by dinoman666 » Thu May 08, 2008 10:50 pm
Warlord Skritt had retreated to his den in his CLan territory, having just escaped a vengeful party of Clanrats from Clan Mors. He had failed in his attempt to assassinate Gnawdwell yet again, but at least his identity was still a secret. Dropping his shield with a clang and scaring several rats away, his whiskers suddenly twitched as he sensed something. Turning around, he was shocked to see two red eyes, burning like coals, in the darkness. A Clan Eshin assassin stepped out of the shadows, darkness seemingly springing from his form. Skritt drew his sword (a gune would have been useless against an assassin) and jumped back, barely dodging the blows from the assassin that would have opened up his belly. The Skaven assassin was armed with two-pronged blades, strapped to his hands. He deflected a powerful series of blows from Skritt's blade, then snapped the blade by trapping it between his own and whipping his palm against it. He swiping forward, the assassin's lightening-fast strikes eft three red lines on Skritt's cheek. His vision began to swim and his heart pounded in fear as he felt poison work its way through his body. Leaping forward again, Skritt drew a long knife, but once again once disarmed. Smirking cruelly, the assassin grabbed the Warlord's arm and twisted, dislocating his shoulder, before punching his elbow and breaking his arm. Skritt's cries of pain were drowned out by the echoing crunch as his bones broke, and arm fell limply at his side. Eyes burning with fury, he grabbed the assassin by the throat with his free hand, before ripping a chunk of the Skaven's flesh out of his cheek with a bite and throwing the struggling creature against the cavern wall, breaking some of his ribs. The assassin slid to the ground, gasping for breath, while Skritt hefted a heavy, partially-gnawed bone and glared down at his fallen foe. "Fool-fools... think might Lord Skritt be taken so easily, they do?" Suddenly, his stiffened, eyes wide with disbelief as blood poured from his mouth in a gurgling froth. A second Eshin adept wrenched his blade from the Warlord's back, blood mixing with the deadly poison that dripped, hissing to the floor. Skritt fell on his back, his body twitching as it went into contorting death throes. The assassins drew back into the shadows, disappearing into the darkness once more. For a moment their eyes could still be seen glowing malevolently, before they too vanished from sight.
Gnawdwell had watched the whole fight from a secret camera, smirking. Yet again, he had won...
"Heroes have morals. Villains have work ethic."
-Megatron