Chapter 4
They marched on until the sun began to retreat below the horizon, Skyseeker always maintaining a healthy distance behind the man-thing, as it gave her enough breathing room to ponder the heavens without worry of an attack. Ever so slowly, those little points of light began to appear in the sky, hundreds upon hundreds, their prettiness never ceasing to amaze her. Why did they only appear at night, and what made them flitter like they did? She needed to know more.
As the sun began to lower, so too did the air temperature, her fur cool to the touch. She preferred this feeling compared to the boiling heat of the day, but the reprieve was short lived. With the rising moon came the chill of the night, the wind taking on a freezing quality as it brushed over the empty landscape, her cloak doing little to shield her from the biting gale. Her fur would keep her from freezing, but before long she was shivering with every step, and she longed for the shelter of a burrow, tree, anything.
Fortunately, the man-thing was also ready to stop for the night, combing the lands in search of a place to rest. After a bit of searching, he found a suitable shelter of overhanging rock, nestled between two of the great hills dotting the plains. The formation of rock formed a very shallow dugout, but at least the slanting rock provided some measure of a roof that should shield them from the wind.
Skyseeker wasn't as pensive about using the man-thing's shelter like last time, as she was certain any flying monsters that lived in this world would be more active at night, where they could swoop down on unsuspecting prey under the cover of darkness. Her quarry did give her an odd look as she came slinking up to the rockface, but he didn't try to chase her off at least.
"You stay on that side of camp," he warned, drawing a line over the ground with a pointed finger. "I want you right where I can see you. Make it so."
She watched curiously as the man-thing began to gather up a couple dozen small rocks, placing them in a circle. When he was done with that, he lifted the dagger from his belt, Skyseeker answering by raising her own weapons in preparation for a fight, the glowing blades driving back the darkness. He gave her an odd look, as though she was being stupid, then bent over, slicing off a tuft of nearby wildgrass and placing it between the rocks.
"What man-thing doing?" she eventually asked, sliding her weapons away when the man-thing did the same.
"Making fire," he explained. "What's it look like?"
"Red, very hot-hot."
"Not literally what's it look like, you idiot." He moved off into the night a ways, stealing glances back at her as he began collecting dead twigs. When he'd gathered a small bundle of them, he returned, dropping them on top of the ring of stones.
"Why make fire?" she asked, jumping back a little when he produced two pieces of stone.
"Not everyone's a rodent covered in fur, gotta keep warm somehow." He began striking the stones together, and after a couple of attempts, there was a spark, the twigs slowly beginning to smoke.
"Man-thing has fur!" she said, jabbing a claw at the top of his head, where it was crowned in dusky strands of fur, each one long enough to reach his shoulders.
"That's hair," he explained. "I swear, I've met street urchins smarter than you."
"If Skyseeker is stupid," she began. "then man-thing is stupid-er! Lost fight to me-me, only let you live because you beg-begged!"
"Perhaps," he said. "but then who ended up running away with their tail literally between their legs?"
"Man-thing cheated! Said no tricks, then tricked!"
"Thought a Skaven of all people would appreciate a bit of deception," he smirked, spreading his pack out and sitting down on it. "But if you're so bitter about it, we can finish what we started, just say the word."
"Tempting," she grumbled, her tail slapping at the ground behind her. "Ask later, after nap-nap."
She turned away, stuffing herself into the wedge of rock at the base of their sloping shelter, resting her head on her forearm. She closed her eyes, but sleep never came easy on an empty stomach, and Skyseeker had eaten nothing all day save for the strip of meat the man-thing had given her earlier. As if on cue, the smells of food leaking from his pack made themselves known to her nostrils, her mouth watering as she remembered the odd taste of salt and meat. If she wanted to survive this journey across these plains, she had no choice but to indulge the man-thing and his schemes…
"Ask question, do offer-deal again," she mumbled, the man-thing turning his gaze from the fire to her.
"What are you on about, rodent?"
"Ask question, and give food-meat," she elaborated. Was the man-thing mentally impaired? He seemed to forget everything in no small amount of time.
"What's the point?" he asked, raising his hands towards the flames. "Said so yourself that you lied last time."
"Won't speak-talk lies," she added, grinding her teeth together. "Give question now! Bones sucking against skin, yes-yes."
"Oh, very well," the man-thing replied, his reluctance as palpable as the smell of food. "Here's something that's been bothering me. When we fought, you spared my life after disarming me, when any other Skaven would have cut me down without a second thought. Why is that?"
"Need four-leg-thing for journey-mission," she explained. "Need man-thing to teach Skyseeker how to tame, can't teach if dead-slain. How many-many times must I say-say?"
"I gathered that much," he continued, holding a hand out. "But I don't understand why. What's with you and making deals and pacts?"
"Better get lots-many treats for all these stupid questions," Skyseeker mumbled under her breath, glancing up at the man-thing. "Ran trade-store in Skavenblight, made many deals. Self taught!"
"Truly?" he asked, blinking as though he'd never heard of the concept. "What would rats sell to each other? Besides scraps of carrion for trash, that is."
"Many things!" Skyseeker explained, propping herself up on her elbows, glad to be talking about something exciting for a change. "Weapons and wargear, surface-dweller shiny-things, accessories. Plunder from rubbish piles make us much profits!"
"What currency do you Skaven use?" he asked, turning so that he was properly facing her. "Gold?"
"Stupid man-thing, gold worthless scrap! Warpstone greatest value!" she proudly announced. "Can spend, melt, shoot, and eat precious Warpstone! Man-thing not know food until it eat-taste Warpstone! Mm-mm!" She licked her teeth as she reminisced about its taste. It had been so long since she'd consumed refined warp-power, perhaps that was what she needed to complete this mission.
"You eat your money?" the man-thing asked. "That… can't be healthy, not for you or your economy."
"Warpstone very nutritious!" she said, wagging a claw at the ignorant man-thing. "Pivotal for diet!"
"So you ran this store, did you?" he asked, steering the conversation back on topic. "All by yourself?"
"Three others!" she explained, holding up four fingers. "two plundered trash pits for trinkets, one protect-guard shop. I took charge of deal-making. Failed only nine times before first bargaining!" she added, puffing her chest out.
"You seem rather fond of this shop," he noted, no doubt seeing the wide smile splitting her muzzle.
"Made first enemies trading Warpstone," she said, staring wistfully into the distance. "much better than skulking warrens. Got to scheme and stab all day! Good times…"
"This mission must be pretty important, then," he added, Skyseeker turning her head to glare at him. "You gave up the life of a clerk to become a scout? Sounds like quite the leap, if it's true that is."
"Shop not there anymore," she explained. "Guard wanted all Warpstone for himself. Tried to kill-slay us one day, so I set shop on fire and lock him in! Not many bargains after that," she added, her head drooping.
"I'd imagine not," the man-thing replied. "Here," he added, a chunk of meat landing in front of her. "Not sure if you're telling the truth, but you at least answered my question."
"Man-thing ask a thousand questions!" Skyseeker pouted. "Should give a thousand treats, not ONE!"
"I'll give you two," he replied.
"Three, and no tiny-small pieces!"
"Perhaps you weren't lying after all," he chuckled. He tossed her another two slices of meat, Skyseeker gobbling them up before he changed his mind. The man-thing seemed susceptible to persistence, that was good to know. She'd need to find all his weaknesses when he decided to break their truce.
"What about man-thing?" Skyseeker asked between mouthfuls. "Did it always ride four-leg-things into Skaven?"
He considered her question for a few moments, prodding the flames with a stick as she watched him impatiently. "I was a farmhand for most of my younger years," he explained. "Tilled these lands till I was of age, then signed on with one of the mercenary bands."
"Man-thing lies," Skyseeker accused. "Can't fool Skyseeker! It is not local-thing!"
"Yeah? How'd you figure that?"
"Look at it!" she answered, daring to skitter a little closer to him. She began listing off her reasons, pointing at various parts of his body as she did. "Man-thing skin is pink, Tilee-place man-things skin darker. Man-thing hair is dusty-sand colour, not like Tilee-man-things. Speech-talk sound different too! You as different as an Eshin from a Moulder!"
He probably didn't know what an Eshin or Moulder was, but her words drove home the point of his alienness to the man-things she'd seen so far.
"Alright, alright, I'll admit I'm not a Tilean," he relented, Skyseeker clenching her fists in victory. "I'm from Reikland, a place far to the north of here, beyond the mountains." He pointed back towards the edge of the plains, where the distant mountaintops lined the horizon.
"Man-thing make journey of its own?" she wondered. "Must come here for special reason. What else is man-thing hiding?" She knew better than anyone that the length of a journey reflected the importance of a task, and if the man-thing had come from over the mountains…
"Tell you what," he began, interrupting her train of thought. "I'll give you my reasons, if you give me yours. How's that for a bargain?"
"Bad bargain!" she replied, shaking her head and making her hood flutter. "My Lord put great trust in me-me, no betrayal!"
"Then, we are just two simple foreigners in these lands," he said, spreading his hands out wide. "Let's leave it at that, shall we?"
Skyseeker crossed her arms, moving her head in a way that wasn't quite a nod, but not quite a shake either. He was picking and prodding her for information, while avoiding giving up any details about himself. Just as she was, the sneaky creature. She'd have to be careful she didn't start lagging behind in this little game they were playing.
"I'm turning in for the night," he announced, settling in on his side, his metal armour reflecting the firelight. "I trust there won't be any sneaking around this time? You've been fed, and we've still got a deal, correct?"
"Yes-Yes…" she muttered, her eyes flicking to his pistol as he placed it beside him.
"Good, cause if you place a finger on me or my stuff…"
He left the rest of the threat implied, narrowing his eyes at her before closing them altogether. After returning his stare, Skyseeker shuffled back to her nook, squeezing herself into the craggy rock until she was comfortable. Resting with a man-thing so close was unnerving, but if she had to pick sleeping near a man-thing, or sleeping near a burrow full of depraved Skryre clanrats, she'd chose the former every time.
-xXx-
"This place suck-stinks!" Skyseeker whined, dragging her feet over another hill, the thirteenth one she and the man-thing had crossed since this morning. While she still lagged behind the man-thing, she decided to close in a little more today, if only so she could voice her complaints to him. "No sound, no things! Just stupid grass stuff!"
"What's the matter with you? Aside from being a Skaven, of course," the man-thing asked, shielding his eyes as he looked back at her. He had donned his helmet, the one with the ornate red plumes, but even his visor couldn't fully him from the harsh sunlight. "Tilea is quite a serene place, if a bit humid."
"Humid!" she echoed, wiping her brow with a paw. Her sweat cascaded over the lenses of her goggles, making her vision fill up with smudges when she rubbed them clean. "Melting into boiling puddle back here-here."
"How'd you think I feel, carrying this suit around?" he asked, each step chased by the clacking of armour.
Man-thing feel like big stupid idiot, she thought, covering her mouth to stifle a chuckle.
"But I'll agree with you on the heat," he continued. "At least back in the Empire you could walk about in your armour without sweating bullets."
"This… Empire," she began, the word sounding unnatural on her tongue. "'Reikyland', yes-yes? It as hot and boring and Tilee-place?"
"Reikland," he corrected. "And no it's not, I'd much prefer my homeland over Tilea any day." He paused at the top of the ridge, staring wistfully into the distance. "The grass there is a shade of green like no other, the land so rich and fertile that the fields of flowers never seem to end. Then you have the many rivers snaking through the foothills, the towering oaks that make up the Reikwald forest… it is a beautiful place."
"Beautifully boring place!" Skyseeker said, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "Give me deep-dark burrow, much more nice-nice than smelly flowers."
"Do you even know what a flower is?" He glanced over his shoulder, the two exchanging blank looks. "Thought not, considering you hail from a place literally called Skavenblight."
He pressed on down the hill, Skyseeker following. At least the downhill parts were easier than the uphill ones, but the journey still remained hot and boring, and it was many long hours later until Skyseeker finally noticed a landmark in the distance, something finally helping to break up the monotonous landscape. Using the zooming function on her goggles, she paused at the next incline, getting a better look at it. She could see the roofs of structures over the next hill, the slanted shelters made from a patchwork of stone tiles, the overhangs supported by wooden poles, the terrain blocking her view from anything lower. She focused on the hillside next, spotting a sprawling carpet of big, spindly plants stretching across the fields far to the left and right, each one as tall as the man-thing, and looking about as dry as her parched throat.
"What that thing?" she demanded, gesturing towards the buildings with a claw. The man-thing followed her claw, shielding his eyes as he peered into the glare.
"Hm, might be a settlement. How'd you spot that so fast?"
"Skyseeker see all!" she replied cryptically, tapping her left eye with a finger.
"Oh, your goggles have some sort of built-in telescope, do they?"
Curses, the man-thing had made her unintentionally point right at her sneaky gadget, his schemes were becoming more dangerous by the minute.
"No they don't! Stupid man-thing," she muttered, quickly snapping her attention back to the structures. "Why make settlement in hot-place?"
"How should I know? As good a place to stop and rest as any." He made to start walking towards it, but Skyseeker bounded ahead of him, spreading her arms out wide to block his path.
"Wait-Wait! What if other stupid man-things there?"
"That's a very likely assessment," he replied, crossing his arms. "What of it?"
"Skyseeker can't fight off whole settlement! We avoid man-things. Much safer, yes-yes."
"We?" he scoffed. "This isn't a shared decision, rat, we're not companions. You," he added, gesturing a gauntlet at her. "are a straggler and a burden. You're free to go around if you want, but I'm heading in. Good chance to restock on supplies."
"Food?" she asked, tilting her head eagerly.
"I… probably shouldn't have said that," he sighed, Skyseeker rushing after him as he brushed passed her, the two trudging down the steep hill. "You sure you want to come with?" he asked. "Tilea's known for its famous rat-catchers, I hear their men can smell a rodent from a league off. Bit of a strange skill, but your aroma's not exactly subtle."
"Skyseeker beat Reikyland man-thing," she said. "Can beat catcher easy-peasy!"
"If you say so."
-xXx-
The closer they got to the structures, the more her worries about encountering more man-things seemed in vain. These humans loved their walls and right angles, so when Skyseeker began to see crumbled masonry and shattered wooden logs, the slanted roofs of the settlement barely kept aloft by a few stubborn support beams, the more sure she was that the area had been cleared out.
There were only a handful of buildings making up the settlement, the structures clustered together on a relatively flat plateau near the hill's peak, surrounded on all sides by dried up pastures, filled in with more of those dead plant-things she'd spotted with her goggles. The plants were arranged in a grid pattern, the space between wide enough that she and the man-thing could walk side by side (Skyseeker opting to lag behind at a safe distance all the same). Their arrangement seemed too precise to be natural, Skyseeker using her impeccable deduction skills to theorise the owners of the buildings must have cultivated these plants.
They moved into the strange collection of the decaying plants, like a miniature forest in its own right, Skyseeker stopping to peer up at one. Its trunk was tall and thick, the branching arms winding into the sky, strangely devoid of any leaves. The same could be said for the rest of the odd plants, their roots overgrown with tufts of wildgrass the colour of gold. Only the weeds seemed to be clinging to life, sprouting out of cracks in the spaces between the gridded plants, making what had once been paths uneven and overgrown.
"What are these dead-things?" she asked the man-thing, the armoured creature lifting the branch of another plant as he passed it.
"Look like olive trees to me."
"Olive?"
"A fruit. Groves like these would thrive in this hot climate, Tilea's probably full of them."
"Not so thrivey now-now," she remarked, seeing drooping branches and wilted bark everywhere she looked. One of the olive trees stood out from the others, this one appearing as though it had been caught in a ratling gun crossfire, all its branches severed off, the trunk bending towards the ground as though a great force had sat atop it. Whoever was in charge of tending them had done a poor job with that particular plant.
They proceeded deeper into the grove, dried twigs crunching beneath her bare feet. The olive trees were tens of rows deep, and it took them a few minutes to reach the settlement proper. There were five buildings in all, each of a different size and shape, arranged in a half circle, with one sitting in their centre.
This latter structure was the most elaborate out of all of them, or at least, it would be if it wasn't so run down. It was two levels high, the stone walls baked bone-white, columns of bricks supporting the sections of the building that overhung the porches. Small windows protected by shutters broke up the masonry in places, little potted plants draping their leaves over the sills from just inside. The owners probably put them there to add some colour, but now the flora was as wilted as the groves, the nearby stonework stained with mould.
She'd seen the angular roof before, the orange tiles constrasting against the white facades, but what she hadn't seen from the distance was the gaping hole on the lefthand side of the building. A section of the tiles had caved in, along with the corner wall, the interior filled in with an avalanche of rubble. The damage was confined to that one section alone, as though someone had shot a cannon at the building and then promptly stopped.
"No man-things here," Skyseeker said, the tension in her chest abating somewhat.
"You don't think?" the man-thing asked. She didn't know how to respond to the question, so she took a chance and just nodded, her answer apparently amusing the man-thing. "Abandoned only recently, I'd wager. Groves haven't completely wilted away, mortar in the walls is still holding. Wonder what happened."
"Man-things got sick-tired of hot-hot heat," Skyseeker guessed, watching her quarry move up to the door of the building. Hanging up the entrance was a sign, attached to the overhang by a chain, but half of it was missing, as though someone had taken a weeping blade to the steel.
"Maybe, or someone attacked them," he muttered, gesturing up at the collapsed roof, Skyseeker admitting he had a point. She watched as he gave the door a tap with his armoured foot, the frame swinging inward with a loud creak. He produced his handgun, stepping through the threshold with the weapon raised, Skyseeker hurrying after him. Purely because being inside felt safer to her, and not because the grove was creeping her out or anything of the like.
They emerged into a strange room full of odd contraptions, with wires running across the length of the ceiling, dozens of implements dangling from the threads. There was a device not unlike a warpstone forge in one corner, flanked by countertops that were overflowing with strange, circular implements with nozzles and handles. Liquid containers of some kind? Sunshine bled in through a filthy window to the right, illuminating the scene, hundreds of little specks of dust occupying the stretching ray of light.
There was another door built into the wall to one side, the man-thing walking over and pulling the handle. Inside was a shallow space lined of shelves, with leather bags ranging from the size of her torso to her paw resting upon them.
"That food?" she asked, peering around his hip curiously.
"In a sense," he answered, lifting one of the smaller bags. To her horror, he upended the little pouch, a grainy, white substance falling to the floor. "Nothing but salt and flour in here. Don't eat it," he warned, Skyseeker pausing with her tongue pressed against the pad of her finger. "Not unless you want to die of dehydration. Besides, it's been sitting here in the heat for who knows how long, doubt even your stomach couldn't handle rancid flour."
"Why stupid man-things store not-food?" she asked, the man-thing moving over to one of the counters, lifting the lid of a pot and peering inside.
"Those are raw ingredients," he explained. "we use them to make bread, or to preserve food. Whoever drove these people out of here took the rest. Might have been Skaven. Oh, but, there's no rat droppings, couldn't have been your kind."
"No warp-burns on walls either," she added. "ratling guns always miss-miss."
He gave her a questioning look, then shrugged, moving into one of the adjacent rooms. When it was clear the whole place had been picked over, they retreated back outside, the man-thing leading the way over to one of the other buildings. This one was in an even worse state of disrepair. The entire eastern wall had caved in, as though a warp-bomb had been detonated right beside it. The structure was built in the vague shape of an oval, thick brambles coursing up the first few layers brickwork like wooden fingers, the structure capped with a domed roof, or at least three quarters of a roof. It was larger than the previous building, but not nearly as elaborate, no windows or attempted decorations at all, it looked rather functional.
"Someone really wanted to get into the mill," the man-thing murmured, pacing in front of the giant breach, the interior obstructed by the mound of rubble.
"Mill?" she repeated. It seemed every other thing he said was some new word.
"Big house-sized tool farmsteaders use to process their harvests. You want food, this'll be the place to look, though the damage to this wall here is troubling."
"Too hungry to be troubled," Skyseeker said, dashing in front of the man-thing, gripping the loose stones for purchase as she scaled the obstruction. A few tumbles later, and she was inside. The first thing she noticed was the smell, a sour and rancid stench that made her nose sting and her throat burn. She'd smelled a lot of putrid things in her life, but this one was easily the most intense, Skyseeker gagging into her paw as though she'd just caught the plague.
"What's going on in there?" she heard the man-thing ask, the creature appearing at the top of the rubble a moment later. She didn't need to answer him, the stench hitting him like a slap to the face, the man-thing waving his gauntlets to try and dissipate the stench.
Covering her face with her cloak, she examined the interior once she was confident she wouldn't vomit. There were giant barrels stacked up against the curved walls, one of them toppled over thanks to the cascading rubble, most of it submerged beneath the loose bricks. Each one was large enough she could have fit inside one with room to spare.
In the centre of the room was a strange, flat object made from smoothed stone. Like the building, it was circular, with a small hole in its middle with a depth of maybe the length of her paw, its purpose unknown. The edges of the unknown device tapered upwards, forming a small wall maybe a foot high.
"Olive press," the man-thing said, following her gaze. "We use them to make olive oil. Missing a few parts missing though, probably somewhere underneath all this rubble."
She pointed to the barrels, asking about them. "Not actually barrels," he explained. "Those're vats, full of vinegar by the smell. Might be some preserved olives inside if we're-"
Skyseeker had already climbed up the nearest vat before he'd finished, her nails digging into the panels for purchase. When she'd reached the top, she looked around for some sort of lever to pry the lid off, spending all of three seconds before she got impatient. She produced one of her weeping blades, slicing a hole into the wood, the material providing little resistance to the magical blade. When she sawed out a perfect circle, the piece of wood fell into the vat with a loud splash, Skyseeker pressing an eye into the cutout. The vat looked like it was filled to the brim with water, but there were things bobbing on the surface. They were small, bulbous things, their texture fleshy and green, each one about the size of her thumb.
She reached a cupped hand through the cutout, scooping out some of the strange objects and lifting them to her face. She tested their firmness, finding them squishy and soft, each one sporting a small orange dot on their outsides. These must be olives.
"Can I eat-eat these?" she asked, holding her paw out so the man-thing could see. He simply shrugged at her, so Skyseeker made her own informed choice and shoved them all into her mouth in one quick go, letting her metabolism answer instead.
As her teeth sliced through the fleshy bulbs, an oddly pleasant taste made her eyes light up behind her goggles. She immediately fished inside the vat for more, licking her muzzle between each bite as she satisfied her gluttony.
"May I have one?" the man-thing asked, Skyseeker shooting him a dirty look, their eyes level now that she was on top of the vat.
"Mine!" she snarled, hugging the wood possessively. "I discover settlement! Man-thing go find own olives."
He rolled his eyes at her, turning round and beginning to slide back down the rubble. "Fine. Don't choke on them, rodent."
He slipped out of her sight, his footsteps fading as he moved to presumably explore the other buildings. She considered chasing after him, but that would mean leaving her new prize unattended, and right now filling herself to bursting was all she could care about.
At one point during her feast, she thought she heard something, a strange noise whispering on the air. It was quiet, diluted by distance, but it was enough to give Skyseeker pause, because aside from the wind and the man-thing's blathering, she'd heard nothing all day. It was almost be described as a whistle, or a chirp, reaching a high pitch before fading in the space of a heartbeat.
She strained her hearing, but it did not repeat, her ears only catching the sound of footsteps, their clunky owner unmistakable. She immediately forgot about the odd sound as the man-thing appeared over the rise of rubble a while later, the creature giving her a cold look before sitting down on a slanted piece of debris, rubbing his legs between the plates of his sabatons.
"Man-thing find stuff?" she asked, not really interested in his answer but asking all the same.
"Yep, got a whole basket of olives, fresh as can be."
She narrowed her eyes. She could see no basket, nor any olives. Perhaps he was lying in order to save face, how amusing.
"Man-thing know plenty-lots about olive-place," she began, popping another of the fruits into her mouth. "How can it, if it's not from Tilee-place?"
"We've got hundreds of farmsteads like these where I come from," he explained, adjusting himself on his improvised seat. "I told you before that I was a farmhand when I was a lad, and that was partially true. I tended the family vineyard, picking and crushing grapes. They're like olives but red," he explained before she could ask.
"Why crush grape?" she wondered. "Taste better-good?"
"The juice from a grape is a staple in fine wine," he said. "Which is a drink that both tastes, and sells, very well. We have entire market squares dedicated to the trading of wine, the stalls stretching well into the neighbouring streets."
She image piqued her interest. She remembered brandishing the wares of her store in the streets of Skavenblight, her threats and promises attracting all sorts of undesirable rats. What might the man-thing equivalent look like?
"Wine worth lot-lots?" she asked, the man-thing nodding. "Then why don't Tillee-place make wine? Why olives?"
"The climes here in Tilea aren't that suited to cultivating grapes. The hot air and the hard ground call for hardier crops, but Riekland on the other hand… the moderated temperatures are perfect for exotic agriculture. Fields of grapes lay everywhere, as sprawling as these hills. But it's not just the farmlands that thrive," he added. "The very land itself is blessed, the trees so extravagant they shift colours between the seasons. The people take to bringing part of the land into their very homes, lining their gardens and windows with vibrant flowers… I daresay even the elves of Athel Loren are envious of our prosperous lands."
"Man-thing exaggerates," Skyseeker spat. He was describing a land so impossibly varied, so perfect, it had to be a lie.
"You're a Skaven, the most colour you've probably seen was in a mushroom cave," he replied. "but it's true. They do not call Reikland the heart of the Empire for nothing."
"If Reikyland so pretty," she said, licking her fingers clean. "Then why man-thing leave it? Rich Empire-thing need defending, yes?"
"The Empire's list of enemies is a long one, true," he replied, glancing at his feet. Her questions seemed to have made him tense. "I'd turn around and go home right now if I could, but…"
"But what-what?" she asked, realising she'd stopped eating and was leaning over the barrel intently.
His gaze lingered on her as he considered his answer, Skyseeker slowly bringing up an olive and holding it out in offering. He chuckled at that, reaching down to take a swig from his canteen, finally making his decision.
"Suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you this much. My Emperor, he… outcast me. I'm no longer welcome in the homeland. For now," he added, masking his prior gloom behind a stoic expression. "The Empire faces enemies on all fronts, from both within and without, and I will be the one to lift the darkness that veils the land. And when I do, I will be welcomed back into the fold with open arms, my position restored, my honour returned back to me tenfold."
"How will man-thing do that?" she pressed.
"Ah, but I thought we agreed to keep our secrets to ourselves?"
She grumbled something about he was being a stupid man-thing under her breath, fixing him with a cold look. "Fine-fine," she said. "Will man-thing tell me-me what it did to be outcast? It kill-kill wrong leader and take place?"
"What? Is that something Skaven do?" he asked, looking up at her in wonder.
Skyseeker nodded. "Yes-Yes! Clan Mors rats need Lord's favour for promotion, but for other Great Clan rats, only one way to top-top." She produced a dagger and drew it slowly over her throat, careful not to accidently slice herself on the corrosive edge.
"Well, we're a little more sophisticated than that," he said. "We gain rank through notoriety, and prestige. Impress the man above you enough, and you'll eventually get the attention of the right people."
"That how Skyseeker got mission!" she exclaimed. It seemed man-things weren't as barbaric she first thought. "So what-what man-thing do?" she asked again. "Tell me what force-make man-thing to flee to Tilee-place."
"I did not flee to anywhere," he replied, gesturing over at her. "Let's just say I made one too many mistakes, misplaced my faith, and leave it at that."
"Man-thing won't tell me-me?" she asked, the man-thing shrugging in response. "Not even for olive?"
"Not even for twenty olives," he replied, Skyseeker gasping at the revelation. "We shouldn't linger here," he continued, brushing the dust off his legs as he stood. "Whoever sacked this place may still be around. Grab what you can and follow me. Make it so."
She leaned into the vat to fill her pockets with olives first, the man-thing not bothering to wait for her as he slid back down the rubble. Most of her pouches were already occupied with weapons, so she stuffed what she could grab into her mouth, then simply hugged a bundle of the fruits to her chest, using part of her cloak like a bag to help carry them.
Snickering at her fresh bounty, she climbed her way out of the mill, spotting the man-thing moving through the grove on the far side of the settlement. When she made to follow him, she noticed something odd on the ground nearby, pausing her skittering to bend over and look. The grass was scored here, two thin, parallel lines drawing cracks through the dirt, each a hands width apart. They were long, as well, more than the length of her tail by her guess. At first she thought they were furrows left by a wagon wheel, but the marks were far too deep for that, their size and shape reminding her of claw marks.
She snacked on an olive as she contemplated the odd sight, drawing an imaginary line between the scored earth and the ruined structures. A correlation, perhaps? She couldn't put her staggering detective skills to work, however, the man-thing's steps were already fading into the distance, and though she'd never admit it aloud, she felt marginally safer in his company. He was still a threat, of course, but a knowledgeable one – by man-thing standards – and she needed to know more about him, and what secrets he was hiding from her.
-xXx-
"Just how can you eat so much?" the man-thing asked, leaning on his knees as he passed between two boulders. "We've barely gone two hills from the grove and you've already eaten your entire haul."
"Easier to move-carry inside belly than out," Skyseeker explained, licking her paws clean with her long tongue. The fluid they'd been stored in, vinegar as her quarry called it, left a sour taste on her mouth, but it was better than filling her lungs with dry air. "Man-thing just jealous it not find-discover mill first."
"You'll be jealous soon enough, foul-smelling varmint, when you realise you should have rationed."
"Man-thing would have steal-stealed!" she said, pointing an accusing finger up at him. "Saw it watching, saw it scheming! Had to act!"
"Stealing from you would be like stealing form a starved wolf. What reason would I have anyway? I've already got supplies, for myself may I add."
"Who know what man-thing thinking? Food stolen from me-me before, not making mistake-error twice!"
"Well I hope it was worth it, that tower might be the last structure we'll see for a while," he said, gesturing with his pistol further up the incline. He'd drawn his weapon ever since departing the settlement, no doubt expecting to run into whoever had sacked the olive grove.
She followed his gun to what he was pointing at – a tall, thin structure jutting from the peak of the hill they were currently scaling. It was made from clay bricks, far larger and sturdier compared to those in the settlement, the structure standing strong against the elements. Its flat roof was ringed by a low stone wall, Skyseeker able to pick out a chair resting at one of the corners. A banner hung from one side of the building, a pair of blue swords trimmed into the cloth, the symbol reminding her of the ones she saw at the man-thing camp.
Her quarry had decided to move in the watchtower's direction, claiming they could 'get their bearings' once there, whatever that meant. Skyseeker was more interest in what sorts of things were left behind.
The man-thing was taking too long, so she scurried onto all fours, overtaking him, begging the Horned Rat that the tower had not been pillaged like the settlement had. "You're not taking all the food for yourself this time!" the man-thing called, stumbling along after her. "You hear me?"
Skyseeker ignored him, increasing her pace despite the man-thing being far too clumsy to up with her. There was an archway cut into the foot of the watchtower, Skyseeker pausing in the frame to look inside. A wooden staircase spiralled its way up the curved walls to the roof, the handrail reinforced with iron brackets, the whole contraption supported by the brick wall alone.
In the middle of the cobbled stone floor was a trapdoor, the latching mechanism secured by a brass padlock, Skyseeker peering down at it with a raised brow. What could be down there? A secret cache of olives, it had to be! She didn't waste time looking for a key, slicing the latch apart with a quick sweep of a weeping blade, the lock breaking in twain. It took most of her body weight to open the hatch, but she eventually succeeded, flipping the trapdoor over, where it bounced against the far wall with a puff of dust, the latches rattling as they settled.
Through the hatch was a short step ladder lead down into a dank cellar, Skyseeker placing her paws on the edge, leaning her face through the gap, her upside-down view swivelling as she examined the underground area. The space inside was perfectly square, the walls made from the same bricks as the watchtower, the rom between them barely wide and tall enough for a man-thing to stand in.
She took a sniff of the musty air, immediately sneezing it back out. This would be a perfect place for a secret supply cache, but she smelled only dust, saw nothing more than an empty shelf in one corner and a barrel full of rusty weapons in another. What kind of slave builds a watchtower with no stash? She'll never understand these surface-dwellers.
"Find anything?" the man-thing called from behind, Skyseeker pulling herself upright as he walked up to the archway. "I swear if I see you stuffing your face, I'm going to start shooting…"
"Nothing but smelly weapons," she said, turning to face him. "Why lock trappy-door if no- Eeeek! Behind you-you!"
"Seriously? You pick now ofall times to pull that trick on me? I should…"
His words faltered as a piercing screech echoed across the plains, the same as the one she'd heard back in the grove, but far louder. The man-thing eyes went wide as he turned on the spot, following her pointed finger, or perhaps just following the noise.
There was something high in the sky, cruising just beneath the cloud layer, a little dark dot that swayed from side to side. It could have been just her eyes playing tricks, but she could swear it was getting bigger with every passing second.
"By Sigmar…" the man-thing murmured, his voice wavering. The dot was starting to take shape, Skyseeker spotting a pair of flapping wings stretching out of the sides of an elongated figure. There was no tricks, it was lowering to the ground with every beat of its massive wings, and it was coming in their direction.
"Inside!" the man-thing snapped. Before Skyseeker could react, he kicked her square in the chest, his metal boot thwacking off the bandolier of knives strapped to her sternum.
She slammed face-first into the opened trap door, glued to its slanted surface for a second before she tumbled through the hatch proper. She tried to grab the ladder to brace herself, but she missed, tumbling down into the cellar like a sack of grain.
She bounced once as she descended to the paved floor, her limbs crumpled around her torso in unnatural directions, her tail draped over the rise of her hip like a dead snake. Her neck twisted with an audible crack as she watched the man-thig follow her down, reaching over his head to pull on the trapdoor. Darkness shrouded the cellar for a moment before the man-thing held the trapdoor up a little with his hand, leaving a tiny sliver through which he peeked out of.
"Stupid man-thing!" she snarled, sliding a weeping blade out of her sheath as she pulled herself from the ground. "Hit me-me, will it? Now my turn!"
"You were in the way," he shot back. "Now be silent, or it'll hear us!"
"I'll be silent… WHEN YOU DIE-DEAD!" she growled, baring her teeth. "Man-thing not hit Skyseeker and live!"
She jabbed her blade towards his chest, the glowing edge reflecting off his metal suit, but her paw was suddenly swatted aside, and before she could even blink, she was staring down the barrel of his handgun.
"Finally giving me a reason, rodent?" he asked, his gauntlet creaking as he applied pressure on the trigger. "Just when we're starting to get acquainted? How-"
He was interrupted by a monumental quake of the earth, wisps of dust falling from the ceiling as something thundered to the ground outside the tower. Whatever it was, it was big enough to block out the light almost completely…
The creature that had descended from the skies repeated its call, and though this would be the third instance for Skyseeker, she had not been able to appreciate its volume until nw. The sound was so raw and powerful she felt it more in her lungs than heard it in her ears, the bestial screech igniting a primal fear she did not know existed inside her.
Any courage she'd built up over the last few days drained out of her, not unlike how the fear-musk was squirting out of her glands in that moment. Forget the man-thing's gun, she'd never felt more terrified in her life, and she promptly displayed as much with her own verbal call.
"Eeeek!" she screamed, her weeping blade falling from her trembling fingers. There was a sudden pressure on her muzzle, her eyes bugging out as the man-thing reached out and seized her mouth in his hand, her cry cutting off with a choking sound.
She would have killed him then and there for laying a finger on her, but in her haste to stab him she'd forgotten her blade was currently on the floor, and all she could do was slap at his metal chest plate in vain. She paused in her flailing as he brought her closer, her fur bristling as their foreheads practically touched. He lifted his gun, Skyseeker tracking it with her eyes as he pressed the barrel against his lips – a universal sign that one should be quiet.
The screeching creature ended its call, as though it was taking the man-thing's advice, Skyseeker hearing the discernible snap of a beak from beyond the hatch. As one, she and the man-thing slowly turned their heads upwards, the chains linked to the trapdoor jingling as the monster out there began to move. More dust fell from the ceiling, the quaking ground growing more violent as the creature drew closer to the tower.
There was no outside light slipping in through the hatch now, the monster must be stood right in the tower doorframe, Skyseeker's ears twitching as she heard a raspy inhale. She didn't dare even blink for fear of being discovered, a flimsy wooden square the only thing hiding them from the monster. The man-thing was no less anxious, a grim expression on his face as he stared at the hatch, clamping down on her mouth all the while.
That sound of a clicking beak again, coming from right above the trapdoor. For a horrible second she thought the hatch would flip open, and she'd be pulled into the maw of whatever beast was out there. More dust rained, Skyseeker closing her eyes and bracing herself, but the hatch didn't move. Instead she felt the ground shake again, the quaking subsiding as the creature backed off from the tower, allowing a little bit of sunlight to flood back into the cellar. Was it gone?
For a few minutes neither she or the man-thing dared to move, until the latter decided to lean closer, peeing into the outside with narrowed eyes. When he wasn't immediately devoured by the beast, Skyseeker deemed it safe enough to resume batting at his hand still holding onto her muzzle, voicing her complaints through groans and squeaks.
"Not a sound," he warned, his voice a whisper. "quiet as a… well, rat. Make it so, or we're dead."
Skyseeker nodded as much as his tight grip would allow. After a moment, he slowly released her, Skyseeker shoving him away when she was free, finally able to breath in man-thing-free air.
"Smelly, stupid man-thing!" she hissed, waving a hand before her nose. "No touch-touch! Take fingers for recompense!"
"What, was I supposed to let your screaming give us away?"
"Not screaming for fear!" she complained, hoping he couldn't detect her musk filling the cellar. "Screaming for… pain-hurt! Man-thing attacked me, broke deal-pact!"
"Uh-huh. That why you wailed like a girl? Thought Master Assassins were supposed to be quiet?"
"How quiet will man-thing be with blade in chest?" she quipped back, reaching for her other dagger. Their argument reached an abrupt end as the monster outside took another rumbling step, the man-thing all but ignoring her as he returned to looking out the hatch. Not wanting to be left out, Skyseeker clambered up the first rung of the step ladder, pawing at the man-things face to make room. His skin was oddly smooth and fleshy, the pads of her fingers gliding across his cheeks with almost no resistance. He was warm, too, his heat contrasting pleasantly against the softness of his body. How strange.
Realising she was touching this creature for a little too long, she gave his face a push with her palm, the man-thing grumbling as she peered through the gap in the hatch. Her curiosity of what the beast was had overpowered her fear of it, but when she looked outside, she began to wish it hadn't.
Through the tower archway stood two pairs of digitigrade legs, covered in a luscious coat feathers the colour of the sunset. Each leg ended in four black toes that more resembled meat hooks than anything, with a fifth, shorter toe protruding from above the heel. Each foot was as large as Skyseeker's torso, splayed out to distribute its mass over a wide area, and a lot of mass there was indeed. There was more strength in each leg than in Skyseeker's entire body, the muscles flowing beneath the feathery coat like a liquid as its owner shifted on the spot.
The legs trailed up into sets of backwards-facing knees, then to thighs as tall as the man-thing. For all the monster's brawn, there was something elegant about the way it carried itself, planting its feet almost daintily upon the ground, its smooth movements contrasting against the colossal weight it carried around.
As it turned, something long and thin swept from right to left, Skyseeker nearly dropping off the ladder in surprise. It was a tail, its length rivalling that of the breadth of a doomwheel, as thick around as her arm at its tip. Like the legs, it was covered in fine feathers, each the size of her claws, the tip of it fluffed with a dark bulb of fur.
Aside from this appendage, Skyseeker could see no more of the beast beyond its steely thighs, and somehow that was worse than actually witnessing the creature. A creature of that size could swallow her whole if it was so inclined.
She winced away as the beast suddenly lifted its front paws off the ground, a great gust of air roiling her fur. There was a flap of monumental wings, and suddenly the monster's hook-like toes left the ground, the creature screeching from somewhere high above.
She and the man-thing slowly turned to look at each other, only now realising how close their faces were. She dropped off the ladder with a sound of disgust, the man-thing stepping away at the same time.
"W-What by the Horned Rat's tail, was that?" Skyseeker demanded, careful not to raise her voice too much.
"A griffin," the man-thing answered, sparing a glance at the hatch. "and a pretty damned big one at that. Guess that explains what happened to the olive grove."
"Man-thing know much-much for foreigner," she mused.
"We've got griffins back in the Empire," he explained. "Majestic beasts, they are. Seeing a wild one is a rare, though dangerous honour."
"Dumb feather-thing didn't catch me-me!" she proclaimed.
"Would have if I hadn't been here," he replied. "you froze up like a statue. Gryphon almost had you for supper."
"N-No!" she stuttered. "Was thinking of escape plan-scheme, needed to focus!"
He rolled his eyes, Skyseeker picking up her dropped dagger. He was right, of course, she'd been paralyzed the moment she'd laid eyes on the griffin, and she'd have been doomed had the man-thing not acted. No matter how hard she tried to spin it, his role in saving her was undeniable. What was the word Skaven used to voice gratitude? Perhaps she should use it now…
"Th… Thhhhaaaaa… thank-thanks," she said, trying to say it as quickly as possible so he didn't catch it. "Man-thing still stupid," she added. "could have let feather-thing eat me-me."
"The thought crossed my mind," he admitted. "but, then I would be stuck in here, listening to it devour you for who knows how's long. Don't have the stomach for that."
"Logical! But still stupid."
"You're very welcome."
She slotted her weapon away, confusion overwhelming her. She couldn't remember the last time a Skaven had shown concern for her safety, partly because it had never happened. From the day she was born, her life revolved around backstabbing and navigating the lowest echelons of Skaven society, staying one step ahead of her enemies. Sparing any adversary, regardless of threat level, was just unheard of. This surface-world was completely backwards, in more ways than one.
She shook her head clear of these thoughts, turning to the matter at hand. "Well?" she asked. "We leaving now?"
"Not just yet," he said, holding up a hand. "Griffin's probably circling the area, as hungry as it as confused. We should wait a while and let it move on, just in case."
"Hrm, good idea-plan, yes-yes." She plopped herself down on the hard floor, hugging her knees to her chest. The man-thing had just enough room to stand in as he walked over to the opposite end of the cellar, lowering himself with a little more grace than she.
Skyseeker drummed her fingers on the wall, boredom quickly settling in as the silence reigned. Every now and then she felt the man-thing glance in her direction, the fact she couldn't slink out of sight troubling her after so long staying at his rear. The fact they were sharing the confined space wasn't helping either, maybe she should risk it and hide up in the tower proper.
"Got some interesting blades there, rat," the man-thing noted. She had a feeling he was trying to break the silence. "Where did you get them?"
"Gift from greatest Lord!" she chittered, clutching their handles just in case he tried to steal them. "Tailored with Warpstone, sharp as knife, regal! Just like Skyseeker!"
"Tell me about this Lord," he said. "He is like an Emperor, I take it?"
"Lord Gnawdwell greatest and bestest of all rats," she chimed, a toothy smile spreading her muzzle as she pictured the Lord's face. "War-King Tyrant-General biggest, strongest rat on Council. He sees all, knows more, but secret strength lies in patience! Gnawdwell look-see bigger picture, not like stupid other Council members."
"He really calls himself Tyrant-General?" he asked, blinking in confusion.
"Yes! Just told man-thing!"
"Sounds like he has a lot of faith in you," he said, looking her up and down. "This all-knowing Lord sent you, alone, into the big bad world with nothing but two daggers."
The way he emphasised Lord came off as insincere, but she doubted he'd be speaking like that if the Lord was standing next to him. "Goggles too! Don't forget them!" she added, pointing at her face. "Gnawdwell not have faith, stupid man-thing. Great Lord have foresight, insight, sight-sight. When he chose Skyseeker, he saw not breeder, but assassin, perfect for mission!"
"Breeder?" he asked. "What's that?"
It took a moment for Skyseeker to process the question. "Breeder… me? Man-things not have breeders?"
"Well, we have people who breed dogs, cattle, things like that."
"No! Disgusting! Speak-talk of man-thing things! Skaven need breeders to make rats for Horned One's War-Schemes! This not same for man-things?"
"Oh, you mean females?" he asked. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"
Skyseeker drove a palm into her face. "Man-thing stupidity grows like rash!"
"So you're saying this Lord looked past you being a female? Mustn't happen often, considering that was the first time I saw a female Skaven when you jumped me and my horse the other day.
"Wait-Wait!" she snapped. "Man-thing knew I was breeder? Explain!"
"W-Well, look at you!" he said, holding his arms out at her. "Barring a few absolute major details, you and human women are… similar."
"Man-thing should stop looking at me-me and look more at weeping blades!" she snarled, baring her teeth. "Man-thing shouldn't know breeder secret!"
"Maybe if you put some clothes on, it wouldn't be so obvious!"
"Clothes too cumbersome! Make Skyseeker slow and heavy. Leave stupid clothes to clumsy man-thing."
He pinched the bridge of his flat nose and sighed, Skyseeker's scowl slowly receding in the resulting silence. He should end his life before he told someone that she was a breeder, but he seemed unusually reserved about the discovery. A clanrat would be foaming at the mouth the second they'd found her out, but not him. Why was that?
"What man-thing breeders look like?" she asked, leaning closer.
"We just call them women, or ladies, what have you," he explained, using his hands to illustrate his next points. "Generally they're smaller than us males, physically weaker. You'll often find them in the supporting side of the Empire, merchants and diplomats, housekeepers, things like that."
"And breeding stock, yes-yes?"
"B-Breeding stock? Gods, no, we're not savages!"
"Man-thing ladies not breed-breed?"
"Certainly they can, yes, some more than others, certainly, but they do other things besides that."
"Curious! Like what?"
"Pretty much everything besides serving on the front, that duty is left to men alone. Although," he added, tilting his head in thought. "I heard of an exception once. In the village of Gluckshalt, a banner of archers was reinforced by a few dozen women who knew how to notch a bow. Drove a raiding party of bandits off."
Her jaw dropped. Archer breeders? So openly talked about? Here she was, skulking the surface-world undercover (at least she thought she was undercover), while man-thing breeders strut around, fighting and living like their male counterparts? She watched the man-things face, searching for a lie, but he seemed to be being truthful.
"Look like your ratbrain's working overtime over there," the man-thing noted. "Imagine it's quite a different lifestyle compared to Skaven women."
"Breeders good-good for one thing only," she said, leaning back against the wall. "When female clanrat found, it is taken to breeding pits to become broodmother, or gifted to Warlord. Spend life… breeding."
"But not you?"
"Horned Rat watches over me-me," she said. "born in breeding pit, but escaped before discovery by ratwives. Ratwives always searching for breeder pups. Gave them slip!"
"Sounds like you were destined to be an assassin then," he said. "So no one's ever found you out? Since this Gnawdwell at least?"
"Many tried, but many-er failed! Stabbed rats that find my breeder-musk, embarrassed those that didn't! Skryre Warlock, with all his Warpstone power, most recently bamboozled!" She snickered.
"Well," he said. "I suppose you do look as decrepit and abhorrent as any male Skaven, you could fool anyone."
Her tail flicked back and forth across the floor. "Thank you, man-thing!" she said, the gratitude easier to voice this time around. "Not complimented since Great Lord's briefing."
"Wasn't meant to be one," he said, turning his nose up, or maybe he was just looking up at the hatch. It turned out to be the latter when the man-thing got to his feet, reaching up to push the trapdoor open.
"Think we've tarried long enough," he announced. "We should get moving, while we still have light."
Skyseeker nodded, gesturing for him to proceed, following him up the ladder.
