Clan Scurvius - Greeting-honours and Welcomes.

[Primarch]

<Translated from Elvish>
The Highborn looked down at the heap lying on the floor in front of him and the back up at the two hooded Waywatchers who had dragged it into the camp. "What is this?" He said indicating the lump in front of him.
"It's a human, though you'd have a hard time telling that from the state of him."
The second watcher nodded, "It looks like the poor wretch was on the verge of death before the Wraiths found him. Chances are he would have died from exposure before long."
The Highborn knelt down to take a closer look at the corpse. Underneath the blood was a wasted frame and obvious scars made by whips and lashes. "Why bring this to me? The Wraiths obviously dealt with it."
The first watcher held out a scroll case. "He was carrying this. It's written in the human tongue, but it's crude even by their limited standards."

Greetings honoured neighbour-friends.
We seek peace-trade with you and pledge-promise our long friendship.
We offer our swords against your foe-enemies and will bring them ruin-death...

The Imperial captains looked up at the body of the goblin nailed to the roof of the inn. "Would someone please take that down." Ordered the senior officer. A couple of scouts climbed up to the roof and began pulling out the metal spikes. "Ey, 'e's got summat in 'is 'ands," shouted one of the scouts throwing down a scroll case. One of the captains caught it and opened it. "Looks like some kind of message sir."

...We look forward to trade-bartering with you. Our diplomat-negotiators are always near-close and we are happy to get-receive any goods-services you may wish to offer-sell.
We wish you peace-happiness in these new lands.

Regards,
Honourable friend-compatriot Scurvius.

<Translated from Dwarfish>

The thane threw the letter into the hearth fire and spat. "Scurvius? Sounds like one of them damn rat names!"

[job]

Amusing, well written and interesting. I have to agree the name is for a rat in my mind.

[ashmie]

Cool. I recommend Box of Delights Episode 2 to get into the rat state of mind and its rather Christmasy to boot.

[Primarch]

Warlord Scurvius sat atop his small well worn throne as a pair of Stormvermin dragged forward what looked like a soiled and bloodied pile of furs and rags. Behind them came one of the Warlocks, Scurvius couldn't tell them apart with their goggles and breathing masks. Still, his tail was twitching in anticipation of the results.

"Talk-speak quick. Were the result-scores good?"
The warlock bowed low to the ground in submission, "Great Lord Scurvius, we test-trialed the amulet as you wish-desired. I am happy to tell-announce good-fine results."

Scurvius stepped down from his throne and approached the stormvermin, though he was careful to keep out of arms reach. Whilst they were technically his bodyguards and apparently unarmed, he couldn't be certain that they weren't in the pay of someone else or just feeling opportunistic.

He prodded the bloody pile of fur with the end of his sword, "The subject-victim is dead-deceased?"
The warlock nodded, "An unfortunate side effect-result from the tests. But the amulet did stop-prevent nearly 1 in 3 of all the weapons fired at the subject."

Prodding the pile of fur again, Scurvius climbed back up to his throne. Being able to ignore one third of his enemies would be nice, but it would still leave far too many to deal with really. "Put the amulet in the scavenge pile, maybe we can use-equip it later. Continue the test-search."

"As you order-command great lord." The warlock bowed low to the ground again before scurrying off into the shadows. The two stormvermin stood at attention, still holding the corpse between them. Scurvius rested his chin on his paws. Who had sent the assassin? The trade with the Lizardfolk was supposed to have been a simple transaction, but someone had interfered. According to his spies many of the slaves had escaped and the Lizards were now more suspicious than ever. Scurvius wouldn't really have cared if the assassin had succeeded in killing the Saurus officer leading the expedition, but the fact that the attempt had been badly handled was just vexing. Clan Eshin was sure to disavow all knowledge of the assassin, they took a dim view of incompetence amongst their ranks, so it wasn't worth the effort of sending a messenger. The contract must have been arranged by someone within Clan Scurvius, but who, and to what end? Scurvius scowled in frustration.

[job]

Uh, sacrifices, now live-experimentation. The Eastern areas of the map are becoming very hairy... err, well that too but I mean scary. particularly for rat slaves.

[The Underdweller]

Lucky slaves! (the escaped ones, not the test subjects) The rest of us in the East can hope that the Skaven will be kept busy with internal power struggles for a while at least...

[Primarch]

Pulling his cloak close about him Warlord Scurvious stared out over the small bay at what, at first glance, appeared to be a pile of smouldering flotsam. Nearby a hunchbacked Warlock drew himself up to his full height and puffed out his chest in pride. "Oh great-mighty Warlord Scurvious, I am humble-honoured to present to you this magnificent fleet-navy." Scurvious threw a quick nod his way and returned to peering at the assembled ships through the spray and rain. If he had come above ground into this awful top-world weather for nothing, the engineer was going to spend a long, pain filled time regretting it. "Are you sure these boat-ships will transport-carry the clan to their destination-goal?" The warlock bobbed his head, "Most definite-assuredly. Our clan shall spread-expand into new territory-areas most quickly-soon." It was difficult to make out any expression on the Warlock's masked face, but Scurvious was sure he was grinning. One of the Stormvermin standing nearby coughed, "That one is fall-sinking," he said, indicating one of the vessels with his halberd. The warlock looked startled. "Which one? Where?" Seeing the disapproving look on Scurvious' face he gulped, "It's...er.... a submersible ship-cruiser."

As the Stormvermin closed in on the hapless engineer with a hungry look in their eyes, Scurvious turned to his other guest for the day. Or at least he turned to the point where he had assumed his guest would have been standing had he been there. "What news of the other-different races?" He said to the empty air. A whispered voice at his left ear made him jump "Our spies have report-told much Lord." Scurvious turned to face the cloaked assassin, his claws on the hilt of his sword. "The elves scuttle-run through the tree-woods. They are look-searching for some lost artifact. The beasts who would oppose-fight them have been driven back and the beard-diggers have stop-halted." Scurvious took in the news thinking about how he could turn this to his advantage. "And the war in the east?" The assassin shifted uneasily as if nervous to be stood in the open for so long. "The hungry-eaters smash-crushed the lizards. The man-things seem incapable-unwilling to defend their border-lines and the blue skinned goblins have been seen-watched all through the Northern pass.

Scurvious turned to one of his scribes and beckoned him over. Turning back he was unsurprised that the assassin was gone. "I hate-despise clan Eshin," he muttered.

[Primarch]

With a resounding crash, the doors to the main hall of the Scurvious clan slammed open, shocking the occupants of the hall (and crushing a couple of unfortunate Skaven who were stood behind the doors). Flanked by half a dozen burly ogres, Warlord Scurvious strutted into the hall, head high.
Clawleader Skrack, sitting atop the throne of Scurvious, pointed a finger accusingly. "Lord Scurvious? But you're dead-eaten. I listened-heard the report."
Scurvious just grinned and continued stalking towards the throne. Some of the clanrats and stormvermin nearby had drawn their weapons and were eyeing the ogres nervously, but no-one would intervene in the coming fight.

Skrack frantically waved at his guards. "Sieze-capture him! I order-demand it!" A couple of the more favoured of Skracks guards made to step forward, but after glancing at the brutes beside Scurvious thought better of it and started to take an immense interest at the decor of the hall instead. Seeing he had no other choice, Skrack grabbed his halberd and launched himself at Scurvious. The sound of steel ringing on steel filled the hall as Skrack launched blow after blow at his former lord. Scurvious parried and dodged each blow with contemptuous ease, his sword licking out time and again to cover Skrack in dozens of small wounds. As Skrack tired from swinging his pole-arm and bled from his wounds, his attacks slowed and Scurvious forced him onto the defensive. Nimbly and quickly, Scurvious bypassed Skrack's guard, his sword cutting deeper now, before finally delivering the killing blow and tearing open Skrack's neck. Before the body could hit the floor Scurvious' teeth were fastened on Skracks throat. Tearing out a huge chunk of flesh and swallowing it, Scurvious threw the corpse at one of the ogres, who happily started on his impromptu snack.

Seating himself on his throne, Scurvious surveyed the clan rats before him. Skaven tradition demanded that the strongest warrior should become the head of the clan should the old leader die, so he wasn't too upset at finding himself replaced so quickly. He was however, concerned that Skrack should have been chosen.
Wiping his muzzle clean he stood up and indicated his bodyguards. "Clan-family, I am honour-pleased to introduce our new ally-friends. The great-mighty Ogre lord, Gutgorger has pledge-promised his support in furthering our clan's plans-ambitions. He has sent along these emissary-ambassadors to watch over his new coastal-seafront holdings as part of our alliance-partnership. Let the clan rejoice-enjoy the return of the rightful lord. I am back-returned to lead-command you to victory!"

[kojibear]

I am anxious - scared of this horrible - heinous alliance of vulgarity, wickedness and sin!

Enjoyed the scene Prim, the actions spoke louder than the words and it was great fun! Perfect prose!

[job]

Game of Thrones- Skaven-style!

Well, done, but I will miss the Skrack's speech-talk. Oh, wait, yes, successor speaks the same way. Nice, I guess it is like the "royal we" for skaven.