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)

8. Chapter 8

-xXx-

Roderick rubbed his eyes as he threw off the bedsheets, swinging his bare feet onto the cold floor. Sunlight was bleeding through the slivers between the drapes, drawing bright bands of yellow across the wall and table, the scraps of the hearty meal they'd enjoyed last night still messing its surface.

"Ready for some breakfast lass?" he asked, yawning into a fist. He turned to pat his companion on the arm. "Assuming you're not still full from last night. S-Skyseeker?"

The bed was empty, the Skaven nowhere to be seen. He looked around the room, checking beneath the table, then inside the bath, scratching his chin in confusion. He remembered waking up during the night a couple times, feeling Skyseeker's soft presence bundled up against his chest, so she must have departed recently.

He crouched down to check beneath the floorboard, but again she wasn't there. She must have left, but where, and for what reason? He knew that if anyone was sneaky enough to move about the city undetected, it would be Skyseeker, but he still worried for her all the same.

I'm worried about a Skaven, he thought, shaking his head. Truly strange times for us all.

His jumbled thoughts from last night came flooding back, a part of him briefly wondering what exactly was strange about looking out for a friend. But did friends bathe each other? Only partners or consorts would do such a thing, and Skyseeker was neither of those things. He could have put a stop to her efforts to put her paws on him, but hadn't. What did that make of him?

Trying to dispel these thoughts, he checked the room over one more time, calling out her name, just in case she was napping in the brickwork. There was no reply, Roderick running a hand through his hair as he paced.

She had told him she'd wished to explore the city, perhaps she'd started before he'd woken up. Either that, or she was in the kitchen eating all the food. Perhaps he should make sure it wasn't the latter, then figure out what to do if that wasn't the case.

Pulling on his armour, feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep, he unlocked the door, making his way back into the tavern lobby. The musicians had departed, leaving the stage barren, along with most of the seats and tables. A few patrons still lingered about, including the two elves he'd seen before, one of them glancing up at Roderick has he walked by their table.

The innkeeper was still manning the bar, dressed in the same apron and tunic, looking not in the least bit tired. He must be used to working long nights in this place.

"Morning, stranger," the man greeted, nodding to an empty stool. "Drink? More ale if you're feeling adventurous, apple juice if you're not."

"Juice is fine," Roderick said, sliding out a few corns from his money pouch. The innkeeper placed a mug on the bar-top, Roderick taking an eager sip. The juice was sweet and tasty, quenching his dry mouth.

To the right of the racks of bottles and kegs was a door, and it opened a few moments later, a maid hand dressed in a black and white gown carrying a bowl of soup or porridge in her hands. Neither she or the innkeeper looked like the victims of a kitchen raid, so he could rule out Skyseeker being in the pantry.

"So," Roderick began, leaning on his elbows. "What's been happening around here? Anything interesting going on in the city? "

The innkeeper regarded him for a moment before replying. "Normally I'd charge for gossip, but since you've already paid up, a few words couldn't hurt."

Roderick's smile was thin. At last, he'd seen the limit of the Tilean lust for gold.

"The Skaven invasion's got everyone riled up," the innkeeper added, wiping a mug stain off the counter with a rag. "The militia's not quite enforcing conscription, but there's posters nailed to every wall and door, offering a very fine wage for anyone who signs on. If what I hear about all these wiped-out mercenary bands is true, they'll need every able man they can get if the rats come knocking."

Roderick shifted at the words 'wiped out'. Was he talking about the band he'd been a part of? Had they really been killed to a man? There was no way to be certain, but he still felt a pang of guilt rise up in his chest all the same.

"Is the port still open?" Roderick asked, changing the topic.

"Certainly. We don't call this place Portamaggoire for nothing. If the trade routes were ever cut, city would die a slow death."

"Any special ships coming in lately?"

"Special?" the innkeeper asked. "As in, the Enlightenment herself special? Most interesting ships docking here are caravels, the occasional galley perhaps, why you ask?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting an old friend here, he's sailing in from the Empire. He'll stick out in a crowd. He's a druid, dresses in a big green robe, wears a wreath of sticks on his head. Seen anyone like that?"

"A magician, eh? Let me think. I do recall a mage passing through some time ago, but he came in with a caravan. If he sailed in on Imperial business, you'll have to ask someone at the harbour, afraid ship business doesn't reach this far into town."

The elves seemed to grow interested in their conversation, one of them whispering to the other while pointing in Roderick's direction. He decided to preempt them, leaning an arm on the backrest and waving a hand to get their attention.

"Help you two with anything?" he asked, Roderick taking a moment to look them over in more detail. They wore leather armour from neck to toe, parts of their tunics the same colour as leaves, probably to help camouflage them as they stalked the forests. Like Skyseeker, they wore baggy hoods with long capes, but unlike the Skaven's raggedy fabrics, these elves wore capes of fine linen, a symbol of a spiralling tree weaved into the material. Slung over their backs were quivers of arrows, as well as great bows, the weapons as tall as Roderick was.

The one on the right regarded him with a pair of icy blue eyes, the rest of their face obscured by a cowl. Even in a public tavern, they seemed to value their notoriety.

"Tell us something, manling," the elf began, a male by the tone. "For what reason does a mercenary have to meet with a druid?"

"And what reason do you have to eavesdrop?" Roderick asked back. "Why's it any of your business?"

"Druids are commendable," the other elf added, this one a female. She had eyes that were almost as blue as her male counterpart, but not quite. Apart from that, it was hard to differentiate them, they looked like twins. "They are knowledgable of the world's plight, by manling standards. A common brigand would do well to not disturb a Jade Wizard with his stink."

"His Skaven stink," the male elf added. "You reek of the vermin. Almost thought a rat had stumbled through the door, when you walked in last night."

Roderick sipped at his drink, hiding his hesitation behind the mug. They weren't aware of how close their analogy had been to the truth, thank the Gods, but the comment carried an unspoken warning. If Skyseeker went anywhere near these elves, she would be discovered in an instant. It was a miracle she'd taken to moving through the walls.

"That's because I had to fight my way through the vermintides just to get here," Roderick explained, touching the hilt of his Skaven sword for emphasis. "One tends to get a little messy hacking through rodent after rodent. Not that either of you would know, you take pride in killing from afar, up in your trees and out of harms way."

"I was fighting before you were even born, mayfly," the female snarled, her blue eyes flashing. The male placed his hand on her sleeve, gripping her arm tight.

"Not here, Shessare," he muttered. "Do not let yourself be antagonised."

The female settled back in her seat, glaring daggers at Roderick, who smiled back.

"Don't take that the wrong way," Roderick assured. "I was simply stating the fact that if I were sitting up in a tree, leagues and leagues away from any front line or danger, I'd smell pretty nice too. If anything, I'm complementing you, Shessare."

"Do not speak my name," the elf woman growled. The innkeeper, watching the exchange silently from behind the bar, thumped the counter with a fist, seizing everyone's attention.

"I don't want any trouble inside my tavern, understood? I just mopped, so take it outside if you can't be civil."

"That won't be necessary," Roderick replied, holding up a gauntlet. "The elf asked me a question, and I'll answer it. This druid, Wilfred, he's come to rid me of this country. No offense intended," he added, glancing at the innkeeper. "He's expecting me, so if you've any information to volunteer, speak now, otherwise I'll be on my way."

"What makes you think we know anything of this mage?" the female elf, Shassare, asked.

"Did you hear the part how I mentioned Wilfred wears a wreath? He acquired that from the branches of an Athel Loren Glade Tree. I imagine a pair of elves would be very… attuned, to something like that if it was nearby."

"Perhaps you do know this druid," the male elf mused, clasping his gloved hands together. "He came in on an Imperial wolfship two of your weeks ago – though why it is referred to as a wolf alludes me, crude thing that it is. Considering it's the only one of its kind in town, that should be enough for you to find him."

"Well that's… helpful," Roderick replied, blinking in surprise. "If I know anything about you treefolk, you'd never help someone for free. Or at all for that matter."

"Oh, we aren't helping you, manling," the female interjected. "We are simply letting you march to your death even quicker than you would otherwise. Falsely claiming to be a companion to a friend of the Glade is a tremendous insult. One that would warrant death from afar. We'll be watching."

Roderick took that as his cue to leave. He ordered some breakfast from the innkeeper, then retreated back to his room, feeling the elf's eyes'on his back all the while. It had probably not been in his best interests to antagonise them so, not with Skyseeker under his protection, but what's done is done. He should make haste to Wilfred's ship as soon as possible.

He closed his room door behind him, wondering where he should start searching for Skyseeker. Should he just prowl the streets, hope that she came to him in time? Perhaps he could enlist Wilfred's help, assuming he could convince him he wasn't joking about having a Skaven companion.

As he paced around the room, a measure of panic starting to surface, there was a knock on the door, and a small part of Roderick was sure it would be Skyseeker, summoned back to the tavern through divine intervention. Unfortunately, it turned out to be just a maid hand, delivering the bowl of porridge he'd bought a few minutes ago.

He thanked the woman, the bowl warming his hand through his gauntlet, then moved to take a seat. Halfway between the door and the table, he nearly tripped as his foot caught on something, Roderick peering down to see the floorboard had moved in his absence, and a familiar squeaking sound was whispering through the crack.

"Skyseeker!" he sighed, lifting the board away to expose a groggy rat woman. "Where in the Gods names have you been?"

Skyseeker lifted her head on her slender neck, peering around the room through heavy eyelids, which were crusted with sleep. She looked like the most tired being in all of existence.

"What-What? Skaven been… been right here-here all night." She cradled her temple in her paws. "Oooohh, head-face feel like flames. Put it out!"

"I told you to take it easy on the ale," he chided. She'd only had about half the bottle, how could that wipe her out so hard? Perhaps Skaven couldn't handle their alcohol like humans could, she was almost half his size. His frustration slowly gave way to pity as Skyseeker started mashing her palms across her muzzle, grimacing all the while. "I suppose it's my fault for introducing you to it in the first place. Come on, get up."

"Always stupid man-things fault!" Skyseeker snapped, letting him take her paw into his hand, guiding her out of her hidey-hole. "Rick-rod should know that by now."

"Here," he asked, offering his canteen. "Drink up. You had me worried there, lass. Where did you go?"

When she finished with his canteen, handing it back to him, she looked at everything but his face, mumbling something under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I said not remember," she repeated.

"Is that soright So, you went to bed, got out of bed at some point, left the room, then came back here while I was out in the lobby just now? All that happened, and you don't remember a thing?"

"… Y-Yes? Yes. That what happened, exactly that!"

Roderick groaned, throwing up his hands. "Whatever, never mind all that, lass, we've got bigger problems. This place isn't as safe as I first thought."

"Ah-HA!" Skyseeker exclaimed, holding out a triumphant paw and pointing at herself. "I knew-knew it! 'There's no plots of schemes, we're safe here' – that's what man-thing said before. Now who's the stupid one?"

"Just listen for a moment," he urged, and to his surprise, she did, her ears tracking him as she pursed her lips. She took the threat of new enemies very seriously. "There are elves in the tavern, I was just talking with them, and they smelled you on me. I managed to mislead them, but we need to leave. Grab your things."

"S-Smelled breeder-musk on man-thing?" Skyseeker asked, the notion making the little Skaven flustered. "How… scandalous."

"Never mind that, just get ready to go. They said they'll be watching me, so you'll have to leave by the floors, or walls, or wherever it is that you use to get around."

"Hunted by pointy-ears, how intriguing! Horned Rat will be most impressed when Skaven gives them a good slipping. But first, a quick breakfast!"

"There's no time for that," he chided. "I'll get you something later. Meet me in the alley outside, the one I told you to wait in last night, remember? Avoid the lobby if you can, and keep far away from the elves."

"Don't tell me how to sneak-scurry, fatfeet," she grumbled, pulling on her disguise. "Ready! Let's skedaddle!"

She bent to lift up the floorboard, slipping beneath the wood with a snicker, the board slapping back into place. The pitter-patter of her feet crossed to the far side of the room, and then the Skaven was gone.

Roderick checked the room to make sure he had everything, tidying up a little to hide any evidence of the Skaven's presence. With a little luck, they would mistake the fur clogging the bath drain as hair.

Tucking his helmet under an arm, he walked out into the hallway, making his way to the exit. The two elves were still at the same table as before, Roderick doing his utmost to ignore them as he slid his room key over the bar-top, the innkeeper thanking him and to come visit again.

-xXx-

The streets were a little busier compared to the night before, the early hour meaning very few of the city residents were starting to go about their business. As long as he and Skyseeker didn't dawdle, they should reach Wilfred's ship before the city woke up and became clogged with people.

As Roderick turned to the right, walking into the alleyway flanking the tavern, he found Skyseeker huddled up against the dumpster, head tucked under an arm as she snoozed. She looked like a beggar, the image only furthered by her tattered hood and the heavy awning cover she'd bundled over herself like a quilt. At least none of her Skaven features were exposed, the pedestrians walking along without so much as a word.

He called her name, waiting impatiently as she continued to snore. How could she be so tired all of a sudden? Feeling a little impolite, he nudged her with his foot, Skyseeker awakening with a startled chortle.

"Huh? Wha-? OH, Rick-rod! You took time! Waiting hours for you."

"And I see you've been vigilant in the meantime," he noted.

"So where to next?" Skyseeker asked, stretching her arms over her head. "Fredwil's ship? Man-thing know where it is?"

"Indeed I do. He's somehow gotten his hands on a wolfship, been docked for a few days. I was expecting something a little less conspicuous, but I'm not complaining. Those ships are fast and loaded with guns."

"How does man-thing know this?" she asked, sticking to his side as he began to walk across the street. The sea was to the west, so all they had to do was walk that direction until they reached the port district.

"Those elves I mentioned told me," he answered, Skyseeker glancing up at him, her unspoken confusion clear as day. "They think Wilfred will sort me out once I find him. Wish I could see their faces once that happens. Perhaps we will," he added, checking over his shoulder.

"Not that it bothers me-me, but why did you incur pointy-ears' wrath?" she asked. "Rick-rod knows we have enough enemies already-ready!"

"I've never been one to knuckle down at the words of an elf," he muttered. "Especially ones as pretentious as those two. You should have heard what one of them called themselves. Shessare. Sounds like a Bretonnian dessert or something."

They continued on through the narrow streets, the sounds of boots clocking against the cobbles echoing beyond every twist and turn. While a few of the citizens turned to give Skyseeker curious glances, that was the limit of their suspicions, some even parting to let her walk by uninterrupted. Perhaps they really saw her as a dwarf, and did not wish to get in her way.

"Rick-rod! Think-Think disguise is working!" Skyseeker hissed, Roderick noting she was gluing to his flank at all times. "Ha-Ha! Seeing stupid man-things always makes Skaven laugh."

She seemed more chipper today, their night spent together having done wonders for the both of them. While Roderick had conflicted thoughts about sharing a bed with her, he wondered if she felt the same way. She hadn't brought the event up yet, so neither would he.

"Just try and keep your voice down," he replied, the pair turning down another bend in the street. "The ruse won't last long if people hear you shouting me-me and Horned Rat all the time."

"Then I'll switch back to beard-thing impression! Got lots of practice since last time. Want to hear it?"

"No, thank you," he sighed, his annoyance betrayed by his smirk.

Ten or so minutes of walking later, the streets began to widen, Roderick and Skyseeker finding themselves standing on the edge of a market square. Stalls draped in all manner of colourful awnings filled the space, the men and women stood behind them shouting the prices of their wares. Dozens of people weaved between the stalls, their wide-brimmed hats and long-sleeved tunics shielding them from the rising sun's heat. A few guards stood watch here and there, their long halberds towering above the layers of heads.

"Oh, I completely forgot!" Roderick said, planting a fist in his palm, Skyseeker flinching at the gesture. "You said you wanted to explore the city. Shall we go for a walk? After we get something to eat?"

"W-What about elfy-things?"

"What are they going to do, shoot us out in the street? The guards will deter them from getting in our way, trust me. So what do you say?"

He couldn't help but feel he was asking Skyseeker out on a date, but he quickly reminded himself he was just entertaining her, nothing more.

"Ah, uhm… n-no," Skyseeker mumbled, trying to look at anything but him.

"What? But you said last night that you wanted to explore."

"Time's changed," she replied. "Man-thing city… boring, actually. Best we scurry on quick-quick."

"I don't understand," he said, and now he felt as though he'd just been turned down. "Is this because of the elves?"

"Uh, that too!" she stammered.

"So there's another reason? And that is?"

"N-Nothing! I never said no reasons. Never said anything about exploring city last night while man-thing slept."

"You what?" he asked, spreading his arms out wide. "You went out on a bender? Skyseeker, I told you to keep a low profile!"

"Lies!" she snapped, then looked away sheepishly. "How did man-thing know I went into city?"

"Because you just told me!" he exclaimed. "Lass, this city is full of armed men, what if you'd been discovered?"

"But I wasn't!" she replied. "How many times must I say-speak – Skyseeker is Clan Mors' best assassin."

Roderick tried to utter a reply, stuttered, then gave up, throwing his hands up in frustration. This explained why she hadn't been in the room when he'd woken up, and why she looked so tired when he found her.

"At least tell me you didn't kill anyone," he sighed, bracing himself for her answer.

"Stupid man-thing, always thinking the worst. No kill-stabbing happened, just like I promised."

"Thank Sigmar," he breathed. "And you're certain you weren't discovered?"

"Positively!"

"Then… perhaps this turn of events wasn't as bad as I first thought."

As the words left his lips, he heard a scuffle behind him, Roderick turning to see a pair of guards hauling a man through the square, their gauntlets tucked beneath his arms. The man looked like a merchant, with a green chaperon upon his head, and dressed in a fancy quilted coat. The citizens turned to stare as the guards roughly dragged the merchant away, Roderick able to pick up the tail-end of his babbling as the guards hauled him off.

"-please listen to me! There was a rat! A Skaven is in the city! It was in my shop, please, you must believe me! I have proof, witnesses!"

The guards dragged him around the corner and out of sight, Roderick shooting Skyseeker a frown, the rat woman shrugging in response. "What?" she asked. "Could mean other Skaven in city! Best keep eyes peeled."

"What part of being discreet don't you understand?" he sighed, rubbing his temple with a hand. "What did you do? Why are they hauling that poor man off?

"Poor!" she echoed. "Man-thing deserved what happened. Uhm, not that I would know what happened. Or that anything did happen, yes-yes…"

"You're horrible at lying, lass," he said, prompting her on. She stared up at the sky, refusing to make eye-contact, Roderick shaking his head when she refused to add anything.

"Very well, don't tell me," he grumbled. "probably for the best I don't know what happened anyway. Let's forego exploring and move on, before these Skaven sightings start to spread."

He strolled into the square, Skyseeker hurrying after him. She opened her muzzle to speak, then stopped herself when Roderick flashed her an annoyed look.

As they blended in the crowd, the scent of cooked meat began to hang thick in the air, Roderick following his nose towards its source, soon coming before a stall towards the centre of the market. Behind the countertop was a portable kitchen, the sections of stoves and appliances connected together by brass hinges and cogwheels, reminding Roderick of foldable compartments one might find in a toolbox. The kitchen was open to the sky, letting the smoke rising from the beds of coals dissipate into the air. A pig roasting on a spit was being tended by two men in chef aprons, one of them walking over to address the people lining up.

"Feel like bacon, Skyseeker?" Roderick asked, joining the queue.

"What is bacon, and why are we here?" she asked back. "Thought man-thing said we should be moving on."

"I'm not walking another step on an empty stomach. This shouldn't take a minute," he answered. "And bacon is meat from a pig, by the way, a farm animal."

She licked her front teeth at that, Roderick just able to see her eager expression through the shadow of her hood. After a few minutes, it was their turn in the line, Roderick ordering two serves of meat, then another when he remembered Skyseeker's endless appetite. The chef wrapped his order up in a paper parcel, Roderick handing over a sum of gold in exchange. Next, he located a fruit stand, buying a pair of fresh apples to go with the meat. Meal in hand, they departed the square from the northern side, finding a secluded alleyway where Skyseeker could expose her paws and muzzle away from prying eyes.

Unwrapping the parcel, Roderick handed over a strip of bacon, watching as Skyseeker chewed through the tough meat effortlessly with her sharp teeth. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she swallowed it down, her mouth forming a little o of wonder.

"Palatable!" she exclaimed. "Best meat eaten since ever!"

"Nothing like bacon to start off the morning," he replied, starting on his own piece. The bacon was just under the point of being burned, exactly the way he liked it, the fruit adding a sweet aftertaste.

"Apologising," she suddenly began, Roderick turning to see Skyseeker peering up at him, a dim look in her eyes.

"What?"

"For causing ruckus," she explained, clicking her front teeth together in what might be irritation. "Was not thinking straight last night, which is unlike me – being an intellectual. Not intention to make Rick-rod angry."

"I'm sorry too," he replied. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. Alcohol can make a person do crazy things, especially if they're wet behind the ears. I remember my first night on the town was just as disorderly."

"Oh? Do tell!"

"Well, me and a couple of friends went out to a tavern not unlike the Crippled Gryphon, celebrating something or other. A couple beers in, one of us thinks we should relive our youths and play a game of hide and seek on the street outside – it's a children's game, where a group of people hide while one person tries to find everyone. Anyway, a couple rounds later and I'm trying to hide, and by this point the street's pretty well known, and all the good spots are taken. But then my eyes turn up, and I get the brilliant idea that nobody's going to find me if I'm up on the roof."

"Should have fallen and broken my neck that night, but by some miracle I make it up there, and I settle in behind the chimney, drink in hand. A couple minutes go by, and I hear people shouting my name, telling me that they give up. Not a chance of that, I thought, drunk Roderick's going to win this game. After a suspiciously long while, I peek over the gutter and see my friends have gotten the town guard involved in the search. That should have been my cue to realise people were getting worried, but I've never been one to let victory slip me by."

"I close my eyes for a moment, and next thing, it's dawn. I'd spent the whole night up on that roof, freezing my balls off for some stupid game. My friends were inside, having long given up, and one of them gave me this look, said he was just about to go inform our field commander that I was missing in action."

"Did you tell them where you were sneak-hiding?"

"Not a soul," he chuckled. "And that's what bothered my friends the most in the end. Not the fact I could have actually gone missing."

Skyseeker giggled, failing to suppress a smile. "Would not have told either," she said. "Need hidey place for next game!"

"Needless to say, I'd been drinking quite a lot, and my sense of judgement was pretty far gone by that point. I assume that was the same case with you last night."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped. "Had control of all faculties, like always! Always know where I am, what I am doing."

"So when we… washed each other, slept together, spoke about all those things… that wasn't the ale talking?"

"Ale… may have had some influence," she admitted, staring at the spot between her feet. "Did… man-thing not like bathing? Will do better next time, promise!"

"No, no, the bath was fine, really. I enjoyed it," he stammered, his cheeks warming.

"S-So did I!" she chimed, locking eyes with him for a second. She looked away, scratching her muzzle pensively. "A-Anyways, what… 'speaking' did Skaven do? Not that I forgot!" she hurriedly added. "Just need remindening, please."

"Well let's see," he began, noting Skyseeker was tensing up as she waited for his answer. "you asked me what kinds of things I look for in a woman, then wrapped up the night by saying you liked me."

"What."

Skyseeker had the deadpan look of one who's just been told a terrible joke, the Skaven hiding her expression by slamming her paws into her face. "N-No, wait-wait! Th-That's not… I never said that! That was ale talking!"

"You just said you had control of all your faculties."

"Stop nitpicking!" she complained, glancing through her fingers to give him an exasperated look. "Stupid man-thing drink jumbled words! Made me sound like breeder in heat who wants attention. Which I'm not! Well, technically am that, but that's not point!"

"You know," he began, a mischievous smirk on his face. "We stupid man-things have a saying. A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts."

"B-But I'm not a man-thing! It doesn't count!" she wailed, pulling her hood over her face to conceal herself from him. "A-And I like you as FRIEND. There was NO romantasy in Skaven's words. Zero, negative even! Why would Rick-rod even suggest otherwise? Wait, did it? Stop smiling at me like that-that!"

She bent so far forward her head was almost resting in her lap, Roderick chuckling as she started babbling under her breath. He didn't get the impression that she was disgusted by this revelation, it was more like it taken her by surprise, and her clumsy explanation suggested he'd embarrassed her greatly. It was amusing to see her so flustered, Skyseeker was always so focused on her mission, that he'd started to think it was all she cared about. It seemed he was wrong.

"Perhaps the ale had more of an effect on you than you care to admit," he said, trying to rescue her verbally.

"Perhaps," she agreed. "It was a long nap time. Saw very interesting things, including man-thing's- NO. Stop."

She met his eyes again, quickly looking away as she snagged another bacon strip from his parcel, stuffing it – and her whole paw – into her mouth. Roderick took another bite of his apple, the two falling silent as they ate. It wasn't an awkward silence, though there was some tension in the air, but one of a wholly different quality than before.

His words might have been considered uncouth if he'd spoken them to a human woman, but Skyseeker didn't appear offended, the occasional glance she sent in his direction proving the fact. Her excuse for explaining how she liked him had been clumsy, but endearing in a way, and Roderick would be a fool to not realise she may have a small crush on him.

He thought back to how indecisive he'd been right before sleeping, debating his conflicted feelings towards Skyseeker. She wasn't at all like a human woman, both physical and otherwise, but it was those parts of her that were so fascinating. She didn't mince words, she didn't ty to act polite, she just did and said the first thing that comes to her mind. That kind of to-the-point attitude made her easier to understand than most of his previous partners.

A part of him reciprocated this crush of hers, but when he opened his mouth to say so, nothing came out. Perhaps he could put into writing what his words never could, and make her a poem? He had done something similar once before with a previous suitor, around the time he'd first signed on with the Imperial army. Nothing had come of it in the end, but she hadn't complained about his poetry skills…

He would need time and some parchment first, but with a bit of luck, he'd have both by the time they'd set sail.

He looked up at the sun, seeing the morning was passing swiftly. Tossing the apple core away, he dusted off his hands, gesturing to Skyseeker with a gauntlet.

"You ready to move, lass?"

She nodded, wolfing down the last of her bacon, licking her paws clean with her long tongue.

"Ready-Ready! Time to sail-sail!"

-xXx-

With their bellies full, they pressed on through the tight streets of Portomaggoire, the dwellings as colourful as they were unique, no two buildings quite the same in size or shape. They took on a more rustic appearance as they approached the city's western portion, form giving way to function as warehouses and industry took precedence.

They soon came upon a staircase, Roderick taking the lead as he began descending the steps, Skyseeker trying not to trip on her cumbersome disguise as she followed. Two residential buildings sat flush against the steps to either side, their windows open to let the salty air seep inside. The scent of the sea was thick, Roderick resisting the urge to pinch his nose. He'd spent most of his life fighting far from the coast, so he wasn't as accustomed to the smell of the barnacles and seaweed as these Tileans were.

He peered up at the rooftops, hand on the hilt of his Skaven sword as he scanned his surroundings. Until he was proved otherwise, he would take the elves' threat seriously, though it remained to be seen if they would catch on to Skyseeker's true identity.

His companion noticed what he was doing, following his gaze up as she squeezed past his flank.

"Any pointy-ears?" she asked, something metal in her paw catching the light as she held her arm out. "Say word when you do, will give them nasty surprise!"

"Put that away," he chided, pushing her arm down. "Flaunting your Skaven stars is a good way to draw suspicion."

"It's warp-star, stupid!" she corrected. "Get it right!"

As they reached the bottom of the staircase, a flock of seabirds raced up from the rooftop ahead of them, their small wings framed against the blue sky. There were dozens of them plaguing the air, Roderick watching what must be half a dozen flocks draw circles overhead. Every now and then one of them would swoop down to the ground a short distance away. They were getting close to the port.

They took another staircase down, this part of the city made up of tiered levels as the land lowered towards the sea. After dipping beneath an archway and turning another corner, they emerged into the most spacious part of the city yet.

Forming a crescent shape was a stone foundation, thick jetties and wharfs jutting from the cobbles at various spots along its curved length, spearing out into a panoramic view of an azure ocean. Bobbing in the water were ships of all sizes, from small dinghies and private yachts, to commercial liners and cargo haulers, their sales flapping in the harsh winds. There were bright markers in the water to help keep the docking lanes clear, the buoys sporting small glass orbs upon their tops, the devices similar to the street lamps. Perhaps they acted as small lighthouses when night fell.

"What is THAT?" Skyseeker exclaimed, faltering when a pair of guards walked by from right to left, turning to scrutinize her. She must look quite a state to them, draped in a cloth that previously belonged on a veranda.

"It's the port part of Portomaggoire," he explained, leading her onwards. They were closer to the left side of the port than the right, so searching the lefthand docks was the first step to finding the wolfship.

"Not poRT. I know what port is, I mean that thing!" she snarled, jabbing a paw out to the water.

"The trade galley?" he asked, Skyseeker rolling her eyes at him. She rushed over to the lip of the port, peering over the edge of the stonework, her red eyes tracing the white sands as they gave way to the ocean below. The shallows were full of rock clusters, algae adding a splash of green to the murky blue. She must have been asking what the ocean was.

"Eek! See that?" she shouted, her finger aimed into the reefs. "What in Horned Rat's name was that?"

"A fish," Roderick answered, grinning as the Skaven became mesmerised as the little creature reappeared, darting between the rocks, its long tail glittering as the scales caught on the sunshine. Knowing that she had lived in an underground city most of her life, it was likely she'd never seen anything like a fish, or this amount of water before.

He encouraged her to move on, the pair sticking close to the water so Skyseeker could watch the marine life swim by. Rows of warehouses lined the port's inner side, their cavernous interiors occupied by skeletal frames of ship hulls, carpenters sawing planks and hammering nails clustered around them.

Some of the builders looked up as Skyseeker wandered over to the nearest one, the Skaven admiring their work from a short distance away. She seemed infatuated, her eyes tracking the movements of one of the men as he shaved down a plank using a plane.

"They make all of hulk things?" Skyseeker asked, gesturing to the ship frame. This one was mostly intact, a few days from being seaworthy, if Roderick had to guess.

"That's right," Roderick replied, stealing a glance at the sun, guessing it was around ten o'clock. "Takes many months, sometimes years to produce a ship from scratch like this."

She noticed where he was looking, reading his thoughts without having to ask. "Apologise, man-thing, getting distracted by things," she said. "Should be making haste to wizard ship!"

"No, it's fine," he replied. "It's only natural you'd be curious about all this stuff. It's… cute, in a way, you being so amazed by all these normal things."

"Nothing normal about any of this," she said. "And don't call me cute!"

They moved further up the dock, each warehouse sporting a ship frame in various stages of completion. Skyseeker seemed a lot more livelier than usual, her energy failing to deplete as she hopped from one strange thing to the next. Perhaps all those knots in her fur he'd gotten out during their bath had something to do with it.

A trade galley up ahead pulled out of the quay, its sails curtaining them from the sun's light for a moment. Roderick squinted into the distance, his features lighting up as he spotted something he recognised.

"Ah-ha," he announced, clapping his gauntlets together. "I think I see the wolfship. There, at the far end of the port."

"Where?" Skyseeker demanded, following his gaze. She reached into her hood, the telltale clockwork clicking of her goggles reaching his ears, the Skaven zooming in down the dock. "Which one? Boats all look same to me."

"You'll see when we're closer."

After a few minutes, they reached a more populated part of the port. Roderick could see swarms of humans and even a few dwarves lining up before a few wharfs, each man and woman carrying some sort of pack or container. They were filing up onto wooden planks extending off the bows of a pair of bulky ships, guards checking the passports of each boarding passenger. Beyond them were stalls just like those in the market, gutted fish and choice cuts strung up on lines of string.

"Your invasion's got a lot of people running scared," Roderick noted, pausing to count the number of guards.

"For good reasonings," Skyseeker chittered. "A Skaven has breach-crossed Portmacgyver walls. Flee in terror, peasants!"

Roderick hushed hush her, apologising to the few nearby families who'd overheard her.

As they navigated throught he crowds, Roderick noted that benches were lined up against the dock's edge, facing out to sea. As his gaze fell over them, the cool breeze whipping his hair back, he did a double take, realising that sitting upon one of them was someone he recognised.

"What you looking at, Rick-rod?" Skyseeker demanded. "If you say your boat's on other side of port, I will stab you."

"No, that's… that's him," he said, Skyseeker turning to follow his finger. Sitting there with his back turned was an old man, his long silver hair blowing in the breeze. Draped over his shoulders was a robe the colour of grass, and upon his head rested a wreath of sticks, the wood looped around itself though it was as flexible as shoelace.

"Really-Really?" Skyseeker asked, tilting her muzzle. "THAT is the grand wizard you spoke-speaked of?"

"Sure is. Recognise him anywhere."

"B-But he's just sitting there!" she argued. "Where's his doomwheel? Or his throne of skulls? Or his army?!"

"He's a druid, not a Chaos Lord," Roderick chided. "Come, I'll introduce you."

He could see Skyseeker was hesitant to follow, Roderick pausing to look back at her. "Don't fear, lass, Wilfred's as reasonable as they come, trust me."

"I-I do," she muttered, catching up with him. "Any last second advice? Want to make good-great impression!"

"Just be yourself. Actually, don't do that. Be honest, but don't mention how we met. And say nothing of your mission. Or the fact I told you why the Emperor sent us hear. You know what? Just let me introduce you. Better that way."

She hung back while Roderick approached the bench, noting that the old man was cradling a pipe in the corner of his lips, a little wisp of smoke trailing from the bowl.

"Wilfred? It's me. Greetings."

Without turning round, the old man lowered his pipe, sighing out a puff of smoke while shaking his head.

"Fifteen days, three hours, and fifty seconds. I awaited your arrival for over two weeks, and your first offer to me is your greetings? In Marienburg, a peasant was lashed twenty times for keeping a wizard waiting. You should be offering your apologies, general-who-was, if you knew what was good for you."

"I'm surprised Grim Death didn't get to you before I did," Roderick replied tersely. "You look like you've aged fifteen years."

Despite his withered appearance, the old man leapt to his feet, propping himself up on a staff. To any common man it would appear like a walking stick, but even to Roderick's undisciplined senses, he could feel the power radiating from its wood, the air filing with swirling energy. At its tip sat a refined emerald, cradled in the grip of spiralling vines, the precious gem seeming to shine as the wizard planted the haft of the staff in the ground.

As Roderick squared off with the druid, he noticed the lingering Skyseeker brace herself, a hand creeping down towards her sheaths. He couldn't see her tail, but he imagined it would be standing out as straight as an arrow, the Skaven glancing between the two men.

"I see your insolence hasn't wavered," the wizard grumbled, and then he cracked a smile, chuckling as he placed his pipe back in his mouth. "You're no spring chicken yourself, Roderick. You'll be grey too before long."

"It's good to see you again, old friend," Roderick said, returning the smile. He stepped forward, clapping the old man on the shoulder.

"Likewise, Roderick, likewise. Now let's have a look at you." He stepped back, beginning to pick and fret over Roderick's armour. "My my, another scar on your cheek! I knew the mercenaries would impede your journey, but to take your Reiklander armour, and your sword…"

"What do you mean, you knew?" Roderick asked, narrowing his eyes. "Did you see me get waylaid in a crystal ball or something?"

"I foresee all things," Wilfred replied, waving a mystical hand.

"Then you could have sent aid instead of sitting around here smoking pipeweed," Roderick mumbled.

"Sent aid? Across half the country? You escaped your predicament long before my help would have had any impact, I knew you would be resourceful enough to make it here of your own power."

"That's where your wrong, Wilfred," Roderick countered. "I made an… unlikely ally along the way. One who's saved my life a number of times."

"Oh?" Wilfred asked, raising his bushy eyebrows. "Where are they? I would be glad to pass on my thanks."

Roderick gestured behind him, Wilfred turning around, blinking when he noticed the demure Skyseeker watching on from afar. Taking this as her prompt to introduce herself, she came forward, glancing up at Roderick as if for reassurance, one he replied to with a nod.

"Salutationings," Skyseeker began, waving a paw. "I am… Drawfius of Clan Angry. Angry? Angrund! Am definitely not a raki – that means Skaven in beard-thing tongue!"

She gripped the lip of her hood, peeling the fabric back just enough to expose the tip of her furry muzzle, Wilfred recoiling a little.

"Just kidding! See? I AM a raki! Not actually a beard-thing!" she announced, snickering like she'd just pulled off the greatest scam of all time. "Real name is Skyseeker of Clan Mors, Master Assassin, chosen of Lord Gnawdwell, and disguise extraordinaire! Hehe!"

"Now this, I did not foresee," Wilfred muttered, stroking his long beard pensively. "What a fascinating turn of events! You managed to ally with a friendly Skaven," he added, glancing over his shoulder. "Well done, Roderick. None have ever managed to do something like this before."

"Not friendly!" Skyseeker insisted. "More like… uh, neutral."

"And your name is Skyseeker, correct?" Wilfred asked. "What an interesting name. Are you perhaps an astrologer by trade?"

"Oh yes-yes! Astrology, thaumatology, trigonometry, dabbled in all arcane arts in spare time," Skyseeker answered. "-And! Superb warrior as well! Beat Rick-rod in duel once."

"There's a lot of context she's neglected to add," Roderick chimed in.

"A she, you say?" Wilfred got down on one knee, lowering to Skyseeker's eye level. "Well, miss Skyseeker, you have my gratitude for aiding Roderick in his quest. I'd love to know how the two of you met. And how this dual went."

"It's a long tale, and not the good kind!" Skyseeker replied, beginning to list off her fingers. "It's full of action, suspense, a giant feather-thing, betrayal, reparations… oh! And a bath."

"He doesn't need all the details, lass," Roderick said. "Let's find someplace quiet, and we'll give you the short version."

Skyseeker took up the rear as the two men pushed through the throngs of people, soon emerging onto the far side of the crowd, ducking into a secluded alleyway where they could talk without being overheard.

Roderick started from the beginning, recounting his events from when he'd been forcibly employed by the mercenary Commander, to his strange meeting with Skyseeker, and their trip across the Trantine Hills together. She butted in every now and then to provide key details – usually ones that involved her being put in the spotlight – Roderick doing his best to incorporate her deeds without getting off track. He didn't mind embellishing Skyseeker, if it meant convincing Wilfred she would be a useful asset.

The old wizard listened to their story patiently, glancing between the two without so much as a word. Roderick left out the part about confessing to Skyseeker what his true purpose in Tilea was – that was one boundary he feared Wilfred would not appreciate him crossing.

"Quite the series of events," Wilfred said once the story was finished. "Yet, there's one thing I don't understand," he added, turning his brown eyes on Skyseeker. "Why have you followed Roderick all this way? Surely you must have known there would be risks coming here, does your Clan not have need of you?"

Skyseeker raised a explanative paw, then lowered it when she couldn't think of something to say. Roderick spoke up before the pause dragged on.

"She was ostracised from her Clan," he explained. "When they found out she was assisting me, they branded her a traitor, right lass?"

"Uh, correct!" she said, snickering under her breath.

"A fellow exile, hmm?" Wilfried noted. "No wonder you two got along so well."

"Had nowhere else to go-go," Skyseeker added, drooping her head as though overcome with grief. "Lived with rats all life, purposeless without them! Then, hatched a brilliant scheme – follow Rick-rod to ship, see new places, explore new things. Always wanted to go on a cruise!"

"Oh, you wish to travel with us?" Wilfred asked, twirling his chest-length beard with a finger as he considered. "Well… it will be a lengthy voyage, and I'd be glad of the opportunity to question an astrologer from an alien culture such as the Skaven…"

"Questions?" Skyseeker exclaimed. "Screw that! Take it back, will stay in Tilee-place."

"I worried you'd be against the idea," Roderick noted, addressing the wizard.

"It's certainly a… strange occurrence," Wilfred admitted. "But, any friend of Roderick's is a friend of mine, and I'd be glad to have you join us, miss Skyseeker."

"Skaven senses Fredwil's about to say but," she mumbled.

"You'd sense correctly," Wilfred replied. "While I have no qualms, the crew I enlisted might not be so... forthcoming, about letting a Skaven on board."

"Could sneak onto ship from water," Skyseeker suggested, but Roderick shook his head.

"I'm not going to make you stay crammed in the cargo hold like a… well, rat," he replied. "You deserve better than that."

Skyseeker flashed him an appreciative look, one she hid behind her hood soon after.

"Think we might be able to convince them otherwise?" Roderick asked Wilfred.

"Their captain is one Arnulf Von Kessel," Wilfred said. "It may be difficult, but not impossible to persuade him to see reason. He's from Nordland, originally, used to be part of a handgunner troop before transferring to the Navy. His wolfpack's assisted us in a couple of our campaigns up in Kislev."

"You trust him?"

"He respects the Conclave, so it wasn't all that hard to sway him to our cause. Trust is subjective, but he can be bought, and as long as we can convince him that miss Skyseeker's presence will be of aid, he should be forthcoming with the idea."

"How soon can this Von Kessel set sail?"

"We can go right away. I've had the good captain keep his men prepared for your arrival. All he needs is the go ahead."

"Then we have no time to waste-lose," Skyseeker replied, taking Roderick by the hand. "Onwards, man-things!"

She dragged Roderick further down the port, Roderick struggling to keep up with her quick strides. Wilfred followed after, using his staff like a walking stick, the old man chuckling at the sight of him being led around.

As they approached the far end of the port, Roderick began to see the wolfship in more detail. It was anchored to the furthest quay, its sails reefed into their posts. The vessel was massive, dwarfing the few ships docked onto the nearby wharfs, making them look like toy boats in comparison. Despite this, design of the ship was sleek, the hull as narrow as possible while still maintaining a large crew, the vessel a near-perfect balance of mobility and firepower.

The rear of the ship was tiered into three levels, the upper two smaller than the lowest, likely the captain's cabin and other officer chambers. The midsection of the ship was a large, flat deck maybe twenty meters across, the rails brimming with maybe a dozen gunpowder cannons, the barrels turned towards the sky, but the array of weaponry didn't end there.

The hull was pockmarked with two layers of portholes, brass brackets spanning the ship's entire length giving the vessel a layer of protective casing. Oars jutted out of the lowest layer of aforementioned ports, while more cannon barrels occupied the higher layer. Woe betide any ship in range of a broadside, there was enough cannon there to level a small town.

The most prominent detail of the ship was the forward section, where a forecastle bulged from just beyond the ship's nose, the bunker-like feature three tiers tall with a flat top. Roderick could see maybe twenty windows built into the structure, and sprouting from each one of them were even more gunpowder barrels. That was only what he could see from this side, another twenty weapons likely lay on the opposing side of the forecastle, ready to fire on anything in front of the ship.

The forecastle overlooked a monumental ram, a giant pole the size of an oakwood's trunk projecting from the ship's nose, the feature tipped with a block of stone, chiselled into an approximation of a sheep's skull the size of a dragon's head.

"I don't like it," Skyseeker chittered, turning her nose up at the ship.

"What?" he asked, blinking. "You don't feel inspired by the sight of so many guns? Few would dare to attack a warship like this, and those that do wouldn't last long."

"It's too big!" she complained. "And you know what big means? Slow!"

"Not for a wolfship it doesn't. Hint's in the name."

They made their way up the quay, passing stacks of wooden crates and barrels draped in fishing netting, walking along the wolfship's immense length. It was fifty or sixty meters long from bow to stern, several hairy ropes connecting the deck to the metal posts lining the quay.

A wooden plank extended from the ship's midpoint down to the pier, and as Skyseeker dragged Roderick towards it, two guards intercepted her. Unlike the militiamen, these men sported full armour plate, polished to a shine. Dangling from their right shoulders were small, red capes, and embroidered upon them was the Reikland coat of arms, the golden thread seeming to shine in the sun. These were not sailors, but soldiers of the Empire, Roderick's chest welling as he finally looked upon his own countrymen for the first time in what felt like an age.

The guards crossed their spears, creating an 'X' in the air and blocking access to the plank, Skyseeker loosing a very Skaven-like squeak as they glared at the unlikely pair.

"Stay your weapons, men," Wilfred called, sidling up beside Roderick. "Your General returns to us at long last."

The two guards relaxed when they noticed the wizard, though they still spared wary glances at Roderick and Skyseeker. They took a moment to look him over, and perhaps upon recognising Roderick's features, they lowered their spears, saluting him like fresh troops ready for inspection.

"I'm not your General any longer," Roderick said, but he did wave for the guards to be at ease.

"For now," Wilfred added, turning to the men. "Fetch the good captain, please. Tell him I've brought two new guests."

One of the guards nodded, turning to walk up to the wolfship, disappearing behind the deck's railing. He reappeared after a few minutes, now in the company of one other, the guard stepping aside and allowing Roderick to get a look at who it was.

The man was of similar age to Roderick, perhaps a little on the younger side, dressed in a black open-neck tunic and matching baggy trousers, the sleeves of his white undershirt ending just above the wrist. His face was obscured behind a ginger, bushy beard and a thick, handlebar moustache, and on his head rested a wide-brimmed barett, its fabric striped in white and red bands – the colours of the homeland. Two white feathers protruded from its top, probably peacock feathers. This must be captain Von Kessel.

His heeled boots clicked as the captain walked off the plank, clasping his arms neatly behind his back. He glanced at the three newcomers in turn, his eyes lingering on Skyseeker's smaller frame for a second before they settled on Roderick.

"Hail, Roderick Erdmann," Von Kessel began, his tone neutral. "I had begun to fear you would never arrive despite Wilfred's promises to the contrary."

"Greetings, captain," Roderick replied, and although he'd not had to address a superior in some time, his arm snapped up in a prim salute all the same. Old habits die hard, he supposed. "I hope my delay did not cause too much idleness for you and your crew."

"I was looking for an excuse to give the boys some shore leave," Von Kessel replied, returning the salute. In Roderick's peripheral, he could see Skyseeker tilting her head, watching the whole ritual with a bewildered expression. "The trip around Brettonia was long, but not uneventful," Von Kessel continued. "More than a few pirates accosted us, and there'll be many more to come the closer we get to the Vampire Coast. I pray to Sigmar this… 'task', will be worth the effort."

"If you truly doubted our intentions, you would never have taken whatever offer Wilfred gave you," Roderick surmised. "I don't know how much he's told you, but rest assured that once our mission is complete, the strength of the Empire, and its safety, will be secured. You have my word."

"An exile's word holds less sway than you think," Von Kessel replied, Roderick narrowing his eyes. "Yes, I'm aware of your recent exploits, Erdmann. Even in the Imperial Navy, your reputation proceeds you. I'm not sure what it is the Conclave sees in you," he muttered, glancing over at Wilfred. "but, with the Emperor's blessing, I'll forgive a little deviancy if it means the betterment of Riekland."

"A sentiment I've come to appreciate as of late," Roderick replied, giving Skyseeker a pointed look. That seemed to bring the Skaven more attention from the captain, Von Kessel's eyes turning to her next.

"I was not aware you were travelling with company," he muttered. "Who are you?"

"I am-!" Skyseeker began, but Roderick cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"Let me," he whispered, then raising his voice, said: "Captain, you're aware of the Skaven invasion in the province, yes?"

"Obviously. If the rumours weren't enough, we spotted rodent ships just off the coast the day before we docked. Our spotter counted twenty vessels."

"The situation on land is dire," Roderick continued. "Tens of thousands of rats plague the countryside, and coming in from the north was no easy task. I saw entire companies being wiped out to a man," he added, looking away grimly.

"I see where this is going. This stranger assisted you?" Von Kessel asked, preempting him.

"In more ways than one," Roderick replied with a nod. "She knew what routes the vermintides were taking, and how to best avoid them. Put simply, I wouldn't be here without her."

"And this answers my question, how?"

"She knows every move the Skaven will make, because she's one of them. But far different in many ways," he quickly added when the captain's eyes blazed open. "She's an outcast, in that she's a follower of Sigmar's teachings."

"It is?!" Von Kessel asked.

"I am?!" Skyseeker asked.

"Yes and yes," Roderick answered. "She's sympathetic to our cause. I've taught her all I can in the short time since we met, and her faith is strong for a non-human."

"I do not care if it's memorized every grimoire," Von Kessel snapped. "You've brought a rodent into the city, and you dare to imply you wish to bring it aboard my ship? This is outrageous! To ally with the forces of Chaos is treason beyond measure."

The two guards gripped the hafts of their spears, their blank helmets turned in Skyseeker's direction, the Skaven's arms darting beneath her disguise in search of her blades. If the captain gave the order to seize her, Roderick wasn't sure which side he'd pick.

Wilfred, who'd been stood off to one side in silence until now, clicked the end of his staff against the cobbles, all eyes turning to him. "Captain, calm yourself. The general has spent every waking moment in service to the Emperor, only a fool would think he's stopped doing so now."

"Fool?" Von Kessel repeated. "I'm the only one who's not short a few marbles! To assist an exile was one thing, but a Skaven as well? The Emperor would never agree to this… collusion with the enemy."

"But the Conclave does," Wilfred countered. "Think of the opportunities this brings us, imagine what we can learn from a Skaven informant. Their resources, weapons, strategies. We would have far less to fear from the Skaven with the kind of knowledge miss Skyseeker here possesses."

Roderick was certain Von Kessel would order his men to take Skyseeker's head, but the captain backed down after a tense few moments, shaking his head adamantly.

"I'd be a traitor myself if I went against the Conclave's wishes," the captain grumbled. "Very well, it can sail with us, but on one condition."

Von Kessel walked up, stopping a few paces away from Skyseeker, holding out his palm. She gave his hand an experimental sniff, shrugged, then tried to high-five him, her paw missing as the captain flinched away.

"Don't touch me, filthspawn," the captain grumbled. "Your weapons, hand them over."

"That won't be necessary," Roderick butted in. "She's quite harmless."

"Sure, and I'm Sigmar reincarnate," Von Kessel replied curtly. "this thing isn't boarding my ship while it's armed. I wont risk the lives of my men on your assurances, Erdmann."

Roderick went to complain, but this time Skyseeker cut him off.

"I agree-gree!" she chittered, Roderick blinking in surprise. "As Horned Ra- Uh, Sigmar says: always in best-best interest to obey pawleaders. Will give Kessel-man weapons, yes-yes…"

She threw back her hood, the captain and his guards tensing as they saw the Skaven for what she truly was, Skyseeker reaching into her cloak. What followed was like a gag from something out of a theatre play, Skyseeker pulling an obscene number of weapons and devices from her cloak, more than should be physically possible to fit inside her sparse clothing. She placed enough knives to equip a squad into Von Kessel's hand, along with two pouches of warp-stars, and a crystal orb that looked suspiciously like the ones the globadier had used to nearly poison Roderick.

"Take that off," Von Kessel ordered, physically struggling to balance her armament. "I want to see what else are you hiding under… whatever that is."

Rolling her eyes, she pulled her disguise off, the fabric sliding up her angled legs, then her torso. She threw it aside, where it landed on the cobbles with a thump, now standing there with just her camoflauged cloak and undergarments.

Her body was mummified in all sorts of pouches and slings, and she began to take them off one by one, the captain opening them to insect their contents. Some were filled with disassembled dagger parts, as though Skyseeker expected to be switching out the hilts and blades on the fly, while others contained what looked like powders. She even had a spool of rope in one pocket, as well as a few tiny bundles of a familiar fruit.

"I thought you said you ran out of olives," Roderick noted.

"May have… exaggerated for pity points," Skyseeker admitted, smirking up at him.

"No, really? That's unlike you, lass," he said mockingly, Skyseeker giggling at him.

"Your hood, pass it over," Von Kessel said, shooting Roderick an annoyed look. He must not appreciate their playful exchanges.

Since the captain's arms were so overloaded with her gear, he had to bring one of his guards in to help, the man patting down Skyseeker's cloak while she stood there, her dark coat roiling in the wind. When he concluded the cloak was empty of weapons, Von Kessel gestured at her waistband next.

Here was where Skyseeker stored her prized weeping blades, Roderick reading her hesitation like words from a book as she placed a paw on one. She looked to him for reassurance, and when he nodded back, she unclipped the sheaths, handing them over.

"Watch paw-fingers, Kessel-man," she warned, reaching down to her waist. "Blades are as sharp as my wit! Cut arm clean off."

Next, Skyseeker produced a full-blown handcannon, the weapon having been tucked into the back of her loincloth. Confused, Roderick placed a hand on his holster, thinking she might have taken his at some point, but the pistol was still there on his belt.

She held the handcannon out grip-first, surprisingly attentive for once as she offered it. Roderick stepped forward before the stunned captain could take it, throwing his hands up.

"Hang on. Where in Sigmar's name did you get a gun?" he asked, more surprised than anything. She thrust it into his hands, and he turned it over, admiring the golden etchings lining the the barrel, the polished sandalwood grip feeling smooth and glossy beneath his fingers. It was of decent craftsmanship, if a little on the decorative side.

He could see the conflict in her eyes, but after a few moments, Skyseeker relented.

"Bought-purchased last night," she explained. "Forgot to get ammunition, though. Apologising…"

"You bought this?" he asked. Perhaps that man in the market square, the one who'd been hauled away by the guard, was the gunsmith she'd taken it from. "But… how? This must have cost a small fortune."

"Oh! Meant to say steal," she corrected. "You like-like it? Meant to be surprise…"

"Surprise?" he echoed. "How do you mean?"

"It's gift, stupid!" she growled. "Know that Rick-rod likes guns, so took-stole gun, to give to Rick-rod when least expected! Not surprise anymore," she added, glaring up at Von Kessel.

"Oh," Roderick stammered. "Well… thank you, lass. That's very thoughtful."

Skyseeker rubbed her head like a woman might stroke their hair after being flattered, looking away with her muzzle split in a grin.

"I suppose it would be fine if you held onto that," Von Kessel muttered. "Turn around, rat."

Skyseeker did a full spin, the guard crouching down to look her over for any contraband. "What's this?" he asked, gesturing at her goggles, which dangled around her neck.

"They're for seeing!" she explained. "sunshine too bright out here."

"It's clean," the guard announced after a second, Von Kessel nodding his head.

"Fine. Give it back its cloak, I don't want to see its hideous face any more than I have to."

"Hideous! At least Skaven doesn't have red pubes growing out of its face," she muttered, snatching her cloak from the guard, the grass and sticks threaded to the mesh rustling as she donned it.

The captain glared down at her. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing! Just talking to self, hehe…"

Von Kessel bit his lip, turning to jab a finger at Roderick's chest. "You keep that thing on a short leash, you hear me? If it lays a finger on any of my men, speaks out of turn, even looks at someone the wrong way, I'll hold you responsible. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Roderick replied.

"I hope you know what you're doing. Both of you," Von Kessel added with a pointed look at Wilfred. He motioned for them to follow, turning to walk up the plank, Skyseeker and the two guards taking up the rear.

A short walk up the gangway, and they were on the ship, Roderick leaning a hand on the railing as he stepped onto the deck. A few sailors had taken an interest in their little meeting with the captain, at least a dozen burly men in sleeveless shirts gathered round to see what all the commotion was.

The deck was laden with barrels and winch posts, the spools of rope trailing from the railings to the towering sails, the cloths forming grids against the blue backdrop. A grated hatchway that led to the hold sat in the middle of the space, and to the sides were staircases leading to the fore and aft sections.

"Ahoy-hoy, maties!" Skyseeker called, leaping on to the ship, turning to address the gathered men. "Move tails and set sails! Desert lands await!"

"Silence," Von Kessel snapped. "You are not to address any of my men. That's my second stipulation."

"No need to be mean-mean, was just breaking ice," Skyseeker whined, looking genuinely saddened by being shut down.

"What are you all gawking at?" Von Kessel growled, the men switching their focus from Skyseeker to him. "You're not being paid to stand around! Report for rolecall and then get to your posts, we sail for Arabia immediately."

The sailors hurried off with a chorus of yes captain's, the order to depart already being shouted down the length of the ship.

"Since I have a ship to run, I'll let you show the late general and his… companion, to their quarters, master druid," Von Kessel said, turning to Roderick. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to give me a wide berth and ask someone else. Good day."

With that, the surly captain departed, shouting orders to his underlings as he made his way up to the forecastle, leaving Roderick and Skyseeker alone with Wilfred.

"That went well," Skyseeker chirped.

"But he clearly hates you," Roderick replied.

"Exactly!"

"Be wary, miss Seeker," Wilfred warned, raising a crooked finger. "Von Kessel's tolerance has its limits, and there are those on this ship who hold nothing but disdain for your kind. Until we make landfall in Arabia, your safety isn't guaranteed."

"Just how Skaven like-likes it," she tittered, unfazed as ever.

"Come," Wilfred added, gesturing with his staff. "Let's show you around."

They followed the wizard towards the ship's aft section, Roderick holding Skyseeker back as a pair of sailors cut in front of their path, rushing towards a winch in the centre of the deck. Men were running about everywhere he looked, some climbing the rigging to access the reefed sails, others hauling spools of rope from one end of the ship to the other.

A cranking sound rose above the shouting, Roderick watching as the arm of a crane hovered just off the portside bow, the gears that powered the mechanism rotating slowly. A spool of chainlink draped from the claw, and as Roderick watched, an anchor rose up into view, the chrome dripping with water.

The three of them walked up a set of stairs to the quarterdeck, where the ship's steering wheel was located, the device taller than Skyseeker was. Behind it was the ship's next tier, the structure forming a block that made up the very rear of the vessel.

"Through here is the mess cabin," Wilfred said, gesturing to a doorway built into said structure. Skyseeker took a quick detour towards the wheel, the Skaven giving it a tentative spin.

"Don't touch that," Roderick chided, guiding her away. "I don't think the captain would appreciate you messing with everything."

"Aw, but I want to steer boat!" she complained. "Imagine, clawcaptain Skyseeker, rat buccaneer of Tilee-place coast! Sure ta' be the skurviest rat lass of all toime! Ya-harr!"

"I think Von Kessel would sooner dive overboard than let you navigate his ship," Roderick muttered. "Your pirate accent is terrible, by the way."

"You're terrible," she hissed, punching him on the leg.

Wilfred ushered them through the door once they'd caught up, the pair emerging into a room longer than it was wide, two rows of tables occupying the floorspace. To one side lay a sectioned-off kitchen, no bigger than the one they'd seen in the market. There was no one inside on the count of the ship being prepared to leave.

"Feel free to pop round whenever you fancy a bite," Wilfred said, leading them between the tables. "The chefs usually work at the set meal times, but there's a pantry over there with cured rations if you need a snack."

Skyseeker was already halfway across the room before he'd finished his sentence, throwing the pantry doors open and delving into the shelves inside. Wilfred quirked a bushy eyebrow at the scene, turning his gaze to Roderick.

"Has she not eaten this morning?" he asked.

"Believe me, she fancies a bite pretty much every other hour," Roderick explained. "I hope the captain stocked up."

"This place stinks of man-things," Skyseeker muttered, returning with a bundle of dried meat in her arms. "Smells worse than Rick-rod."

"Well, with a complement of over one hundred and fifty men, the ship tends to get a bit pungent," Wilfred said. "You get used to it after a while, for better or worse…"

"One fifty!" Skyseeker repeated, stuffing her new prizes inside her hood. "That's tiny! Skaven hulks carry six times as much."

"Down here's the upper gun deck," Wilfred continued, moving over to a step ladder in the far corner, the wizard climbing down it without difficulty, despite his withered appearance.

Roderick followed him, helping Skyseeker down as they stepped out onto the first of many decks making up the wolfship's hull. Looking down its length was a lot like staring down a cathedral's hall, except the roof was an inch above his head. He could just make out the nose of the ship some sixty meters away, the aisle flanked on either side by bronze cannons, their carts secured to the portholes by knotted ropes. Along the middle of the deck were chests filled with rifles and pistols, as well as barrels full of cannonballs, staircases and skylight boxes filling the spaces between.

"Impressive firepower," Roderick noted, voicing his approval in the form of a whistle, the noise making Skyseeker's ears flick. He had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the dozens of men shouting orders throughout the deck. "How many cannons does this ship have, exactly?"

"Standard procedure is to have a minimum of twenty a side at all times," Wilfred answered. "That not accounting for the forecastle, which can fit fifty, sixty guns if it's all hands on deck."

"What's on next deck?" Skyseeker asked, eager to explore.

Wilfred showed them down another step ladder, the lower deck more or less identical to the previous one, except there were seats instead of cannons, the thick ends of rowing oars sticking out of the ports. Roderick could see a few grapeshot weapons sitting flush against the hull, leading him to believe they could be fitted to the ports if the crew needed to trade speed for more firepower.

"Below us is the cargo hold," Wilfred continued. "As well as the bilge pumps. I'd recommend limiting your time down here, people like us would just get in the way of these men."

"Where do man-things sleep?" Skyseeker asked. "Barely enough room to walk-skitter."

"Everywhere," Wilfred answered, gesturing to the ceiling with his staff. Hammock sheets were strung up in rows across the roof in every direction, making the whole deck look like it was shielded by a white tarp. They looked like they were raised and lowered by pulleys, hinting that even when deployed, there was scarcely an inch between each bedding. "This deck, the one above, even the cargo hold, everywhere double's up as a bunking area. Free space is limited on this ship, so every part of it is used."

"This is why I didn't join the navy," Roderick muttered. "At least in a barracks you're not breathing the same air as the man beside you. Sigmar forbid someone farts in here. Don't tell me one of these is my bunk."

"Ah, that brings me to where you will be staying. Back this way."

They climbed back into the mess hall, Wilfred leading them up yet another step ladder, the three of them clambering out into a spacious area – spacious by warship standards. Ringing around the hatch was a continuous wall in the shape of the letter 'U', with the northern wall made up of doors and stained glass, sunlight spilling inside. Two doors led away to compartments on either side, while the deeper part of the space led off into a lavish compartment, with tiled flooring, dressers, curtains, and a dining table fit for a lord. Roderick guessed that was the captain's quarters down there.

"I convinced the captain beforehand to lend you the secretary cabin," Wilfred said, walking over to the compartment on the left. Inside was a bed that was folded out from a slot in the wall, as well as a writing desk and chair. A plain curtain drawn over a solitary window provided the cabin's sole feature.

"Better than those hammocks by far," Roderick said, nodding in approval. "Thank you, Will."

"Don't say I never look out for you," Wilfred replied, waving a hand. "I'm not sure where we can put miss Seeker, however. Perhaps we can roll out a spare sheet here, between your cabin and mine."

"Not to worries," Skyseeker chimed. "I'll sleep with Rick-rod."

"Oh?" Wilfred asked, his tone curious. "Is that right?"

"She means sleeping literally," Roderick explained hastily. "We've been sharing the heat of a campfire for weeks, so we're used to bunking up."

"Can say-speak that again," Skyseeker giggled. "Rick-rod gave me bath last night."

"Indeed?" Wilfred said, grinning over at Roderick. "Well then, that was very kind of him. Just take note that the only bath on this ship is in the captain's quarters, and that one's strictly off-limits, so don't get any ideas."

"Too much information, lass," Roderick muttered, feeling warmth in his face.

There was a sudden thrum of sound, what seemed to be the far-off beat of a drum reverberating through his bones, Roderick glancing over his shoulder in surprise. Skyseeker's reaction was more colourful, the Skaven grasping his leg with a paw, turning her muzzle at odd angles as she searched for the source.

"Do not worry," Wilfred said. "those're just the sailing drums. The men on the oars use it to row in time with eachother, since shouting across the deck while pulling a ship tends to get tiresome. I believe this one signals we're pulling out of the harbour."

As if to illustrate his point, Roderick began to feel the subtle pull of the ship's fleeting momentum, more shouting audible through the windows. The captain's men were well disciplined if they could ready the ship so quickly.

"Let's go see-see," Skyseeker chittered, moving over to the exit. Roderick followed her out, the beating drums growing louder as he emerged outside. Looking over the railing, he saw they were on the ship's tallest level, Roderick seeing Von Kessel and one of his officers man the wheel below. He couldn't see where the drums were coming from, perhaps they were in the lower decks, or the forecastle.

"Rick-rod, look!"

Skyseeker rushed over to the port side, her crimson eyes peering over the railing. Below was the quay, a few men who must be locals pulling threads of rope clear as the ship began to distance from the port, all the ropes weighing them down now released. Roderick noted that the plank had been drawn, the two Reikland guards helping to store it in a slot on the main deck.

Above them, the ship's sails drew to their full lengths with a series of loud flaps, the cloths bulging as they caught on the winds. Looking further down, Roderick watched as oars jutting from the lower ports paddled into the waves, helping to guide the ship into deeper waters.

As the ship began to pick up speed, Skyseeker hopped onto the railing, Roderick shooting out a hand, fearing she might fall. She smirked at him as she lifted her paws, demonstrating her dexterity as she balanced there on the beam, her tail levelled out as counterbalance.

"No paws, see?" she said, waving her arms around. "having tail is advantageous! Rick-rod should get one."

"Say goodbye to Tilea, lass," he said, leaning his hands on the beam nearby. Portomaggoire was sliding ever further off to the left, the people in the harbour becoming little specks.

"BAD-bye, Tilea!" Skyseeker shouted, waving a paw. "It was not fun! Too hot, too tree-y, and too many bird-things! Worst place ever!"

"I fear it will only get more dangerous from here on out," Roderick muttered. "from what I know of the desert locals, the Tilean's will look downright civil in comparison, and there are creatures worse than gryphons in this world…"

"What could be worse than giant bird?" she demanded.

"I don't know, and I'm afraid to find out."

"Never fear, Rick-rod," she continued, brandishing a butcher knife. "Anything stabs you, I'll stab them first."

"What in the… where'd you get that?"

"From messy hall! It was in pantry," she explained, twirling the knife through her clawed fingers.

"You do realise if the captain sees you with a weapon, we're both doomed, right?"

"Will be doomed-dead without my knives," she countered. "A Skaven without a knife is like a… like a… Skaven without a knife! Yes-Yes!"

"I thought you said you agreed to be disarmed."

"Temporarily!"

"You never cease to amaze me, Skyseeker," Roderick sighed, rubbing his temples with his gauntlets. "You don't need your knives or your weapons. If the captain wanted you dead, he'd have already ordered it by now."

"You want Skaven to scurry around… without weapons?" she asked, grinding her teeth in irritation. "That is… most resolutely stupid thing Rick-rod has ever suggested, and you suggest a lot of stupid things!"

"I just want you to give my countrymen a chance," Roderick replied. "just as they have taken a chance on you. This is Von Kessel's ship, you should follow his rules."

"Why you care about what Kessel-man says anyway?" Skyseeker asked. "Called you names, chittered implications. Got feeling you not like him."

"It doesn't matter if I like him or not," he explained. "He believes me and Wilfred's efforts will help the Empire, and that kind of faith is hard to find these days. We should respect his wishes. You, should respect them."

"But you heard Fredwil! Every man-thing on wolfboat is out to get me, need to be prepared for sneaky-attack…"

"I'm not out to get you," he pointed out. "and neither is Wilfred. So long as you give no one a reason to fear you, these sailors will treat you right."

"But if sailors see knifeless rat, that is best chance to attack me!"

"And if they see you with a knife, they'll come to the same conclusion. You're preparing for the moment everyone will come after you, but by stealing a weapon, you're making yourself a threat in the process. See what I'm saying?"

By the way her eyes stared passed him, the only movement on her expression coming from her twitching nose, he already knew her answer.

"Look," he added, placing a hand on her arm. She was used to his presence by now that she no longer bristled at his touch. "I know it's hard for you to do this, you've been hardwired to be suspicious of everything since the day you were born, but have faith in my countrymen. Have faith in me."

She paused to consider his words, eventually taking his hand into her paw, giving it a squeeze.

"*Sigh*… Fine! Just for you-you, Rick-rod."

She extended her other arm, the one with the knife, and turned her palm over, the blade twirling end over end as it sank to the sea, splashing into the murky depths after a moment. "There, knifeless."

"You could have just put the knife back," he pointed out. "but that works."

Still holding hands, they turned to watch as Portomaggoire sank into the haze, the forests beyond its walls, and the mountains beyond them, sweeping away into the horizon. A kind of elation swelled up inside Roderick at having finally acquired a mode of transport, but it was tempered by his apprehension of what lay ahead.

It was general knowledge that the further south one went down the continent, the less influence the Empire had, and the harder the grip of Chaos became. That was to say nothing of what would happen if he and Skyseeker reached the relic together, as they'd agreed, and which one of them would try to claim it for themselves.

Roderick glanced over at her, seeing that her features were void of anything reminiscent of worry or suspicion, the Skaven simply enjoying the sensation of the winds' caress. He envied her ability to disregard the threat of looming danger, though it must have crossed her mind at some point. Could he convince her that the Empire's need was greater than her clan's own? Would he have to resort to force if he couldn't? He didn't want to bring her to harm, but they were both envoys of two civilisations that had long been enemies since either of them were born, their alliance would have no foundation once their end goal was within reach.

He looked back at the city, wondering if Skyseeker's claim about everyone out to get her wasn't wholly unfounded.