Borgut had lost them. nnAfter the escape from the trading settlement, he had pursued his quarry across the Fusting Desert for as long as he could, but as he had crested that final rise in the sand, and looked out across the big blue ocean in front of him, he knew he had failed. They had taken Durkol. And he could not follow.
As Borgut sat on the cliff-side, watching the huge sun dip over the horizon, he thought on what to do next. His life had been so simple, and fun, not four days ago. And suddenly, here he sat, leagues from all he knew, his best friend taken, and a rag-tag group of young orruks milling about, waiting to see what he would do.
‘How could he have lost his best friend!?’ he thought to himself angrily. First, he was there at Borgut’s side, and next minute he was gone. And if they had taken Durkol…. Borgut shuddered. No. He wouldn’t think such thoughts. Somehow, somehow, Borgut knew that not all was lost, and that he could still be reunited with his friend.
It was just a matter of how…
Waves sprayed up in front of him. The sun made its finale. Stars peeked out from behind burnt clouds.
In the distance to his left lightening played out across the deep, the rumble of thunder reaching his ears half a minute later.
Flash….. ka-boom
Flashflash….. ka-boom-boom.
And suddenly, a green flash in his mind. The lightening.
Green lightening.
The rats had that.
‘The rats had ridden on those machines….’ he thought to himself. They could cross the big blue if they wanted to. That’s what he needed, he needed a means to cross, and they had it. If he could just get his hands on machines like the Skaven could make, he could go anywhere…nn‘Ae! Oi! Come ‘ere!’ he shouted at the nearest orruk, standing a little ways off. ‘I ‘eard one of yous managed to grab somefin on your way out of that crazytown?’
The orruk puffed out his chest. ‘Yeah. That was me actually… boss’ he said proudly, ‘But he squirms a lot, I fink I’ll just throttle him. Be done with it.’ As the young one spoke, he absently drew out a bag from inside of his chest armour. As it thrashed about, the young one pulled out a runt of a skaven, mouth tied shut with a chain that looped around his head, and tied his arms and legs behind him.
And Borgut smiled. ‘ We’re off to the Crab-claw. And you,’ he said, pointing at the little skaven looking at him now, ‘are mine now. You and I, we will get Durkol Eye-gouger if it’s da last thing we do.’