Clan of the Eternal Plagues - The Lure of Lustria...

[Angelus Mortifer]

Morskittar had alerted him in the middle of the night whilst the rest of the clan had slept and recovered from battle. He had been feigning sleep, on the orders of Skisslikt himself, and he immediately roused his master after he saw the form of Morslitch quietly slinking out of the cave, presumably thinking he had not been seen. Grabbing the amulet, Plaguevenom gave quiet chase into the jungle whilst leaving his Champions with orders to guard the camp, but not to wake the others accept under the direst of circumstances.

He placed the amulet around his neck and touched the emerald stone once more, quickly adjusting himself to the relic's effects as he gave pursuit. He caught up with the emissary after a while and matched his pace as Morslitch ebbed and turned, often doubling back on himself as he drove deeper into the jungle's depths. At times the spellcaster would wheel around and sniff the air before staring intently in his direction, and he thought on several occasions that he had been seen. At one such juncture, he had mistakenly been caught out in the open and felt certain that his chase was ended, but Morslitch appeared to just look through him and then resume his course.

He didn't know whether the spellcaster was fleeing, returning to the Plague Lord, or simply embarking on some other such adventure, but he patiently waited to see where this chase would lead. Eventually, after about an hour's meandering travel, Morslitch stopped at the base of a vast tree, its breadth considerable even amongst the varied terrain they had so far endured. Skisslikt silently moved around the outskirts to get a better view of whatever was about to transpire, taking up a concealed position under a shattered tree trunk. There he stopped and waited...

He lost track of time as he remained hidden, his eyes constantly on the spellcaster as he too waited for someone, or something. Eventually there was a rustle of foliage off to his left and two humanoid creatures gingerly appeared, their forms cloaked by the shadow of the jungle canopy. A hushed conversation ensued, the words of which he could not discern, although the tone occasionally became heated before resuming its muffled timbre. Finally, the meeting drew to a close, and just as he was about to give up hope on learning anything from this bizarre event, a slight breeze disturbed the leaves above, revealing the two strangers for a brief instance...


...they were Skaven... and he quickly made out the brands and markings of Clan Pox Rot, the same Clan they had briefly joined forces with during their very first skirmish in Lustria. It was also the Clan who deferred much of the spoils and loot recovered during that battle to Skisslikt, after seeing the first Relic recovered from the swamp and brandished threateningly by Vermikch. The Pacxkmaster's eyes narrowed as he digested the scene, surmising that he and his followers may soon be receiving some uninvited guests...

[Angelus Mortifer]

"Defend the Village (Cave)"

The clan were roused early in the morning, before the sun had risen, and the camp was a hive of activity as they readied weapons and wargear. As the warband prepared for what was obviously a coming battle, Morslitch could occasionally be seen with a concerned look on his face, which prompted Skisslikt to believe that a raid was certainly imminent. While that was a concern, offset somewhat by the fact that the Eternal Plagues would not be caught unawares at least, what was of more import was the fact that the emissary had betrayed the location of the clan to an enemy, and that situation would need to be rectified as soon as possible.

Once the Skaven were ready, Skisslikt passed out orders for their defence, moving the warriors up to the small collection of ruins a short distance from the cavern entrance. With the possibility that he and his kin could still be outdone during the course of the engagement, by Morslitch being able to somehow manufacture their demise whilst battle was joined, he assigned Skrin to guard the spellcaster for "his own safety". The Censer Bearer didn't need to be told his actual responsibility in staying close to this serpent, and he mockingly bowed slightly as he motioned for Morslitch to proceed, with a look of eager spite. Internally, the champion was almost wishing the sorcerer would put a foot wrong...

The clan took up positions in and around the debris and foliage, all of them remaining hidden from view as they waited for their assailants to arrive. There they sat for about an hour, the natural sounds of the jungle steadily growing as it too roused itself for the new day, the heat and humidity steadily rising and adding to the frustrating discomfort for the Skaven. Occasionally, one of the enforcers would furtively peer above a parapet of from behind a broad tree, sniffing for their quarry, before resuming their concealment. All the while, Skisslikt sat in the lea of a broken wall, leaning against the moss covered brickwork with his eyes closed, and a steady breathing the only indication that he was even a wake.

Morslitch had taken up position with the Globadiers amongst some broken masonry, and he too furtively scanned their surroundings for any sign of an approach. His plan to unseat Skisslikt as the dominant, and now wayward, force for the Skaven in Lustria had seemingly been undone before it had even begun. He couldn't fathom how his ruse had been discovered, which worryingly leant added weight to the Packmaster's preternatural abilities it seemed. His own unease at this turn of events was certainly not helped by having Skrin in position a short way behind him, and he tried hard to look unperturbed as the burly warrior nonchalantly toyed with his smoking censer, all the while staring unwaveringly at the emissary.

They continued to wait...

[Angelus Mortifer]

Plaguevenom's eyes shot open, and he spoke silently as much to himself as to the jungle at large,

"They're heeeeeere..."

He immediately battle-signed to his clan who all made ready, determined anticipation etched on their faces, but it was a short while before any enemy movement was detected. Skisslikt couldn't quite discern how he knew that the conflict was imminent, he just "felt" the time was now, and soon shadows began to move in amongst the morning mists that clung to the surrounding area.

As anticipated, the warriors of Clan Pox Rot slowly made their way forward, evidently with confidence as they were obviously unaware that their dawn raid was about to be foiled. Typical for Skaven in the way they often waged war, the first to be seen were a vanguard screen of slaves and giant rats, several of them proceeding down what was once the main thoroughfare of the ancient settlement, the rest fanning out on the flanks. Next, the enemy hierarchy could be seen advancing, the lesser clan members being driven by a combination of their bullying words and aggressive physicality.

Skisslikt gave Morslitch a brief, unreadable glance before giving the command to attack with a vicious roar. As one, and now becoming regularly honed through the ongoing conflict they experienced in this part of the world, the clan charged from their hiding spots in an organised martial assault that belied the general traits of their race. Matching like for like, the Packmaster had ordered his own screen of expendables to take the fight to the enemy, whilst spread out through the rear, the Globadiers and spellcasters began to pick off targets of opportunity. In-between the fodder and support, the ranking members ducked and weaved between the various points of cover to close the distance, ready to engage them in close quarter combat.

Skisslikt and Morskittar flanked to the left as the slings and poisoned bombs began to fly. Vermiktch and Kritikch took up position at the end of the central road, hidden behind ruined pillars on either side, waiting for the moment that would have the enemy in range. Skrin "escorted" Morslitch and one of the Plague Monks to the right as they looked to use better cover to make their ranged assault more effective. Battle was joined quickly as the lesser ranks came together in a clash of frenzied stabbing and guttural screeches, the effect seemingly vicious but counteracted somewhat by the lack of combat skill demonstrated by such lowly vermin.

The members of Clan Pox Rot reeled briefly at the surprise of the attack, but managed to rally quickly and attempted to push on with their assault. Casualties began to fall on both sides amongst the respective runts, and both Kritikch and Vermikch leapt into the fray to bolster the centre line and lend their respective skills to tip the balance. On the right, the aerial bombardment was beginning to make a difference, checking the enemy advance, but it was also here that Morslitch benefitted from some luck.

Skrin had shadowed him throughout the engagement so far, his ever watchful glare proving to be more than just annoying, but as the enemy drew closer through the ruins he could see the bodyguard's battle frenzy beginning to rise. As he and the ranged support delivered their payload, Skrin broke ranks without warning and dived over a low wall and into the melee. As the champion waded in, the emissary withdrew partially from the ruins so that he was separate from any of the other clan members. Looking across the battlefield he espied the enemy Plague Priest, the same one he met in the dead of night previously, and he sent a flurry of magical darts in his direction with a burst of eldritch fire from his finger tips.

The darts exploded against the corner of a ruined house where the Priest was skulking, and he was startled at the unseen assault. What was immediately clear, however, was that had Balefire intended to maim or kill the Skaven, he could have easily done so. The intention of the attack was to draw attention, and Morslitch immediately signed to the enemy leader that the plan had been compromised and that he should withdraw. It wasn't difficult for the decision to be made, as all Skaven prefer to assault their enemies when everything is in their favour for a swift success. Had the Eternal Plagues not been prepared for the attack, Clan Pox Rot would have launched their offensive whilst they were still slumbering in their cave, their sentries having been quickly overcome by weight of numbers. Now that victory was far less assured, and with the risk of even a bloody defeat should the skirmish become protracted, prudence dictated that another chance would come at another time.

Before the heavy weights of both clans could properly engage eachother, the enemy leader yelled out a series of curt orders and the enemy began to disengage themselves, before retreating with pace back into the jungle. As swiftly as the fight had started, it dissipated equally as quick, and Skisslikt's warriors were left in control of the field and with only minor losses amongst the bottom feeders to account for.

Picking over the meagre loot from the defeated warband, the vermin gradually made their way back to the cave, Skisslikt and his bodyguards the last to return. As he strode through the ranks he stopped when he reached Morslitch and gave him a look of utter disdain. He said nothing other than giving a sneer of contempt before retreating to his personal chamber once more. The lack of words that passed between them was irrelevant when it was clear to both that Plaguevenom somehow knew of Morslitch's subterfuge, placing him in a serious predicament. Equally, the packmaster now knew unequivocally that the path he was taking for his clan, and ultimately for himself, would put him on a collision course with the Plague Lord, but indirectly neither of them could do anything right now to "remove" their opposition.

Skisslikt could not kill the emissary, no matter how much he desired to, for fear of being on the receiving end of a short, bloody, and completely outnumbered butchering once word had reached his sponsor. By the same token, Balefire could not have Skisslikt removed at this point because his "gift" was a fundamental attribute that would see Clan Pestilens claim the lands of Lustria for themselves. Maybe, when that time arrived his usefulness would expire, but until then it was too risky to lose such a valuable, albeit unstable, commodity.

Both would have to somehow extricate themselves at some point... and soon...