Marjan, Ickert and the two Humans didn't have to search long. A few dozen yards away, they spotted a Dwarven building with a sign representing a beer barrel. Child cries and moaning were escaping through one of the windows, and three Feral Skaven armed with spears guarded the door. Only the fastest had time to abandon his two comrades and flee, while the other two succumbed to the furious assaults of the Vereinbarung fighters.
Marjan opened the door of the brewery wide, and found herself facing a hallway. On her left, there was a door, from behind which came the sobs. In front of her, another door, more solid, in wood reinforced with fittings.
- You three, go left, I feel it's up to me to go straight.
- As you wish, my Lady.
Still with his sword in hand, Ickert bravely strode to the left door, and lowered the handle without hesitation. The door didn't open, however.
- Damn it! Locked!
A single kick was needed to solve the problem. The door came off its hinges with a sharp creak. The Black Skaven and his Human companions entered, and contemplated a sorry sight.
The Feral Skaven had taken advantage of the layout of the place to improvise two cages. The room should normally contain kegs of beer stored on shelves arranged on the walls, with a central partition that split this room in two. But there was only a single barrel lying around in a corner, gutted. All the others had already been consumed by the inhabitants of the Under-Empire, who had also probably used the wood for their own constructions. Both spaces were protected by thick bars. In the left cell, there were around twenty Skaven, all female, the oldest of whom must be a few summers old. All were curled up at the bottom of their cage, and they were shaking with terror. Straw had been spread all over the surface of the cell on the right, and the youngest Skaven, barely a few months old, were lying here and there, moaning and crying. They were more numerous, thirty of both genders. The Feral Skaven had taken care of plug the gaps between the bars with awkwardly nailed boards to prevent any escape.
Ickert spotted the key to the cages hanging from a small hook on the wall just to his left. He quickly turned it in the lock.
- Come on, you're free! Come!
- Pankraz!
A little ratgirl came out of the group and threw herself into Ickert's arms.
- Elsie! Taal be praised, you're alive! Are you fine?
- Yes, I am.
The tall Black Skaven knelt at Elsie's height. Her eyes shone with tears of joy.
- I knew you would come get me! cried the little ratgirl.
- I'm not alone, we're a whole army, just for you! Quick, let's get out of this prison!
Ickert tossed the keys to Stromberg, who was able to open the other door. As he rattled the lock, he wondered:
- How did the Feral Skaven feed them?
- Quite simple, answered the other Human.
Ganz, the third to volunteer, was a tall, dark-haired man with a small moustache. He had already participated in a few Harvests, and therefore knew the methods of the inhabitants of the Under-Empire.
- They probably have a couple of mature breeders able to give them milk in another building nearby.
- So we'll have to search and find them, maybe there are babies with?
- Possible. Hey, Ickert, we shall need some hands!
Ickert joined them, and scratched his head. He spoke to the little Skaven children.
- Girls, you can help us: you have to carry all these babies to the exit. Everyone can take a baby, being careful. The older ones can take two
- Why don't you want to take some? one of the little prisoners lisped.
- Because we have to keep our hands free to defend you, Ickert replied. And then, besides, I'm too clumsy for that, whereas you, you will be very careful.
The girls wisely obeyed – luckily there were enough of them to pick up all the infants. Elsie pointed to one of them.
- Look, Pankraz, it's Bassilus!
- Take him, Elsie. His parents are worried sick, you'll reassure them soon.
- What about Mikkel?
- He…
The huge Black Skaven restrained himself with extreme accuracy. It was not the right time to explain in detail what the Black Guard had understood in Friedrichsdorf. He just said:
- Your mom will be very proud of you when she finds you with Bassilus. You come?
- Yes!
- Wait! exclaimed another little Skaven girl. We must save the other ones!
- Other ones? What other ones?
- The ones the awful fella took!
Ickert felt a cold sweat creep up his neck again.
- What "awful fella"?
Marjan walked through the reinforced door which, oddly, wasn't locked. But she sensed the worst awaited her in this direction. Indeed, she had barely crossed the threshold when a very disturbing odour infected her nostrils. Blood, of course, but something else; something artificial, irritating, like medication. A staircase led to the lower floor of the building. Determined to face anything, the tall blonde woman raised her axe and descended the steps.
She came to a kind of antechamber lit by oil lanterns fixed to the wall. The smell was so strong she felt her nose run. In front of her, there was still a door. The Human clenched her jaw when she saw a green light coming through the gap between the door and the floor. And on her left, a large cage with iron bars was placed on the floor. Marjan approached, and her eyebrows rose in surprise.
She saw in the cage a Skaven girl, sitting at the bottom, who looked at her with eyes blank with terror. Marjan noticed the poor girl was completely naked, which allowed her to spot under her light brown coat the characteristic forms of femininity which were beginning to appear.
This little one is on the cusp of adolescence, which means… By Ulric's fangs!
- You! What's your name? she asked.
The little Skaven, petrified in fear, articulated painfully:
- B… Branwen, my Lady.
- Right. My name is Marjan. Don't be afraid, Branwen, I came to save you. I'll find the key to this cage and bring you home. But first, lie down on the ground, close your eyes, and cover your ears, I'll tell you when you can get up.
Both relieved and terrified, Branwen obeyed without question. Marjan then turned towards the back door, crept forward, lowered the handle very slowly, and opened the door a crack. When she stuck her head through the opening, her blood froze, then flared at the sight of an abominable spectacle.
This small, low-ceilinged room contained a few devices for distilling beer. But someone had reconditioned them for a completely different use. This someone was an old, hunchbacked Feral Skaven with long, thin limbs, draped in a long coat stolen from some Human citizen, which chuckled and sneered as it fiddled with the controls of a brass panel. It lowered the levers, pressed the buttons of this machine surmounted by a two-foot high glass reservoir, and the whole room was lit up by the greenish glow emitted by the liquid inside, doubtless a decoction made from warpstone. Copper pipes connected this machine to the base of an easel on which was lying another Skaven girl, with light grey fur, and of a maturity comparable to Branwen's.
The unfortunate ratgirl was attached, naked, to the instrument of torture by bracelets which held her ankles and wrists. Flexible, dried animal guts tubes came out of the base and were planted in a kind of metal belt which encircled the waist of the girl, and in a heavy necklace. Marjan was all too familiar with this type of device. The pipes injected through the shackles the warpstone potion directly into her stomach and throat. In doing so, the fertility of her young organism was frightfully multiplied, to the detriment of any physiological harmony.
Such was the fate reserved for females of spawning age. For the Feral Skaven, nothing could be more normal.
For the tall blonde woman, however, it was a different story.
Very slowly, she entered the room, and raised her axe. However, she didn't want to ambush this Feral Skaven who was obviously too thin and old to fight. So she ordered in Queekish:
- Do not move.
The Feral Skaven, surprised, stopped short. Without turning around, it asked in a quavering voice:
- Who dares to disturb-interrupt my work?
- "Work"? Marjan repeated. Is it the way you call your torture session?
- I am a Master Mutator, I execute-obey the orders of the Grey Seer. And I don't like intruders-intruders!
Abruptly, the Master Mutator swivelled towards the woman, and in the movement, it parted the tails of its coat. A flayed dog head grafted onto its chest barked at her, and its long neck stretched mind-blowingly in her direction. Marjan leapt to the side and narrowly avoided the canine head, which nearly grabbed her by the throat. Without wasting a second, she grabbed the handle of her axe with both hands, and brought it down on the horrible creature. The skull burst, blood spurted, the Feral Skaven yelped in frustration. The dog's head shook in all directions, so hard that Marjan dropped her weapon. She backed away, and quickly looked for something to help her out of this delicate situation. She then spotted a table near her on which was laid out a whole battery of instruments, including long knives. Without hesitation, she took a knife in each hand, then threw herself on the beast. She slashed at the neck with cries of rage that drowned out the creature's squeals of pain. In a few seconds, the neck retracted, and the dog's head resumed its place in the middle of the torso, then died.
- I won't be caught again, growled Marjan to herself.
- You filthy thing-woman! the Master Mutator spat angrily. Do you know what genius invention you've just destroyed-wasted?
- I don't, but I do know you've just made a big mistake.
Her gaze, her voice, her attitude did not leave the slightest room for doubt in the mind of the Feral Skaven on what she was about to do. When she approached it with a determined step, it panicked, and tried to pull the axe still stuck in its second head. Marjan accelerated, and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. She turned it around, smashed its head against the stone wall, and twisted its arm. The Master Mutator screamed in pain as its bones cracked.
- Tell me, what will I have to explain-tell them?
- What? Who?
- Her parents. Do you know what "parents" mean?
The Master Mutator snorted.
- No?
- Her father, her mother, her family, her friends, the people who love her, and who care about her… So many words you don't know-understand, do you?
She peeled it off the wall and slammed it to the floor.
- What words shall I have to use-say to describe to them what you've done to her, you degenerate loony?
Without waiting for an answer, she stuck one of her knives in its back, then the second, then she snatched the first knife to drive it between its ribs, then she did the same with the second. She shredded the Master Mutator this way for a long time, and stopped when there was no longer any reaction to her blows.
She pulled out the key to the cage from one of the Feral Skaven's pockets, snatched her axe from the skinned dog head, and approached the easel. She bit her lip when she saw the state of the young ratgirl. Her stomach was already horribly swollen because of the ointments and warpstone fluids, and green veins jutted here and there through the grey fur on her neck, arms, and thighs. Her mouth parted, she was unrestrainedly drooling, and her eyes were nothing but bovine passivity.
Without hoping for any coherent answer, the tall blond Human asked:
- Hey, little one… are you fine?
The young, tortured girl only let out a vague chuckle, and saliva bubbles popped on her lips.
- Do you understand when I'm talking to you?
The young Skaven girl gurgled again in the same way. Marjan then pinched her arm, and only got another similar babble. She was definitively convinced, there was nothing more to be done. Warpstone had already inflicted on this unfortunate female its incurable alterations, and had condemned her to be a mindless breeder for the marauders of the Under-Empire.
There was only one alternative left to this disastrous destiny.
Marjan felt her heart sink at the thought of what she was going to do. Alas, it was a lesser evil.
- I already hate what I'm going to do, child, but either it's this… or a long and excruciating death. I hope you understand.
She searched desperately in the ratgirl's passive gaze for any approval, which she couldn't find. She picked up one of the knives, returned to the easel, leaned gently towards the victim. She fumbled for the feeding collar, undid the small hook that held it closed, then tore off the two tubes. The device fell to the floor with a loud clang. Marjan shuddered when she saw two metal studs directly grafted under the chin of the prisoner. Finally, she delicately placed her hand on the muzzle of the ratgirl, and whispered:
- May Ulric forgive me in your name, may Morr grant you good rest.
She took a deep breath, then snapped the young Skaven's head back, and slit her throat from side to side. She leapt back to avoid getting wet by the tainted blood gushing out of the gaping wound. The unfortunate prisoner shook herself, the bracelets that held her clinked loudly, and the creaking of the wood of the easel mingled with a succession of gurgles and hoarse gasps.
Marjan refrained from taking her eyes off this appalling spectacle.
After a fortunately very short time, but which had seemed like an eternity for the young Human, the little prisoner ceased to move, and her head fell to the side. Silence returned to the laboratory.
Marjan felt her face burn with anger and grief. The Feral Skaven and their dreadful science had pushed her to commit what she considered to be an unforgivable crime. She was tempted to smash the whole machine, but barely restrained herself. Scattering warpstone essence on the floor might not have been the best idea in the world. She leaned against the wall, let herself slide until she felt the touch of the wood under her buttocks, clutched her head in both hands, and stopped holding back her tears.
- Lady Marjan?
Marjan looked up and saw Ganz who was staring at her, worrying.
- Yeah, yeah. I'm coming.
- You were right, my Lady. The girls and the little ones are up there. Ickert and Stromberg are rounding them up.
- Let's join them.
The man's gaze then fell upon the poor little victim.
- Taal's beard!
He fell to his knees, and vomited the contents of his stomach. Marjan got to her feet, and helped him to do the same.
- That's what we fight for, Soldier: so that this never happens to anyone again.
- I… understand, my Lady.
- You're lucky. I've been trying to understand for years.
Ganz shook his head. The two humans left the laboratory.
- Carry on, soldier, I'll join you in a minute.
- Why so, my… Ah!
Too eager to join the tall Human woman, Ganz hadn't noticed the cage with the other little prisoner. This one, still motionless, was shaking like a leaf, her hands firmly clasped over her ears. The soldier resumed his walk, leaving the two women alone.
Marjan approached the cage, and gently tapped the bars with the key.
- It's over, you can open your eyes.
Branwen raised her head, and looked around her. The tall blonde woman did her best to smile at him as she unlocked the cage door.
- This Master Mutator will never hurt anyone again. Get up, we're leaving.
- And… Angela? What happened to her?
Marjan bit her lip.
- Sorry I couldn't save her, Branwen. The poison had already mistreated her body too much.
The little ratgirl swallowed her saliva, tears streaming from her eyes.
- Was she your friend?
- No… I didn't know her before I was locked up with her.
- Don't think about it anymore, you couldn't do anything. Hold on…
Marjan took off her tunic and gave it to the little Skaven girl.
- Here, put this on, I still have my undershirt.
Indeed, the tall blonde woman used to wear an undergarment to stabilize her chest. Branwen put on the tunic with a bit of disgust.
- It's unclean, but it'll be better than nothing. Now, get the hell out of this cesspool!
They both left the distillery, and found Ickert, Stromberg and Ganz standing guard, and all the other children.
- The boys are a little further over there, with the other soldiers, explained the tall blonde woman to the little Skaven.
- We'll have to take care of the breeders, there may be babies with her.
- You're right, Private Ganz, but we'll do that at the end of the battle. Go!
And the group made their way to the pit. Marjan stayed behind, her gun still raised, to make sure no one was following them. When the last children had disappeared into the tunnel, she went to join them, when she stopped.
A strange noise had just irritated her hearing.
The confrontation against the Master Mutator and Angela's poor end had finished pissing off Marjan, who was in a foul mood. Her eyes swirled in all directions, on the lookout for any Feral Skaven to top.
Suddenly, she saw something move, a few yards away.
It was the wretched, decrepit slave, wrapped in bandages, watching her.
The pitiful creature, aware of having been spotted, spun on its heels and leapt onto its hind legs, fleeing down the tunnel as fast as its meagre strength would allow.
You're right, run! Go get skewered somewhere else!
- Let's keep going, Soldiers! Don't give up now!
Sigmund was doing everything to appear to be in control of the situation and his emotions, but it was very difficult for him. The Gutter Runners had wreaked havoc on their ranks, and if they had finally won this scuffle, the price had been high. Most of the horse riders had been killed, and the infantry were untrained for mounted combat. Sigmund had ordered the last four Dwarves workers still alive to guard the horses in front of the desecrated temple of Valaya. Skaven and Humans were now all on foot. Sigmund didn't want to risk being alone up front with Okapia. Moreover, the ceiling was irregular in these caverns, and a rider was not necessarily advantaged.
As they continued to progress from one tunnel to another, they came to a large room where Feral Skaven and Chaos Warriors were tearing each other apart. The marauders of Khorne were fewer in number, but they fought fiercely. The hulking Lennart Fireblood, in particular, was making the Clanrats twirl.
- What do we do, Captain? Himmelstoss asked.
- Let them fight each other, and find the Grey Seer.
A swordswoman raised her weapon toward one of the exits below.
- Captain, look!
Young Steiner made out Karhi's white and horned.
- Well spotted, Soldier! Let's go get him!
The opening was located at a good distance, and the fighters would have to cross a long cave of several tens of yards to catch up with the White Skaven. The path was sloping, and studded with multiple stalagmites. Fighting a way to the target wasn't going to be so easy. Sigmund looked better, and grumbled in surprise.
The Grey Seer was surrounded by three rather unique characters.
The first was a very tall brown Feral Skaven, wearing leather armour, and a long tool that Sigmund recognized immediately: a things-catcher, the favourite weapon of the Skaven of Clan Moulder. It was a long wooden pole, to the end of which was fixed a large iron claw studded with nails. The things-catcher could break a limb or a trunk if its user pushed hard enough on the handle.
The second, smaller, was wrapped in a black cape. It seemed very thin, and agile. Three swords swirled between its hands and the tip of its tail. The Black Skaven also distinguished a green glow under the hood of its black cape.
These two Skaven had eyes that shone with an intense green glow. Sigmund had never seen this, and he sensed the worst. He would have to be careful with those two! On the other hand, he couldn't see the face of the third one. Indeed, this one wore a helmet that fully covered its head, was much smaller, and wrapped in a cloak that made it look at least as fat as the Grey Seer.
Karhi himself seemed to be in some sort of trance. Hands on his temples, his eyes closed, his lips moving, as if he was mumbling some magic spell.
Sigmund reacted immediately.
Oh no, lad, not that kind of thing with me!
He took out in one movement the repeating pistol he had kept in his belt, aimed at the White Skaven, and pulled the trigger three times. Despite the distance, one of the bullets scratched Karhi's left arm. The latter yelped in pain. He spat out a few orders for the tall Feral Skaven with the things-catcher, then grabbed the shoulder of the small Feral Skaven wearing the black cloak, and rushed into the tunnel, followed by the fat masked Skaven. The Feral Skaven with the things-catcher ran in the opposite direction, skirting the wall to avoid the general melee, and quickly disappeared through another hole.
- Let's go, let's get them!
And the soldiers of Vereinbarung charged with renewed vigour.
- Where the heck is the exit?
Gabriel's patience was wearing thin. Ordinarily, he didn't have a great sense of direction, but in the middle of a battle in a Dwarven city, it was much worse. With the troop movements, he had to hide in a corner, then walk down a random corridor, run up a stair, go down another… and the most frustrating part were the road signs. He could see arrows everywhere, but all directions were written in Khazalid. He yelped in frustration at his misunderstanding of the Dwarvish language.
Fortunately, Emil remained silent. He didn't seem very reassured, however, and he clung to his improvised guardian angel. Gabriel muttered:
- We'll be fine, Emil, I promise you, we'll be fine...
Nothing was less certain. He continued down the hallway, which bent to the left, when queekish growls sounded from beyond the bend. He spotted a dark reinforcement in the wall on his right, and jumped to hide in it. He crouched down, lowered his head, and covered Emil's eyes with his free hand. He gritted his teeth as he heard the footsteps of several Feral Skaven approaching.
Three gigantic figures passed in front of him, without noticing him, three black-coated Skaven, heavily armed and protected. Gabriel immediately recognized the elite soldiers of the Under-Empire without ever having seen them before.
Stormvermin!
Nothing like the Black Guards he had seen a couple of times, let alone his beloved older brother. Those, covered with scars, with their fur damaged by the blows, reeked of carrion, and inspired him with fear and disgust.
Hope they don't smell my odour, or his!
Luckily for him, the three Stormvermin were too focused on the current battle. Gabriel heard their footsteps and their grunts recede, again and again. Only a few more seconds, and...
Alas, Emil suddenly began to cry again, more intensely and longer.
The result was not long in coming. The three Black Skaven stopped short, and spun together. Realizing he was about to be spotted, Gabriel leapt out of hiding to escape. The Stormvermin squeaked imprecations, brandished their weapons, and set off after him.
Gabriel felt his intestines knot. He wasn't going to be able to run faster than them! It was then that he remembered a small detail: before leaving the Brave Griffin, he had planned a little something for this kind of situation. He pulled a one inch in diameter marble from his waistcoat pocket and threw it in the direction of the Stormvermin. The tiny glass globe broke on the rock, and immediately a thick yellow smoke rose in a hiss. Surprised, the three Black Skaven stopped their run, not soon enough; they found themselves coughing, spitting and sneezing amid the stinging fumes.
Gabriel reached a new opening, and stopped. He had just tumbled into the great hall where the Chaos Warriors were fighting against the Feral Skaven, while Humans bypassed this melee to descend even lower. Gabriel recognized the uniform of the Vereinbarung soldiers. At the head of this regiment, he could make out his brother who twirled his trusty Heart of Unicorn sword.
Siggy!
For a brief moment, Gabriel was tempted to reach him as quickly as possible, and put himself under his protection. But he abandoned this idea. First, he would have to dive right into the middle of the fight for that, then he might get in his way.
Keep it up, Siggy! I'll find another way!
He looked around, when his eyes focused on a huge, terrifying colossus in red armour not far from him. It crushed the Feral Skaven all around him with bestial roars. Each hit caused a Clan Warrior to fly in a spray of blood. The little light grey Skaven was as if hypnotized by the spectacle, as much fascinated as terrified by the formidable power of the Chaos Warrior. Suddenly, the fighter turned directly towards him, and after a slight surprised start, stretched his finger in his direction.
Gabriel immediately turned around and rushed down the hall. He let out a frightened little cry at the sight of the three Stormvermin who had resumed their pursuit once they emerged from the cloud of smoke. Quickly, he rushed back to the great hall where the general melee was taking place. The warrior in red armour was only a few steps away from him! He threw himself to his left and ran to the next nearest opening. The three Stormvermin were stopped by Lennart Fireblood's mace.
Back in a tunnel, Gabriel ran breathlessly for a long minute. He imagined himself being chased by the huge, red-armoured warrior, but he didn't hear heavy footsteps behind him. He glanced behind him, and saw nothing. Only then did he stop and catch his breath. Emil continued to cry, so much so that the young ratboy felt his ears bleed.
- Emil, I can't take it anymore! Please calm down!
A waste of time, the little Skaven toddler didn't diminish his whimpers. Exhausted, Gabriel leaned against the wall, right next to a curtain. Suddenly, the curtain parted, revealing a Feral Skaven, not particularly tall or muscular, but vicious looking. The Clanrat barked a few words in Queekish, and grabbed Gabriel by the arm he was carrying Emil with. It was the wrong thing for the little light grey Skaven.
- No! Go away, you filthy monster!
An idea then sparked in his mind. He quickly reached into his pocket, and pulled out his set of lock-picking tools. He spotted in a blink the longest and slender one, and planted it with all his might in the arm of the Feral Skaven. The latter squealed in surprise and pain, and let go of its prey. Gabriel took the opportunity to scamper off as fast as he could. While running, a thought almost occulted the perpetual cries of the little White Skaven:
I've hurt a grown-up! I've hurt an adult!
Finally, Sigmund reached the door through which the Grey Seer had escaped. It had taken him about a minute to cross the great hall. At first, the Feral Skaven hadn't paid attention to them, too busy fighting against the Khorne marauders. But some had finally diverted their attention from the Chaotese to attack the soldiers of Vereinbarung.
Himmelstoss had then taken the initiative to counter this new assault with the other fighters, in order to allow Sigmund to catch up with the fugitive. Captain Steiner had managed to break through the enemy line, and was now in the hallway where the Grey Seer had escaped.
- Karhi! Stop running away, you coward, and own up to your actions!
As he continued to run, Sigmund made out a figure to the side. It was the fat, masked Skaven, stuck on the wall, motionless. Without slowing down, the Black Skaven swung a Heart of Unicorn's pommel blow into the helmet of the individual on his way.
- And you, let me pass!
This made a bell sound, and Fershitt Melted Mouth fell to the ground, stunned by the shock.
Gabriel wasn't sure he had taken the right direction. The tunnel had split into two lanes, he had chosen the right one. However, since he had crossed this intersection, he had wondered several times if his instinct had been correct?
The answer imposed itself when he found himself facing a wall. No door, no hole, no ladder or trapdoor, it was just a dead end.
- By Verena's scale, that's not fair! exclaimed the little ratman, who wanted to drown out Emil's squealing, but couldn't.
Gabriel spun around and started back the other way, hoping to reach the intersection, when he stopped, petrified with anguish.
A tall Feral Skaven was walking towards him, slowly, with a metronome-like regular step. It wore a threadbare leather vest, and brandished a long wooden pole at the end of which snapped a large claw fitted with nails. The most frightening was its gaze; the Feral Skaven's eyes shone with a green glow as bewildering as the light from the warpstone rocks. In fact, unlike all the Feral Skaven, this one wasn't sneering, didn't jump from one foot to the other. It seemed to be in a daze, a kind of trance, but under this apparent calm, Gabriel guessed reflexes and physical strength out of the ordinary.
At first he had the instinct to step back, but soon found himself with his back to the wall.
All was lost. Gabriel couldn't bypass the Skaven unless he distracted it by leaving the baby behind, which he categorically refused to do. And he had nothing left in his pockets to save him. He glanced at Emil, who was still gasping. Tears of despair slipped down his cheeks. He hugged him, gently, and closed his eyes.
The Feral Skaven, still looking impassive, gathered momentum, and was about to bring down its instrument on his prey, when a violent shock to its head knocked it over on its side, with a terrible crack.
- Poor larva! How dare you attack such unworthy adversaries!
Gabriel's eyes widened a he heard the insult, and his heart twitched to bursting. Lennart Fireblood kicked the still warm corpse. Then he turned his head towards the young light grey Skaven.
- What are you doing here?
In response, Gabriel urinated in terror and soiled his pants. The huge Chaos Warrior pointed his blood-stained mace at the young Skaven's toes, and his bass voice rumbled:
- You look good now! Come on, you're hurting me!
Gabriel didn't answer. Every muscle in his body was tense to breaking point. He gurgled more than he breathed. He turned to keep Emil behind him to protect him, and mumbled:
- Don't kill us… please!
- What, you really think I'm going to waste my time with you? Poor little fool! Khorne doesn't need your skull, or that brat's. You sadden me! Here, I'll accompany you to the surface! You will go where you want.
- Wh… wh… what?
- Have I been unclear? I don't kill snappers! Only cowards and scoundrels hit children. Now stop arguing, and follow me!
And the Chaos Warrior returned to the great hall where the fight between the three battalions was still raging. Gabriel hesitated, however, and kept his distance. When they reached the threshold, Lennart Fireblood raised his mace.
- Attention, Warriors of Khorne! There are too many of them, we fall back! Follow me, and protect these little ones!
The marauders obeyed and broke off the fight against the Feral Skaven. These, however, did not pursue the Chaotese, as Vereinbarung's soldiers continued to weaken them.
Gabriel, surrounded by the hideous, with barbaric features, slaves of Chaos, was not far off.
I'm in the middle of a nightmare! All this is not real, I will wake up in my bed, in Steinerburg!
Emil's moans, still in his arms, quickly reminded him otherwise. He then thought he heard neighing.
Horses?
Carried away in the middle of the twelve remaining Chaos Warriors, he had no time to see the sequence of events.