Two Sides of the Warp Token

by SCBM

A champion of the Skaven and an Imperial mercenary are drawn to a resurgence of power in the land of the Tomb Kings. Can they find common ground, or will their duty to their people drive a wedge between them? (F!Skaven x M!Human)

7. Chapter 7

-xXx-

"Rick-rod never told me how it has ship in place full of enemies," Skyseeker began, speaking over the noisy crickets infesting the wildgrass surrounding her, the annoying insects evading her sight even with the goggles' help.

"You remember how I said I was imprisoned, just before my exile?" he replied, everything from his neck down obscured by the campfire between them. "Well, I would have rotted away in the dungeons if not for an old acquaintance of mine who'd caught wind of my plight."

He stared into the flames, light and shadow highlighting the ridges and bumps in his alien face. Night had come quickly after spending another afternoon traversing the country, with their shadows stretching long behind them.

"Sound like useful ally," she noted.

"He's more than that. Wilfred's a part of the Wizard's Conclave, a druid. Tried teaching me how to wield magic a few times. Failed on every account. My hands were born to hold steel, not staves, that's what he told me. It was I learned of the artifact, or relic as you call it, from him. Told me he sensed it on the winds, or something like that, and managed to strike up a bargain with the Emperor himself. If we could bring it back to the Empire, my position as general, and the people's faith in me, would be restored. Naturally I accepted."

"Didn't you say Empire Lord would take you back when you learnt lesson? Lesson about… leaning things?"

"I… may have twisted the truth a little there," Roderick admitted. "Learning to put the needs of others before my own was actually Wilfred's parting advice, just before I set off for the border of the Empire."

"Still haven't told me how you have ship, Rick-rod."

"Right. Wilfred's idea," he explained. "While I journeyed south, he would stay in the Empire for a time, gathering what support he could for our expedition into the deserts. He would sail south, and reconvene with me Portomaggiore – where you and I are currently heading. I had planned to arrive in the city much sooner, take it easy for a few days, but after the ruckus you Skaven have caused, and that damned mercenary who swindled service out of me, it seems he'll be doing the waiting around."

"Why man-thing walk instead of taking ship?" she asked. "You like killing paw-feet?"

"The Emperor couldn't let me go walking about the land freely, not after promising the people I would be punished. There would have been outcry, not to mention all those looking to put a dagger in my back. The people needed to see my exile firsthand, and thrusting me into the Vaults was the only way to satisfy them."

"This… Fredwil," she began, changing the subject. "He your protector? Parentrat?"

"What?" He blinked, chuckling at her. "No, no, he's not my father, polar opposite in fact. He's more of an old friend, literally and figuratively."

"Polar opposite? Your parentrat isn't old?"

"I mean to say, that my family isn't all that impressed with magic users." She asked him why, the question making him laugh again. "Odd story, that. When I was a boy, this traveller happened across our vineyard one day. He claimed he could make our next harvest the biggest one to date, for only a handful of coins. Business wasn't exactly booming, so father took him up on the offer, thinking it would be a steal. The stranger took out this pouch of dust, sprinkled it on the crops, then told us to wait, beating quite the hasty retreat as he did."

"Then what happened? WAIT! I want to guess! Guess crops died painfully?"

"Nope. In fact, the next yield was the largest my parents had ever seen in their lifetimes. Spent more time harvesting than we did planting. Spirits soared, nobody could believe how lucky we were, at least until the moment I decided to take a bite of one of the grapes."

"Bad?" she asked.

"Lass, it was like chewing into a pair of soiled underpants. The charlatan had been true to his word, but the cost of the bounty was its quality. A more vile berry you could never imagine, I can still taste its putrid vapour even today."

She snickered behind her hand. "How much did deal cost you?"

"More than we'd like to admit. Father had said it was a steal, but technically it was a robbery. To say my family has never been fond of magicians since is an understatement. Perhaps that's why I can't understand magic. Bloodlines, you know?"

She would have liked to meet this charlatan, he seemed as sly as a Skaven, probably was one, only a rat could devise such an ingenious scheme.

"What about you, Sky?" Roderick asked. It took her a moment to understand that he was referring to her. Shorthanding her name seemed like a stupid way of speaking, but she didn't comment on it. "What're your parents like?"

"Not know much about father rat," she said, hugging her knees against her chest. "Only theories. Strongest rats are only ones allowed to breed a breeder. Had theorised it could be Queek himself! Fur as dark as mine-mine!"

"You've never met your father?"

"And never plan to! He'd sell me to warlords for favours if I ever did! That's what-what I'd do!"

"And your mother? Know who she is?"

She clutched at her legs a little tighter. "Mrmm… perhaps."

"Well do you, or not?"

"I… not sure," she answered. "Not know how things in man-thing places work, but breeders spend no time with litterpups. That ratwives job! Ratwives are slaves too weak to serve warlords," she explained.

"I could never imagine a life without knowing who my kin are, it must be terrible."

She wasn't sure how to answer such a remark, so she just shrugged. He caught onto her change of mood, offering her an apology as he dropped the subject. He was getting good at reading her body language, a little too good, perhaps, not that it bothered her very much. Which, ironically, did bother her a lot.

"Well, my turn on watch, isn't it?" he asked, standing up. "Get some sleep, lass, got a long day tomorrow, but hopefully the last one we have to spend in these woods."

"Where you going?" she inquired.

"To fetch some more firewood. Back before you know it, don't worry."

"I won't," she whispered when the man-thing stalked off into the wilderness, Skyseeker settling on her arm as she curled up on herself.

-xXx-

Rough, cold rock.

That was the first sensation she comprehended, how the crumpled stone dug into the soft, underdeveloped flesh on her paws, her fingers wiggling in odd directions as she tried to comprehend the world around her. The lack of a world was a better way to put it, for she was blind, swirling darkness greeting her wherever she flexed her delicate neck.

Warmth, that was the second sensation she recognised, a heat radiating from somewhere to her flank. Driven by pure instinct, she willed her feeble arms in its direction, her belly sliding over that uneven, hard flooring as she crawled. Every pull of her flimsy paws burned her from the inside, but they brought her one inch closer to that promising heat, every next movement a little bit easier than the last.

A muted squeal left her furless muzzle as she stumbled in her quest, the crook of her arm digging into a piece of sharp rock, her weak flesh splitting in a fine, long mark. The sting shooting up her limb was unbearable, but she did not slow down, her instinct to move driving her forward.

Her questing paws soon touched a lump of scraggy hair and skin, and after a bit of exploratory groping, she pulled one rearpaw over it, as mounting the lump was the faster way towards the warmth. She slipped in her attempt, her back compressing against the ground hard, fortunately not cutting herself again in the process. The second try was better, the claws on her feet burying into a crease in the lump for purchase. The obstacle she mounted hissed in response to her intrusion, a sound that sent a chill down her spine. Hesitating in the face of instinct would spell disaster, so she did her best to ignore it, speeding up her climb as she pressed on.

Placing one forearm in front of the other, she struggled her way towards the source of that warmth, until her snout bumped against a sheer wall. She brushed it with her paws, her sense of touch helping to map out a mental image of its shape. It was mostly flawless, the malleable flesh squishing as she pressed her fingers into it, the heat practically baking her paws. She slid a paw to the left, her palm connecting with a flaw in the otherwise smooth wall. It was a protrusion, longer than her biggest finger, pointing out of an orb that served as its base.

Compelled by nothing, she opened her muzzle, her tendons aching as she stretched them to capacity. She leaned over, sealing her fleshy lips over the nodule.

A thick, tasty chemical splashed against the back of her throat, a warble of delight leaving her muzzle as she sucked it down greedily. She could feel the strength in her body grow with every gulp, her fatigue from the crawl giving way to vigour, her aches melting away. Even the muscles in her biceps seemed to expand, though that might have just been her excitement at finally discovering taste getting the better of her…

Blissful growth maintained itself for moments that felt like years, until the lump behind her started to shift, draw closer. It was terribly difficult to peel her muzzle away from the little nodule giving her that magical sustenance, but some part of her mind nagged at her that danger was close, and she willed herself to stop feeding on that oh-so-sweet nectar for just a second.

She may have been blind in that moment, but that didn't mean she couldn't see. As that hiss repeated itself, the noise burning into her mind, the lump closing in coalesced into a wraith of darkness, brought into being by senses other than sight. One end of the lump began to split open, little sharp points forming two twin rows between the parting halves. Before she had the time to count said points, they came down, and spiked straight into her face.

Unable to scream, she was reduced to wailing out a series of muted shrieks, the little stumps that were her forelegs batting helplessly against the lump's clamping jaws. Had she not turned her soft head in the lump's direction, those little teeth would have sliced straight into her throat, rather than pierce into the underdeveloped bone of her tiny skull, missing her eyes by the width of a whisker. She would never stop thanking the part of her that had saved her fur. In fact, she would reward it to the point the warnings would never stop coming, her very first masterful plot.

Her little squeaks were only answered with more pressure from the teeth, her skinless muzzle set alight with raw pain. There were other lumps all around them, but they ignored the commotion, wriggling and fighting for the nodule she had just vacated.

She remembered feeling the little nubs that were her fingers, and the little spiky claws protruding out of them. They reminded her of the teeth currently plunging into her face. Brandishing the claws on her right paw, she swung it in a savage arch, ready to return the favour and cave the lump's skull in.

In her burgeoning lust for vengeance, she did not hit the lump, her fingers falling short as she made contact with the wall, completely forgetting about it in her addled state. Her fingers raked across the pudgy mountain in four distinct lines, warm trickles of fluids splashing against her palm.

Her thin ears twitched as something howled, a scream so powerful and booming that even the lump that was biting her stopped its incessant chewing, mewling just as much as she was as their sensitive ears were tortured.

Whatever was causing the sound was gigantic, and she'd just cut it. Not the best scheme, especially when she was just minutes old.

Impending doom gripped her as she felt a presence larger than the lump appear from above, a blotch of darkness stretching out from the top of the wall. It began to spread apart, five long shapes jutting from the blotch, the shape racing towards the place she and the other lump struggled.

She knew it would be useless to run from that shape bearing down on her, but she went on trying anyway, questing paws struggling to find purchase on the other lumps as she crawled away, face and arms wet with her own blood.

The shape caught her, its span longer than the entire length of her body, darkness cradling her on all sides. She squealed as she was picked off the ground effortlessly, feeling herself travel an incomprehensible height, her tiny form quivering as she wondered what cold doom this giant shape was taking her to.

She felt light touch her clasped eyelids as the shape bloomed open, revealing her to the naked scrutiny of the thing's owner. She could feel it drawing closer, hot breath washing over her small body, soothing the goosebumps that had curdled her naked skin. The sensation would have been rather pleasing under different circumstances.

"Unruly pup," a deep, commanding voice boomed. "Already putting claws to use. You will make a good-good vermin in the Lord's army."

The owner of the voice leered closer, and she scrambled away until her butt hit the curve of her new prison, her stumpy tail squashing against her back. Just like the few moments before the lump had taken a bite out of her face, she sensed more sharp teeth coming close, these ones longer than the length of her entire body. Whoever this speaker was, it would have no trouble devouring her.

She waited for the killing blow, but instead of feeling the sharp stab of a bite, a warm, pliable mass pressed into her front, smearing her in a slimy sheen. The tapered tip started from her belly, trailing up towards her muzzle, cleaning her of the sticky clumps of amniotic fluid glued to her body. She grumbled when the fleshy mass passed over a few pairs of sensitive points on her chest, and the voice faltered as it noticed her discomfort.

"Wait. You are… different."

She felt a pressure fall between her legs, the owner of the voice prodding her in search of something. When it appeared satisified, it resumed its quest in smearing her in warm slaver, covering every inch of her until finally drawing the wet mass over her clamped eyes.

The flesh doted on her sockets, her gelatinous eyes shifting as the voice put pressure on her lids, inadvertently clearing away the drops of blood leaking out of the holes in her snout. The way her eyes seemed to get pushed back into her skull made her squirm in agony, but she would come to learn that pain was the first step on the road to strength, and before long she felt the muscles in her eyelids start to grow, then harden. She willed her eyes to open, first to tiny slits, then to giant orbs of wonder as she took in her first sights of the world.

A giant face filled the forefront of her vision, the end of a long muzzle suspended inches away from hers. She could see monumental walls of rock framing the head far in the backdrop, curving up toward a high ceiling, ominous green light casting the notches of stone into harsh shadow.

There was so much to comprehend, so much she didn't understand, but she found it easier to focus back on the face, a vague sense of recognition calming her racing heart. She looked into the two red orbs it had for eyes, the irises narrowing as the face peered curiously down at her.

"You are like me…" the face crooned, its lips peeling open to expose those teeth she'd sensed before. They were even larger than she'd suspected, hundreds of curving bits of ivory jutting in and around their gums in crude angles. She noted that the shape which she was trapped in was in fact a huge paw, the five fingers curving up and away, the span of the palm easily thrice her size.

She was moved again, but instead of the harsh, quick movements like before, the face treated her like the most delicate thing in the world, curving the fingers so she had little chance of falling.

The owner of the paw pressed her into the nape of its long neck, curling its head around to shield her from the strange sounds and smells of whatever place this was. The gesture surrounded her in a pocket of soft fur, her little paws taking comfort as she rubbed the curious texture between her fingers.

The voice uttered a quiet purr, the sound soothing her as she nuzzled happily against their neck, a sense of safety draping over her shoulders. She didn't know why this voice was taking interest in her, but she wasn't about to pass up the chance to feel so wanted.

"My first prodigy," the voice whispered, each word so deep it made her bones quiver. "Come, you need-need your strength."

She hissed through her underdeveloped teeth as she was pulled out of that little pocket of comfort, but her annoyance soon melted away as the paws cradling her moved lower, a little pink nipple coming into view. She could see her siblings off to the right, squabbling and biting more at each other than the nipples as their instincts began to awaken. The paws shielded her from their sight, keeping her high and away from any further danger they posed to her.

The owner of the paws picked up a grey lump latched to her highest teat, moving the furious little sibling away and placing her in its place. That sweet juice splashed against her tastebuds once more, her stomach grumbling as she suckled and nursed. The paws fawned over her all the while, stroking her back with a claw, cupping her belly from below, her little limbs hanging limply through their massive fingers as she was gently lifted, as though the voice wanted to test her weight, study her anatomy.

"How tiny-small you are," her parentrat mused, and she was certain this was her parentrat, as what other conclusion could she come to? "No need-need to fret, pup, you will grow big-large one day."

She wanted to ask if she would be as big as her one day, but all that came out was a quiet chittering sound, one that her parentrat seemed to take great interest in, craning her long neck over to nuzzle at her small face, replying with a wordless trill.

Her parentrat whispered things into her ears then, things that had diluted over time and had thus slipped from memory. Not all of it had been forgotten, but it always made her feel guilty, realising that for all her ingeniousness, her stupid mind had failed to keep a firm grasp on what her mother had said all those years ago.

"Breeder! Time for-for quota count!"

She paused her ardent sucking at the sudden strange voice, turning her muzzle over her shoulder. Two figures were crossing the rock-strewn floor, dressed in filthy rags. Their bodies were covered in a shabby layer of brown fur, nothing at all like the pristine black coat clinging to her mother's paunchy belly. One of them turned his crooked muzzle in her direction, her view quickly shifting to darkness as her parentrat covered her up in a massive forearm.

With her vision blocked, her world once more became reliant on sound. Crunching gravel grew louder as the pair of ratmen neared, her little heart racing as high-pitched squeaks began to echo across the vast chamber. Their source was unmistakable. She could feel her parent's belly shift as her siblings were plucked from the teats, chittering their displeasure at having their feeding interrupted. One of the rats turned to leave, the crying pups in his arms slowly going quiet as he distanced. Her parentrat made no move to stop him, not even chittering a single word of defiance. Where were they taking her siblings, and would her parentrat give her up next?

"Eleventeen this time, good-good," the rat who had spoken before snickered. "Silence!" he added, one of the pups screeching over his voice. The screech sounded a lot like the pup that had bitten her. "Two score of Warpstone for breeder! Quota going up-up from now on. No slacking!"

"Understanding," her parentrat replied. She could feel her mother's heartbeat pounding through her coat.

The ratman lingered, then began to walk, not away, but towards her parentrat, or breeder as he referred to her. "Wait-Wait! What you-you holding in paws?"

"W-Warpstone," her mother replied, clutching her tighter against her chest.

"What! Not remember you having warpstone yesternight…"

"Spin-rolled down slope. Dropped by careless ratwife, perhaps."

"We not careless rats! Care is middle names! Show me-me!"

Light flooded back into the world as the forearm hiding her lifted away, and she peered up into the dirty face of the ratman, watching his cracked lips peel over his sharp teeth in a creepy smile. His expression shifted as he realised she wasn't warpstone – whatever that was – but a pup, his red eyes narrowing in frustration.

"Breeder try to hide pup?" the ratman asked, turning his muzzle over to her parentrat. "Rulebreaker! No warpstone for you! Gimme pup!"

He reached out his filthy hands, and she tried to burrow herself into her mother's fur, her squeaks of terror muffled as her parent shielded her with two giant arms.

"No!" her mother snapped, holding her out of reach. "Please, not this one. Let me keep-have it."

"Breeder know rules!" the ratman shouted, reaching for the knife stuffed into his loincloth. "Warlords get all pups, no exceptionings! Maybe breeder need another lesson in-"

Her breeder's clenched fist put a stop to his rasping speech, the ratman's neck snapping back at an awkward angle. Her parentrat's movements were so swift for such a massive creature, her mountainous biceps flexing as she decked him across the muzzle.

He crumpled to the rocky ground, the many pups he had tucked under his arms dropping with him. The pink lumps thumped around his twisted limbs hard, but their squeaks and chirps confirmed they hadn't been injured in their fall. She expected her mother to scoop her siblings up, but she instead kept a tight hold on her, clutching her tighter to her neck.

She heard shouting from some far-off place, maybe the other ratman had seen what happened to his companion and was shouting for help. She could hear more chittering rising to greet the panicked calls, but they were quickly muffled as the world seemed to spin, her mother rolling onto her other side.

"I don't want to-to do this," her parentrat said, bundling her against her chest. "but ratwife was right. Can't keep you, little pup."

She had no idea what her words meant at the time, but her tone of voice, and her sorrow expression, gave her all the meaning she needed to understand. She clung to her parentrat's belly harder, fresh tears welling in her pink eyes.

The shouting was closer, louder, her mother peering over a massive shoulder at the shouting rats. It sounded like there more than two this time, and she could have sworn she heard something else as well. Something heavy being dragged across the stones along with the voices, something that made metallic scratches as it caught on the occasional protruding rock.

"I can't keep you, but I can save you," her parentrat whispered. "save you from these pits. Do not come back, little pup. Horned Rat protect you."

Her world flipped end over end, her breeder's fingers loosening their grip on her waist. She tumbled onto sloped land, her delicate hands groping into the silt, her cries turning from grief to pain as sharp rocks dug into her skin.

The gravel began to landslide, carrying her deeper into the earth, the image of her mother slowly shrinking away from atop the crest. She extended a paw out, but her breeder was too far away to touch, her parentrat making no effort to halt her fall.

Movement on the side drew her attention, a ratman identical to the last leaping up onto the mountain of her mother's hip, the sheer size of the breeder only now registering in her infantile mind.

The ratman held up a dagger, the knife glinting in the ominous green light as he brought it down, slicing her parentrat across the arm. Shrieking, her mother backhanded the rat, sending him arching high into the air. Two more ratmen appeared, circling behind her massive head, lugging some massive object between them.

Her descent came to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the slope, momentum lodging herself into a small wedge of rock. Her right leg bent at an awkward angle, crushing up against her pink chest, her muted chirps taking on a guttural quality as pain shot up her spine. It hurt too much to even move, and she glanced up at her parentrat in confusion, wondering why she had been discarded after being nursed and cared for.

The glint of bronze metal drew her gaze to the thing the two rats were carrying. At a glance it looked like a giant cone of orange metal, flared open at one end, tapered shut at the other. Two giant canisters protruded from the thin end of the device, the transparent orbs filled with swirling gas. Pipes criss-crossed from these canisters to various points all along the device, two such tubes trailing into a pair of distinctly looking eyespots on the higher end of the device. As the ratmen positioned themselves behind her breeder's head, they exposed the underside of the contraption, where various rubber straps hung in loose loops, secured to the cone by metal brackets. Its visage was almost like that of a face. Her mother's face, to be precise.

She squeaked out a warning to her breeder, but her chirps went unanswered, for the ratmen were laughing too loudly for them to be heard. With a shared heave, the two ratwives placed the device over her parentrat's face, replacing her features with an unsettling, metallic counterpart. She tried to pull the mask off, but another two more ratwives clambered up her chest, taking advantage of the distraction to pin her limbs down, slicing and cutting with their knives as she struggled.

She appeared bed-ridden, her massive legs unmoving, seemingly only in control of the upper half of her body as she writhed. The two ratmen with the device moved to those dangling straps next, pulling them tight against the breeder's chin. Leather creaked as the straps were strapped taut, one of the ratwives pressing a claw against a switch built into the jawline of the contraption.

Hissing chemicals drowned out the maniacal laughter of the rats, those canister near the chin beginning to swirl with thick, acrid smoke. Her parentrat's resistance began to slow, her chest inflating as she took a deep, muffled breath. After a moment, her apparent alarm subsided, the ratmen skittering clear as she relaxed her fists, her long toes curling as she wriggled on the spot.

"Where pup go?" one of the ratwives chittered. "Breeder drop thing somewhere!"

"Found it!" another squeaked, holding up a rock triumphantly.

"That not pup, you idiot! Find real pup! Quick-Quick!"

Squinting through soft eyes, terrified and alone, the pup that would become Skyseeker watched as the ratmen began to prowl the slope, every shouted word making her squirt fear-musk. She could do nothing but wait for them to take her, her paws digging into the little stones as the ratman came closer to her hiding place, one of them stamping a large paw in the silt inches before her snout.

Her mother's movements were sluggish, those canisters on her mask hissing with each breath she took. Those tubes were pumping that gas into her mouth, eyes, ears, every orifice in her face, and she didn't look the least bit bothered by it.

"There you are!"

The ratwife stuck his muzzle into her hiding place, her shrieks met with no mercy as he sealed his jaws around her, not applying enough pressure to bite, but just enough that he could lift her up into the air, her view enclosed by his teeth-riddled maw.

"Breeder take great interest in you!" he hissed as he plucked her from his jaws, holding her out in one paw. "You fortunate! Pups not last long down here. Wait-wait!"

Just as her mother had done, the ratman ran a finger down her torso, exploring at her anatomy for whatever reason. But where her parentrat had been doting, gentle, his strokes were rough and prodding, his discovery making his features light up with glee.

"Ooohhh, you are breeder too! Sense is making! Stupid bitchrat thought it could hide you! No female hide from breeder duty! Make sure you and breeder know this. Know this very well!"

He turned around, scampering up the slope with her clutched in one paw, squeezing the air out of her lungs with a harsh clench. Her world shook with every pace, but she could just make out her mother's prone form returning to view, the ratman reversing her parentrat's efforts with a horrible ease.

She kicked and squealed, but her parentrat didn't hear her efforts, couldn't, not with that mask on. They would put a mask on her next, and Skyseeker would never earn that name, not here, where she would grow fat and soft, too crippled to escape. They would treat her like a calf, amounting to nothing more than a specimen to fuel the Lord's armies with children, never to know the touch of the sun or the kindness of another.

And that mask would make sure she was compliant. And she would be glad for it.

She cried for her mother as the ratman took her past her large form, but nothing came out, just a dry, airless croak. She tried to wrestle free, but her limbs didn't move, and the pressure on her chest grew ever tighter. The last of her breath left her in a wordless scream, the darkness of the cave consuming her…

-xXx-

… and then she woke with a horrified cry. Though the night was warm, she was shivering all over, Skyseeker's eyes blazing open as she returned to her adult, developed body. She tried to draw breath, but the pressure on her chest was still there, Skyseeker gagging as the corners of her vision swirled with darkness. She fumbled for a weeping dagger, her fingers grasping the handle of the blade after a moment, driving its glowing tip towards whatever was suffocating her.

"Skyseeker! It's me, lass!"

She blinked, a dark shape poised above her drawing into focus, her weapon trembling inches from its face, the voice's odd accent sparking recognition. Her heart beating like a drum, she turned the flat of her left dagger, the magical glow of the weeping blade lighting the grizzled features of a man-thing.

"It's just me," Roderick said again. His gauntleted hands were on her shoulders, and now he raised them, his movements slow and cautious.

"S-Stupid man-thing," Skyseeker gasped, taking in a sharp breath. "Never interrupt… a Skaven's nap time!"

"You were screaming," he explained, his eyes flicking to her dagger as she lowered the blade. "Came to the point I couldn't stand listening to it anymore. Are you alright?"

She swiped her weeping blade into its sheath, missed, then dropped it on the grass in frustration, pressing the balls of her paws into her eyes. "What's time?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Couple hours into my watch," he said, turning his gaze skyward. "Dawn's a way off yet."

Her lower muzzle dropped in disbelief, Skyseeker sweeping her snout across the campsite. A few resilient embers still flickered in the circle of stones, the managed flames waving in the air. He wasn't lying, barely any time had passed, yet she felt even more tired than before. How did that make sense? She'd slept, hadn't she?

There was no breeze shaking the surrounding leaves, but Skyseeker still felt a shiver roll through her as she tried to compose herself in front of the man-thing. Nobody was allowed to see her like this. Nobody.

"Must have been one bad dream," Roderick mused, holding out his canteen. "Drink?"

"Never said nothing about dreams," she snapped, accepting his container and taking a measured sip. "What's man-thing phrase? Ah. I am fit as fiddles. Dreamless fiddles!" she insisted.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's your prerogative," he said, leaning on his hands as he settled in nearby. "But, we man-things believe there is wisdom in dreams, that they can act as heralds for good or bad tidings. Discussion is often the best way to find out which it is…"

She looped her arms over her knees, glancing up at the sky in thought, the way all the galaxies and planets spiralled through the black canvas distracting her. Despite her brilliant lies, the man-thing was seeing right through her. Perhaps it was best to get it out of the way now, rather than let him revel in his little victory for any longer.

"Fine! Skyseeker not dreamless fiddle," she admitted. "But dream wasn't dream. Dream was memory."

And then she told him, recalling the nightmare from its steady beginning to its horrific end. Roderick didn't say a word through it all, the man-thing doing little more than leaning in as he listened.

When she finished it, ending with her fate sealed in the ratwife's paws, he sat back, his neutral expression replaced with a sad look as he glanced at her. "I... I'm sorry, Skyseeker. To be taken away like that… I couldn't ever imagine."

She cocked her head. She'd expected him to probe for more information on the breeding grounds, the most strategically important asset in every Skaven Clan, or perhaps ask her how she escaped the clutches of the ratwife, but instead his first words were an apology?

"Why Rick-rod sorry?" she demanded. "Man-thing wasn't there, man-thing probably pup himself when dream happened."

"I was the one who brought up the subject of our parents," he explained. "Should have known better. You did tell me about the role females serve in Skaven society."

She said nothing, idly picking at a tuft of grass between her feet.

"Can you remember what happened after you were taken?" Roderick continued. "That Skaven who grabbed you wouldn't have made an escape easy. That is, if your comfortable talking about it?"

That last part only added to her confusion, but she did her best to ignore it.

"Ratwife didn't really find me," she explained. "Brain tried to tricky-trick! Gave false reality. Ratwives gave up after time, never found my masterful hiding spot. Stupid rats not know that I was breeder, so didn't look hard enough. When safe, I scurried deeper into pits, used the deep-dark shadows for hiding."

"But, you were a pup, how on earth did you survive?"

"Man-thing forgets I am craftiest rat!" she snarled, shooting him an annoyed look. "Plenty of eating-things in pits, just have to follow nose! Nothing as good as parentrat's sustenance – worms close second – but every scrap gave strength, bring one step closer into becoming best rat! Not long before paws found rusty dagger in rubbish pit. Took first assassining when feet-paws started working!"

"I'm not sure whether to be impressed or concerned," Roderick replied. "Did you ever return to the pit? The one with your mother?"

She averted her eyes, wrapping her hood tighter around her face.

"No. Well, yes, kinda," she began. "Not know how much time passed, but was sneak-sneaky enough to find way to breeding pit edges. Saw parentrat from afar. She was… bigger," she muttered, her tail trailing off as she sulked onto her side. "Ratwives had made her so fat, paws couldn't even lift off ground. Punishment for letting pup-me free. Wanted to go down, take off breeder mask, but… paws wouldn't let me."

"Do not lament, lass," Roderick said. "there was nothing you could do."

"I was so… scared," she said in a quivering voice. "but I wanted to save parentrat, return favour! But I was too weak to try…"

"Being afraid isn't a weakness," Roderick replied. "only fools don't listen to their fears. And you'd have been a fool indeed to go back there. Imagine if you'd been caught. Your mothers' efforts to save you would have been wasted had that happened. You did the right thing."

She didn't reply, clenching that tuft of grass hard enough to sever the little stalks.

"… I too, have lost people I cared for," Roderick continued, Skyseeker's ears twitching in his direction. "The bonds we form in battle often break the hardest, and I've lost as many brothers in arms as I've fought in wars. I know it pales in comparison to what you went through, lass, but I know what it's like to lose someone close to you. Had my own share of nightmares back when I was a lad."

"What did man-thing do to fix them?" she asked.

"Took solace with family, friends, those kinds of people."

"Not have any of those around," Skyseeker sulked.

Without warning, Roderick scooted closer, extending an arm towards her shoulder. She pulled away, squeaking in surprise.

"W-What are you doing?" she hissed, baring her teeth as he frowned at her.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked. "You have at least one friend on this mission, lass."

"What, warpstone?" she asked, raising a brow. "Not see warpstone since Skavenblight."

"No you dolt, me," Roderick clarified.

"Ohhhh…" she said, clarity draping over her like a cloak. "But, no wait! Man-thing is… man-thing. Skaven can't be friends with man-thing! Unnatural!"

"And us working towards a common goal is natural?" he asked back, Skyseeker shifting uncomfortably as she tried to think of a response.

"You… want to be Skyseeker friend?" she whispered. She realised she was breathing hard, an odd swimming sensation developing inside her chest. By the Horned Rat, she was making herself look bad! She needed to get a hold of herself.

"I-I mean," she corrected. "Rick-rod will be Skyseeker's friend! Yes-Yes! Be grateful that you have such a cunning companion who can tolerate you!"

He chuckled, and this time when he reached out to her, she didn't move away. She could have broken, bitten, severed, or done any number of violent things to his limb at that moment, but she let him come closer. Even as the fur on the back of her neck brushed out, her instincts to defend herself rising to the front of her thoughts, she shoved it all back, tensing as his fingers brushed her shoulder.

From the outside she looked like she was trying to hold her bowels in, which was an accurate assumption in some ways, Skyseeker's fear-musk wisping out as his palm settled against her fur. Not knowing what to do with her arms, she held her paws out at awkward angles in front of her, her whole body feeling like it had just been encased in cold ice.

"You should get some rest," Roderick said, that hand pulling away after a second. "My watch isn't quite over yet."

"N-Not feel like sleep anymore," she muttered.

"If the dreams come again, I'll wake you," he assured. "You'll need your sleep when it's your turn to keep an eye out."

"Man-thing," she began, wringing her paws together. "Why would you-you comfort me? Tried to sneak attack you, then take your foods. Done nothing but get in Rick-rod's way. Efforts in mission have been negligible."

"You don't earn someone's compassion through what you can offer them, don't you see that?" he asked. "Look at your mother. She didn't save you from those pits because she thought you would give her something in return. She did it out of the goodness of her heart, as anyone would."

"No Skaven would ever do… this," she said, gesturing between them.

"Does it bother you?"

After hesitating for a few seconds, she shook her head, the sensation of being this close to him making her too lightheaded to talk further. Roderick had brushed aside every chance at leaving her behind. Instead, he'd used the opportunities to comfort her and show her kindness. It didn't make sense! And the fact that her genius couldn't discern his actions also didn't make sense, her brain curdling with pain as she started thinking too hard.

What was this peculiar feeling overcoming her? She found herself relaxing in Roderick's proximity, her heart beating so hard she feared it might jump straight out of her chest and into the campfire. She should be showing this man-thing her tenacity, not acting like a weakling seeking comfort. He'd told her he wasn't attuned to magics, but he had to be lying, it was as though he'd cast some sort of spell on her.

She slid her butt over the dirt until she was laying down. Roderick made to move away, but she seized his weird paw with her own (superior) one. "Wait!" she exclaimed. "Will man-thing… stay with me? Just for small moment, while I nap?"

"… Very well," he said, putting his back to the grass beside her, the two laying together.

"N-Not like I need Rick-rod's comfort anyway!" she added. "Stupid man-thing assumes incorrectly!"

Roderick just grinned, propping his head up with one paw, his other curling over his chest. Her gazelocked firmly to the heavens, as did his, her tail flicking in agitation as she tried to ignore the heat his body was putting out. She felt compromised, hearing the Great Lord Gnawdwell scoff in disgust as he spectated her from afar, but at the same time it felt so… peaceful, to be in physical contact with someone without worrying about being shanked.

After five minutes or so, she felt the touch of sleep, her eyes slowly shutting. A part of her worried that her dreams would come back, but the night scrolled by without further interruption.

-xXx-

"What a sight for sore eyes," Roderick said, his shadow trailing out in front of him, mirroring his movements as he held out a hand. "See that, lass?"

"Don't be stupid, Rick-rod," she chided, pointing a claw at her goggled face. "Skyseeker sees all with gift!"

The endless carpets of woodlands had abated a few hours prior, the green and beige landscape stretching far into the west, its stopping point coming into view at long last. Rising above the shallow hills was a wide, flat stretch of stone, an imposing edifice rising some hundred odd meters into the sky. Battlements lined the peak of the obstacle in regular intervals, the fortified turrets standing out against the blue backdrop. She reached up and bloomed the image using her goggles, her sight bringing her far closer to the object. Notches and grooves had been sliced into its surface, forming bricks larger than her whole body. Upon closer inspection, she noted the edifice gently curved away to the left and right, the bastion forming a rough semi-circle of protection.

Rising up from beyond the wall were several strange shapes, Skyseeker picking out sloped rooftops and tall, domed structures, a couple of which were draped in colourful awnings. The haze of distance made it too difficult to pick out much more detail, but she thought she could see figures patrolling between the watchtowers.

"What Rick-rod know about Portquagmire?" Skyseeker asked, the man-thing setting off towards the wall.

"Portomaggoire," he corrected. "and very little. I imagine civilised folk will be more welcoming than the mercenaries out here in the country, but we should still be cautious either way."

"Welcoming enough to let me walk paw-feet into city?" Skyseeker asked. "Marvelous! Mission easy-peasy!"

"Ah, almost forgot about that," Roderick said, glancing down at her. "The gates will be guarded, and if word has reached Portomaggoire about the Skaven invasion, which it likely has, they'll be inspecting anyone who comes through. Assuming the city's still open to visitors of course. You might be able to pass off as a dwarf – keyword being might – as long as you don't speak, and we find something to cover you up."

"Cloak covers Skaven just fine-fine!" she replied, pulling her hood over her face to demonstrate, the leaves tied to it rustling with the movement.

"Yes, except wearing a camouflaged cloak isn't exactly in line with dwarven fashion, and won't blend in well inside the walls. Smuggling you through the gate won't be an easy task."

"Still have long time to get to city," Skyseeker pointed out, snickering under her breath. "Will come up with clever ruse soon!"

They weaved through the fields, the city entering and leaving view as the bumpy hills obstructed her vision. The hours of walking seemed to blend together for Skyseeker, but at one particular crest of a hill, she was able to see great stretches of blue water surrounding the city wall to each side, the water reflecting off the lowering sun. Unlike the rivers back in the marshes, the liquid here was mostly clear, its surface textured with breaker waves that flowed from left to right in mesmerising patterns. She couldn't wait to take a closer look at it.

As their shadows began to shorten, then extend from behind their feet, they came across a feature in the ground, recognition flashing in her eyes. Another road cut a swath of cobblestones through the uneven terrain, the paved rocks trailing away in a crooked line, their destination obvious enough. It looked less abused than the one they'd seen in the dense forest. That meant man-things were active in this area.

"While walking on an actual road for once would be nice," Roderick began. "every step closer to the city increases our chances of running across someone. Let's keep our distance for now."

Skyseeker agreed, the two keeping the road a short distance to their right as they approached the city. Clumps of forest began to obscure the base of the wall, Skyseeker just able to pick out the turrets through the gaps in the canopy. The sun was on its way to the horizon by this point, the sky painted a harsh gold in its wake. Before long, the sun arched below the wall, its heat slowly going absent, leaving Skyseeker cold and not a little bit apprehensive about their next move.

Skyseeker's ears swivelled towards the city, the sounds of hushed conversations soon reaching her attentive hearing range, her glands bleeding a hint of fear-musk. How many man-things called this city home? If it was even a fraction of the size of Skavenblight, there could be tens of thousands of them. Killing them all would be very difficult, even for her prestigious self.

Roderick heard the noises too – a few sluggish minutes later of course – gesturing for her to stop.

"Good sign," he whispered, inching through the woods more carefully now. "If the gates were closed, we wouldn't hear a sound. Not at this hour."

Keeping low to the ground, she followed him, creeping forward with a paw on a weeping blade. They soon came upon the edge of the woodland, the undergrowth forming a natural barrier of trees. She poked her head between two trunks, spotting the road just a few feet out in front of her. She followed the gentle curve of the pavement with her eyes, her muzzle trailing to the left, Skyseeker blinking as she took in a strange sight.

Only a short knife-throwing distance away was the foot of the wall, so unimaginably larger now that she was up close. It rose into the air like a sheer cliff face, made from hundreds of individual weathered stones, each one so large even a rat ogre would have trouble lifting one. Its slate-grey surface was smooth, but only just, the little gaps where the stones didn't quite sit flush together drawing her eye. They made for obvious weaknesses for a skilled climber, but it was an impressive construct all the same.

Her gaze lowered, towards the wall's solitary feature. The road wound its way up to a gate, the opening shaped like the man-thing letter V, but upside down. The opening tunnelled like a burrow into the thick wall, straight out onto the other side. The top of its arch was lined with rows of metal teeth four or five layers deep, the contraptions sitting into grooves in the ceiling. She had seen enough man-thing architecture back in Skavenblight to know those teeth were part of things called portcullises, which were barriers slotted neatly into grooves above the gate when not in use, beyond anyone's sight.

Standing guard of said gate were a group of man-things dressed in wargear, six in all, halberds pointed to the sky as they stood in a defensive line. They peered out from behind their helmets at an approaching wagon, the contraption pulled along by a four-legged-thing, or a horse as Roderick called it. The driver yanked on the reigns, the wooden wheels of the vehicle rolling to a stop. One of the guards began to speak with him, but their drawling speech was drowned out, not just by distance, but by even more man-things.

Groups of them milled about the gate, some leaving – using another branching road that curved along the wall to the right and out of sight – most moving towards the city interior. A lot of them were dressed in colourless cloth outfits sporting minimum protection, suggesting they were slaves of some sort, while a few others looked like they meant business, garbed in protective leathers and even a few plated pieces like Roderick's armour, swords and axes winging from their belts.

"Eeek! So many man-things!" Skyseeker hissed, her fear-musk filling the air. She ducked into cover, certain that she would be discovered if she exposed herself for a second longer.

"It's a city, lass, what did you expect?" Roderick asked, peering through the shrubs to her side, chewing his lip in thought. "Looks like they're inspecting everyone who enters. Not good."

"Any other gate-things?" she asked.

"Certainly, but they'll be just as guarded as this one. Hmm. Perhaps we can stop the next wagon, hide you along with the cargo or something."

"That sounds like great plan… NOT!" she added. "This why man-things always losing, not know how to plan like Skaven plans!"

"If you have any suggestions, then let's hear them."

"When Skaven wants to make infiltration, simple plans often best ones!" She jabbed a claw up at the wall. "Look, plenty of holdhands for paws. Man-thing guards only watching road, not wall. Won't see me!"

"You… want to climb a couple hundred feet of wall?"

"Rick-rod sounds doubtful. Should see Skavenblight caverns, rocks go for thousands of feet! Some are even this big" She spread her paws out as wide as possible to illustrate their size. "Stupid wall is nothing."

"You did climb that tree fairly well, so I suppose I'll take your word for it," he replied. "There'll be watchmen up on the battlements, mind you. They won't be excepting a lone Skaven to climb up to their posts so brazenly, but still…"

She could sense his apprehension, insulting him mentally for being so idiotic.

"If man-things get in my way, it's kill-stabbing time!" she declared, producing a weeping blade and twirling it through her fingers, its glow bathing them in green light.

"Skyseeker!" Roderick gasped. "Let's make one thing very clear. While we're in this city, killing is the last possible resort for either of us."

"Aww, Rick-rod! How come?"

"These men are just doing their duty," he explained, wagging a chiding finger at her. "They're different from the men you've faced out in the country, lass. These are keepers of the peace, not soldiers of war."

"… What about just one tiny little stab?"

"Absolutely not! Murdering is out of the question, unless you have literally no other choice. Understand?"

"You're no fun," she sighed, sheathing her blade, Roderick flashing her a stern look. "Fine-fine! Won't stab man-things, but no promises!"

"Oh yes there will be. I want your word that you'll do as I ask, Skyseeker. We're here to seek transport, not to murder the town guard. My conscience is burdened enough, I can't have you adding to it."

She blinked in confusion, wondering how he could ration her killing to becoming his fault, but then she remembered she wouldn't be anywhere near this city if not for Roderick's input to the plan. He waited patiently for her answer, his expression unwavering. He was a determined individual, if nothing else.

"Urgh, very good-well," she relented, lifting her goggles and looking him in the eye. It was a small gesture, but she had a feeling he would appreciate her candor. "Take word. Have all the words, like this one, and this one!"

"Thank you," Roderick replied, relaxing a little. "Now that we've sorted that out, it's time to go. We're losing daylight."

"How will Rick-rod get inside?" she asked. "Climb like Skaven?"

"Nothing so elaborate," he answered. "I'll try my luck with the front door first."

"And if man-thing guards get suspicious?" she pressed. She tried to mask her concern, keeping her eyes locked on the top of the wall.

"Why would they? I am but a humble traveller in their eyes. Besides, attacking someone in clear view of the gate isn't a good look for the guard, you needn't worry," he replied. Damn Roderick and his keen eyesight, could she hide nothing from him? "Get climbing, lass," he added. "Meet you on the other side."

He flashed her a grin, stepping brazenly through the foliage and onto the road, starting off towards the gate. She could almost see the confidence he was radiating, how did he do it? If their positions were reversed, and she were the one to walk through the gate in plain sight, her glands would shrink to the size of walnuts from how much fear-musk she'd spray. Such courage only existed in the toughest warlords. Her choice of ally was better than she first thought.

She slapped herself on the muzzle. Roderick's tricks were distracting her thoughts, she had to stay focused. Save the admiration for later, assuming the man-thing actually got through those guards, of course…

-xXx-

Roderick watched the rat woman scurry through the woods, her pink tail vanishing into the undergrowth on his left. He feared what might happen should she be discovered during her climb, but right now he had his own problems to deal with, Roderick turning his attention to the gate.

The wagon seemed to have been given the all clear, the guards parting to let the horse trot through. A line of people had formed behind it, Roderick walking over to join the queue, standing behind a pair of older gentlemen garbed in overalls. They looked like farmers, probably from one of Portomoggoire's outer settlements he'd spotted on his approach to the city.

As the line moved up, he turned his eyes towards the wall, searching for his companion. He spotted the Skaven after a moment, Skyseeker bounding up the great stones one leap at a time, her heavy panting carrying on the wind. Her custom-made cloak gave her the appearance of a jumping shrub, Roderick grinning in amusement as she crossed the halfway mark.

His smirk faltered as she paused in her climb to wipe her brow dramatically, Roderick silently urging the rat woman to hurry it up. To say she stuck out like a sore thumb would be an understatement, but if anyone could pull off a successful infiltration wearing a cloak like that, it would be Skyseeker.

"You hard of hearing sir? I said step forward, please."

Roderick snapped out of his stupor, his gaze falling onto the speaker, one of the gate guards beckoning to him. The man wore a thick leather gambeson, the material stretching down to his wrists and knees like a tunic, his legs covered in a sheet of mail. He wore a white and blue surcoat over the gambeson, the Tilean coat of arms – a pair of crossed swords – etched into the front. His appearance screamed militiaman, as did the rest of the entourage flanking him.

"Name?" the guard asked. He sounded rather bored, and not a little bit tired too.

"I am… Riccardo," Roderick replied, hoping his Tilean accent didn't sound too forced. "Mercenary for the-"

"Didn't ask your occupation," the guard scoffed. "Pass?"

"Pardon?"

"Need to see your pass," he explained, lifting a hand and probing the inside of his ear. "Orders are in times of war all citizens are required to carry a pass. Helps verify identity and reduces the risk of foreign intrusion."

"Do I look like a Skaven spy to you?"

"You look like trouble," the guard replied flatly. "If you've no pass, ask for a form at the town hall."

"So I need to get inside to get a pass, and I can't get in without a pass. How's that make sense?"

"I'm a guard, sir, I don't make sense of orders, I just carry them out."

Roderick silently cursed, seeing that this approach was leading nowhere. He didn't have time for this, plan B it was…

"Say, how much do you earn every hour you stand around watching that gate?"

The man's left brow experienced a twitch. "Never enough these days."

He hadn't immediately dismissed him, that was a good sign. "I can imagine," Roderick continued, reaching for his pack. He produced a handful of gold coins, making sure only the guard could see, the little tokens glinting in the setting sun. "How'd you like to earn a decent wage? just one minute of your time, I'll pay you for a dozen hours' worth of standing about. We have a deal? Or should I go visit one of the other gates?"

Roderick knew the man's answer even before he'd even said it, the guard's eyes lighting up as Roderick extended his hand. The man let his halberd rest against his side, using the other to swipe the coins, sliding them into the inside of his surcoat. "On your way then, mercenary. Have a nice evening."

Roderick tilted his head in a nod, silently brushing past the procession of guards, the men narrowing their eyes at him. These Tileans were all the same…

He crossed beneath the raised portcullises, sconces mounted on either side casting a flickering yellow glow across the masonry. The ceiling was rounded and mostly bare, save for a massive trap door built towards the inner gate, the mechanism split into two halves. Roderick had been in more than enough sieges to know that this trapdoor made an excellent vantage point for defenders to shoot arrows, or drop rocks, on any would-be attackers.

Two more militiamen were posted just beyond the inner gate, but they paid Roderick no mind as he walked out into the street, taking a moment to admire the city proper.

Before him was a paved road, splitting off into two distinct paths as it distanced from the wall. Lining either side of the pavement were marble buildings three or four stories tall, their facades decorated with green window shutters, shaded by teal cloth awnings. Projecting balconies were decorated with lush gardens, carpets of vines trailing down some of the more ornate establishments. Even in the dawning night, the saturation of colour was a welcome sight from the wilderness.

Smoke trailed from the chimneys jutting from the sloping rooftops, the tiles painted a rusty orange that contrasted with the mustard-yellow walls of the buildings. While not near as luxurious as the Imperial capital of Altdorf, where one couldn't walk ten feet without seeing some elaborate carving or ornate pillar, Portomaggoire seemed to be doing well enough for itself.

"Psst! Man-thing!"

Glancing to his left, he spotted a short alleyway driven between two of the tall dwellings, a conspicuous pink nose sticking out of the shadows. Relieved, he checked both directions of the street, then hurried over, leaning a hand on the corner of the wall.

"Over here!" the voice hissed. "It's me-me! Skyseeker!"

"I'm right here, you can stop whispering," Roderick said, peering back up at the great wall. "See you made the climb. Any trouble?"

"Nah, only had to kill two guards. Tried to ring alarm-bell, but I stopped them quick-quick!"

Roderick's jaw hit the ground, Skyseeker snickering as she pointed a claw at him.

"HA! Look at face! Skaven only jokes with Rick-rod. Climb was no trouble."

A half smile, half scowl touched his face. "Thank Sigmar for that. Now then, let's see what we can do about your disguise. Turn your cloak inside out."

"What was cover story-tale again?" she asked, shrugging off her garment. "Not thought of one yet."

"I have. You're a dwarf, hailing from Clan… Angrund," Roderick said. "You came here in search of adventure and coin, but keep your lips sealed, you don't exactly have the most inconspicuous speech. Shouldn't be an issue, though, it's not like someone will just waltz up and start talking to you, unless there's actual dwarfs here."

"Why do I have to be a stupid beard-thing?" she sulked. "Don't even have beard!"

"Who would you rather disguise yourself as?"

"Uhhhmmm… Skaven?"

"Just stay close to me and you'll be fine… I hope."

He was once again treated to her slim body as she pulled her cloak over her narrow shoulders, her belts and straps clinging to her athletic figure. Skyseeker flipped the cloak so the foliage was on the inside, taking a few minutes to empty the pockets of knifes and warp-stars, stuffing them into the satchels vested to her chest.

"Tuck your tail away," Roderick added, watching as she stuffed the appendage out of sight. The cloak trailed down to her thighs, hiding most of her torso, but leaving her digitigrade feet in open view. That was to say nothing about her ears, sticking out of the cuts in her hood.

"This is... going to be harder than I thought," he admitted. "We need more cloth. Perhaps there's a tailor nearby."

"Tail? You just said put tail away!"

"No, tailor, it's someone who sells clothes."

"Why buy when you can steal?"

"What do you…" Before he could finish, she scurried up the far wall of the alley, leaping up the façade using the window sills as leverage, Roderick checking the street for any onlookers.

"Sky!" Roderick hissed, and now it was his turn to whisper. "What are you doing? Get down from there!"

"One seconds!" she declared, not bothering to keep her voice down. She reached a balcony up on the third floor of the building, balancing her feet on the short railing. The double doors leading into the dwelling were shut, luckily, the Skaven turning her attention to the tarp sheltering the jutting balustrade.

Pulling out her weeping blades, she hacked at the corners where the cloth connected to the awning, soon freeing the fabric from the structure. She let the tarp drop, where it hit the pavement by Roderick's feet with a loud slap, then she clambered back down the wall, dusting her hands proudly as Roderick scowled at her.

"Do you always just do the first thing that comes to mind, lass?" he asked. "You could have been spotted just now."

"But I wasn't," she pointed out, as though that was the end of the problem. Shrugging, she turned her attention to her stolen prize, using her enchanted blades to cut the cloth into smaller pieces. "Need Rick-rod's knitting thing," she added, holding out an expectant paw.

"It's sewing needle," he sighed, fishing into his pack. It took about ten minutes, but once their work was done, Skyseeker was mummified in the fabric of the tarp, every part of her save for her muzzle draped in thick, dark material. The added layer of cloth gave her a slightly bulkier appearance, making her look more like a monk than a dwarf, but hopefully the added brawn would help sell the image.

"Guess that will have to do," Roderick said, hands on his hips as he appraised her. "At least until the stitches break, or you start talking."

"Hey!" she complained. "Heard-listened to many beard-things in my day, know their stupid speech! Want to hear my impression?"

"Not really."

The Skaven cleared her throat, ignoring him as she held a hand to her breast, putting on a terrible gruff accent.

" Greetings, fellow beard-things! Someone borrowed Warpstone from me twenty thousand years ago and I'm still angry-mad about it. Who else hate-hates the pointy-ears? Stink of trees and flowers and… trees. Not surprising if they breed-mate with trees, disgusting surface-dwellers."

"Please let me do the talking from now on, okay lass? For both our sakes."

They moved back onto the street, Roderick taking the path leading furthest from the gate, Skyseeker struggling to adjust in her heavy clothing and the lack of counterbalance with her tail.

As they turned the next corner, Roderick tensed, spotting a young man coming the other way. He seemed to be on his own, which made as good a test as any to see if Skyseeker's disguise would work.

"What do I do?" Skyseeker demanded, sidling up to Roderick's left.

"Just act natural. You're a dwarf in a human city, you've nothing to fear."

They kept their pace as the stranger walked closer, Roderick cringing as Skyseeker started to whistle out a tune. It wasn't really a whistle, nor a tune for that matter, Skyseeker sounding like she was trying to shoo a fly away by blowing air on it.

Fortunately, the stranger didn't even bat an eye, Roderick keeping the Skaven as much behind him as possible as the young man walked by. Clearly the people were content, here in civilisation, and Roderick couldn't blame them. After so many months roughing it in the wilds, it felt good to be standing behind some walls.

"Phew! What an impeccable disguise I've connived! Anyway, where is Rick-rod's ship?" Skyseeker asked, stopping beside a mailbox, giving its metal lid a tap. "And what is this thing?"

"Over in the port district, and that's a letter box," he answered.

"Oooh," she gasped, bending over and giving the box a curious once-over. She pulled on the handle, the lid opening in such a way that one couldn't easily reach in to grab its contents. Fortunately for Skyseeker, her arms seemed to be more muscle than bone, and after a bit of fiddling she was elbow-deep into the box.

"Which way is port?" she asked, the sound of rustling paper reaching his ears as she pushed her bicep through the lid. He considered telling her that she was invading people's privacy, but she probably wouldn't care. Or understand for that matter.

"West side of town, I'd imagine, but that can wait. I've spent several long months sleeping it rough out there, I plan to take advantage of this change of scenery as soon as possible."

"But what of mission?" Skyseeker urged, pulling her hand out from the lid, a letter with a red seal clutched in her paw. "And ship? And relic? And Fredwil? Time is of essence!"

"We'll be saving plenty of time travelling by sea, lass, and sleeping in an actual bed with a hot meal will do us both good. Besides, who knows when we'll get the chance to rest up like this again?"

"Point made," Skyseeker conceded, ripping the seal of the letter with a claw, slowly prying the parchment out. "Relic not going anywhere. Perchance we do some… explorations of this city, too?"

"Sure, we'll wake up early, have a look around when there's less people."

Skyseeker shrieked, Roderick's eardrums bursting as she hopped on the spot. "Splendid! Always wanted to explore man-thing places. Well not really, but now I do! Is Portstagmire like where Rick-rod grew up?"

"Our dwellings aren't so different from these," he answered. "A little less colourful, perhaps. If you're done fiddling around with that letter, we should go find someplace to rest up."

"Just making sure enemies aren't plotting, stupid!" she snapped, bringing the letter to her face

"Well?" he asked after a few moments. "Any plots we should be aware of?"

"Not on this one," she replied, tossing the parchment over her shoulder. "Felt more letters inside box-thing. Let's check another."

"Let's not," Roderick said, placing a hand on her back, ushering her away from the mailbox. "Neither of us have ever been here before, lass. There's no enemies, plots, or schemes. We're safe here."

"For now!" Skyseeker added. "Man-things very tricky creatures. Walls keep enemies away, yes-yes, but also keep others from escaping! You'll see!"

They rounded another bend in the road, the sunlight grazing the very tips of the rooftops, the encroaching darkness making it hard to see. Here the path forked into two directions, splitting past a triangular flank of a building. The junction was marked by a tall post, which was capped with a glass container. The place was deserted save for a woman leaning against a door to the right, Roderick catching her features as she looked up. She was an attractive woman, if a little on the elderly side, her cleavage proudly displayed though the low-cut neck of her dark dress.

"Why's that man-thing over th- BAH!" Skyseeker suddenly shrieked, scurrying behind Roderick's leg. The mantle of the post had flared to life, a brilliant point of yellow light blooming through the glass container. Roderick could see no mechanical means to suggest it was powered through steam, like the lamp posts in Reikland. Perhaps the Tileans used some other mechanism?

"Relax, Sky, it's just the lights coming on." He glanced back the way they'd come, seeing more mounted posts flaring to life, more light driving back the dark.

"I-I knew that," Skyseeker mumbled, dusting herself off as she took up her spot again. "Anyways, what was I saying? Oh! Why's that man-thing looking at you?"

"She probably thinks I'm looking for some… relief."

"That's a SHE?!" the Skaven exclaimed, tilting her head in the woman's direction. "GASP! A man-thing breeder… Not thought I'd ever see day…"

"Did you just say ' gasp'?" Roderick asked. "Never mind. Let's go this way."

"But I want to ask it questions! Breeder to breeder!"

As they approached the fork, the woman spoke up.

"Where you off to, honey?" she asked in a breathy voice, gesturing with a gloved hand. "All your night's desires are right here~…"

"Sound like good deal," Skyseeker whispered. "Rick-rod! It's talking to you-you! Take the offer!"

"I'll have to pass on that one, madam," Roderick said, turning to address the woman. "Good day."

He hurried a protesting Skyseeker along, only resuming their prior pace once the woman was out of sight. The Skaven gave his thigh a slap, frowning up at him from beneath her hood.

"What was that about?" Skyseker demanded. "She-man-thing gives you deal-offer and you just walk away? Elaborate!"

"I wasn't buying what she was selling, let's just put it that way."

"What way? Explanations!"

"Well," Roderick began, running a hand through his hair. "Up here, everyone has to find a way of making a living, and some women like to... offer themselves to people."

"Just spit it out, Rick-rod! Simple words."

"She was… asking me for sex," Roderick relented.

"Sex. I see. That makes sense. Wait! I don't follow. Why did it want to have sex with you?"

"Take a wild guess, lass. Everything out here costs gold, and that's her way of earning it."

"Hang on," Skyseeker began. "You said female man-things not like Skaven breeders, but female back there has breeding career!"

"It's not a career, some people simply have no other choice," Roderick explained. "It's a tough world out here for women. With every other husband and son coerced into these never-ending wars, it's left a lot of poor widows behind to fend for themselves. It's a pity."

"If you pity her, why not take deal?"

"Paying for sex is not exactly a good look for a general," Roderick answered. "Plus, I prefer my lasses to be a little on the younger side."

"Do you have a breeder, Rick-rod?" Skyseeker asked, peering up at him from behind her hood.

"What, you mean a wife? No. Between my exile and this mission, I haven't had much time to woo the wenches."

"Interesting," she muttered.

"Indeed? How so?"

She ignored him, lifting her muzzle up and taking a loud sniff of the air. "Oh! Food-things nearby! This way-way!"

She took him by the hand, guiding him further up the road. Roderick took a whiff, but all he could smell was the faint stench of body odour and motor oil. As they turned the next corner, that began to change, one of the buildings further up the street catching his attention.

Muffled music leaked out of the windows of a unique dwelling, this one sporting a pair of batwing doors. Its stone façade was painted over a rusty orange, the building five levels high, making it far taller than any of the surrounding dwellings. A rickety sign plastered above the doors swung gently in the breeze, a nearby streetlamp providing enough light for Roderick to read off the letters.

"The… Crippled Gryphon?" he muttered, chuckling to himself. "Now that's ironic, isn't it lass? Good find by the way, a tavern is perfect."

As they moved up to the door, he pulled Skyseeker aside, the pair stepping into a nearby alleyway. "Here's what we're going to do," he started, keeping his voice down. "You wait here, while I head inside, buy us a room for the night, then we'll figure out how to get you in. Shouldn't take two minutes."

"Counter scheme," she replied. " I go in, while you wait here-here. Master of disguises, I am!"

"Your tail's showing," he pointed out, Skyseeker squeaking as she quickly shoved the appendage back into her cloak. "I know you were a trader, but I think bartering with a fellow human should be my task."

"Whatever," Skyseeker said, turning around. "Alley much more interesting anyway. Hey, a rubbish bin! Ohhh, I hope there's food inside!"

Roderick stopped the excited Skaven from launching herself into the nearby dumpster. "Please don't eat that, Skyseeker. I'll buy you food, alright? Proper human food, you'll love it. Just be a bit patient."

He didn't like the way she was looking at the pile of trash, but she stayed on the spot once he let her go, Roderick dipping back out onto the street.

"Two minutes," he insisted, Skyseeker offering a thumbs-up as he rounded the corner.

Mounting the short flight of steps, Roderick pushed the batwing doors open, the chill of the night replaced by a cozy warmth as he stepped inside. The music he'd heard from the street grew louder, his eyes falling on a trio of musicians gathered on a stage built into the left side of the room. Two of them were men, one holding a jingling tambourine, the other tucking a fiddle beneath his chin. The third was a woman, her lips pursed over the end of an ornate flute, the three of them filling the tavern with a jolly tune.

A wooden bar occupied the right wall of the room, the countertop's edges smoothed into curves, the corners carved with intricate patterns. It was flanked by rows of colourful bottles, and even a few tapped kegs of beer. Between the bar and the stage were dozens of chairs and couches, the walls supported by table booths where patrons were eating and chatting.

Humans were the majority of the guests, but Roderick could pick out a few of the other races. A group of dwarfs were lounging around in one of the booths, their hearty laughter loud enough to overpower the music, and there were a pair of elves leaning against the far windowsill, their pointed ears displayed for all to see.

Roderick made his way over to the bar, shouldering his way through the crowded floor. A stout man wearing a dirty apron over a white shirt was wiping mugs down with a cloth, Roderick catching his attention with a thump on the bar-top.

"Greetings, innkeep," Roderick said, nodding to the man. "Looking for a room. Preferably one with a bath."

"You're telling me," the innkeeper replied, pinching his nose. "You look like you've just gone to the chaos realms and back. What's your story, stranger?"

"Let's just say I'm not picking up hitchhikers ever again," Roderick said, placing a pouch on the counter, the coins inside it jingling. "How much?"

"You've come to the right place. Bed and bath'll be fifteen gold for the night."

Roderick blinked. He'd taken a modest sum from the mercenaries on the night of his escape, but that was a steep price for an inn. "And for two beds?" he asked.

"Another ten," the innkeep replied. "You here with company?"

"No, just curious," he replied, setting the coins down. Things might get a little cramped, sharing a room with the Skaven, but he needed to spend his money wisely – who knew when the next bribe might come up.

"Also in the mood for a good meal," Roderick added. "The road's been long, and I feel like I could eat for two."

"In that case, six gold will get you our heartiest dinner. Another coin and I'll make it a platter. We've got a roasted boar tonight, fresh off the spit."

"I'll take it."

The innkeep whisked up his money, stashing it below the counter. "Thank you, stranger, I'll have a maid prepare your room. Drink while you wait? First one's on me."

Roderick nodded, the innkeeper turning to one of the kegs, tankard in hand. When he turned back, the mug was filled to the rim with creamy froth, Roderick feeling the cool ale through his glove as he took it. He raised the drink to his lips, taking a small sip, his eyes going wide as the bitter liquid parched his throat. Emboldened, he took a less restrained gulp, raising his head to the ceiling. By all the gods, it felt delightful to have his belly warmed with ale after such a long absence.

After three seconds, he'd downed the whole thing, setting the empty tankard down, the movement disturbing some of the bottles on the racks. Forget being stingy with his money, he'd earned a few luxuries after his perilous trip from the Empire. He ordered another, thanking the innkeeper as he turned away, the wonderful music capturing his attention.

The musicians were building the tune towards a crescendo, the woman with the flute getting up from her stool to parade about the stage, never missing a note as she began to dance. Some of the more boisterous patrons started to join her, shoving aside the chairs to clear a floorspace, their drunken twirls and twists making the group of dwarfs hysterical.

Roderick grinned, taking up a spot in one of the unoccupied corners, leaning against the wall as he sipped his drink. Watching the guests stumble and laugh reminded Roderick of the times he and his warband had returned home after many months of war, ready to celebrate all night long.

His smile faded. That had been long ago, when there had been time for parades and benders that went on from dawn to dusk, before all the threats to the Empire had begun to get out of control. Could one forgotten relic really save the Imperial people? The Empire needed good soldiers, not magical artifacts, though from what Skyseeker had told him of the relic, he imagined the Conclave would be very interested to use its power to turn the tides…

"Psst! Man-thing!"

Roderick yelped, drawing the eyes of several nearby guests. Trying to compose himself, he turned his head slowly to the right, finding himself staring right into a familiar ruby-red iris, the globe framed by a small crack in the brickwork.

"S-Skyseeker?" Roderick whispered, making sure no one was looking. "What in the… How did you get in the wall?"

The Skaven's answer was a nefarious cackle, her pink nose appearing through the gap as she angled her muzzle through. "Rick-rod get room yet?"

"It's being prepared right now," Roderick answered, raising his drink. He wanted to chide Skyseeker for not waiting outside, but at least she had the foresight to be discreet.

"What you drinking?" Skyseeker asked.

"Nothing."

"Can I have some?"

"No."

"Please!"

"It's ale, lass. A human drink. You wouldn't like it."

"Yes I would!"

Roderick sighed, seeing he may as well let her have a taste. He fetched a straw from the bar, dropping it into the froth and returning to the corner. He brought the tankard to the crack, Skyseeker's muzzle pressing against the sliver as he angled the end of the straw towards her. She pursed it between her buck teeth, taking a noisy slurp. Just like him, her enthusiasm grew with each sip, Roderick having to pull the mug back when she refused to stop.

"Steady on, lass," he chided. "drink it too fast and you'll-"

Skyseeker belched through the gap, Roderick dispelling the stench with a wave of his hand.

"Bleh! So bitter!" she complained, smacking her lips together. "Feel even more thirsty now. Want another sample."

"As long as you pace yourself," he grumbled, Skyseeker reaching impotently out of the crack with her paw. He resumed watching the musicians, offering Skyseeker a sip every now and then, if only to keep her occupied so she didn't draw unwanted attention. He wondered how much tolerance a Skaven had for alcohol, and if he wasn't making a terrible mistake indulging the rat woman.

Soon the innkeeper gestured for his attention, gesturing to the back wall, where a passage led off deeper into the building. "Room's ready stranger," he said, sliding a key onto the bar-top. "First one on the left. Bathe well."

"My thanks," Roderick called back, turning to the crack. "You catch all that, lass?"

"Be there in jiffy!" she hissed. "Need to plan escape routes first."

With that, her eyeball swept away, Roderick able to pick up her scurrying as she navigated the wall's interior. Shaking his head, he retrieved his key, moving towards the passage.

He turned into a long hallway, the music fading into a comfortable backdrop. Candlelight flickered across half a dozen doors, three to a side, the furthest on the right the only one that was open, the sounds of clanging pots and pans spilling through the gap. That was likely the kitchen.

Roderick pushed the key into his assigned room, the lock turning with a click. Inside was a modest space, if a little cramped, with a bunk on one wall and an empty tub on the other, the receptacle made up of vertical planks of wood, rather than the traditional ceramics he'd expected, making it have more in common with a sauna tub. A faucet was suspended over the bath, mounted to the wall alongside two valves, one blue and one red. There were bars of soaps and cleaning oils placed on a nearby shelf.

In the middle of the space was a table, and what sat atop it captured his attention. A giant silver platter with a rounded lid rested on its cloth, the scent of smoked meat filling the room. This must be the meal he'd ordered, the scent making his mouth water.

He pulled up one of the chairs, tossing his plumed helmet on the bed, working to remove his gauntlets. As much as he wanted to dig in right away, manners dictated that he wait for his companion first, Roderick freeing first his left hand, then the right, giving his clammy palms a flex. Only now was he aware of all the grime he'd accumulated during his travels, Roderick turning his gauntlets over to see dirt and blood splattered across the steel. The innkeep was right, he could use a good wash.

Before long, he heard the telltale panting he'd come to associate with Skyseeker, Roderick glancing at the walls for any gaps she might poke her snout through. He blinked when from between two of the floorboards, a clawed finger broke through, the digit soon followed by a whole paw. The padded hand felt around for the other side of the plank, gripping it tightly and wrenching it to the side. The nails came loose with little pops, the plank lifting away from one end as Skyseeker used her head to leverage it away.

The gap was thinner than the breadth of her muzzle, but once again Skyseeker demonstrated the flexibility of her bones, squeezing her torso through the floorboards, her countless belts catching on the wood. With a twist, she succeeded in squeezing out, flopping onto the ground with a tired look on her face.

"Welcome," Roderick said, gesturing to the platter. "Hungry?"

"Positively," the Skaven replied, climbing into the seat beside him. Her stature put her head at just over the table's level, Roderick smirking as she struggled to peer over the lip.

"Let's see what we have," Roderick announced, gripping the lid by the handle. He pulled it away, exposing an assortment of foods that could have fed a whole family of people. There was an overflowing lump of browned, sliced pork, wisps of steam gently curling away from the meat. Sitting next to it was a generous pile of roasted vegetables, the potatoes and pumpkins sprinkled with crispy herbs. Glass bottles of creamy sauce stood to one side, alongside a whole loaf of toasted bread and a stick of butter.

Skyseeker's mouth was a small 'o' of wonder, the Skaven watching as Roderick picked up a set of provided cutlery. She looked too stunned to speak, perhaps she'd never seen so much food in one place before, or maybe she just didn't know what any of it was.

"This is pork belly," he said, slicing into the meat with his knife, dumping a generous portion onto a plate and sliding it over. "The orangey skin on the side there is very tough. We call it crackling."

She took an experimental bite, her wicked teeth slicing easily into the skin despite his warning. Her expression shifted into awestruck, her face brightening as she chewed loudly.

"Good?" he asked, chuckling as she nodded her head vigorously. While she destroyed her portion, Roderick set aside a handful of vegetables, popping open one of the sauce bottles. He drizzled the steaming pile with gravy, then dug in, his stomach grumbling its approval.

"Wash tha'?" Skyseeker mumbled over a mouthful of food, pointing to the butter.

"That's butter," he explained. "You spread it on that bread there. Supposed to be eaten as an appetizer, but who cares at this point?"

"Bread?" she echoed, sticking her tongue out in disgust. "Bleh. Remember eating man-thing's bread yesternight. Too chewy."

"Unlike my rations, that's freshly toasted bread," he explained, bringing his knife over, the loaf giving off a satisfying crunch as he took off a slice. He smothered it in butter, the crust melting in his mouth as he took a bite.

Convinced by his expression, she took her own sample – Roderick stopping her from using her weeping blade to do so – and while she enjoyed the crust, she wasn't all that fussed over the butter, deigning to eat it dry.

They were mostly quiet during their feast, too busy wolfing down their appetites to speak, but the silence wasn't unpleasant. Just the act of sharing a proper meal for once was a nice experience, practically novel by Roderick's recent standards, and the comfort of four solid walls put him at ease. Even Skyseeker seemed less suspicious of her surroundings.

"You know what we need?" Roderick asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. "More drinks. Want something, lass? Pitcher of water, perhaps?"

"More ale!" Skyseeker answered. "Skaven needs refreshment."

Shrugging, Roderick stood up, the chair squeaking as he pushed it out of the way. Locking Skyseeker in the room, he hurried back to the bar, ordering a bottle of beer that the two of them could share.

Balancing two tankards in his other hand, he made his way back, finding that Skyseeker had devoured over half of the platter in his absence, the little Skaven showing no signs of slowing down. He'd expected her to be paunchy as a result of her appetite, but at a glance her stomach was still flat and lean. It was as though she was burning off all the calories she was putting on.

"Take it slow on the beer, lass, seriously" Roderick said, placing a tankard in front of her, pouring her drink until the foam reached the rim. "It's not a competition."

"Why can't it be?" she asked, knocking the drink back until half of it was gone, only pausing so she could take a breath. "Bet three warpstone Roderick can't match thirst."

"Oh-ho, you want a drinking game?" he chuckled, pouring his own. "As you wish. Whoever concedes first sleeps on the floor. Winner gets the bed."

"Deal!" she snickered. "Man-thing has no chance."

Not wanting to lose face, he sculled his beer in the time it took Skyseeker to finish off her first, the Skaven blinking up at him in awe. She quickly masked her reaction by slurping at her tankard, droplets of beer dripping down her muzzle. When she put her drink back down, a moustache of foam was plastered on her face, Roderick laughing as she wiped it away.

"This all very strange," Skyseeker began, spearing a slice of roast onto a claw. "In Skavenblight, whenever I eat things, always felt… exposure. Enemies always watching and plotting to steal." She devoured the meat, tilting her muzzle up at him. "But with you, Roderick, I feel… not like that. Makes Skaven think of… what? Why you smiling?"

"Because you said my name properly for the first time," he chuckled. "That ale must be going right through you."

He wasn't mocking her, but she seemed to take his words as a challenge, gripping her drink in both paws. They shared another round, pint for pint, Skyseeker smacking her gums together when she finished. His belly was cold with ale, the bitter taste on his tongue complementing the sensation.

"As I was saying, before I was RUDELY interrupted," Skyseeker continued, taking the bottle and refilling their tankards. "is that, what's stranger- er, is no rat before Roderick treated me this way-way. You give kindness when rats would give death-stabs. Thought niceness was stupid until… until… Hey! Where food gone?"

There was only a slice of bread left on the platter, Roderick offering it to her when she stared at it like she was a starved wolf eyeing up a chicken. He may have Skyseeker beaten on the drinking front, but she could put away the pounds like they were nothing.

"Perhaps I should have bought a meal for three," Roderick mumbled, lifting his tankard. "Oh well."

"Kitchen raid time!" Skyseeker shouted, spilling some of her drink as she took a draw. She set it down hard, tracing the rim with a claw as she hoisted a dagger into the air. "Grab all the food and ale, yes-yes. Share some with man-thing friend of course."

"Appreciate the offer, but I don't think that's a good idea," Roderick replied. "Seems like decent fold run this establishment, let's not spoil the mood by robbing them."

"Oh, Roderick, you worst friend," she grumbled. "Never like my schemes."

"Just looking out for you, lass."

"That's it! That's what's confusing me!" she exclaimed, gesturing to him with her tankard, spilling some of the ale onto the table. "Why you look out for Skyseeker? Roderick like Skaven or something?"

"Well… I suppose you could say that I like you," he stammered "I've not had many people I can be so… open with before. It's nice."

"I see," Skyseeker mumbled, finishing off her drink. She slammed her tankard down, Roderick blinking as she poked him on the arm. "Another!"

Realising he'd been staring at her, he refilled their drinks, raising his tankard to her as they drank together. They downed one round, then another, Roderick laughing when Skyseeker started to doze off, almost slipping off her chair at one point. She snapped back into the present when he gave her a playful nudge, tapping his drink to hers and sculling it without waiting for her.

"Man-thing cheats!" she growled, grimacing when she swallowed a shot of ale. "M-Must have given Skaven more potent cup! Where's the food gone?"

"You ate it, remember?" he asked, setting his empty tankard down. "Keep up, lass, you're lagging."

It looked like each drink was causing her physical pain. She relented, slamming a fist onto the table, the plates and cutlery bouncing with the impact. "Arrgh! You take victory, Roderick. Stupid man-thing and his stupid man-thing ale. Bet you not so good if we had to share warpstone!"

"Hey, it was your idea to challenge me," he said, chuckling for no particular reason. "I just… encouraged you to raise the stakes."

"I'm going on raid!" she exclaimed, bracing herself against the table as she stood, the Skaven smashed beyond belief. When she set off towards the door, her tail waving around lazily behind her, her foot got caught on the leg of her chair, and she slipped, slamming face-first onto her plate, which happened to be covered in excessive amounts of gravy.

"My eyes!" she yelped, cradling her face in her paws, her pink nose covered in sauce. "Send help!"

"Ouch. You alright?" he asked, taking her by the shoulder, the Skaven swaying on the spot.

"Just dandy… ish," she giggled, her tongue snaking out to lick her chops, the gravy sticking to her muzzle in clumps. "Ale making Skaven feel all… buzzy. Must be man-thing equivalent of warpstone. Skaven likey~"

Her tail whipped to the left, sending her empty tankard flying across the room, Roderick wincing as it made a loud crashing sound against the wall. Perhaps a drunk Skyseeker wasn't such a good idea in hindsight. But as long as he kept her confined within the room, he should be able to contain whatever chaos she might ensue.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, leading her toward the bathtub, her light frame easy enough to support. He turned the hot water on, testing the temperature with his finger to make sure it wasn't scalding.

"Wassthis?" Skyseeker asked, leaning on the rim of the tub, her red eyes watching the water level rise.

"Might as well give you an all over, you're covered in what appears to be corn, and Sigmar knows what else."

"You want Skaven to bathe!?" she asked. "Only thing I bathe in is success!" She dipped a paw into the tub, clicking her front teeth together. "Hmm… it is very warm-hot. Screw it."

She began stripping off her disguise, the tarp piling around her ankles as she discarded the heavy clothing. Next she shrugged off her tattered cloak, the cloth flitting away to reveal her dark fur. Like a woman discarding a bath robe, she flung the cloak aside, Roderick clearing his throat as she stood there in just her sling and loincloth.

He turned around, giving her some privacy, hearing the Skvaen unclip her many belts and pockets. After dumping those, there was a loud splashing sound, Roderick feeling water on his back. She must have divebombed straight in.

"Ooohh, now this is nice-nice," Skyseeker sighed, Roderick taking a peek to make sure she hadn't hurt herself. Her modesty was still covered by her sling, thankfully, the Skaven dunking her head into the water, her black fur becoming waterlogged. She threw her muzzle back after a moment, droplets of water flinging across the room, her fur so heavy it clung to her back and shoulders, further accentuating her athletic build.

Careful to avert his eyes, Roderick walked over, the tap squeaking as he turned the flow off. "Looks like they only gave us the one bar of soap," he said, appraising the cleaning oils provided to them. He grinned when Skyseeker submerged herself again, the Skaven blowing bubbles in the water. Her ears were the only thing not submerged, the little membranes twisting in his direction. "Try to save some for me, lass."

"You got it, stinky!" she chimed, reemerging to flash him a toothy grin. She watched him as he moved away, stacking their plates and cutlery together and setting them on the platter, Skyseeker whistling that awful tune again as she started running her padded hands through her damp fur.

"Uh, man-thing," she began. "What's soap, and how does Skaven use it?"

"It's that white bar on the shelf there, and you just scrub it against yourself. Don't you have soap in Skavenblight? Actually, don't answer that. Dumb question."

"Need demonstration," she chimed, covering her moth as she began to snicker. "Can… Can man-thing help?"

"You… want me to wash you?" he asked, feeling heat in his face again. Damn it, why was he getting so easily flustered? Perhaps he'd had too much to drink himself…

"Is that not what man-things do?" she asked. "Skaven bathe together all the time."

"Considering how feral you all are, I find that hard to believe. Besides, didn't you just say you don't bathe?"

"Just shut your hole and do it, man-thing!"

He supposed she was still clothed, so he didn't have to worry about things getting weird. "Very well," he said. "Just let me get these vambraces off. Don't want them getting rusty."

She chittered in amusement, Roderick shooting her a suspicious look across the room. She only laughed like that when she had a little scheme going, or perhaps it was simply a result of all the ale she'd drunk.

Setting his bracers down, he made his way over, crouching behind the Skaven as she turned her back to him, passing the bar of soap over her shoulder.

He took it, his hand brushing her soft paw as he did, Roderick dunking the bar into the water. He started off on her shoulder, sliding his fingers down her toned bicep, feeling her firm muscles twitch as he touched her. She was clamming up, bundling herself in her arms as though the water had suddenly run cold, Roderick remembering that in her very first moments of living, she had almost been eaten by her sibling. Since then, she had never let anyone lay a hand or paw on her, and the fact she was enduring his close proximity was a good step in the right direction.

Skyseeker's fur was in a state. It was mangled and covered in filth, globs of dark fluid seeping away as he spread the lather. She hadn't been lying when she said she only bathed in success, which probably meant piles of trash in her culture.

He moved over to her other arm, kneading the soap into her developed shoulders on his way over. She was built like a swimmer, her porcelain flesh just soft enough to be malleable, while still retaining all the muscle groups that gave her the dexterity one of her profession demanded.

He washed away more grime from her dark coat, the bathwater turning brown around her. He raised her paw by the wrist, making sure he scrubbed at the underside of the limb, Roderick frowning as he encountered resistance. Near her elbow joint, her short fur had tangled into a knot, Roderick able to see the individual strands pulling away from her flesh. It looked painful, but she had never uttered a complaint about it before.

"Your fur's all twisted," he grumbled, Skyseeker watching as he rummaged through the shelf of bottles. "Let's see here… ah ha!"

He held up a short hair comb, an unspoken question in the Skaven's eyes as she watched him bring the plastic teeth closer. He elected to let the comb do the explaining, swiping it across her coat. When he brushed across the tangled fur, Skyseeker grumbled, Roderick stroking against the clump from different angles until the hairs started to untangle themselves.

"This is weird!" she complained, but whether she was talking about being groomed, or by the way he was combing her, he couldn't tell. Maybe it was a combination of both.

"Just hold still," he grumbled, holding her shoulder so she stopped twisting away. "It might hurt a little, but it'll feel much better after, trust me."

"Fine…"

Her tail flicked across the walls of the tub as he worked out the knot, finally able to comb across once it had come loose. He found another clump on her shoulder, and he worked that one out next, Skyseeker letting him manipulate her body so he could get the right angle. This one was much worse than the last, Roderick able to see a patch of her underlying pink skin near the root of the knot. Some of her fur must have torn loose after so much tension had built up there. Was she not in serious pain? Perhaps she was, but had come to the point she was no longer bothered by it.

"I don't think I can save this one," he said, reaching for his dagger. "Hold still."

She flashed him a sceptical look as he brought his knife down, slicing the knot away at the base, the Skaven gasping in surprise. The result was immediate, her skin slowly falling away to rest in its natural position, the tension melting with it, if her blissful expression was any indication.

"Change mind," Skyseeker sighed, trembling as he combed against the grain of her coat in search of more knots. "Weird is good-good…"

"It's a miracle you've gone on for this long," he commented, the Skaven bending forward so he could work at her upper back, using his free hand to untangle the next clump. "If I ever got a knot in my hair I'd have to stop immediately."

"That's because dumb man-thing's weaker than Skaven," she answered. "Skaven toleration for pain much higher! Eeek! Not so hard!"

"Sorry," he said, stifling a chuckle at her immediate contradiction. She sucked in a breath as he worked out the tension in her back, running his hand through her wet fur as he trailed lower. The flare of her hips was all the more pronounced at this angle, the dimples of her cheeks hidden just beneath the waterline. Even with the distortion of the water, he could see how pert they were, like two softballs full of springy muscle.

"What you see, man-thing?" Skyseeker asked, snapping him out of his peeping.

"W-What? Oh, you mean the knots? Just a few more here…"

"Thank you, Roderick," she mumbled as he cut another clump loose, stowing his knife away once he was done. "Feel much better now-now."

"Glad to hear it. Now it's on to phase two."

He retrieved a bottle of shampoo from the shelf, upending it onto his palm, rubbing his hands together until they were crowded with suds.

"What's phase two?" Skyseeker asked, eyeing his hands over her shoulder.

"Shampoo. This'll wash out all that crap you've been lugging around. It's meant for hair, but fur's basically the same thing. I think."

He delved his fingers into her coat, starting at her neck. Her fur was so fine, the strands indiscernible from another at a touch, almost making it feel like soft velvet. Her tension seemed to have melted away along with her tangled fur, Skyseeker slowly relaxing with each stroke of his fingers, her head lolling forward as he worked the suds in deep.

As he trailed down to her pinched waistline, she twitched, her tail batting against his arms as he rid her of the clinging muck. Like a dog wagging its tail, it must mean she was excited, though it was starting to get in the way of his work…

Skyseeker let slip a squeak as he grabbed her appendage, holding it aside as he traced the dimple of her spine, the Skaven shuddering as he ran his hands down her lithe figure.

"Sorry, did that hurt?" he asked, watching as the tip of her tail coiled around his wrist.

"N-No," Skyseeker sighed. "D-Don't pull tail, makes Skaven feel… strange."

She didn't elaborate on what that exactly meant, and Roderick didn't ask, his hands trailing closer towards her flared hips, her tail releasing him after a moment. He skirted the spot where her tail joined to her lower back, noting that her dark coat trailed up the appendage a few inches before transitioning into pink, scaley flesh.

Cupping a hand in the water, he washed the suds from her back, Skyseeker shivering as the filth trailed away. It was a bit of an effort using just his hands, but soon her fur was shiny and clean.

"Poosham smells funny," she mumbled, twisting her neck round to give her shoulder a sniff.

" Shampoo," he corrected. "I don't know how you can pronounce so many words wrong, lass."

"Man-thing tongue has stupid way of speaking," she snapped. "Do front now!"

She displayed remarkable flexibility as she bent herself backwards over the lip of the bathtub, her body conforming into a smooth arch. The movement inadvertently pushed out her bust, giving Roderick a view right down her cleavage.

"If you insist," he replied, averting his eyes. He skirted round to her left, squeezing out another glob of shampoo onto his hand. Her abdominal muscles flexed as she presented her flat stomach to him, Roderick reaching over to rub the lather into her belly. Hopefully, she did not mean for him to wash her whole front…

He could feel the channels of a burgeoning six-pack, hidden beneath her silky coat, feeling tough muscles fight back against his questing digits. The Skaven flinched with every minute movement, apparently quite ticklish, her upper torso twisting while her waist remained still. She was so sinewy, her abs shifting in such a way that he was mesmerized by their flowing movements, the way her wet fur clung to her skin only accentuating her form.

He perked an eyebrow, noting that she had a belly button, tracing the navel with a finger, Skyseeker giggling as he let his curiosity get the better of him. The lines between exploring her and washing her were starting to blur now, Roderick skirting her mound and making small circles with his thumbs. So many parts of her was similar to a human, and he wondered where else she might be familiar…

Trying to refocus, he ran his hands over her pinches waist, pushing the lather into her sternum next. Her bust was still contained in that dirty sling she always wore, but the fabric was soaked through thanks to her earlier cannonball, Roderick just able to see through the cloth. Like the rest of her, her breasts looked to be wholly covered in her luscious fur, the pair of mounds rising and falling as Skyseeker took in deep breaths.

"Uhm, all done here," he stammered, Skyseeker watching him through lidded eyes as he pulled away, the thin lines of red tracking him as he moved behind her again. Was that disappointment he saw in her gaze? He wasn't sure…

He cupped the back of her head, Skyseeker so relaxed he had to lift her skull back above her shoulders of his own accord, Roderick kneading his soapy palms into her hair next – or the fur on top of her head, to be precise. Roderick gave her scalp a light massage, the Skaven smiling as she sunk deeper into the water. It looked like she was melting into a puddle. She was always so on edge, always convinced her enemies were just around the next corner, and it was amusing to see her so relaxed, so trusting to let him touch her.

Her ears flicked as his fingers brushed them, Roderick taking one into his palm, the fur covering the little dish-shaped protrusion giving it a thin, pleasant texture. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger, and Skyseeker's eyes blazed open, her tail sitting up as straight as an arrow.

He went to apologise, but the Skaven cocked her head, encouraging him to keep going, Roderick all too happy to oblige. He took care not to put too much pressure on them, as they were very sensitive, judging by her reaction just now.

He moved to her other ear, using his free hand to run the suds down her long skull, his digits passing between her large eyes. He paused when he heard a strange noise fill the room, Skyseeker slowly opening her eyes to give him a questioning look.

"Are you… doing that?" he asked, Skyseeker glancing away from him.

"Yes… I mean no! No…"

He gave her a knowing look, one she pretended to ignore, Roderick resuming his washing with a grin. A few strokes down her forehead later, and the noise returned, Skyseeker's eyelids fluttering, its source unmistakable. He could see her lips pursing over her buck teeth, the little sounds she made suggesting she was grinding them together. What was the equivalent of a rat purring called?

Bruxing, that was it.

Feeling bold, he rested her muzzle in his palms, using his thumbs to stroke the suds into her cheeks. He could feel the dense muscles surrounding her jawbone, much more powerful than those on a human. She could probably chomp straight through bone with those wicked incissors of hers.

He moved further down her long face, the whiskers bridging the end of her snout brushing his hands. Wetting his palm, he wiped the lather across her button nose, Skyseeker giving him a strange look.

"That tickles!" she giggled, batting his hand away. It was such an odd noise coming from the rodent assassin, but one that he found pleasant to listen to.

"That about does it, you can rinse yourself off," he said. He expected her to move herself below the tap, but instead of doing that, Skyseeker dunked her head below the water again, spraying droplets towards Roderick's face when she resurfaced.

There was a folded towel placed beside the tub, and Roderick passed it over, Skyseeker stroking the fabric as she stepped out of the bath. After he explained that it was not for petting, but for drying off her fur, she got the picture, wiping herself down, drips of water pattering against the floor.

Once she was dry, she turned to face him, Roderick unable to help but admire her new look. The bath had done wonders for her fur, her coat so fine and silky, seeming to shine as the strands caught on the candlelight. With all the dirt and knotted clumps gone, her body was almost flawless, Roderick finding himself wishing he could touch that fur now that it was fluffy and dry.

Damn it, what was wrong with him? He should know better than to think of Skyseeker that way. She was a Skaven, for Sigmar's sake. A fine companion, yes, but a spawn of Chaos nonetheless…

"Roderick's turn!" she chimed, bringing him back to the present.

"For what?"

"For bath, stupid! Man-thing reeks more than Skaven do."

"Oh, of course."

Not wanting to wash in Skyseeker's filthy water, he reached into the tub and pulled the plug, the grime gurgling away into the drain. As he refilled the tub with clean, steaming water, Roderick began stripping off his armour, Skyseeker giving him a curious look as he fiddled with his sabatons. He worked one leg free, then the other, giving his toes a wiggle as he planted them on the cool floor. She seemed to find his feet especially strange, cocking her head towards them, though she didn't voice any observations.

He set his leg armour aside, then pulled off his mail skirt, exposing the leather pants he wore beneath. Last came the cuirass, Roderick feeling a sense of liberation at finally getting out of the tin suit for a small while.

As he began to unbutton his tunic, he realised Skyseeer wasn't affording him the same privacy as he had for her, her crimson eyes examining him from feet to face, then back again.

"Well?" he asked. "Turn around, lass."

"What-What? How can Skaven wash man-thing if turned about?"

They both shared a collective moment of confusion. "You… want to wash me?" he asked. "Thank you, but that's not necessary."

"Roderick cleaned Skaven, now Skaven cleans Roderick. Courteous!"

"You don't have to feel indebted to me," he replied, shifting from foot to foot. "I can wash myself well enough."

"I want to do it!" she exclaimed, stamping down with a paw-shaped foot. "Man-thing always doing kindness things, Skaven wants to give back. Need to learn secrets to kindness, and practice makes perfect! Yes-Yes!"

"I… very well. But turn around while I get in."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Skyseeker rolled her eyes dramatically, then looked away, her tail waving behind her. While she wasn't so bothered about wearing waterlogged clothes, Roderick only had the one set of undergarments, and he'd rather not chafe his privates when they got moving tomorrow.

He slipped out of his tunic and hose, then fumbled with his underwear, checking to make sure Skyseeker was still facing away from him. He kicked off his briefs, completely nude as he stepped into the bath. When he glanced back at the Skaven, he saw that she had produced one of her knives, using its reflective surface to peer at him, a conniving smile on her face.

"Hey! I told you not to look!"

"You said turn around, and as you can see, Skaven is turned around. Roderick should have chosen words better."

His cheeks flushing, he covered up his privates, lowering himself into the hot water. He picked up the discarded bar of soap bobbing on the surface, scrubbing it under his arms and ribs.

He heard the pitter-patter of Skyseeker's feet as she moved closer, Roderick covering his junk with his thigh, hoping the soap bubbles would give him enough privacy from her prying eyes. Was it just curiosity that was driving her, or was there some ulterior motive behind her actions?

"Tables have turned, it seems!" Skyseeker chittered, taking up the shampoo bottle. Copying his example, she squirted a generous amount onto her paws, rubbing them together as she approached him from behind.

"You don't have to do my whole body," he said, flinching as her paws slapped loudly onto his shoulders. "Unlike you, I'm not covered head to toe in fur."

"Beg to differ," she replied. He felt her warm breath on his neck as she leaned closer, her paws making circles on his back. "Man-thing covered in small-tiny furs. Fascination…"

"Just worry about this bit," he continued, gesturing to the top of his head. His hair was a dusky shade like coffee beans, its length level with his shoulders, Roderick bracing himself as her fingers delved into it. Her claws were no joke, one wrong move and she would slice him up, the fact she was a clumsy drunk making him unsure about all this.

His worries were for nothing, Skyseeker taking great care to be gentle with her claws, putting only the faintest amount of pressure on them, their sharp points scratching his scalp with all the lightness of a feather. Just as he had done with the comb, she raked her paws with the grain of his hair, a tingling sensation rolling through his scalp as she spread the shampoo over his head.

Roderick caught himself leaning back, her furry paws so soft and silky. It felt like she was massaging him with a pair of satin gloves. He was so relaxed that it took him a moment to realise it wasn't the lip of the tub he was leaning against, but Skyseeker's front, her flesh providing as much cushion as a down pillow. He stammered out an apology when he realised her breasts were touching his upper neck, Roderick able to feel their firmness through the sling she wore, but all Skyseeker did in response was smile down at him, continuing to wash his hair as she switched the subject.

"Roderick, you remember breed… wench, on street?" she asked, poking his ears just as he had to hers.

He was too out of it to voice a reply. Her claws felt like a comb in their own right, and the fact someone else was washing his hair was just a nice sensation. He elected to prompt her on with a wave of his hand.

"Remember how you said you like breeders who are… not old? Have any other preferences?"

"Why the sudden interest?" he murmured, shivering as those tingles started spreading down his spine.

"Man-thing breeder's… confusing," she replied. "Skaven Warlords kill for breeding rights, but Roderick has picky needs. Want to understand."

"Don't call me picky," he grumbled. "I'm simply beyond the point of bedding wenches in exchange for coin."

"So you don't want to breed?"

"I-I never said that," he said, the insinuation making him stammer. Women of his kind hardly ever broached the subject of sex, and it took months of courting just to be able to even mention it in passing. Skyseeker may be a naïve Skaven, but she was a woman, and hearing her discuss it so openly was a little off-putting.

"I'm simply on the lookout for a more… stable relationship," he finished. "A decent woman, one with a kind heart, that's what I prefer."

"What about more physical preferences?" Skyseeker pressed. "To take a completely random example: you like shorter breeders, or tall ones? This hypothetical example, of course."

"I've honestly not thought much about it. Haven't had the time to, what with all that's been happening lately."

"Then take guess! Say I had pistol to your head, what would Roderick pick?"

"By Sigmar, a pistol? This is quite the hypothetical! I suppose I'd pick someone shorter if I had to. Satisfied?"

"Yes-Yes… Good…" Skyseeker muttered, resuming her washing of his hair. When it was thoroughly lathered, she cupped a paw into the water, rinsing the suds away, Roderick still able to feel her claws stroking his hair, despite the fact she'd stopped.

"Gimme," she chimed, Roderick opening his eyes to see her plucking the soap from his hand. She began washing down the rest of him, spreading the soap over his back, Roderick feeling the spongy pads of her paws as she slid them over his skin.

The combination of her teasing claws and her tickling wet fur was filling his mind with white noise, Roderick too deep in a haze to tell her he was perfectly capable of washing himself. When she finished his back, she walked her fingers across his ribs, focusing on his chest next, pressing the pads of her fingers into his pectorals, as though testing his firm muscles. Though he had lost some weight during his time in the dungeons, his recent endeavours had left him fitter than he had ever been, Skyseeker peering over his shoulder to run her eyes over his strange anatomy. Strange to her, of course, she'd never seen a human as exposed as he was before.

"Roderick is stronger than most Skaven," she whispered, her red eye filling the side of his peripheral as she leaned on his shoulder, her fluffy neck tickling him. She lowered her hands to his stomach next, her fingers prodding at the channels of his washboard abs. "Hard strength concealed behind soft flesh, intriguing! Another of Roderick's schemes Skaven has missed…"

Her tone implied she was impressed, Roderick tensing as she drew a lazy line across his stomach with her index claw. He had been washed by other people before, as a General he had been allotted many perks, one of which being a group of consorts who bathed him regularly between battlefronts. He'd shared many a bath with those of the fairer gender, so why was all this tension building up inside him? Why did being touched by this rat woman make him feel so light headed?

She brushed his groin area, the conspicuous bulge he was sporting barely hidden beneath the dirtying water. He needed to put a stop to this, this wasn't right.

"Hey!" Skyseeker complained, Roderick lifting her arms by her wrists. "What Roderick doing?"

"I'm as washed as I'll ever be," he replied. "Fetch me the towel, will you?"

"Oh. I-I knew that! Was just making sure you were… clean, yes-yes…" She scurried behind him and out of view, Roderick's world blotting out as she threw the towel over his face. He scrubbed down his wet hair, giving Skyseeker a turn around gesture with his hand as he dried his shoulders.

Rolling her eyes once more, she looked away, picking over the leftovers on the platter to occupy herself. This time he made doubly sure she wasn't peeking, quickly stepping out of the tub and fetching his briefs once he was dry.

As he buttoned up his tunic, there was a loud thunk, Roderick blinking in surprise as he turned around.

There was no sign of the noise's source, or Skyseeker for that matter, Roderick glancing about the empty room warily. The solitary window was shut, the curtains drawn over it, and the door handle was still in the locked position. Scratching his head, he moved to check under the bed, then the table, not really expecting to see her there but looking anyway. Where had she gone?

"Skyseeker?" he asked, waiting for a reply. He heard a soft grumble behind him, then the short squeaking noises he'd come to associate with the Skaven's snoring. His eyes fell to the floorboards, the one she'd pried open slightly out of line with the rest. Leaning down on his knees, he lifted it away, a pair of crimson eyes staring up at him from between the dark gap.

"Skyseeker? Why are you in the floor? Get out of there."

"Napping!" she chittered, waving a dismissive paw. "Leave Skaven alone."

"We've got a perfectly good room here, and you choose to sleep with the insects?"

"Floor like burrow," she replied. "And Roderick won competition, room your reward."

"Competition? Oh, right, the drinking game. I was only joking about that, lass, you can have the bed, I'll make do on the floor."

"Nonsensical! Man-thing won, Skaven lost, is only fair Skaven gets burrow."

"You're not sleeping in that tick-infested floor on my account," he chided. "Especially not after we just cleaned you."

"Well where will YOU sleep? Roderick can't fit in floor!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sensing this was getting neither of them anywhere. Perhaps he should have bitten the bullet and bought a room for two after all. He considered their situation for a second, a compromise soon coming to mind.

"We could… share the bed, lass."

Skyseeker opened her mouth in a mix of surprise and horror. "Scandalous!" she exclaimed. "Man-thing can't SLEEP with Skaven! W-What would Horned Rat say?"

"Keep your voice down," he hissed. "You want the whole tavern to hear you? If you don't want to share, at least sleep on top of the floor, not beneath it."

"Hmm…" Skyseeker mused, chewing on a claw, fixing him with a thoughtful expression. She mumbled something about the Horned Rat again, then seemed to make up her mind.

"Man-thing is very warm," she mumbled. "Would make nap-time warm too. I accept your deal, Roderick."

He took her paw, guiding her out of the floor and towards the bed. Usually he would sleep in just his briefs, but for politeness's sake he decided to keep his tunic and pants on.

He paused by the mattress, his heart humping a little faster in his chest for whatever reason. Skyseeker seemed to mirror his hesitation, the Skaven extending her arm to touch the bedsheets, all while staying as far away from the mattress as possible.

"What is this thing?" she asked.

"It's a mattress, made from cotton," he explained, lifting the covers away by the corner. "Which is a kind of fluffy plant. That there is the pillow, also made of cotton, but stuffed with goose feathers"

"Man-thing nests… very soft," she mumbled, stroking the pillow like it was some kind of house pet.

"What do Skaven beds look like?" he asked.

"Some prestigious rats fill nests with blankets, but most sleep in burrows full of rocks. Good for the spine!"

"Do Skaven weave blankets?"

"Of course not, stupid! Stolen from other nests!"

"Which are themselves stolen from cities up on the surface, I imagine," he mused, slipping beneath the sheets, the insulated covers holding back the cool air. Skyseeker followed his example, swinging one long leg onto the bed, then the other, Roderick shuffling away to give her room. The bed was a single, and even with the Skaven's smaller frame, there was barely enough room for the both of them, his left arm dangling over the edge of the mattress.

He recoiled when her winding tail batted him in the face, the Skaven wriggling on the spot as she tried to get comfortable. The indent he created in the mattress meant she found herself being pulled towards him, her fluffy coat brushing against his arm.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, tugging her tail under an arm, the appendage wiggling like a snake as she tried to control its erratic movements.

"It's alright," he mumbled, turning on his side so he could make more room. Once she was settled in, she threw the covers over the both of them, the combined heat of their bodies already creating a nice pocket of warmth.

Without warning, Skyseeker shifted, Roderick watching her discard her cloak, dropping it off the edge of the mattress, exposing her shiny black fur. He'd found out firsthand how soft her coat was to touch, but now that it was clean and dry, she felt even more fuzzier than normal, and his mind wasn't sure whether to be grateful or flustered that his arms and chest were unable to stop coming into contact with her.

"Man-thing very warm," she muttered, sharing none of his prudishness as she shuffled closer, her back firmy pressing against his chest. "Reminds Skaven of… hot things."

"Uh, thanks?" he stuttered, holding his arms up, not sure where to put them now that she was so close. Her scent rose to his nose, so potent now that there was nowhere else for it to go. She smelled faintly of the soap he'd used earlier, but there was a deeper, more rich scent hidden behind it, one that his brain associated with coffee, of all things, almost earthy, but not in a bad way.

"D-Don't smell Skaven," she grumbled, perhaps hearing him sniffing the air.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Just don't!" she said, not elaborating further. Shrugging his shoulders, he promised he wouldn't use his nose, pulling the sheet a little higher over his shoulder. He tried closing his eyes, but with her tail constantly flicking against his legs, and the compromising state he was currently in, sleep was the last thing on his fretting mind.

"Y-You can touch Skaven," Skyseeker added, seeing him struggle to find a spot for his arms.

"Oh, I-I wouldn't… Are you sure?"

"Touch, don't smell, that's Skaven's rules for nap time."

Slowly hooking an arm across her stomach so as not to startle her, those flat muscles in her belly flexed as he hugged her. With her back to him, he couldn't see her expression, but he had an inkling her eyes were angled straight ahead. She was as tense as he was.

"This is weirdest thing Skaven has ever done before," Skyseeker commented, and for once he was glad for her tactless nature. Her blunt statement seemed to melt through the lingering tension like a knife, Roderick chuckling as he eased down onto the pillow they were sharing.

"Which part? The fact you're sharing a bed with me, or that you're in a bed at all?"

"The… first one. No! The second! Maybe both. Always try to find own private nest to sleep before. Breeder sharing nap with other Skaven always makes breeder… nervous."

"I can imagine," he replied. "Are you… nervous now?"

"… No," she replied after a moment. "Should be, but not. Not know how Skaven comes to that conclusion."

"Maybe because I'm not a Skaven?" he suggested.

Skyseeker didn't reply, curling her paws beneath the pillow. As the minutes ticked by, she seemed to grow more relaxed, gently easing into his chest, perhaps attracted to his body heat. Likewise, Roderick felt the prospect of sleep slowly becoming easier to grasp, his eyelids soon growing heavy as his body registered the fact it was surrounded by soft sheets and soft furs on all sides.

"I-I like you, Roderick!" Skyseeker suddenly exclaimed, Roderick tilting his head.

"Well that was sudden. Where's this coming from?"

"Before, Roderick said you like Skyseeker. Wanted to… reciprocation!"

"Oh. Well… thank you," he said, not sure how else to respond. With that, she pushed her head into the crook beneath his chin, seemingly satisfied with his answer. Soon her stomach began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm, the Skaven's breathing slowing as she drifted off.

Roderick closed his eyes, the sensation of his fingers running through Skyseeker's damp fur during the bath echoing through his mind. He remembered how close she'd come to touching his groin area, just the mere recollection of the event making his head spin. Why was he acting this way? Was he so deprived of female company, that he was starting to see Skyseeker in that kind of light? It was borderline heresy to be even considering it, but no matter how much he tried to stave the thoughts off, it was impossible to ignore them for very long, not with the Skaven's soft body pressed up against him.

He needed to get his act together, and fast. Deciding he'd sleep on these troubled thoughts and sort them out in the morning, he settled in, inadvertently pulling Skyseeker a little closer as he let sleep take him.