well.
"Time to DIE!" Kha'kor roared as he plunged his spear in an untrackable sideways swipe.
"NO, PLEASE, I WANT TO LI-" Zhen shrieked louder with his shorter vocal cords, but couldn't finish his blood curdling plea. Kha'kor's humongous spear cleaved through Zhen's long neck, instantly dropping Zhen's head onto the moist dirt.
Zhen's headless body slowly slumped to the side and gorged out a pool of red hot blood onto the ground beside his head.
Tenx's perception of time literally froze as if a sledgehammer thwacked him in the stomach. From Tenx's point of view, he could see the wide, red cavity that used to connect Zhen's functioning head with the rest of his body.
"What the mahrlect were you doing, Skink?"
Tenx's utter shock was disturbed by that lowly grumble of saurian seemingly unfazed by the gruesome act it just committed.
"…Y-You murderer."
"Murderer? Interesting word to describe this," Kha'kor looked down onto his latest kill with an emotionless expression before limping off towards the tent's entrance.
Tenx's blood boiled and his body shook with rage. He was angry Kha'kor could do something so incredibly depraved to another living creature and not care at all.
"Why?! This isn't right, this isn't justifiable!"
Kha'kor turned around and glared at the Skink's shaking body before continuing his way out of the gem infested tent. He wanted to get some rest for the duties that will eventually come for him, and this shrieking Skink wasn't going to help that.
Kha'kor was pleased to see the heavy rain stopped, and instead, only tiny rain drops fell from the dark clouds above onto his pained scales. He still pondered on why the Skink fed the enemy that would've easily turned around and betray him. He had heard multiple rumors of Skinks behaving in such a way towards the enemy, which made it worrisome there's such an example hiding in his army. Perhaps that's the major downfall of Skinks. Not their inadequate physical strength, but rather their day to day psychological quarrels that prevents them from earnestly fulfilling their duty in service of the Old Ones.
Kha'kor mockingly smirked at himself for thinking so much during a tiring time. He carried himself randomly into a tent until his vision contorted into a distorted, blurry mess of his surroundings. His body collapsed down onto the dirt flooring with his bloodied spear peacefully dropping next to him.
Tenx stared at the bloody mess that was of Zhen's corpse that talked to him only a few minutes ago. The blood stopped gorging out from his body, but as a result, there was a large pool of blood almost comparable to the vastness of the Great Ocean. Tenx knelt down to Zhen's bloody head that still had its horrified expression and wept. In Tenx's surge for his insatiable greed, he wept for the head to will itself back to life and talk to him again. But it never responded. Instead, both Zhen's head and its body ignored him in their silence.
An empty feeling soon overcame Tenx's whole body as he still stared at the corpse of Zhen. It made his muscles weak and brittle, his mind ached with painful throbs, and an immortal hole carved into Tenx's gut. Eventually, he found it hard to stand competently.
Tenx silently sent a prayer to the Old Ones, the ethereal forthbringers of the Great Plan, to give Zhen's soul peace.
The enemy of his cause and theirs.