Almost an entire damned week had Razgor been hiding here in this stinking muck. The Realmhuntaz had taken a smaller scouting force out from the main camp at the Gaping Portal and they had gone upstream, trudging through the deep mud that covered the riversides of the Att. Razgor had refused to break the will of some of the large animals so they could travel faster along the river. It was too exposed, too dangerous for his liking. As much as he hated the swamps, he had spent many years in them, as a lowly gutrippa and he hadn’t stayed alive by moving in plain sight. He still knew how to hide in the muck and the dark shadows thrown by the large trees over their heads. He still knew how to walk through the mud so as to waste less energy and what plants were safe to eat, and which were unsafe, good to add to your opponents meals. Still, every minute he spent in the stinking bog, he hated. There was a reason he had led his warclan out of a swamp, just like this one, when he first took command of what later became Da Realmhuntaz. He hated the smell, he hated the feeling of constantly being soaked in filth and mud. He hated the feeling of this stinking sludge on his body. Still, today, it was a necessity.
The scouting group had come across a camp down one of the siderivers. Large furnaces breathed vile green gas into the air, whilst skaven slaves scuttled to keep them fueled. From the side poured out refined warpstone, ready to fuel hulking abominations the Skaven called ships, with banners dictating their allegiance to Blackmaw’s armada. The skaven ships had been guarding the river against any orruk ships trying to pass. Their firepower had proven too substantial to fight head on, so Razgor had taken his boyz to find the place they refueled. If they could take the ships, their plan could be set in motion. Razgor had noticed the green smoke from miles away. Seeing Skaven had been the only good thing about this expedition, making the filthy bog bearable once more, for there was nothing more satisfying to him than beating in a skaven skull. It was made all the better when Razgor noticed a Skaven grey seer wearing a stone he recognised. It was a gem he had once gifted to someone close to his heart. Someone the Skaven had stolen away. This had been the first clue since they disappeared years ago and the thought of getting one step closer to finding their loved one back made Razgor’s heart jump with excitement. All these years, he killed any skaven he could get his hands on, but none squeaked about what happened in The Beastways so many years ago. Finally, there was some hope. The orruks had taken an entire week to lay traps, prepare bolts and spears and waited for the opportune moment to spring their trap.
Finally, the moment came. As the skaven changed guard, there was a small window for Razgor and a few of his best orruks to sneak into the camp. Covered in mud and sticking close to the safety of the shadows, they snuck past machine and skavenslave alike. Near the makeshift port of the Skaven camp sat the largest refinery the skaven had, a towering contraption of rusted steel that spat vile plumes of contamination into the air. The ground around it was so heavily contaminated, it had cracked, toxic waste seeping from the fissures. As the orruks closed in, they took down the few guards surrounding it. From their belts, the orruks pulled the hastily constructed bombs. The hobgrotz had spent the last few days making these large bombs out of their own scrapgrenades and sulfurous plants found in the swamp. Some had died during testing, but that was the price of a good bomb. The orruks scattered as the bombs started beeping. One of the stormvermin guards heard the beeping and went to investigate the noise, but before it realised what was happening, the explosion evaporated the ratman. The explosion shook the ground and the refinery started to topple and fall. As planned, it fell right onto the harbour, crushing 2 of the makeshift skaven ships on impact. The subsequent explosion sent burning liquid warpstone flying everywhere. The remaining ships of the skaven fleet were covered in flames and toxic goo and the smell of burnt fur filled the air. As expected of Skaven, their ranks broke quickly, their army never truly mobilising. Chaos reigned, ratmen were scattered and running. Most ran into the embrace of the orruks who had surrounded the camp, quickly dispatching of the rats trying to escape. Others tried to swim away, but whilst most were lucky enough to be killed by the boltboyz posted up in the trees, others were taken away by the ghurish megafauna, who sensed a feast coming their way. Before long little remained of the Skaven forces, but a small group of holdouts who had come together at the centre of the camp, rallying to the large belltower. Leading them was the grey seer Razgor had recognised earlier, the red gem around its neck reflecting the green fire that covered the battlefield. The grey seer sat atop the tower, shouting its vile chants. The skies reacted to its prayers, as dark clouds gathered, warp lightning struck down to the ground, killing some of the orruks which had closed in on the tower. Tears started to farm in the ground, but not like cracks when the earth shifted. No, this was something different, something more arcane. The ground zipped open as the grey seer finished its chants and the bell behind him toiled. The ear splitting noise came to a sudden halt when it suddenly exploded, fragments flying everywhere. From the tear in reality came hordes of skavenslaves accompanied by a towering figure with curled horns.
The tide had turned quickly on the orruks. They had not been prepared for this many rats or the verminlord that led them. At this rate, they would all be wiped out. Razgor swung his chain once more, the heavy weight at the end of it turned a skavens head to a red mist without even losing any momentum. The verminlord was too strong for him to handle. He couldn’t get close on his own. Razgor took two steps back as a stormvermin halbert barely missed his chest. He grabbed its pole and pulled its user towards him. The rat quickly let go and started running, but it didn’t live long after Razgor threw its weapon into its back. All around the orruk, his boyz were dying. Even though every gutrippa was worth 10 rats, they were overwhelmed and outnumbered. He saw some of his boyz retreat into the water, before being dragged under by the enormous beast that had been sitting off the shoreline, feasting on any who entered the water. Suddenly, Razgor got an idea. The verminlord swung around its glaive, killing 4 orruks and the 5 rats who they had been fighting in a single swoop. Razgor grabbed a spear from a dying orruk laying on the ground. He put the orruk out of its misery, before he lobbed the spear at the verminlord. The abomination screeched as the spear hit it right in the eye. A thick, disgusting liquid seeped from the wound as the verminlord turned its attention to Razgor and started charging at him. Razgor quickly turned around and ran in the opposite direction, towards the water. He felt the earth shake beneath the crushing weight of the running verminlord, which slowly closed the distance. Its ginormous glaive came crashing down, Razgor barely managing to jump aside. He scrambled to his feet as the monster pulled its glaive from the ground, ready to carve to orruk in two. Razgor kept running as fast as his rather short legs allowed.He reached the edge of the water and swung his chain. It wrapped around a branch hanging above him and Razgor swung across the water, landing on one of the burning skaven ships. The raging verminlord quickly followed him and quickly it was waist deep in the dark swamp water. It swung its glaive, crashing through one of the decks of the ship, which started to take water. The shock sent Razgor flying, landing face first onto the deck below. But as the verminlord raised the glaive high for its final attack, it found itself unable to move. From the dark water rose dark green tentacles, which wrapped themselves around the verminlord’s limbs and torso. A head like a crocodile sprung from the water, biting at the verminlord’s neck. The beast looked like an alligator, with the back half of a giant squid. Its teeth sunk deep into the Skaven monstrosity, but it did not surrender easily. The verminlord shook wildly, freeing one of its arms. It let go of the glaive and balled its fist before hardly striking down on the ghurish beast’s head. The animal seemed stunned and its bite loosened. The dark blood of the verminlord ran down from its neck like a disgusting river, into the already vile water of the swamp. The animal let go of the verminlord’s other hand arm, which the skaven monster quickly used to grab the animal by its tentacle. With its other hand, it grabbed the monster by the throat and lifted it out of the water. The animal was panicking now, it tentacles looking to grab the verminlord and free itself. But it all proved for nothing as the verminlord’s grasp intensified and the animal’s bones snapped with a sickening crack. The beast limped as it let out its last breath and the verminlord let go of it. The lifeless body splashed into the water before slowly sinking. The verminlord let out a victorious roar, but it had made a big mistake. It didn’t keep its attention on the most dangerous hunter in the area. Razgor had climbed up the mast of the sinking ship, looking down upon the roaring verminlord. The orruk drew his knife, and jumped down onto the verminlord. The blade plunged into its skull under the weight of the orruk falling. The daemon started to crumble and fall apart as life left its body.
The sun shone onto Razgor’s face once the smoke had finally cleared. After the verminlord’s demise, the skaven had routed, going back to the disgusting realm they came from. Searching through the rubble, Razgor finally found the grey seer, a large shard of the bell stuck through its torso. Razgor took the gem from around its neck, his hope of information shattered once more. He put the gem away, hoping to one day hand it back to the one he had given it too. For now, clearing the blockade would have to do, the plan to take the river could continue. If the orruks used what remained of the skaven ships, they could block the chaos pirates’ retreat, allowing the Waaagh to come crashing down on them, with no way out.
