Gentleman of Fortune: I don't not own any of the gamework shop copyrights
and all that, though I wish I did
The Council of Thirteen sat in the dark musty room not moving a muscle. The frantic heavy breath came from a pile of torn and bloodied rags.
"Yes yes, O merciful masters your ultimate creation will not fail as the prior one did you have clan Moulders personal assurance of that." The Skaven managed to squeak out through the pain.
A soft almost nonexistent voice issued from the ancient hood rat in the center of the horseshoe shaped table.
"I do hope so for your master's sake." a sneer evident in its hushed voice. He began to mutter in an incomprehensible language. A high pitched scream tore through the writhing Skaven on the floor as his ribs fractured and blood frothed from his throat as the hapless rat-man met as slow agonizing death.
"What if thisss experiment isss alsso a failure" said a council member a few places down from where leader of the thirteen was sitting.
"It will not fail It can not and must not fail if we want the superior race to triumph over our inferiors." He said venom dripping from every word in his voice.
Another voice came in quieter than that of the leader of the thirteen but many times more audible.
"Yes that is true but we must also consider what we shall do if this one fails like the last one. Will we continue with this endeavor or shall we cease this foolish plan." He says with hardly concealed contempt.
"It..will..not..fail" says yet another council member with anger filling every word.
"If it does Master Moulder Throt will only feed on his own flesh." Says the leader of the thirteen as all goes motionless once again in the tower of Skavenblight.
Gentleman of fortune: well now that that is done I can post chapter one * evil grin and Napoleon pose* well hopefully it is better than this one anyway review and ill post the next one. ~rubs hands together in a anticipating way~ mawhahaha
The Council of Thirteen sat in the dark musty room not moving a muscle. The frantic heavy breath came from a pile of torn and bloodied rags.
"Yes yes, O merciful masters your ultimate creation will not fail as the prior one did you have clan Moulders personal assurance of that." The Skaven managed to squeak out through the pain.
A soft almost nonexistent voice issued from the ancient hood rat in the center of the horseshoe shaped table.
"I do hope so for your master's sake." a sneer evident in its hushed voice. He began to mutter in an incomprehensible language. A high pitched scream tore through the writhing Skaven on the floor as his ribs fractured and blood frothed from his throat as the hapless rat-man met as slow agonizing death.
"What if thisss experiment isss alsso a failure" said a council member a few places down from where leader of the thirteen was sitting.
"It will not fail It can not and must not fail if we want the superior race to triumph over our inferiors." He said venom dripping from every word in his voice.
Another voice came in quieter than that of the leader of the thirteen but many times more audible.
"Yes that is true but we must also consider what we shall do if this one fails like the last one. Will we continue with this endeavor or shall we cease this foolish plan." He says with hardly concealed contempt.
"It..will..not..fail" says yet another council member with anger filling every word.
"If it does Master Moulder Throt will only feed on his own flesh." Says the leader of the thirteen as all goes motionless once again in the tower of Skavenblight.
Gentleman of fortune: well now that that is done I can post chapter one * evil grin and Napoleon pose* well hopefully it is better than this one anyway review and ill post the next one. ~rubs hands together in a anticipating way~ mawhahaha