Brik's laboratory was buzzing with activity. Skaven Slaves and Brik's acolytes buzzed across the open square carrying much needed test subjects and supply. Cages brimming with captured Mer-things, Bug-things, and Skaven Slaves lined the walls. Their cries drowned out by the cacophony of construction and chatter from the apathetic masses which surrounded them.
A pile of carrion lay in the center of the room, cadaver of all species added to its mass. The resting place of Brik's failed experiments. Many were patchwork creatures, taken apart and rearranged with the parts of other beasts to satisfy the Master Moulder's curiosity. One was a soldier Bug-thing, it's exoskeleton had greatly deteriorated. In its place was soft flesh covered in patches of brown fur. The creature was bulkier than the average Clanrat, yet was still dwarfed in size by the Rat Ogre.
Many other creatures were far less whole, with entire segments of its body removed and replaced with the equivalent parts of an unfortunate Skaven Slave. Many, if not most creatures subject to this did not survive, the unlucky ones, however, did. These creatures were corralled into pens yet they did not move. Whether this was due to lack of control of their own faculties or from mental anguish, Skritch did not care.
What he did care about was Brik's lack of results. The creatures he had produced had been weak, fragile creatures which hardly held a candle to the monstrosities which had been created with the creatures in their home world. Each expedition to the surface to capture test subjects put them at greater risk of being discovered.
Despite this, Skritch considered himself lucky. Each time a Man-thing or Mer-thing came close to discovering Ratwarren, whether they were unfortunate enough to be discovered during a Bug-thing nest raid or simply stumbled upon the tunnels, they were quickly and easily dispatched or captured. Their existence must be kept a secret until the time is right, the Under-Empire was still in its infancy, he did not want to risk losing what he had built to a gaggle of over-eagre Clanrats.
Skritch's bodyguards pushed a path through the crowded laboratory, allowing him to comfortably walk to Brik's personal lair. His frustrations, however, were exacerbated as he had to wait for a stream of Skaven Slaves to finish filing through the door with yet more failed experiments. Skritch's eyes shifted, scanning the surrounding area for threats. He hated waiting, any over-ambitious Clanrat with a deathwish could make an attempt on his life. He reminded himself to be vigilant at all times.
Finally, the path to Brik was cleared. Brik was absorbed in his work, the centerpiece of the room was a winged creature captured from Under-Cheydinhal. It struggled in futility against its bonds as Brik prepared to splice the creature with a hapless Skaven Slave which was bound next to it. The chamber was humid and blood pooled towards the center of the floor. Skritch couldn't help but smile at the misfortune of the two miserable creatures.
"Brik! I where-where are new Mer-things?" Skritch snapped.
Slightly agitated now that his concentration had been broken, Brik set his tools back onto the table beside him and turned to face the Murderlord.
"Gnash-crushed into Bug-thing food! Listen-followed your order-command and bludgeon-based them quick, yes-yes!" Brick chittered his teeth in amusement, the wheezing ever slightly more audible from the exertion.
Skritch, however, was not as enthralled. Mere days after demanding their disposal did he realize that they would be better used to give them precious information about the mysterious world his clan has found itself in. Killing or otherwise disposing of the slimy surface dwellers was a force of habit, they had never really had the need to interrogate them.
He grumbled about his frustrations inaudibly, his scratched his tar-black fur careful not to allow his claws to dig into his own skin.
"Also, send less-few surface-raids! Yes-yes, new creatures to use-make, might lead Mer-things to find-learn we exist!"
Brik jolted, a mixture of surprise and disbelief across his face.
"fewer-less surface-raids means fewer-less experiments!" Brik sputtered. "Fewer-less warbeasts for Clan Gnawmak!"
Skritch recoiled at the realization of the significance of his own words. He sounded like the Council, not to mention that making an enemy out of Brik and his warbeasts would not be good for his walk back his words now would be to show weakness. He thought quickly on how he might soften the blow.
"Much-more raids when we attack-take the surface! Don't cease-stop raids, send fewer-less!"
Softening the blow of his words would come a long way towards lessening any potential resentment Brik may have to him. He cursed himself for this blunder. Brik seemed to be somewhat placated.
"Fine-fine, sneaky-skulking raids will be smaller-fewer. But I need-must grab-take more subjects!"
Brik turned back around to his ongoing experiment, eyeing the still bound creature with malicious intent. He raised a crude cleaver from his repertoire. Brik chittered as he slowly approached the increasingly panicked creature. Skritch's curiosity was piqued, he wanted nothing more than to observe the operation, however he was a busy Murderlord and other members of his inner-circle demanded his attention.
He motioned to his bodyguards to begin securing a pathway out of the grand laboratory. Blood curtling screams rang out of Brik's lair, but Skritch had no choice but to continue on his way. Were he to give into his curiosity he would not be able to leave.
Far to the exit, he saw many of Brik's acolytes leading a menagerie of different beasts into their cages. Many Squig-like creatures were often found around the surface of Ratwarren along with many strange humanoid creatures which were found around Under-Cheydinhal. Skritch was impressed with the efficiency that Brik was able to gather so many varied beasts from across this new world.
His heart sank soon thereafter. With his personal tunnels still under construction, he was still forced to contend with the cramped main passageways of the under-city. The next of his inner-circle he needed to check on was Skak, his Warlock-Engineer. Like any member of Clan Skryre he had been busy since the very moment he arrived. Innumerable Skaven Slaves had gathered great amounts of metals from the ground and a great workshop had been constructed deep beneath the surface, one that dwarfed even Brik's laboratory.
The workshop itself lay across the city. Past the countless intersecting warrens and chambers, countless amounts of busy Clanrats worked formically, carrying supplies to and fro. The Bug-thing pens, however, Skritch had never seen.
Since their discovery, the bug-things had become a much sought-after delicacy and a staple of Clan Gnawmak's diet. Thousands of Skaven Slaves tended to the creatures, scented such that the creatures would not attack them. A large enough breeding stock had been established but more and larger pens were excavated each day to keep up with the ever-increasing population of the new Under-Empire. Each under-city that was constructed now had a sizable population of bug-things to feed the Skaven. Brik in particular had been working strenuously to transform these bug-things into something more capable of keeping pace with Growing Skaven populations.
As Skritch drew closer to the workshop, many signs of Skak's engineering manifested itself. Pipeline emerged from the tunnel walls at random intervals, their locations and the contents they carried unknown to him. A large contingent of heavily armed and armoured Clanrats materialized from behind a corner ahead of the Murderlord. They streamed down the pathway. A large crumbling crash nearly deafened Skritch. His confusion and the resultant frustration got the best of him.
He grabbed the nearest Clanrat and jerked him towards himself.
"Where-where are you skitter-going? Where-where is Skak!"
The Clanrat shrunk in fear, the bravado he had but moments before now completely dissipated.
"Murderlord! Burrowers have tunnel-dug into new cave-nest! Metal-things trying to stab-kill us!"
They were under attack? And they hadn't the decency to tell Skritch about it?
"Where-where is Skak?"
"Skak is Fending-fighting metal-things!"
Corpses and viscera layered the surface of the open clearing before the Skaven mining expedition. Immediately after breaching into a seemingly ordinary cave system, they soon observed there to be large looming structures engraved into the very cave walls itself. The walls of the grand structure were accented and reinforced with burnished gold, embossed piping emerged from high above the main entrance and into distant cave walls.
Upon approaching the mysterious architecture, the whirring of gears and the grinding of rusted metal echoed through the cavern. Hundreds of bronze mechanical spiders surged from the main every vent, duct, and door available to them. Quick-thinking Clanrats cut the legs of nearby Skaven Slaves before fleeing. The mechanical spiders set upon the wounded vermin and dispatched them without mercy. In mere moments the initial expedition was eviscerated. The fortunate survivors were ordered by the expedition's leader to hold the mechanical creatures off until help arrived shortly before disappearing back into the tunnels of Ratwarren. Should they be found out to have fled, he would make certain that they be fed to the Bug-things
With their escape psychologically barred to them, the dozen or so remaining Clanrats drew cude cleavers and picks and prepared to face the remorseless machines. The first spiders crashed into the line, knocking some Skaven off their feet. One particularly eager Spider leapt a great height into the air and collided with a terrified Clanrat, the impact itself shattering bone and rendering the Clanrat unconscious. The spider set to work mutilating the poor rat with reckless abandon.
One miner, noticing the distracted Automaton, set upon the spider with his cleaver in a wide, overarching swing. It glanced off the creature's metal body, hardly even registering the blow. The few Skaven who had chosen to draw their picks, however, were far more fortunate. Those that found purchase in their hits managed to damage, and even cripple some of the Spiders. This did very little to dispatch the machines and typically ended up being killed by the very machines they had attacked.
The few remaining Skaven chose to flee, dropping everything they carried and scurried towards the tunnel they had emerged from. Unfortunately they had spent too much time making up their minds whether they should run and were met by a second wall of creatures. This time being a large contingent of armed Clanrats. A few hundred strong they charged the opposing lines of mechanical spiders. Washing over their ranks like a verminous wave of death. While the automata were successful in their original one-on-one battles with the unprepared clanrats, they were far less successful when being set upon by 5 of the rodents at once. In a blinding combined flurry of blows, limbs were hacked off of the spiders and through sheer force of numbers the machines were felled.
However more spiders trickled in from the distant ruins, along with a second type of enemy, it appeared to be entirely spherical in shape. Those Skaven with the time to observe these balls advance were bemused by it's apparent harmless nature. The spheres, however did not seem to be discouraged by this and approached at high speed. Once within range they transformed, the ball broke from its original form and a vaguely humanoid upper-body emerged from within.
In this deployed form, the incomplete sphere formed the base of their bodies with two metal legs attached to the inner-sides of the ball holding their body up. Their waist was a large gyro which connected the upper body to the legs in the sphere. The body was far more bulky, with complex and beautiful engravings covering the entirety of its surface. A long, serrated sword was affixed to it's right arm. While it's left mounted a self-loading crossbow which, as the Skaven would soon find out, fired in rapid succession. It's head was no less ornate than the body, with detailed and individual faces having been carved into each of the machines. It's head bore a large half moon shaped crest which like a canvas carried many embossed designs across its surface.
A dozen or so of these new automata surged toward the Skaven lines with blistering speed, cutting into them like a hot knife through butter. Deftly butchering the hapless Clanrats with inhuman efficacy. Some of the more brave Skaven charged the construct with their shields raised, a torrent of bolts came surging at the advancing formation, with many Skaven hit in their legs and abdomens.
The Clanrats who got within range would not face these spheres in a fair fight. While three Skaven struggled to hold the automata's wrath, a much larger group of Skaven swept in from behind and wrestled the construct to the ground. They covered the machine in a stabbing ball of fur and steel, hacking, smashing, and cutting wherever they could.
The surface of the cavernous clearing became slick with blood, both sides were forced to climb above their fallen comrades to engage with the enemy. Both spider and sphere trickled into the fight, dozens at a time. This was, however insufficient to stem the tide of maniacal mass of vermin surging towards them in the hundreds. For each Skaven the automata slew, 5 more would take their place.
The Skaven, however, soon lost their nerve when a rhythmic rumble of footfalls became audible in the distance. Many turned to flee, but were held back by a line of higher-ranking Clanrats who held a line of spears, prepared to skewer any who turned tail. The thunderous steps became louder and louder, the anticipation of every Ratkin there was palpable. Silence filled the room. The automata, who hadn't ceased their fighting in this time, stopped receiving reinforcements. The Skaven, encouraged by this, fought with greater ferocity until the doors of the distant ruins flew off their hinges with a deafening bang.
A bronze door soared through the air and crashed into an unfortunate group of Clanrats who exploded on impact, atomized blood sprayed across the battlefield and Skaven scattered immediately. Trying to flee past the now unnerved commanding Clanrat. Many were impaled by the line of spears but the terrified Rodents simply clambered over their fallen kin, passed the prepared line of spears, and continued their beeline towards safety.
From behind the doors emerged a colossal construct, it stood on two armoured legs, as thick as tree trunks. It's ornate chest reflected the torchlight of the petrified Skaven, accenting the large spherical core at the center of it's torso. It's elegantly designed arms had no hands, an affixed sword and axe took their place. It's finely carved faceplate seemed to evoke a sense of cold, cruel, hatred. It lumbered towards the large battleline of Skaven and dispatched half of the first rank with a single sweep of it's right arm, followed by it's left which took care of the unfortunate Skaven standing behind the first rank. Bits and pieces of Ratkin flew through the air.
The Skaven who hadn't already run, attempted to surround the monstrosity. Cutting at its legs with spears, weary of drawing any closer that they had to. The machine swiped across the ground once again. The Skaven deftly avoided the telegraphed attack and counterattacked the overextended construct. Little damage, if any, was dealt and the machine regained its posture. Steam vented from it's shoulders and eye sockets. A tight cluster of Clanrat reinforcements wearily charged towards the colossal figure. Which paused for a moment, streams of steam ceased flowing and built up within. It braced itself and released a massive burst of scalding hot steam onto the unprepared Clanrats before him.
The frenzied screams of agony from dozens of Clanrats rang through the field. Those that remained instantly broke into a rout. Hundreds of Skaven raced past each other in a bid to be the first out of the range of the seemingly invulnerable beast. Another more consistent rumbling seemed to become more and more audible from within the tunnel they had emerged from. The smart Clanrats slowed to a stop and cautiously observed the desperate Ratkin flood into the tunnel.
They were quickly tuned to paste. In their desperate rush to flee from the construct they failed to hear the signs of the colossal doomwheel which had careened out of the tunnel. Skak squeaked manically as warp lightning arced towards both Skaven and Automata that drew too close to the Skaven Warmachine.
The surviving Skaven chittered cheered upon seeing Skak's arrival into the fray. The Doomwheel was easily two thirds the size of the construct before him, wood reinforced with crude metal comprising the outer layer of the wheel with a shoddily crafted metal cage constructed within the wheel. Layers of spikes tipped with large chunks of warpstone adorned the sides and front of the warmachine. The center stripe of the outer wheel featured a trench so that any warpstone spikes wouldn't be rolled over.
In stark contrast to the fine craftsmanship of the colossal construct, Skak's Doomwheel appeared to be a patchwork of parts cobbled together with little regard for aesthetic appeal or beauty. The few engravings which were visible on the Doomwheel were basic shapes and phrases which only consisted of obscenities.
A large arc of green lightning struck the construct, which seemed to make the construct stagger, but no visible damage could be seen aside from the scorch marks which had now stained the once-beautiful chestplate. Before the machine had time to recover, Skak had rammed his gargantuan wheel into the construct, knocking it off its feet and into the air. The ancient automaton landed on the ground with a spectacular crash. The machine made its best attempt to right itself but the Doomwheel had not stopped. It swiftly rolled overtop of the machine and each limb that the wheel treaded on snapped and shattered.
The now-helpless machine thrashed desperately as the Doomwheel finally rolled over the sphere within its chest. Under the immense pressure the chamber containing the orb deformed and the machine ceased moving entirely.
Skak scrambled out of his warmachine and viewed the still body of the colossus intently. He let out a triumphant shriek as the few surviving Skaven skittered over to see the defeated enemy.
"Who built-made this!? Smart-wise Skak will learn much-much from dead metal-things, yes-yes!"
Skak had never felt such burning excitement and curiosity since he was but a whelp in Skavenblight. Warmachines which could pilot themselves both excited Skak and made him extremely envious of whomever had created these marvels of magical engineering. He wanted to make one himself. He turned towards the remaining Skaven, noting the many hundreds of reinforcements who had since joined them.
"Fetch-find all within! Bring-take to me and I will gift-give you great-big reward!"