FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“It will be a four-day trip,” Wilfred said, Roderick following him back into the officer quarters, Skyseeker shutting the door behind them. Not wanting to draw the eye of the man-things or their pawleader, they had retreated back inside after the city was just a small lump of grey on the horizon. “Perhaps three,” the wizard added. “if the winds favour us.”

“Can’t man-thing just MAKE winds favourable?” Skyseeker asked. “Wave staff around, speak magic words: wiggle piggle, whim bam-bam?”

“I can no more alter the course of nature than you can, miss Seeker,” he explained, raising a callused hand. “The winds have their own will, and those who try to exert their control over them usually meet… untimely ends. No, we must respect the winds. Let them carry us where they will.”

“Boring!” Skyseeker goaded, dragging her paws down her muzzle. “Just give stupid wind a little nudge! Won’t strike boat down for that… will it?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Roderick,” Wilfred said with an amused titter. “He used to think all the world’s problems could be whisked away by a magician’s power, but as a Wizard of Life, my abilities don’t warrant destruction or domination, only preservation and harmony.”

“Should have made friends with Wizard of War,” Skyseeker muttered to Roderick. “Warp-lightning storms and scorching flames would bring much utility to journey-trip.”

She’d meant her words as a jab at the older human, but Wilfred took the insult in his stride, quietly smiling down at her. She was so used to Roderick reacting to her comments, that the lack of one from the wizard was disturbing in its absence.

“Would either of you care to play a game?” Wilfred asked, changing the subject. “While I had the hindsight to bring some cards and dice from Marienburg, the seamen don’t make for compelling opponents, considering they work all round the clock.”

“Card games? Seriously?” Roderick asked. “Is there nothing else to do on this ship?”

“If you’re afraid I’ll embarrass you in front of your new friend, you needn’t fret,” Wilfred replied with a grin. “I will go easy on you, just this once.”

“You got better plan-plan, Rick-rod?” Skyseeker asked, turning to Wilfred. “Let’s play! Have four days to burn!”

“That’s the spirit,” the wizard replied. “bring your chair and desk out here, I’ll get the dice.”

Roderick moved over to her – or rather, their cabin – pulling the table out through the door, Skyseeker scurrying passed to drag the chair out after. Wilfred had a stool and chair in his own cabin, and after the three of them sat around the table, Wilfred produced a small carboard box, leaning his staff against the wall as he began to lift through its contents. The staff’s gemstone caught her eye, the way it sparkled reminding her of chiselled warpstone. She was quick to discard any thoughts of stealing it. Robbing a Seer, even if it was a man-thing equivalent, was never a good idea.

Wilfred began to lay out several little cubes, Skyseeker blinking as he placed five of them before her. “What’s this?” she asked, holding one of them up.

“These are dice,” Wilfred explained, placing five more in front of Roderick, then another five before himself. “And the game we’ll be playing is called Liar’s Dice. It’s all about gambling, balancing how much information you deal and receive with your opponents, and of course, lying.”

“Like it already-ready,” she snickered. “Man-things have no chance. Uh, how do we play?”

“It’s simple. Everyone rolls their five dice, making sure you keep them concealed at all times. Whichever combination of values are on the face-up side make up your hand, and can’t be changed once rolled. The values are one through six, which are represented by those little dots, see?”

She nodded. “So six is best face?”

“Not exactly. At the start, each player makes a bet, where we can claim however many of a certain dice are in our hands. Not just your hand, mind,” he added. “You must take into account every dice of every player.”

“But I can’t see your paws!” Skyseeker grumbled. “Show me your dice, Rick-rod.”

“That’s where the deception part comes into play,” Roderick explained. “I could claim I have two threes, but if I only have one in my hand, I have to rely on you or Wilfred having the other three.”

“If you think someone’s bet is a falsity,” Wilfred added. “the next player can choose to challenge them and call, and everyone reveals their dice. If the number of dice meet or exceed the bet, whoever challenged loses a dice. If it’s the other way around, and the dice don’t meet the bet, the one who was challenged loses a dice. You’re eliminated if you lose all your dice.”

“That not sound so bad,” Skyseeker noted. “should make losing more punishable. First one out leaps overboard!”

“Gold is a common stake,” Wilfred replied. “but I’ve no need for monetary possessions, and I doubt either of you are carrying much wealth either.”

“But, if you have no money, how does Fredwil buy things?”

“Nature provides,” the wizard replied, waving a mystical hand at nothing in particular.

“That’s a fancy way of saying he mooches off others,” Roderick added, the wizard frowning at him in response. “Say, you took a couple of rations out of that pantry before, didn’t you lass? We could use those.”

“They’re mine!” she hissed, clutching her cloak in her paws, just in case he got any funny ideas.

“You just said we’ve got no chance of beating you,” Roderick replied. “unless you’ve changed your mind already…”

If she wasn’t so brilliantly intelligent, she might have suspected Roderick was trying to trick her into gambling away her prizes. No matter, she would win them back easily enough, Skyseeker laying out her newfound treats on the desk.

“One thing I forget to mention,” Wilfred said. “each bet must be subsequently higher than the last. If I bet four ones, you can’t bet three ones, but you can bet five ones, or six ones, and so on.”

“Understanding,” she mumbled, clutching her paws over her dice. “Who goes first? Me-Me?”

“Sure. We’ll go clockwise, so Roderick will go next, then me. Whenever you’re ready, miss Seeker.”

“Let’s look-see,” she muttered, lowering her voice as she appraised her dice. “Hmm. Not have any twos, but maybe Rick-rod does? One two!”

“Just keep in mind we’ll remember you’ve now got a two,” Roderick warned. “One four.”

“One six,” Wilfred chimed. “back to you, miss Seeker.”

“Rick-rod definitely has two’s,” she mumbled, still whispering to herself. “Can see it in his stupid, pretty blue eyes. Three two’s! Hehe…”

“You do realise I can hear you this whole time, right?” Roderick asked, grinning like he’d just caught her out on something. “I call.”

Her heart skipped a beat, the man-things revealing their dice. Roderick had no two’s at all, while Wilfred only had one. As Roderick turned to look at her dice, his smile faltered, Skyseeker laughing as his expression flipped upside down.

“What the… you do have two’s. Three of them, actually.”

“Haha!” she exclaimed, pumping her fists. “Stupid man-thing believed rat’s mumbles! Get duped!”

Grumbling, Roderick placed one of his dice aside, sliding one of her treats into her waiting paws. She swallowed it down within two seconds, just in case one of them managed to win it off her.

“Well done, miss Seeker,” Wilfred said. “Now’s it’s slightly harder for Roderick, with his hand being smaller than ours.”

“I’m not out of this just yet,” Roderick replied, a determined look on his face. “I go first now, right? One five…”

-xXx-

“By the Gods’,” Roderick sighed, flicking his final dice away. “What am I supposed to do with just one dice? How can I bounce back? This game’s unfair.”

“Perhaps you should try not losing all your dice in the first few rounds,” Wilfred suggested with an amused chuckle.

“Or stop being a bad liar,” Skyseeker added, joining Wilfred as she giggled.

“Laugh it up, both of you,” Roderick muttered. “If we were playing something more about strategy, and less about chance, our positions would be reversed.”

She could see that his sore loser façade was just an act, Roderick subduing a grin as he placed another of her rightful treats to her ever-increasing bounty of food. Wilfred’s winnings were almost as numerous as hers, Skyseeker having bluffed him down to just two dice, while she still had three.

“I’m amazed you picked up the rules so quickly,” Wilfred mused. “Then again, deception is one of the key qualities the Skaven are masters of. One six.”

“This is fun!” she chimed, considering her next bet. “Psst! Rick-rod! Does man-wizard have a three?”

“I’m not going to cheat on your behalf,” Roderick replied, her question amusing him all the same. He pushed his chair out, rising from the desk. “Where’s the nearest bathroom on this tub? Assuming I don’t have to relieve myself into the ocean…”

“It’s over on the bow,” Wilfred explained. “just below the forecastle. Need me to show you?”

“I’ll find my way. You’ll be alright here, lass?” Roderick asked, turning to her.

His concern for her was amusing – very much misplaced of course – yet it also made her feel… odd, to be a subject of someone’s worry, especially when that someone was him.

“Yes-Yes,” she said, waving a paw, feigning indifference. “Stop staring and go drain worm already.”

“How do you even know that expression?” he asked, Skyseeker refusing to elaborate. Teasing Roderick was her best way of making him both amused and annoyed at her antics, a combination she found she very much enjoyed for whatever reason.

The door clicked behind Roderick as he left, leaving Skyseeker alone with the wizard. Even though Roderick trusted the magician, and said magician had stood up for her when they’d spoken with the captain, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down around him, her mind processing the odds she could reach his staff before he did, if he got any funny ideas.

“Why only put one bathroom on boat?” she asked, glancing down at her dice. “A lot of man-things here to share singular bath.”

“There’s actually another,” Wilfred explained. “the officer’s lavatory is just behind and to the left there. I wanted to give you and I some time alone, as Roderick will be occupied for a little while yet.”

“Deceptive,” she replied, nodding her muzzle. The wizard was sly despite his appearance, she would have to double her suspicions of him. “Alright what you want? Warpstone? Gold? Spent it all last night so don’t bother.”

“No, no,” the wizard chuckled. “I merely wish to sate my curiosity. It’s not everyday one gets to converse with a Skaven without a knife upon their throat. It’s your turn by the way, miss Seeker.”

“One six, you said?” She hummed to herself as she considered her bet, her train of thought interrupted as the wizard spoke up.

“So tell me, is there not some creed or belief that stops you from cooperating with people like ourselves?” Wilfred asked. “As far as I know, there have been no instances of our people working together. Perhaps allying with a common man would be one thing, but a Skaven and an Imperial general? I would never believe it if I’d not been there.”

“Rick-rod accepted deal-pact,” she explained, her tail flicking in irritation. “Saw he could be useful in crossing man-thing province, so I… employed cooperation. Two two’s.”

“You view him as a means to an end, then?” he prodded, his fingers drumming on the table. “What exactly did you offer him in return? Two sixes.”

“Uh, g-gold? Gold! A-And warpstone. Not actually have warpstone, but worked out loan terms. Sorta.”

“Really? Wealth isn’t much of an interest to Roderick, as far as I’m aware.”

“Maybe Fredwil not know Rick-rod, like I know Rick-rod,” she said, and in an attempt to skirt around the issue altogether, added: “Call! Let’s see your die-dice!”

Wilfred lifted his hand away, revealing a pair of sixes, just as he’d bet.

“Impossible,” she grumbled. “you swapped dice out.”

“Or perhaps I’ve learned to read you, miss Seeker.”

She grumbled as she flicked one of her dice away, narrowing her hand down to just two dice, the same as Wilfred’s. His words carried an implied meaning, and she feared the wizard was onto her lies. She had to turn the conversation back on him.

“So!” she began, the two of them rolling their dice. “Rick-rod not tell me much about you-you. How you meet?”

“On the fields of battle, twenty or so years ago,” Wilfred said. “Orcs had invaded the northern provinces, and I happened to be sent as an attaché to his regiment. He was just an officer back then, not yet proved in the Emperor’s eyes. Blocked an arrow flying at with me with his shield at one point. Since then we’ve worked together on many a campaign.”

“That why you help him now? You in Rick-rod’s debt?”

“Of a manner,” Wilfred agreed. “It has been my life’s goal to preserve the Empire, but almost being felled by that arrow made me realise I am not immortal. One day the earth shall reclaim my body, and the only way for me to continue aiding my people is to guide the young towards a brighter path. Roderick shows great promise, and is a fine friend.”

“Promise? That why you teached him magics, yes-yes?” she prompted. “One five,” she added, realising it was her turn to start the round.

“Indeed I did. I’m surprised he told you about that, he’s embarrassed to bring it up in most people’s company. One six.”

“Skyseeker knows all of Rick-rod’s secrets,” she snickered, trying to sound as conniving as possible.

“Indeed? Perhaps the roots of this ‘pact’ you two made run deeper than it seems?” Wilfred asked, scrutinising her with his green eyes. “It sounds like you’ve become more than just allies.”

“He is… good friend,” she admitted, averting her gaze. “b-but don’t tell him I said that! Want to keep him in dark. Two three’s.”

“He said you were ostracised from your Clan,” he mused, tilting his head towards his hand. “While I understand that can make one feel… aimless, I can’t seem to figure out why you’d choose to follow him onto our ship. Did he tell you anything about where we are going, or why? Crossing the Tilean Sea is a long way from home for a Skaven, yet you seem unperturbed.”

“I’m perturbed!” she insisted. “Perturbed up to my whiskers. Just thinking of desert place makes fur stand on end. See?”

“I wonder what else Roderick told you about himself,” Wilfred continued, lifting his head and giving her a suspicious look. “Surely you must have asked him about his purpose in Tilea, and if so, what had been his answer? Furthermore, what had been your business in a country full of humans? He seemed evasive when I questioned him about your meeting, maybe because your purposes had… correlated?”

She opened her mouth to speak, preparing herself to deny his accusations using her astounding lying skills. This wizard reminded her of Lord Gnawdwell, in a way. He may not be surrounded by a vast collection of tomes and scrolls, but that didn’t mean he was any less stupid. She would have to choose her next words with great care…

“I dismiss your claims,” she stated, waving an authorative paw. “Skaven knows nothing of relic-thing, or its mind controlling warp-power! And… uh oh…”

She clamped her muzzle shut with her paws, but too late, the words had already reached the wizard’s ears. Flustered, she tried to take it all back, her rambling starting off as a babbled collection of incoherent sounds before they took shape.

“W-W-Wait second! Can explain all things! Rick-rod never spoke of relic to me, knew about it wayyy before! Wasn’t going to steal it!” she added, dropping onto her paws and knees. “Promise! Please don’t turn Skaven into mice, Fredwil! I HATE mice! Stupid fleshy tails and their oversized ears…”

“Peace, miss Seeker,” Wilfred said, holding up his hand. “I won’t turn you into anything. I just wished to know the truth.”

“You… not mad?” she asked, still wary of the magician as she looked up at him, then to his staff. He hadn’t made a move towards it yet.

“Absolutely not. If anything, you’ve piqued my interest even more. I knew the changing Winds would be felt by others outside of the Conclave, but not at what capacity. Fascinating that the Skaven felt its presence too, many had theorised your species was too… ignorant of such things.”

Skyseeker let the insult slide, leaning back on her chair as she snacked on a ration, the salty taste on her tongue calming her down. Playing dumb had its merits, the less this ‘Conclave’ knew about the Skaven’s limitless capabilities, the better.

“I am interested in how you obtained such information regardless,” Wilfred continued. “Will you indulge me, miss Seeker?”

“Only if you indulge Skaven first,” she replied. The wizard had power over her now that her secret was out in the open, she had to bounce back and get something useful out of this exchange.

“Very well,” he conceded, his curiosity getting the better of him, just as Skyseeker planned. “A few months ago, the Conclave felt the Winds of Magic shift, not unlike the rippling surface of a disturbed pond. Ripples have been felt countless times before, but his one was especially different. The Conclave has many rituals which allow us to pluck, if you will, at a ripple’s focal point, allowing us to traverse immense distances without ever leaving our towers. Yet those who’d tried to attune to this ripple in particular were met with uncharacteristic resistance. Some wizards experienced momentary insanity, others short-term memory loss. An unfortunate few even began attacking those around them.”

She remembered what Lord Gnawdwell had told her of the relic, how the one who wields it could bend the minds of those around them. It seemed too particular to be coincidence.

“Whether these obstructions were through divine intervention by the Gods’, or some unknown force, we could not say,” Wilfred continued. “As such, I was dispatched to recover its source, and enlisting Roderick in the cause would both clear his name, and garner another source of power and knowledge for the Empire.”

“Does Conclave always steal relics for itself?” she asked.

“Steal? The Conclave brings artifacts to the Empire for safekeeping, where they are studied for years, sometimes centuries, so that they’re powers may be used properly, and kept away from those who would misuse them.”:

“So Skaven usage isn’t ‘proper’, but man-things is?”

This Conclave seemed to have a lot in common with the pompous Great Clans, always thinking themselves above Mors’ rats, when in fact it was the other way around.

“I did not mean to imply offense,” Wilfred added. “What are your intentions with the artifact? Perhaps, like us, you plan to research its capabilities?”

“Clan Mors is going to control all of Skavendom!” she explained, rocking back and forth on her chair. While revealing her Clan’s schemes wasn’t the best idea, what was this wizard going to do? He already knew every rat would be after the relic, and he just told her he wouldn’t turn her into a mouse. He’d sabotaged himself, so Skyseeker could afford to reveal certain information without too much consequence.

“Once I put relic into Lord’s paw-paws,” she continued. “Clan Mors will rise to number one of Council of Thirteen. No command will be ignored, no rat will want to join any other Clan. Council always fighting itself,” she added. “but, with Supreme and Merciless War-King Tyrant-General in charge, peace will reign through all of under-empire.”

“A Skaven speaks of peace,” Wilfred mused, clasping his hands together. The movement inadvertently revealed his dice, but the game was long forgotten by this point. “Knowing your history, I’m adamant to believe such a thing would last long.”

“Peace for Skaven,” she elaborated. “not for surface-dwellers. Better watch out, Fredwil, Tillea invasion is but a whisker of what Skavendom can do-make.”

“A unified Skaven Empire would spell disaster for the unprepared,” he said, a concerned look on his weathered face. Skyseeker enjoyed the fact she’d put the wizard on the back foot. “So your reasoning for coming all this way, is to further the standing of your Lord? Is that all?”

“No,” she snarled. “With my exemplary performance prove-proved, will be made into Lord’s right paw rat! All Skaven will know Skyseeker won’t be put into breeding pits with rest of females. Skyseeker won’t be tortured for stealing ever again. Skyseeker will be free.”

“Assuming your leader can harness the artifact’s power,” Wilfred cautioned. “While the Conclave has theorised it can influence people’s intents, its mind-control properties may go both ways. Do you truly believe your Lord will be able to use it, or will it perhaps use him as soon as he lays a finger on it? Will it control you, if you were to touch it?”

“Had not considered that,” she admitted, chewing on a claw as she pondered. “Relic not have its own will, it’s just a thing!”

“Everything has a will,” Wilfred said. “even a tree has thoughts, mundane as it may appear. This is even more apparent in tools forged by the Gods, which for all we know may be the case with the artifact. Take the Sword of Khaine, or the Ghal Maraz, for instance, weapons that have been known to favour particular users over others, tools that have altered history as much as the ones who’ve wielded them. Some measure of sentience was forged into their creation, and only fools would try and deny it.”

“Lord wouldn’t send me if he thought I was fool,” she replied.

“Again, I don’t mean to insult you,” Wilfred said, though she was beginning to think it was all empty words. “You have shown great resourcefulness in making it this far, but interacting with something potentially crafted by the Gods requires more than cunning and deception. This is why I am here, after all.”

“You’re coming to relic place?” she asked.

“Naturally,” he replied. “Roderick’s magical aptitude is woefully inept. Only one with sufficient training and knowledge of the Winds should walk into close proximity of the artifact. Why do you frown, Miss Seeker? My abilities will come in handy on the path ahead.”

And keeping an eye on you won’t hurt either, his eyes said, though Wilfred didn’t speak them. She’d been right to treat this wizard with suspicion. On the outside he was all niceties and manners, but deep down was that lingering distrust all man-things showed to Skaven. She didn’t blame him, however. He was right to assume she would do whatever it took to claim the relic. She’d only gone and explained so just now.

After a few moments, the silence was broken by the door opening, Skyseeker turning round to see Roderick returning to the cabin, the sight of him soothing her pounding heartbeat.

“I think I’m just going to hold it in next time,” Roderick mumbled. “There wasn’t even a door, just a flimsy curtain. What did I miss?”

“We might have to change the game to Skaven’s Dice,” Wilfred replied, raising his hands. “Miss Seeker here has me on the ropes.”

“Truly?” Roderick asked, glancing down to see their number of dice were even. “I’m sorry I missed it. I knew you were good at deceiving, lass, but this is impressive. Wilfed plays this game all the time.”

“She is a crafty one,” Wilfred added, a small grin on his cracked lips as he eyed her. “Well? Shall we continue, miss Seeker?”

“Uhm… Tired, now,” she stammered, looking away. It wasn’t a lie, Wilfred’s implied warning had drained her of energy. “another time and place, perhaps. Want to have nap.”

“It’s only… what, five o’clock?” Roderick asked. “Come on, I want to see you floor him, Sky.”

“Tired,” she said again, flashing him a silent, pleading look. He seemed to notice she was uncomfortable, and dropped the subject with a shrug. Again, the fact he was good at reading her disturbed her, but not in a bad way.

“It has been a long and exciting day,” Roderick admitted, looking to Wilfred.

“We’ll call that one your win, Miss Seeker,” Wilfred said, collecting up the dice, storing them in his box. “I shall retire to my cabin as well. If you need anything, just knock.”

Roderick bid him goodbye as the wizard retrieved his staff, moving back to his room, which was directly opposite their own. Bundling up her rightfully won food, she scurried over to her and Roderick’s own cabin, her friend following her inside the cramped space, closing the door behind him.

“Everything okay, lass?” he asked as he settled on the bed. “You look troubled.”

“Rick-rod knows Skaven too well,” she chuckled, but it was a forced sound. “Fredwil… said things when you left.”

“What kind of things?” he pressed, raising a brow. “Tell me.”

“He knows,” she began. “Man-wizard tricked me into giving up mission details! Actually, think he knew right from start, but that besides the point-point.”

“That’s… troubling,” Roderick mused. “How did he take it?”

“He said Skaven having relic isn’t proper,” she replied, spitting that last word out. “Said better for Conclave to safekeep. Thought relic would brainwash me once I touched it! Me! Brainwashed! I’m the most disciplined rat on this boat!”

“That, I can’t deny,” Roderick agreed. His eyes flicked up and away, then back as he made to continue. He seemed hesitant. “Maybe you should heed his advice, lass. He knows more about the artifact than anyone.”

“You question my abilities?”

“Wilfred’s older than you and I combined, he has the wisdom of multiple generations. If anyone knows best on how to handle the artifact, it’s him.”

“So man-thing takes his side, yes-yes?” she asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Typical. Man-things teaming up on the breeder-rat.”

“I am on no one’s side,” Roderick insisted, raising a gauntlet. “Wilfred is just trying to help you. And so what if the Conclave wants to safeguard it? Is that worse than whatever it is your Lord would use it for?”

“Has stupid man-thing not been listening? Bringing relic-thing to Lord’s paws is the only way Skaven will be free from slave life. Breeder life.”

“But you’re free from all that right now,” Roderick pointed out. “you’re so far from your Lord’s influence, that he can’t touch you. His orders don’t matter anymore.”

“What about man-thing Emperor? Rick-rod still following his mission, despite distance.”

“That’s different,” Roderick snapped. “I am here at the behest of the greatest man alive. This expedition will ensure the Empire’s prosperity.”

“Empire, Under-Empire, Emperors and Lords, all sounds the same-same to my ears!”

“Your leader and mine are nothing alike,” Roderick protested. “The Emperor protects and serves millions of citizens.”

“And Gnawdwell protects millions of rats! You think man-things deserve protection more than rat-things?”

“We’re not vermin who scurry through the filth and defile our women, so yes, I think they do.”

“And man-things not do those things? Skaven has walked city-streets, seen what humans do to each other. Trade with one paw, kill with other. Excuse all wrongdoing by hiding behind weak Gods! You more like vermin than most Skaven are, too pretentious to admit it!”

“We can point out our faults all day, but that doesn’t change the fact that my people want to treasure the relic, while yours would use its abilities to wreak havoc.”

“This not just about Lord!” she sighed, grasping her muzzle in frustration.

“Then what is it about!”

“My parentrat!”

The pair stared one another down for a moment, Roderick the first to break it as he blinked. She realised she’d shouted loud enough to be heard by the wizard, but she didn’t care.

“What about her?” Roderick demanded, his tone a little softer. Skyseeker paced back and forth through the cabin as she began to explain.

“When Rick-rod talked about parents, then that… dream-thing happened, plan-scheme came to mind. If I took relic-thing, no rat would stand in my way-way. Stormvermin, slaves, ratwives, all would have to obey, or be kill-killed. With relic in paw, could scurry back to breeding pits like Lord Gnawdwell himself, command ratwives to release parentrat!”

“You… want to save your mother?” he asked.

“Just as she saved me as pup,” she replied, nodding. “Then we both free.”

“That’s… a noble deed,” Roderick admitted, scratching his chin. “Could the relic do all that?”

“Only find out once I lay paws on it,” she answered.

“What about your freedom? Your Lord wouldn’t take kindly to you releasing a breeder, would he? He’d hunt you down like a dog.”

“Skavenblight’s tunnels stretch far, he’ll not know to stop-halt in time. And if he does… will die knowing that Skaven at least try-tried.”

“I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you,” Roderick apologised, Skyseeker blinking at him. “I didn’t know the scope of your plan went beyond simply fulfilling your duty to your Lord. I still think Wilfred’s words hold some truth to them,” he added, Skyseeker faltering at that. “We will have his council from now on, we should put it to good use.”

“Rick-rod didn’t say he would be coming to desert with us,” she muttered.

“I thought it was obvious,” Roderick replied.

Skyseeker stared between her feet, a soup of emotions swirling through her chest. Anger at the wizard’s lies, frustration at herself for not telling Roderick her true plan sooner, and fear. Fear that Roderick was picking Wilfred over her, even though he told her otherwise. As a Skaven, she was used to being knifed in the back by those she once called allies, but somehow, the thought of being betrayed by Roderick made her feel terrible.

It shouldn’t have surprised her. Roderick and Wilfred had known one another for years – how long had it been for she and Roderick? A few scant weeks? Making a pact with him had been futile from the start, but she wouldn’t go back and change it if given the power.

That point he raised about her Lord piqued her interest. She was so very far from Skavenblight, from Gnawdwell, and that distance only grew by the minute. She’d never been as free as she was right now. She could make up her own schemes, do her own thing, but could she survive without her Clan? Her ability was beyond measure, but she of all people knew the difficulties of going alone into the world.

“Perhaps it isn’t so early for rest,” Roderick suggested, his words snapping her out of her thoughts. He took one of the two sheets laying on the bed, starting to fluff it out. “A good sleep will clear our heads, and we can worry about this later. Think we can both fit?”

Her eyes widened, did he still wish to sleep with her? As much as she craved to feel his warmth again, a bigger part of her was quick to temper the impulse. Roderick’s true duty lay with his Empire, that was obvious now, and his alliance with the wizard was stronger than her deals of friendship.

“I’ll take corner,” she mumbled, snatching the other sheet. She moved as far away from the bed as possible, throwing the sheet down and bundling it up to form a suitable nest.

“Oh,” he said. Was that disappointment she heard? “Are you sure, lass? It’s not that much smaller than the one in the inn.”

“Rat’s sleep better alone,” she replied in a cold voice, even though that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“As you wish,” Roderick muttered. She could feel his eyes on her as she threw herself into the nest, bundling her cloak over her head as she turned to face the wall. “Goodnight, lass.”

She tried her best to ignore him as he walked over to the bed, begingin to take off his armour, Skyseeker resisting the urge to help him as she tried to get some sleep.

-xXx-

Skyseeker awoke with a frown, finding a beam of bright light shining directly into her muzzle. Wiping the residue from her tired eyes, she sat up from her haphazard nest, noting that through the slit of the curtains was a ray of sunshine. It must be dawn. Usually she’d sleep in until much later in the day, but something had stirred her from her slumber.

“-any difference regardless,” she heard a voice say. Was that Roderick? Did he not know by now what her nap-times were? How inconsiderate. She turned to the bed, ready to berate him, but blinked when she realised he wasn’t inside the cabin.

“It would if the Emperor ever found out,” another voice answered, one that belonged to the conniving man-wizard. It seemed the two were having a discussion just outside her room, Skyseeker moving over to the door, placing a paw on the handle. She was about to give the two a good dressing down for being so loud, but after taking a moment to think, she noted they were speaking in hushed voices. It was only thanks to her estimable hearing that she could pick up their voices with such clarity.

She considered her next move. As long as she was stealthy, which was something she did quite well, she could eavesdrop on their conversation, but was spying on her only friend the best decision? His loyalties were in question since their talks last night, but she had tried so very hard to reciprocate Roderick’s niceties – her stealing that firearm being the first of many acts to come. She didn’t want to ruin that by intruding on his privacy. However… he couldn’t get angry at her if he never found out, right?

Now thoroughly convinced, she dropped to her knees, pressing her ear against the crack between the door and the floor, chuckling at her own brilliance before going quiet. If these two were scheming, she had to find out about it.

“He won’t know,” Roderick said. “Not unless you were lying before, and the Conclave wouldn’t be interested.”

“Far from it,” Wilfred replied. “but what of the good captain? Or the dozens of sailors under his command? Word will spread quickly once we return to Imperial waters. You and I will be accused of colluding with Chaos if we don’t control the spread of information. The Conclave can learn much from a Skaven captive, certainly, but the fact remains it was you alone who recruited her to this expedition. How do you think the people will react?”

“She’s not a captive,” Roderick corrected. “and let the people say what they will. If we’re going to defeat Chaos, gaining something from it, an ally in this case, will go a long way towards reaching that goal.”

“Perhaps you’ve let too much of it in, Roderick.”

“What would you have me do? Cast her off the bow? Leave her in Arabia, maybe? I cannot bring her to harm, she’s my…”

“Enemy,” Wilfred finished for him. “An ally at the moment, yes, but what of tomorrow? Or after the artifact is reclaimed? To trust in Chaos is to lead a dark path, and friendly or not, miss Seeker is Skaven, a spawn of Chaos. No amount of time you’ve spent together can change that.”

“If that’s the case, why’d you let me bring her on board in the first place? One would think you’d have shot her with one of those… vine spells of yours.”

“Don’t mistake my warnings for hostility. I respect all living things, even the Skaven, and causing miss Seeker any undo harm troubles me as much as it does to you. But you must not let your feelings for her distract you from your goal. Letting the artifact fall into the hands of the Skaven could spell disaster.”

“My loyalty to the Empire has not wavered.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Roderick. Perhaps I phrased that the wrong way. It just seems that your… bond, to Miss Seeker has clouded your thoughts. I ask that you remind yourself why it is we started this expedition in the first place. Bringing success here could tip the scales in our favour, don’t let your feelings for her distract you from that. Once the artifact is ours, whatever becomes of miss Seeker afterward, I leave that in your hands.”

“Perhaps we should ask her what she wants to do,” Roderick suggested. “I can’t make her give up her mission, nor can I make her return to the Empire to be studied by the Conclave.”

“Then convince her if you can, otherwise…” A pause, and then he called out: “Miss Seeker?”

Skyseeker slapped her face with a palm. In her attempt to push her ear further under the door, she’d applied too much pressure to the floor, and the wood had made a tiny creaking sound. Not tiny enough for the wizard’s hearing, however.

Jumping out of her fur, Skyseeker stood up, and threw the door open with a swift kick of her foot. She barged into the room, pretending she hadn’t heard anything.

“Morning, man-things!” she chimed, placing her paws on her wide hips. “What’s for breakfast?”

“It’s back to salted rations I’m afraid,” Roderick answered. He was sitting behind the game table they’d set up the night prior, a plate of tiny bones sat before him. “At least the fish is different.”

Roderick didn’t seem caught onto the fact she’d been spying on him. Or perhaps he was, and was just not showing it. Wilfred on the other paw, was narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously, but he didn’t make a comment. She concluded she’d made a daring escape just in time.

“So!” she began, rounding the table. “What on agenda today? We at desert yet?”

“It’s a long way still. And I’m afraid there’s little in the way of accommodations on this ship,” Wilfred replied. “However, I’ve got plenty of other fun games right here,” he added, producing his carboard box again, what seemed like a hundred different sets of dice jangling like crazy.

“Need to stretch legs and smell air first,” Skyseeker replied. “Paw-feet not used to all this non-walking.”

“Perhaps later, then,” Wilfred conceded, stashing his box beneath the table, disappointment evident in his eyes.

“I think I’ll join you,” Roderick added. “I’ll get leg cramps otherwise.”

“I-If you want,” Skyseeker stammered, glancing up at him. She scampered over to the exit, Roderick following her out onto the deck as he bid the wizard farewell.

The sunlight blared out from the sky in full force, but she was ready for it this time, her goggles affixed tightly against her eyes as she took in a huff of salty air, the taste stinging her gums. She noted Roderick was carrying a paper parcel, but didn’t comment on it, Skyseeker turning and making her way around the cabin. There was less equipment on the far side, and less sailors too, Skyseeker comfortable enough to lower her guard a notch as she warmed up her long legs.

She skittered up onto the railing, turning her back to the ocean as she peered over at Roderick. For a moment neither of them said a word, and then he held out the strange parcel to her, Skyseeker blinking up at him.

“Peace offering,” he explained without her having to ask. He unwrapped the parcel, exposing one of those fish things she’d spotted back in the port, except stripped of its scaled, the exposed, pinkish flesh wisping trails of steam.

She gripped it by the tail, the creature flopping before her pink nose as she took a sniff. It smelled nice, so she popped it in her mouth, chewing a few times before forcing it down, smacking her lips as she considered the taste.

“You’re… not supposed to eat the bones,” Roderick mumbled. “You like it? I’ve got another right here, I managed to convince the chefs to lend me some extra rations.”

“Does man-thing presume he can make peace by offering food?” she asked, jabbing a finger at his chestplate. “Because… you presume correctly!”

“I know,” he chuckled, offering her another parcel. As she devoured the fish wrapped inside, he leant against the railing beside her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wanted to apologise,” Roderick began, the ocean wind ruffling his long hair. “I can say some pretty hurtful things when I’m questioned, and you didn’t deserve any of what I said.”

“Two for two. Rick-rod’s correct again,” she replied, looking away pointedly.

“I knew we’d get into an argument eventually about this relic, artifact, what have you,” Roderick continued. “I suppose it’s only come up now because I’ve spent every moment worrying over gryphon’s and rats and just trying to make it onto this ship alive. Being surrounded by my countrymen has freed up a lot of my thoughts.”

“I’ve arrived to same conclusion,” Skyseeker replied, spinning across the railing so that her feet dangled over the ocean. “Need danger to occupy headspace, but danger bad for health. Ironic!”

“There is also irony in Wilfred’s advice. While I still believe him to be in the right…”

“Here we go-go…”

“Let me finish. While his wisdom shouldn’t be ignored, I can name several instances where his foresight has failed him. He didn’t know about your existence until recently, for one thing. Even the wisest minds can be wrong sometimes.”

“A sentiment I can relate too!” Skyseeker chittered. “Am sorry as well, Rick-rod,” she added. “called man-thing pretentious, but you the most kindiest thing I have ever met-met. So selfless and… uh, selfless.”

“Perhaps I was being a little pompous. I did call you vermin,” Roderick said, shaking his head in disapproval. “it seems so pointless in hindsight. We’re still a long way from the artifact, and here we are, arguing about what we’re going to do with some magical thing we don’t understand, let alone what it even looks like. There’s simply too many unknowns at this stage.”

“We both were being silly,” Skyseeker said. “Need to argue over now things! Like that boat over there!”

“Exactly, and- Wait a moment, what boat?”

She pointed a nonchalant finger over the water, across the waves the ship left in its wake.

“That boat!”

“I see nothing,” Roderick replied, phrasing it almost like a question. He shielded his eyes against the sunshine, squinting as he searched the area she’d indicated.

“Maybe because man-thing has no super goggles,” she suggested, tapping at the lens with her nail.

“Are you quite certain? Can you see any flags or discernible marks? Is it a Tilean vessel?”

“Unknown!” she answered, turning the zooming dial to its maximum setting, the sound of winding gears filling her head. “But, do know that it follows us, just like Rick-rod followed me on your horse-thing, remember? Once it’s closer, will know more details.”

“We need to call this in,” Roderick said, pushing off the railing. “Wait here.”

He turned and walked down the deck, Skyseeker bundling herself up in her cloak as the sea breeze ruffled her fur. They had distanced far enough away from Tilea that she could no longer see any landmass, bobbing water dominating the scenery in all directions. She had never beheld so much water in her life, not even the sallow swamps compared to this so-called ocean. While it was as wondrous as the skies, she was also intimidated by it. According to Roderick, man-eating fish lived below the waves, and there had been no shortage of men being devoured alive by the aquatic life throughout history. Good thing she wasn’t a man, though that wasn’t to say her own people hadn’t encountered dangerous marine life in the past.

A few minutes later, Roderick returned, this time in the company of none other than the clawcaptain, Von Kessel, his feathered hat and puffy tunic rippling in the wind. Skyseeker turned her gaze away. Not because she feared the clawcaptain, but because his attire was overstimulating her senses. Perhaps her goggles had some sort of grey filter that could block it out?

“Pray to the Emperor that you’re not mistaken, rat,” Von Kessel grumbled as he took up position nearby. “I do not like being called away from my duties.”

“She has no reason to lie,” Roderick added, but his affirmation had little effect on the grumpy sailor.

Von Kessel reached into his tunic, producing a device that resembled a cylinder composed of bronze metal, about the size of her paw. He pinched one end of the device between his fingers, Skyseeker watching in astonishment as he began to peel the cylinder out until it resembled a tube.

“What is that-that?” she demanded. The device extended further, its length matching her arm, then exceeding it. It appeared there were multiple layers of the cylinder nested inside the casing.

“A spyglass,” Roderick answered. “It uses mirrors and lenses to allow one to see further away. Much like your goggles do, I imagine.”

“SSHH!” she hissed. “Don’t give secrets away!”

The clawcaptain had to use both hands to hold the elongated spyglass steady, the man sweeping the frontal lens from left to right as he surveyed the ocean. She thought the clawcaptain would miss the mysterious boat, but he hesitated in one of his sweeps, the spyglass no doubt making up for his stupid eyesight.

“It seems your scouting ability is not in question, Skaven,” Von Kessel muttered. Perhaps he’d been praying she’d been wrong, and would use that as an excuse to finally toss her off the ship. “Even my spotters haven’t raised the alarm yet, and their eyes are good.”

“I’m BETTER than good-good,” Skyseeker snickered, glad for the opportunity to rub it in a little.

“No colours,” Von Kessel continued. “The sail’s are as ragged as a worn out pair of knickers, and the wood’s rotted. Must be pirates. Their course appears to match ours…”

“Perhaps its coincidence,” Roderick suggested. “These aren’t abandoned waters by any stretch. Tilea relies on its sea trade routes after all.”

“Yet we aren’t following any trade routes,” Von Kessel said. “Few would dare sail so close to Sartosa waters, fewer still who would follow a fully-manned wolfship. Whoever they are, they’re either brave or stupid.”

“Methinks its Clan Skurvy ratship,” Skyseeker piped in. She cupped a paw around her mouth, raising her voice at the miniature ship. “Mangy rats! Stay away from relic!”

“Clan Skurvy?” Roderick asked. “What’s their specialty? Ships, I suppose?”

“Very smart, Rick-rod. Skurvy have biggest clanfleet,” she said, holding her arms out wide for emphasis. “However! Don’t take very good care of ships, so not very big threat to Skaven.”

“How many ships are there in this ‘clanfleet’?” Von Kessel asked.

“Uh… at least one! More than one.”

“Very helpful,” the clawcaptain muttered. “I’ll have to double the watch,” he added, pressing his spyglass back into its compacted state. “if they don’t alter course within the day, we may have company, Skaven, pirates, whoever they are.”

Giving her a cursory glance, the clawcaptain walked off without a word, raising his voice at a few nearby sailors as he relayed her findings to his crew.

“How rude!” Skyseeker complained, turning to Roderick. “not even say thank you.”

“Be glad he at least acknowledged your efforts,” Roderick replied, looking out to sea. “He’ll be a little less sure that you’re his adversary now.”

“Question,” she said, Roderick gesturing for her to ask. “Just then, Kessel-man said something about Sar-to-sa. What’s is that?”

“Sartosa is a pirate haven,” Roderick explained. “Just off the southern tip of Tilea is an island of the same name. You might be able to see it off the portside soon, depending on how good your goggles are. I hear every one who lives there is a vampire.”

“Vam-pire? Not know this word-word.”

“It’s a foul creature that drinks the blood of any living thing it can get its dirty hands on.”

“Oh, them! Seen one of those once. Maybe. Won’t be seeing any now, will we?” she chittered, darting her head round.

“We’ll be giving Sartosa a wide berth,” he said, her fear-musk repressing at that. “Although, pirates infest the Tilean Sea like a disease. There’s a good chance we’ll run into one of their ships. That frigate following us may very well be one of theirs.”

“Don’t say that!” she squeeked. “Don’t want blood to be suck-drinked. I need my blood!”

“No reason to be alarmed,” Roderick said. “We’re over a hundred men strong, plus one Skaven. We can withstand any vampiric force.”

“I have every reasoning. Rick-rod not know the story of the Skabrus?”

“No, but I’m guessing you’re about to tell me.”

“Once upon a time-time, there was a mighty Skurvy warlord named Skretch. He was rat pirate number one – had biggest fleet, and biggest warpstone booty. That was, until giant monster came from depths and gobbled him up, ship and all! Skretch hates being gobbled, so he stabs it from the inside, kills monster-thing as punishment, but monster doesn’t let him go, no-no! He drowns in water along with monster. Council declares him dead-dead that day, but fleet survivors chittered otherwise. Rats say he still sails, not on boat no, but… on monster-thing itself! Skretch was un-deaded by vampires into forever service! W-Why are you not squirting fear-musk?”

“Because that’s ridiculous,” Roderick replied. “You think there is a rat sailing a dead fish out there? That’s something you’d tell your children to scare them into behaving.”

“You’ll be more than scared when Skretch comes for us-us on his Skabrus! You think rats bad? Not-dead rats MUCH worse!”

-xXx-

Fur as dark as opal

Eyes the shade of ruby

Some would call you as vile as Nurgle

But you’re just gems to me

If you were to be my one

My heart would explode, like a powder gun

Roderick dipped his quill into the ink pot, his chair creaking as he stretched his shoulders. He’d been hunched over the desk for hours, and dusk had fallen, the cabin lit by a solitary candle to his right.

It had taken longer than it should have to complete the poem, but he’d finally sorted out his feelings towards the rat woman. Some would consider his new perspective a shift towards corruption of his faith, but what business was it of theirs? Skaven or not, he welcomed her company, and what harm was there in asking for a little bit more of it?

Folding the poem into his pocket, he made his way out onto the deck, closing the cabin door on the way out, gazing down the ship’s length in search of Skyseeker. Wilfred had agreed to watch over her while he penned his feelings, it was just a matter of finding one or the other.

By the time Roderick had walked down to the main deck, he knew that something was amiss. Most of the sailors were down in the hull, resting at this hour, but those who were still on duty seemed distracted. Those on the starboard side were gazing out over the ocean, dropping spools of rope and crates of supplies to stop and stare.

Was it the mysterious ship? The vessel had gotten closer and closer over time, somehow able to ride the currents faster than the wolfship, despite its ramshackle appearance.

Turning his eyes up, he saw the telltale green robe of the wizard near one of the larger groups clustered near the bulwark, just beside the forecastle. Roderick made his way up the stairs, glancing at the towering bunker of weaponry that made up the ship’s prow before he tapped Wilfred on the shoulder, asking the old man what was going on.

“See for yourself,” Wilfred replied, stepping aside. As Roderick came forward to see what the commotion was, he froze in his tracks.

Through the gloom of the sea sparked yellow points of brief light, the thunder of cannon shot reaching his ears in eerie echoes. More flashes followed, tens of them flicking on and off in rapid succession, the early night sky awash with fire. They were too far into the distance to discern their source, but it was obvious that those were ships firing upon something.

“A fleet,” Roderick muttered. “But whose?”

“Sartosa’s, I’d imagine,” Wilfred answered, gesturing with his staff. “they are the only major naval force near here, and their island isn’t far.”

“What is that?” one of the sailors shouted. From between the explosions, new sharp instances of colour emerged, tinting the rippling waters an ominous green. Like a horizontal lightning strike, electricity lanced across the ocean, one such current connecting to one of the Sartosan ships, flames rising from the impact.

“Warp lightning! Yes-Yes-Yes!” a feminine voice cackled, its owner obvious enough. Just to one side of the gathered group was Skyseeker, the little Skaven’s tail flicking to and fro behind her. “Fellow Skaven have bigger, better cannons compared to man-things. Uh, former fellow Skaven,” she added when some of the sailors turned to stare at her.

“So much for my plan of staying ahead of your kin, lass,” Roderick muttered, sidling up beside her. There were too many ships to count, the Skaven and pirate vessels seeming to line the horizon, and that was only what could be seen by the light of the cannon fire. “The pirates seem to be occupying them, if nothing else.”

“Hello Rick-rod,” Skyseeker chimed. “Yes-Yes, Skurvy would have big start on other Clans. Good thing Vampires helping to keep rats busy! Would have lost race to relic otherwise.”

They looked out to the battling ships for a while, Roderick placing a hand on his pocket, brushing his poem with his gloved fingers. Skyseeker seemed to notice his hesitation, tapping him on the thigh with a paw.

“You got that look on face, Rick-rod,” she noted. “What is it? Scared of Skurvy?”

“No, nothing like that,” he answered. “I just… I have something for you.”

Damn it, why was his heart starting to race? He wasn’t some fresh-faced recruit trying to woo his first wench, and yet he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive of her reaction to his confession. Would she appreciate his candour, or laugh in his face?

“Oh!” she cooed. “Present? What is it, warpstone? New knife? If you have third weeping dagger I will shriek so loud Horned Rat will hear me-me!”

“Well, it’s-”

A deafening crack rippled through the sky, the hairs on Roderick’s arms standing on end as the sky turned into a morbid shade of green. Arching overhead was another of those warp lightning strikes, but far closer, the dancing fingers of electricity as thick around as trees. The perverted energies arced through the air beside the ship’s hull, just skimming the water’s surface. It sizzled out of existence in an instant, but Roderick was still able to see its strange shapes burned into his retinas.

“Sigmar’s balls!” he shouted, turning towards the two opposing fleets. At first he’d though they’d been spotted, but the trajectory of the lightning didn’t add up. The shot hadn’t come from them…

“That’s the call to war, men!” a voice called, Roderick turning to see Von Kessel rounding the forecastle. He was rousing the gawking sailors, addressing the group closest to Roderick with a stern look. “To your posts, in the Emperor’s name.”

There was a chorus of yes sirs as the sailors launched into action, Roderick helping Skyseeker get out of their way. From beyond the ship’s flank, he could see the silhouette of the vessel chasing them, closer than ever.

An engagement with them troubled him more than he cared to admit. Roderick was used to battle taking place over land, not sea, and a small twinge of thalassophobia wasn’t helping either. To be devoured by sharks was not the glorious death he sought, but he was never one to stand aside from the call of duty.

He stood in front of the captain before he could pass, Von Kessel quirking a brow in a silent question.

“What would you have us do, captain?” Roderick asked, gesturing between him and Skyseeker. “We can help.”

“Is that so? Do you know how to hoist a sail, or row in time with a dozen other sailors? Keep yourself and your rat inside, you would only get in the way.”

“I’m familiar with firing ship cannons,” Roderick replied, ignoring the offhand comment. “An extra set of hands can do you no harm.”

“And paws, too!” Skyseeker added, waving her fingers. Von Kessel went to say something, but another warp strike interrupted him, the lightning falling short in the water some distance off the starboard.

“Facing Skaven with a rat on my side…” Von Kessel mused. “I’ve little choice but to agree. Very well, go find yourselves a cannon on the port side and assist. We’ll be turning to give the filthy rodents a broadside. Obey my men like they’re Sigmar’s chosen, understand?”

“We do,” Roderick replied, waving Skyseeker on. “Come on, lass.”

The pair rushed down to the main deck, which had quickly become packed with clusters of men. Some were handing off portable, one-man cannons and mounting them onto the bulkwark, others ferrying wheeled carts full of cannon balls to the gun crews, everyone rushing off to their assigned tasks at the behest of officers.

Roderick moved down the portside edge, examining each cannon. Teams of three were preparing the mighty weapons, but close to the far end of the line, one of them was being manned by only a single sailor. His companions were probably down in the hull, currently being roused from sleep, but Roderick took the opportunity to step in first.

The sailor was currently securing the cannon to the bulwark, so the recoil wouldn’t send the weapon flying back onto the deck and injuring anyone in its path. Roderick stooped to pick up the other end of the tackle, looping the rope beneath the barrel and tying it down to the railing on the opposite side.

“Hey, who the…. General Erdmann?” the sailor asked, blinking at him as he secured the knot he’d been tying. “what in the ploughin’ hells are you doing here?”

It was a crude way to address a superior, although Roderick technically wasn’t his superior in any capacity, so he brushed it off without comment.

“The captain has sent us to aid you,” Roderick replied.

“Us?” he echoed. He recoiled in alarm when he noticed Skyseeker standing by his side, the man having not noticed the Skaven until now.

“Ahoy-hoy!” she greeted, offering him a little wave.

“Uh, General? I don’t work with ploughin’ Skaven…”

“You do now, lad,” Roderick replied. “Stop wasting time and tell us what you need.”

“Pissing captain always sends me the greenhorns,” the sailor muttered. “Right, one of you needs to be on swabbing duty, the other will be carrying and loading the shots. Better decide quick, those fucking rats are won’t be waiting on us.”

“I’m not even sure you weigh twenty-four pounds, lass, so I’ll load,” Roderick said. “Think you can handle the swabs?”

“There’s nothing Skaven can’t handle,” she replied, puffing out her chest. “What do I do?”

The sailor pointed to a bundle of sticks nearby, Skyseeker bending over to pick them up. They were the same shape as cotton swabs, except they were as long as swords, the ends flaring out into bulbous shapes. There were three in all, and Skyseeker decided to just pick them all up and haul them over to the gun.

“Use the one with the sponge,” the sailor explained, pressing his thumb into a little vent on the rear of the iron barrel. Roderick knew enough about gunpowder to know he was blocking the spark vent so the cannon wouldn’t fire pre-emptively and blow the Skaven’s paws off. “Stick it down the barrel until it hits the bottom. Cleans out all the shit inside.”

She held the three swabs out, Roderick seeing the gears in her head turning as she figured out how she was going to manage carrying them around. Instead of just dropping the ones she didn’t need, she instead brought up her pink tail, holding two of the swabs out to it, like she was passing them off to someone. The scaly appendage wrapped around the hafts, flexible enough it could coil thrice times over the poles.

Now with her hands free, she brought the sponged swab to the barrel, poking it inside as instructed, pulling it back out when the sailor told her so.

“Okay, now do the same with the wad-screw. It’s that one with the spiral on the end. Hurry it up, now, we’re on a small fucking timer.”

She repeated the process with a different swab, using it like Roderick would use a ramrod to reload his pistol. The process between loading navel cannons and handguns was remarkably similar, except one was far more dangerous given the upscale in explosive power.

“Good, now stand clear,” the sailor instructed. “General? The cartridge.”

A short distance away lay a pile of white bags, Roderick recognising them as small sacks full of gunpowder. A barrel brimming with cannonballs sat to one side, another filled with canvas wads on the other. He rushed to pick one of the cartridges up, having to use two hands to do so, moving over to the end of the barrel and lifting it in.

“Now ram it home, rat,” the sailor ordered, pausing to rub his brow. “Gods, never thought I’d say those words in that order before…”

Skyseeker gave him an incredulous look, but didn’t bother asking what he meant. She was perceptive enough to know that she should use the third swab to do the job, this one ending in a simple cup-shaped recess. She rammed the cartridge to the back of the barrel, using her tail like a third arm to help to complete the task.

Next came the shot, Roderick lugging the twenty-four pounder across the deck, Skyseeker plugging it into the cannon. Last came the wad, which served to keep the shot and the cartridge in place while the cannon was readied.

“Help me run it out,” the sailor said, picking up a spool of rope connected to the cannon’s base. Roderick joined him, heaving the rope taut, Skyseeker hurrying to add her miniscule weight to the effort. The cannon rolled forward on its iron wheels, the tackle going slack as it was pushed flush against the bulwark.

Now in position, the sailor produced an iron nail, slotting it into the powder vent, piercing the cartridge inside. He then took out a long matchstick, jamming it inside the vent where he let it sit. All they would need now is a spark to light the fuse, and the cannon would fire.

Roderick could see they were running late compared to the rest of the crews lining the deck, each respective leader holding up lanterns, ready for the order to fire. Glancing out over the water, Roderick could see the Skaven ship was still maintaining its course some three or four hundred meters out, its bulk illuminated by two pools of green light, which emanated from a pair forward-facing cannons, mounted on the very front of the ship.

As he watched, one of the warp-cannons fired, this one landing short some dozen meters off, the splash of water momentarily obscuring the rat ship behind the spray. Like a company of artillery, the rats were zeroing in on them, becoming more accurate with each testing shot.

The wolfship continued its heavy turn, its weight felt with every slow change in angle, soon bringing its full broadside to bear.

“Stand aside, rat,” the sailor advised, using another rope to turn the barrel. Roderick made to help, but the sailor waved him away.

“You’ll fuck up our shot, General,” the sailor said. “Aiming is my job.”

Roderick deferred to his experience, letting the foul-mouthed sailor angle the barrel. Down the gun line, Roderick heard the call to aim being shouted from the mouth of someone with a foghorn for a voice. He could hear similar shouts from the deck below, probably from whoever was in charge of the hold’s weaponry.

“I said move ploughin’ back, rat,” the sailor chided. He stooped to collect a lantern of his own, one end of the stick trailing smoke. “you don’t want to be anywhere near that barrel when I light this son of a bitch.”

She hopped a safe distance away from the cannon, joining Roderick as he lingered by the ammunition barrels. The Skaven ship was maintaining its course, closing the distance fast. It was close enough now that he could make out the hundreds of Skaven scurrying about its decks.

“You may want to plug your ears, lass,” Roderick advised. “I can’t express to you how loud these guns are going to be.”

She took his word for it, covering her pink ears with her paws, shutting her eyes tight as the man with the foghorn voice gave the order to fire.

The sailor brought down his lantern, the neighbouring gun team doing the same, the matchstick making sizzling and popping sounds as the fuse ignited. The sailor took a few steps back, but stayed a little too close to the gun than Roderick would have been comfortable with. He wasn’t even covering his ears, suggesting he’d done this many times before, or was hard of hearing.

Roderick guessed at least thirty, maybe forty guns were on each side of the wolfship. The rats were about to be in a world of hurt, if not downright destroyed in a few moments. The Skaven hulk still wasn’t changing heading, surely they would try to evade?

He felt a tremor in the wood beneath his boots, the lower deck cannons the first to fire off. A second later, and their gun, along with the rest along the deck, discharged, the matchsticks burning to capacity. The monstrous gun fired off in almost perfect synchronicity with the others, the deck becoming a firework show of explosives. The barrel snapped at least two feet into the air, the cannon rocking back on its wheels as it delivered its bombardment. The immense recoil would have crushed anything directly behind the gun, but the tackle kept he gun secured to the bulwark, the tracks only moving as much as the slack let it.

As the gunpowder flash petered out, Roderick looked down the barrel’s length, seeing the sky had darkened with cannonballs, the stars obscured behind the curtain of ammunition. They arced into their highest point, then descended towards the Skaven ship. For a moment all he heard was the lapping waters and the ringing in his ears, and then the volley found its mark.

Even across the distance, crushed wood and pained cries reached his ears, more than a quarter of the broadside having found its mark in the Skaven clanship, its narrow profile meaning many of the shots had missed. Even so, the damage was immediate. One of the frontal warp-cannons shattered to pieces, the nearby Skaven being flung to the waters by the shattering impact. Chunks were torn from the bow, the hull pockmarked with scores of holes and even a few pockets of green flame. Whatever ammunition the lightning cannons used must have cooked off.

“There’s no time for gawking!” the sailor shouted. “Swab the ploughin’ barrel, rat! We’re firing again!”

“Shut up, sea-man,” Skyseeker snarled. “you’re slowest out of all of us.”

She did as ordered despite her attitude, plucking a swab from her tail and ramming it down the gun, but not without directing a mumbled insult to the sailor’s parentrat as she did.

The reload was exactly the same as before, although this time her cotton swab came out black with soot, and the sailor told her to wash it in a nearby basin before she used it again. As Roderick approached with the next cartridge, he saw that the Skaven ship was adjusting course.

Rather than continue its interception, the nose turned swiftly to the side, an unnatural burst of speed shooting it off to the right. It was speeding along as though the winds had curried to its favour, but as Roderick got a look at the vessel’s rear, he found the source of its newfound speed.

Attached to the flanks of the ship were two giant nozzles, shaped into cones placed one atop the other. From inside these cones blasted flames the colour of emeralds, the streams of jet bringing to mind images of dragon’s breathing flame, the water below the twin infernos bubbling violently with the immense heat. The constructs seemed to be made of iron, resembling steam engines one might find on dwarven vehicle, but Roderick had never seen steampower on such a scale before.

“What on Ulric’s frosty fucking breath is that?!” the sailor demanded, the man’s jaw going slack.

“Warpsteam engines,” Skyseeker answered, her goggles reflecting the twin-tailed blasts of green flame. “Ultimate warp-power, constructed by Skryre’s ingenious Warlock Engineers. Hope you man-things have more oars to spare!”

“That explains how they caught up to us so quickly,” Roderick muttered. The engines screamed like harpies as the Skaven ship blasted off into a higher gear, bringing its own broadside to bear.

Without warning, ports in the clanship’s rotting hull opened up, several dozen lightning cannons poking through. Lightning flashed, lances of energy bridging the gap between the two ships. Some fell short, others sailed wildly into the sky, but most were heading straight for the wolfship’s hull.

“Brace yourselves!” the sailor yelled, Roderick covering his head in his hands. A strike landed dangerously close to their right, the cannon crew unfortunate enough to be in its path flung away by the resulting blast. The air filled with electricity as more lances found their marks, one tearing down the crow’s nest, the lookout up there vapourised, another striking the hull below.

The calm demeanour of the crew teetered, but did not falter, the gun crews maintaing their duties as they reloaded. Skyseeker was shaken by the close call, but she kept up her duties, passing her swab from tail to hand as she rammed the cotton wad inside the barrel, she and Roderick helping the sailor to push the gun forward once more. Both ships were travelling parallel to each other now, the sailor having to angle the gun far to the right to compensate for the Skaven’s sudden speed.

The cannons on the lower deck fired, still organised enough to fire a synchronised volley, Roderick’s own cannon joining the fray as the sailor lit their matchstick.

Roderick felt his eardums quake as the cannon fired, discharging a cloud of smoke and flame. The round shots whistled through the skies, the Skaven ship buckling as they hit home, pockmarking its hull in several places. Even with its superior speed, the clanship couldn’t outrun every shot.

“Again! Ploughin’ again!” the sailor yelled, Skyseeker thrusting the swab into the cannon. The Skaven were gaining a lead, the wolfship turning to compensate, giving the gun crews a better firing arc, more volleys from below deck flying off. Roderick knew that aiming artillery involved a lot of calculations, but that didn’t compare to firing at a moving ship, from a moving ship, even just a slight mistake would result in a miss. It made him glad he wasn’t the one in charge of aiming.

The Skaven clanship used its superior engines to dodge, manoeuvring in random directions to throw off the crew’s aim. Whether their helmsman was skilled or just panicking, it made the clanship a difficult target to hit, most of the next thunderous volley missing as the Skaven made a powerful one-eighty turn, their lack of reliance on the wind allowing them to change direction at a whim.

Now the Skaven was sailing to the left, part of its hull covered behind a rising wave for a moment. When the water fell away, the Skaven unleashed another warp-lightning broadside, the lances of electricity coming close enough to paint the features of the sailors green.

The helmsman of the wolfship turned away from the volley, putting the rear of the vessel in the way of the lightning, in the hopes of narrowing their profile as much as possible. Roderick watched as several lances streaked passed, those that found their mark striking the stern with violent force, one destroying the deck directly behind the cabin he shared with Skyseeker. He felt the ship rock on its axel as more warp-power hit the rear end of the hull, what felt like the vibrations of an explosion travelling up his legs.

“What was that?” he demanded, directing his question to the sailor.

“One of the pumps must have been ploughin’ hit,” the sailor replied.

“Don’t we need those?” Skyseeker asked. She was cleaning out the barrel without even being told to do so.

“We can stay afloat with one down,” the sailor explained. “but if another goes, you best hope you can swim.”

“We’re turning the other way,” Roderick muttered, leaning on the nearby mast as the wolfship shifted, presenting its starboard side to the Skaven. The beat of the drums that signalled the orders to the rowers changed, shifting into a tempo that was faster, more aggressive.

“Ah, the captain’s ploughin’ changing tactics,” the sailor mused, Roderick narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“To what-what?” Skyseeker asked before Roderick could.

“Off the bulwark!” someone shouted, Roderick turning to see Von Kessel striding down the deck, a handgun clutched in each arm. “Everyone grab a rifle and brace yourselves, we’re cutting a swath through these vile vermin!”

The gun crews leapt into action, gathering towards the middle of the deck, where men were handing out rifles and ammo. Their sailor went over to join them, coming back with two long carbines, offering one to Roderick.

“No need,” he said, producing his two pistols, the one Skyseeker had stolen for him glinting in the moonlight. He did take some spare ammo, as there was plenty to go around. The sailor then turned to Skyseeker, and after he hesitated, he held the rifle out to her.

“You’ve shot a twenty-four pounder at your fellow rats,” he began. “figure you can handle one of these.”

“Keep noisy gun to self,” she said, waving him off. “Man-thing weapons not for rats.”

“Then what will you fight with?” the sailor asked. “In case you haven’t realised, we’re going to ram these rats right off their ship.”

“You can have this, lass,” Roderick said, unsheathing his Skaven blade. He tossed it to her, and she caught it mid-air, testing its weight with a flourish, flashing him a toothy smile.

The three of them took up positions deeper onto the deck, Roderick watching as the men drew swords from their scabbards, they must be readying for a possible boarding action. The ram was the pride of any wolfship, and he wondered how many ships these men had boarded during their careers.

The wolfship turned with the wind, the sails angling to compensate, pointing its most powerful weapon at the Skaven ship. From the vermin’s point of view, the skull of the ram must seem like a daemon out of the hells of Chaos, Roderick as eager as he was nervous to see it in action.

They bore down on the clanship, the forecastle’s cannons firing in succession as the distance between the ships closed, the bombardment of the cannons drowning out the pounding drums.

The clanship attempted to divert away, catching onto their plan. As the Skaven vessel turned, the movement exposed the powerful engines mounted on its rear, those manning the forecastle’s weapons taking advantage. The forecastle erupted in fire and thunder, Roderick swearing he could feel the ship recoil backwards as the many cannons fired, the Skaven ship caught right in the middle of their deadly firing arc.

He leaned over the bulwark to see the lower nozzle of the warpsteam engine had been hit in the volley, a cascade of steel of wood falling to the ocean, green flames coughing from the mechanical wound. The effect it had on the Skaven’s speed was immediate, the vessel slowing down considerably in its attempt to flee.

The wolfship’s sails flexed as they caught the wind, their speed reaching levels even racing horses couldn’t rival. As they bore down on the Skaven ship, spearing through the waves with ease, the Skaven turned to port, exposing the breadth of their hull, the muzzles of its many lightning cannons priming with electrical charge. It seemed they were going to loose one last desperate volley, and at this short a distance, it wasn’t going to miss.

“Get down!” he exclaimed, grabbing a surprised Skyseeker and hitting the deck, shielding her smaller body with his own. The sailors around him didn’t need to be told twice, the men who’d been watching alongside him throwing themselves from the bulwark, seeking refuge in the middle of the deck, as it was the safest place to brace at this angle.

The air filled with the sound of crackling currents, the beams of warp energy lancing around the ship, turning the sky into a perverted version of a thunderstorm. There was a monumental crash as the top of the forecastle was hit, the upper layer of portholes obliterated in green fire. A ruined navel cannon was sent flying through the air, arcing down towards the main deck, catching a sailor in its descent. The man was reduced to paste without so much as a cry, the cannons smashing through the deck where it buried down into the hull, causing unseen amounts of damage.

Another strike hit the starboard side, more ripping through the sails above Roderick’s head, once coming so close Roderick could have reached out and touched it. The warpstrike landed just short of where he knew the kitchen to be, just beyond the ship’s wheel. The lightning detonated like a hand grenade, and flying out from the blast were the unfortunate few who happened to be caught in its deadly radius. Even the helmsman was thrown clear, tossed off the bulwark and into the sea. The wheel was intact, fortunately, the device scrolling violently now that it was unmanned.

The ship lurched as the rudder was turned, even some of the sailors and their hardy sea-legs tripping over with the violent change in direction. Another tremor through the hull foretold another warp strike had hit the hull, Roderick dreading to think what the situation was like below deck.

As Roderick got off from Skyseeker, he returned to the bulwark, only to find that their ramming course was going way off course, they would sail straight passed the Skaven in a few moments. He tried to warn the sailors, but the deck was quickly being thrown into chaos, and the captain nor the officers were anywhere to be seen.

All of a sudden, the wolfship changed direction again, Roderick seizing the nearby mast as their course was corrected, the Skaven ship angled before the ram once more. He had seen the helmsman be thrown clear, someone must have quickly darted up there take his place, but who?

“Chocks away, man-things!” Skyseeker chittered, her high-pitched voice audible over all the shouting and cannon fire. Roderick turned to see her grasping the wheel in her two paws. She wasn’t tall enough to see over it, so she had simply climbed atop it, using her feet to help spin it faster. It looked like some sort of perverted reversion of a hamster wheel. He knew she was fast, but she’d darted up there almost instantly, it was uncanny.

“Ramming speed!” she exclaimed. “For Clan Mors! For the man-thing Empire!”

The ships collided, the weight of the crash comparable to two giants butting heads. Roderick had thought the ram had been cast from rock, and he was proven correct, the sheep’s skull splitting apart metal and wood alike, not even so much as buckling under the impact.

Skyseeker had directed the ram towards the centre of the Skaven ship, Roderick just able to see the clanship parting down its middle, the bow melting through the hull like a knife through butter, the cries of countless panicking rodents reaching his ears.

The ram depleted their speed in an instant, Roderick holding onto a nearby mast for support as the wolfship buckled with strain. A feminine cry rose up above the sounds of groaning wood, Roderick glancing over his shoulder to see Skyseeker arcing through the air, the violent impact having knocked her clear off her perch. The drop to the main deck was a good five or so meters, Roderick panicking as she hit the wood face-first with a loud thunk, her legs bending unnaturally over her backside as she lay there in an awkward pose.

“Skyseeker!” he cried, rushing over to her side. He released the breath he’d been holding when she stirred, blinking her red eyes up at him. “By Sigmar, are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Richard, thank you for asking,” she replied in an eerily level voice, one free of snivels or chitters. He helped her to her feet, the rat woman shaking her head as she brushed herself off.

“You did very well,” he added, looking to port. The Skaven ship had been cleaved in twain, and while the ram hadn’t gone all the way through, the damage had been done, the clanship starting to sink towards the waterline. Some sailors were throwing up victorious cheers upon seeing the Skaven wreck, a wave of calm settling over the ship.

The serenity was pierced by a pointed snarl, a ratman leaping up onto the portside railing, brandishing two curved swords. Another shriek raised to answer it, this one from the starboard side, a Skaven warrior scampering up onto the deck. He was joined by another, then two more, and very soon the deck was being swamped with rodents. The Skaven must be climbing up the hull from their ship, as eager to fight as they were to flee their ruined vessel.

The vermintides descended upon the sailors from both sides, those unlucky enough to be closest being hacked apart without mercy, one sailor being rammed through by a spear with a cruel gut hook on the end. The man was thrown onto his back, his cry of alarm wetted by a gurgle of blood seeping from his lips, the sailor grasping the haft with his callused hands.

The clanrat twisted his spear with a cackle, the sailor going limp. The men nearby brought their flintlock rifles to bear, blasting the rodent to pieces, his mangy body crumpling to the deck.

The ship became a thrashing, close-quarters bloodbath, the charging rats being met with sailors armed with rifles and handguns. Like infantry forming firing lines, they lined up in rows, standing shoulder to shoulder as they shot the incoming Skaven down.

Roderick moved his hands to his belt, drawing his two pistols and aiming them in one fluid movement. One of the rats was coming right for them, and Roderick pulled one of the triggers, his head vanishing in a cloud of red mist.

Swerving round, he fired his second shot, the backwash of smoke plastering his face. He took out the leg of a rat who’d just climbed the bulwark, sending the Skaven flipping away to the waters below.

“Get off man-thing ship, Skurvy paws!” Skyseeker shouted, charging into the fray. “I’m only rat allowed!”

Roderick reloaded, watching as Skyseeker cut down a clanrat that hadn’t noticed her approach, holding the sword in both her paws. Just like back on the Trantine Hills, the Skaven seemed more confused than alarmed by her presence, the rats watching her cut down three of their number before finally concluding she wasn’t on their side.

While he’d only seen Skyseeker use daggers in combat, she was handy with a blade, blocking a swipe from an overhead spear, moving in to give the sailors support. Roderick was reloaded, firing a lead ball at a clanrat moving in on her left flank, tearing a chunk through the rat’s furry abdomen, cutting down another rodent with his offhand pistol. It was a challenge to reload with both hands full, but he could concentrate on loading the paper charges with Skyseeker and the sailors taking most of the Skaven’s attention.

The bulk of the Skaven were concentrating on overrunning the main deck, leaving those on the bow and stern mostly alone, allowing them to fire down and the swaths of rats from vantage points. Some of the men had resorted to using the swivel guns at point blank range, firing at their own ship in an attempt to stem the tides, the cannonballs cutting visible lines through the Skaven ranks.

Yet for every rat killed, another was there to take its place, those that couldn’t reload their flintlocks in time falling back on their swords, the deck devolving into a chaotic brawl. The sailors formed pockets of resistance, the men in front covering the riflebearers as they reloaded, the crack of gunfire rising up above the sounds of clashing blades.

Despite the initial surprise advantage, the morale of the Skaven began to slip, some turning tail and dropping their weapons, hoisting themselves back over the bulwark, despite the protests of their comrades. The rats didn’t seem to be equipped for a prolonged skirmish, perhaps their heavy weaponry had been destroyed during the ram, or couldn’t be lifted up onto the wolfship easily.

“That’s right-right!” Skyseeker jeered, shaking her fist as she chased a ratman off the ship. “you better squirt fear-musk, stupid buccaneers!”

From over the bulwark reached a giant hand, fingers the size of Roderick’s arm gripping the railing. The palm tapered into an arm as thick around as a barrel, packed with steely muscles, the hide sheathed in a course layer of fur. More of the monstrous limb came into view as its owner hauled itself higher, and within a few moments, the terrible face of a ratman came into view.

The visage wasn’t too dissimilar from the other Skaven he’d seen, save for its exaggerated proportions. Its skull was as thick around as a lion’s, its face wrapped in what looked like bandages.

It turned its crimson eyes on Skyseeker, as she was the closest thing at present, splaying its powerful jaws wide. It unleashed a guttural roar, flecks of spittle flying from its throat, the sound reminding Roderick of angered trolls, the noise making his bones shake.

Skyseeker responded by loosing a pitiful squeak. “EEEEEK! RAT ORGRE!” she warned, as though it wasn’t obvious enough. “Change mind! I’m the one who squirts fear-musk!”

The rat ogre leaned its barrel chest against the bulwark, Roderick seeing that poking out of its backside were several green crystals, each lining the length of its spine like quills. He could also see metallic augments ingrained into the front of its broad shoulders, sheets of steel and what looked like flat screw tops drilled into its thick flesh. Had the Skaven welded armour pieces into this monster?

The ogre raised its other arm to clamber up onto the deck, but arm wasn’t quite the right term. From the shoulder to the elbow was a giant bicep with more muscle mass than his entire body, but from there on, the limb transformed into a steel amalgamation, a device not dissimilar from a corkscrew taking place of the forearm. The device ended in another of those green crystals, the mineral sharpened to a point, almost like a drill bit in a way.

The ogre used this metal arm as leverage, two thick legs lifting onto the deck, the ogre’s waist obscured by a red loincloth. Now on flat ground, the beast rose to its full height, towering at least thirteen feet into the air. Roderick noted that its flesh was stitched in places, almost as though parts of it had been grafted on by a surgeon, but surely the Skaven didn’t possess such abilities, did they?

“Move, Skyseeker!” Roderick warned, but the rat woman seemed paralysed with fear, she just stood there as the rat ogre turned its gaze on her. There was little intelligence in its eyes, the monster frothing at the mouth as it advanced on her.

It lifted its meaty arm, the one that wasn’t a metallic augment, curling its fingers into a fist, making to smash her into dust. She made to back away, but her foot caught on a jutting piece of wood, and she tripped onto her butt, Roderick looking on in horror as he fired his pistols in an attempt to distract the ogre.

His bullets ripped into the ogre’s massive pectorals, drawing blood, but the beast hardly flinched, bringing its fist down on Skyseeker. She cowered behind a raised hand of her own, the rat woman looking like a child in comparison to the ogre.

As the ogre brought down its arm, Skyseeker’s feeble limb blocked the blow, the monster recoiling as though it had struck steel, Roderick’s panic morphing to confusion as he looked down at her.

Skyseeker’s arms had changed.

Gone was her flesh and dark fur, replaced instead by solid, grey stone, the mineral conforming to the shape of her limb. It was cracked where the ogre had struck her, saving her from a grizzly end.

“EEEEEEEK!” she shrieked again, turning wildly back to give Roderick a look. “Help me Rick-rod! Being molested by rock-things!”

“Do not fear, miss Seeker!”

Roderick turned to see Wilfred on the far side of the deck, the wizard surrounded by sailors forming firing lines. He was raising his staff high, a bright light emanating from its tip.

“Druthandor protects you all,” Wilfred called. “Fight! In the name of the Emperor!”

Skyseeker wasn’t the only one under the spell’s influence. Several other sailors were being clad in rock, forming protective barriers across their flesh, mostly on the arms and chest, the Skaven dulling their weapons against this newfound protection.

The rat ogre, unable to comprehend what had happened, moved to strike Skyseeker down again, but this time she spurred into action, skittering out of its path as it brought its giant hand down, smashing a hole in the place she’d just been standing. Testing out her new, golem-like arms, she brought her paw down in a chopping motion, hitting the ogre across its thick wrist, the giant beast snarling with pain. Being struck with pure rock was bound to hurt anyone.

Roaring, the ogre swung out with its warpstone drill arm, backhanding Skyseeker across her chest. More of her body was clad in rock, but the impact still sent her reeling, the Skaven’s feet skidding along the deck as she was sent stumbling away.

“Shoot thing, Rick-rod!” she cried. “Shoot-Shoot-Shoot!”

Roderick wanted to get in there and help, but without a sword, all he had was his pistols. He took to one knee, firing one shot after the other, hitting one of the warpstones jutting from the ogre’s back, the gem shattering apart. He aimed another shot at its face, blowing a chunk out of the tip of its muzzle, but the beast had its sights solely on Skyseeker, and didn’t even spare him a glance.

“Bring it down!” Roderick commanded, grabbing the attention of a few nearby sailors, gesturing in the ogre’s direction. “Bring that abomination down, now!”

His fear for Skyseeker’s life seeped into his voice, but the sailors did as he bid, directing their attention to the largest threat, a trio of rifles firing off in succession. If bullets couldn’t bring it down, perhaps bleeding it out was the next best approach.

The ogre stumbled under the volley, but it remained on its feet, thrusting its drill-arm out, aiming for Skyseeker’s chest. She swiped the blow aside with her reinforced arms, but her face contorted as she did so, the movement causing her great pain. He’d been a fool to let her be disarmed, a weeping blade would do well right about now.

“Shoot gun, Rick-rod!” she urged, screaming when the ogre lunged forward, its jaws splayed wide, the Skaven narrowly ducking beneath its salivating jaws.

He thrust the ramrods down the barrels of his guns, hesitating when she shouted out again.

“Idiot! Meant big gun!”

Roderick cursed himself for being so foolish, glancing over to the nearest naval cannon. If there was anything they had on hand that could take down such a beast, it was one of those.

He slotted his pistols away, rushing over to the cannon. He didn’t like turning his back on Skyseeker’s situation, but this was his best chance at helping her. Charging in without Wilfred’s spell would only get the both of them killed. He made to push the cannon around, cursing when he realised it was secured in place by the tackle, Roderick taking out his knife and slicing off the ropes.

He collected a swab laying nearby, almost dropping it as he plugged the barrel. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, aware that every second wasted could spell the end of Skyseeker’s life. The men firing from the upper decks were covering him, making sure no Skaven got too close to stop him from his work.

Once the barrel was cleaned, he loaded up the cartridge, then the shot, each trip to and from the cannon feeling like he was moving through quicksand, Skyseeker’s cries of panic piercing him to the core. He glanced back to see her taking another strike from the ogre’s drill, the crystal tearing cracks in her magical armour. He knew the spell’s effects enough to know she wouldn’t last another hit like that.

With the cannon loaded, he thrust all his might into shoving it away from the bulwark, but he barely moved it a few inches across the deck. He was too weak, and the weapon too heavy. Why had he cut the ropes? He could have used them to help move it!

Just as he thought all hope was lost, the cannon began to move, its wheels squeaking as they rolled, Roderick looking over to see a sailor was adding his weight to the effort, Roderick recognising him as the one that taught Skyseeker how to swab.

“Get your asses over here and help!” the man shouted. “Put your ploughin’ back into it, General!

His orders hadn’t been directed at anyone, but a few more sailors nearby joined them, taking up positions at various parts of the cannon. With five of them, moving the cannon got a little easier, Roderick shoving his shoulder into the barrel as they turned it about, placing the ogre square down its sights.

“Rick-rod!” Skyseeker cried. The ogre had pinned her against the bulwark, putting its massive body in the way, cornering her.

“We need a light!” one of the men said, plugging the vent with a matchstick. Roderick searched the deck frantically, locating a lantern nearby, rushing overt to collect it. Rather than light the tip of the match, Roderick held the flame as close to the barrel as he could, throwing all caution to the wind in his haste.

“Down!” he yelled, the sailors scrambling clear. He prayed to all the Gods the gun wouldn’t miss at this range. Or Sigmar forbid, hit Skyseeker by accident…

As the ogre raised its arms, making to cut Skyseeker down, the cannon erupted, rocking back on its wheels as the barrel flipped towards the sky, Roderick’s hearing petering out as the thunderous report deafened him.

There was a split second before the cannonball tore a basketball-sized hole through the orge’s chest, Roderick able to see the night sky through the exit wound, a cloud of red mist filling the air. The ogre paused mid-strike, looking down at its mortal wound, tilting its head as though confused by the sight. It stood for a few moments, then its legs began to buckle, and it dropped to its knees, clawing at Skyseeker in one last attempt to attack her. It keeled against the bulwark, uttering one final growl before going still.

“Flee-run!” one of the clanrats shrieked. Seeing their abomination fall had struck fear into the rodents, the Skaven retreating back to their sinking ship, most leaping off the railing without a look back. Those that stayed met a swift end to cutlass and cannon, Roderick watching as the last few pockets of rats were mopped up.

There was a blur of dark fur, and Roderick couldn’t react in time before a small shape collided into his front, Skyseeker wrapping her arms around his stomach. It seemed the spell had worn off, her stone armour dissolving off her furry arms. He raised his hands in surprise as she nuzzled him, murmuring something inaudible into his chestplate.

“What was that?” he asked, his ears still ringing.

“You saved me,” she said, using a paw to lift away her goggles, her red eyes sparkling as she peered up at him. “Took time, but you saved me!”

“I had help,” he replied, gesturing to the sailors. They watched the rat snuggle him with strange looks on their faces, but Roderick couldn’t care what they thought of him right now, his relief palpable as he closed his arms around Skyseeker’s smaller frame, hugging her back.

“Yes-Yes, thank you too, sailor-mans,” she said, leaning away from his chest, but still keeping her paws locked behind his back.

The ship was in a state. Dozens of dead rats lay about the deck, and many sailors as well, the wood pockmarked with scorch marks and holes, the forecastle providing a ruined backdrop. The men didn’t waste any time, dispersing to help the wounded and to throw the Skaven overboard.

“Are you two well?” Wilfred asked, approaching from further up the deck, his staff clicking against the woodwork. “Miss Seeker, I hope my spell did not frighten you too much.”

She pulled away from Roderick, moving over to give the wizard a playful punch on the leg. “Never scared! Was fun having rock arms, should cast spell again.”

“Perhaps if another ogre comes climbing up from the sea, I shall.”

“Don’t even joke about that, man-wizard.”

“Speaking of which,” Roderick interjected. “did you see that thing’s arm? The one made of metal?”

“The augment?” Wilfred asked. “Yes, quite the perversion of flesh and metal. That crystal on the end seems very interesting…”

The wizard made his way over to the felled rat ogre, leaning down to fiddle with the drill it had for a left arm, the old man as intrigued as ever. He figured out that the crystal was held in place by a mechanism, and after unwinding it, the crystal popped free, landing between his feet with a thud.

“This must be warpstone,” Roderick muttered, hunkering down beside Wilfred. “Skyseeker mentioned them once or twice, but I’m not quite sure what it exactly is.”

“It’s Chaos manifest, magic in its purest form. Do not touch it, Roderick,” he chided, slapping his outstretched hand with his staff. “to simply feel its warmth is a risk to us both. These crystals are toxic, and extremely volatile, even in a refined state like this one is.”

A distinct giggling sound turned the two men’s attention upward, Roderick looking to see Skyseeker was shoving a piece of warpstone down her throat. She was up on the ogre’s back, already working on pulling out the other crystals lodged into the monster’s shoulders.

She noticed she had an audience, turning to give them a questioning look. Her cheeks were bulged, like a squirrel storing away acorns in its mouth, the rat woman spitting flecks of green dust as she talked with her mouth full.

“Man-things,” she said, pointing down at the warpstone drill. “You eating that or not?”

-xXx-

“Dozens dead, and just as many wounded,” Von Kessel muttered. “were that we had a fleet of our own to escort us, our casualties would have been far lesser in scope.”

They were gathered in the wolfship’s infirmary, a constricting little room located just beneath the forecastle, the wall lined with makeshift cots in which bandaged sailors lay. Medics going about their duties tending to the injured, though they seemed woefully understaffed.

“Many more would have perished if not for the good General’s actions,” Wilfred replied. “or his companion’s, either.”

“Yes, I heard some of the men’s reports,” the captain mused, turning to Roderick. “It seems you’re as decisive on water as you are on the land, Erdmann. My men and I thank you. Same goes to you, Skaven. Distracting that ogre bought us valuable time to deal with it.”

“Huh? Wassit you say, Kessel-man?” Skyseeker mumbled, giggling as she bit off a giant piece of warpstone like she was taking a bite from an apple. Her many pockets were overflowing with shards of the green crystal she’d looted from the orge, and she hadn’t stopped snacking on them since the end of the fight.

Roderick gave her a pointed shove with his arm. “He’s thanking you, lass,” he whispered.

“Oh! You are welcome!” she chimed, offering the captain a boisterous wave. “Will all these man-things be okay? Be shame to let so many slaves die. I mean sailors!”

“My first aid officers are highly trained,” Von Kessel answered. “However, if you could lend us some of your magics, Master Wizard…”

“But of course,” Wilfred replied, beginning to walk between the rows of beds, Von Kessel directing him towards the more critically injured, leaving Roderick and Skyseeker alone.

“Shall we go back to the cabin?” he asked her. “Don’t know about you, but I could do with some rest.”

“Yes-Yes, need nap time myself.”

With that, they made their way to the exit, walking out onto the deck after moving through a few small rooms. Some time had passed since their brawl with the clanship, and the deck was cleared of the dead, sailors washing away the blood and grime with mops. The sound of striking hammers was loud, Roderick glancing up to see more men up on the masts repairing the damage and replacing the tattered sails, the ship already starting to return to its former condition. These men must be used to field repairs if they could work so quickly.

“Question,” Skyseeker muttered between mouthfuls of warpstone. The green crystal was like a drug to the Skaven, she just couldn’t stop stuffing her face with it.

“Go on.”

“Rick-rod said you had surprise for Skaven. Before clanship interruption.”

That’s right, the poem, he’d completely forgotten about it. He fished inside his belt, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt the slip of parchment brush his finger.

“Come over here,” he urged, leading her towards the bulwark, away from any prying eyes or ears. The sea was empty, the wolfship having sailed far away from the pirate and Skaven fleets battling it out on the horizons. With any luck, the pristine view should help set the mood.

“This is for you,” he began, Skyseeker watching curiously as he produced the folded parchment. She took it from him, her paw brushing his fingers, the Skaven turning it over like she was examining a strange treasure. She’d even pocketed the piece of warpstone she’d been snacking on, suggesting she was most intrigued.

“Open it,” he said when she didn’t seem to understand what to do. The parchment crinkled as she did as commanded, staring at the script written upon it, her eyes tracking the words. He felt nervous about her reaction, resisting the urge to wring his hands as she glanced up at him in confusion.

“I can’t read,” she informed him after a few moments.

“Y-You can’t…? Oh.”

“What’s it say?” she asked, passing the poem back to him. “Must be important message. Contract, perhaps? Better include interest rates!”

“You want me to read it for you?” he asked, shifting on the spot. He’d written the poem down so he wouldn’t have to say those things out loud, but it seemed she was illiterate to Reikspiel, and why should that surprise him?

“Rick-rod can read, can’t you? Hurry-Hurry! Time’s a wasting.”

“As you wish,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he smoothed out the parchment. “Ahem… Uh, Fur as dark as opal, eyes the shade of ruby… Some would call you as vile as Nurgle, but you’re just… gems, to me.”

Skyseeker chewed on one of her claws, humming to himself as she gestured for him to continue.

“If… you were to be my one, my heart would explode, like a… powder gun.”

Roderick scrunched up the poem. That was terrible! What had he been thinking, writing such drivel? He glanced down at the rat woman, his face blushing as he gauged her reaction. Perhaps leaping off the boat would be a better alternative to hearing what she had to say.

“Hmmm….” she said, scratching her scalp with a finger. She didn’t look pleased, nor embarrassed, her expression oddly thoughtful as she let the silence linger. “Shadow!”

“W-What?”

“Is riddle, yes-yes?” she asked, tapping her hands together. “Shadow’s are dark. Not have ruby eyes, confused by that bit. Can be vile, depends on person. ‘My one’ means my shadow… so must be shadow! Do I win treat?”

Roderick looked at her as though she’d just told him the ocean was made of cheese, sputtering as he tried to formulate a reply.

“Th-That’s not… That wasn’t a riddle!” he exclaimed, pinching his nose. “It’s a poem, Skyseeker. About you!”

“Me?” she echoed, staring up at him with a blank expression. “I don’t get it.”

“Look, you’re as dark as opal. Understand?” he asked, glancing down at the parchment. “And you’re eyes, they’re red, and rubies are red too. In human culture, those jewels are considered to be… beautiful.”

“So… man-thing thinks eyes are… pretty?” she asked, wringing her hands together.

“In layman’s terms,” he confirmed. “And ‘the one’ means something special as well. Some humans like to think there’s someone out there who’s perfect in every way, like a soulmate. I’ve never believed in phrase myself… until I met you, lass.”

He couldn’t believe he had to literally spell out his confessions to her, but at least he was being as direct as possible, there would be no misunderstandings now. He braced himself for her response, his heart beating like a drum.

“S-Soulmate?” she asked. Her lower jaw quivered, Skyseeker peeling off her goggles to let them hang around her neck. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words came out in a choking sound.

And then she burst into tears.

“Sk-Skyseeker?” Roderick asked, kneeling down to her eye level. “What’s the matter? Did I upset you?”

“No-No,” she mumbled, jamming her palms into her eyes. “Not sad, S-Skaven is s-so… so happy right now-now.”

His heart melted, Roderick wrapping his arms around her, Skyseeker sniffing as she leaned against his chest, her smaller frame trembling against him.

“N-No thing has… EVER,” she sniffed. “-said such nice riddle to Skaven b-before…”

“It’s not a…” He stopped himself, electing to just go with it.

When she got herself under control, she pulled back a little, Roderick drawn to the way her red eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her dark irises filling his vision.

“Rick-rod always making me feel happy,” she continued, her whiskers brushing his face. “So kind and considerate. Kindsiderate. First thought you just trying to learn secrets, tried to keep you out, but you found way inside all the same-same. Never let anything get so… close to Skaven before, but I’m glad my first friend is… uh, the first.”

The way she stammered her words was endearing, Roderick grinning as he dared to plant a hand on her shoulder.

“I wish to be… more than just friends, Skyseeker,” he started. “If that’s overstepping, or you’re not comfortable with that, then say so now so I can put my thoughts to rest.”

“M-More than friends?” she stammered. “What you mean?”

Taking that as a sign she wasn’t denying him, he reached out, cupping the back of her furry head in his hand, and leaning closer. He didn’t think Skaven kissed each other, but he saw no other way of expressing his desire than guiding her muzzle closer. She didn’t pull away, Sksyeeker’s eyes going wider than ever as he pressed his lips to hers, his heart skipping a beat as they touched. Her muzzle was nothing like a human face, yet her touch was warm and soft as silk, her whiskers tickling his cheeks, her pink nose cool and yielding.

He flashed back to his earlier pensiveness, when he’d first entertained the thought of liking her during their night at the inn. He had tried to deny his attraction to her back then, but he could no longer supress his feelings. She’d almost been felled by that ogre, and every passing day became more fraught with danger. The time they had together was finite, he had to take the opportunity now or regret it forever.

So he poured all the affection he could muster into the kiss, his pace hungry and aggressive, her tongue rising up to meet his own as he pushed passed her buck teeth. Her organ was slippery with her saliva, gliding along his tongue without friction as he explored her palate. She tasted of dried meat, and something else as well, a strange minty flavour catching him off-guard. It must be the aftertaste of warpstone on her tongue, a touch of worry creeping up on him as he remembered Wilfred describing the crystal as toxic. Surely a little exposure wouldn’t hurt…

Skyseeker was unusually passive during the kiss, her demeanour akin to a frightened deer as she stood rooted to the spot, her tongue touching his with a few tentative flicks. He pulled back, wiping a spot of dribble from his lips with his hand, chuckling when he saw her expression, a mix of confusion and excitement plastered over her muzzle.

“That’s, what I mean,” he said.

“W-What was that?” Skyseeker asked, giggling as she touched her muzzle. “Felt very weird.”

“A kiss,” he answered. “It’s something humans do to express affection. Did you like it?”

She answered him by leaning in, thrusting her mismatched lips to his, Roderick placing a hand on the nearby bulwark so he didn’t lose his balance. This time it was he who found himself on the defence, Skyseeker’s winding tongue coiling into his mouth, his cheeks bulging as she locked their organs together. She placed her hands on his shoulders, tilting her head to the side to deepen their connection, her desire palpable.

Her scent rose to the forefront of his attention, a rich, womanly smell that made his thoughts cloud over. He took greedy handfuls of her torso before his brain could process his actions, palming the hourglass curve of her waist, her fur like silken sheets. Skyseeker voiced a staggered gasp as he ran his hands over her, the sound snapping him out of his stupor, Roderick blinking as he pulled back. Gods, what had come over him? Her smell had been literally intoxicating…

She released him just before the lack of air became unbearbale, their lips smacking wetly as she sucked in her tongue like it was a strand of spaghetti, returning it to her mouth. She reached down and plucked one of his hands, bringing it to her cheek in a silent request to pet her.

“I-I’ve liked you ever since we met, Rick-rod,” Skyseeker muttered, leaning into his hand as he stroked her cheek. “Actually, that not true, I despised your man-thing musk. Wanted you to die-die after that… ‘incident’ with the horse – after I beat you in duel - but time’s change! Now want different things. Now want you.”

“I’ve likewise had a… change of heart,” Roderick replied, Skyseeker coming in to deliver a quick peck on his lips. “When that ogre almost killed you, it made me realise that our time together is fleeting, and if I didn’t take the opportunity soon, I may never get the chance again.”

She took out a chunk of warpstone from a pocket, inhaling the fumes trailing from the glowing rock. She sighed, placing the rock away as she addressed him. “All better reason to start breeding now-now.”

Roderick sputtered like a blabbering mental patient, Skyseeker watching in amusement as he tried to formulate coherent words.

“S-Steady on, lass!” he managed to say. “We only just kissed a second ago, and now you want to…?”

“You’re the one saying flattering riddles,” she shot back. “Way I see it, Rick-rod been wanting to breed for some time now. I’m ready if you are!”

“I… I’d thought you’d be a little more pensive about this,” Roderick admitted. “The way you talked about how Skaven treated your mother, or women in general, plus your experiences with those who found out about what you are. I expected you to be practically against bre… laying, with someone.”

“Is like Rick-rod says, you not like rat males,” she explained. “You make me feel… safe, always protecting Skaven wherever I go. Know you won’t hurt me-me. I… trust you.”

She pawed her face in a way that came off as embarrassed, Roderick knowing full well she didn’t say the word trust lightly. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, Skyseeker closing her eyes as she revelled in the sensation. Protecting her was an understatement, he’d duel with Khorne himself if it would put her more at ease.

He was about to kiss her once more when the clocking of boots drew his attention, Roderick meeting the eyes of a sailor walking by. He couldn’t care what these men thought of him in that moment, but a crowded deck that still smelt of blood was no place for confessions and intimacy.

“Let us retire to the cabin,” Roderick suggested, rising to his feet. “We can get some privacy there.”

“Good plan-scheme,” Skyseeker snickered, flashing him a mischievous grin as she took him by the hand. She seemed more excited than ever, dragging him across the length of the ship, Roderick stumbling along after her, the sailors parting before the rushing couple.

Roderick had never met someone who had come on so strong before, so open about a subject many considered taboo to even talk about. It was almost a little intimidating, having a woman take the lead, but Skyseeker’s forwardness was something he liked about her.