In Warhammer Fantasy as my ERP Character

The secret talk between Teclis and Morr concluded very quickly. Now, we are out of the Cathayan district with Teclis gifting Valariel with all sorts of things.

“This tome have accompanied me since my time as an apprentice wizard. I have not used it much other than for taking notes these days, this should prove more useful for you if you decided to study magic.” He said as he gave her his Book of Hoeth. Then a talisman that I do not know of. “And this should help protect you should the need arise.”

“Must be nice. Have something for me too?” I teased

“I am confident you can make things yourself.”

“True.” An expected anwer. Still no harm in asking, just in case for whatever reason he gives me something.

“Still, I wish we had more time. But this will be a farewell for now.” He then said to my surprise.

“I was under the assumption that you would want to bring her back.” I voiced my thoughts.

“I have considered it. However, the situation in Ulthuan is not… preferable at the moment. Perhaps after all of this has passed.”

“Perhaps after then.” Is it an empty promise saying that knowing what will happen? I considered meddling and helping the high elves to my better judgement. Though I banished the idea. Splitting my manpower even more is not good. It would be much easier to help after Ulthuan sank. That is considering what happens will follow what is written in End Times. There is also a chance that what is written in End Times will not be 100% what happens here. I have made enough ripples in the Empire myself by indirectly helping the human Gods return.

As for Valariel. She is silent after thanking Teclis for the gifts. Perhaps because she has been a silent observer for too long that she didn’t speak much. I looked at Morr who simply shook his head. It would seem I have to take care of Valariel myself now that she is physically here. No more irresponsibly making her someone else’s responsibility anymore.

“Do not worry,  I will have them send you your interpreter and the other one here.” Morr said to Valariel who nodded enthusiastically.

“She have an interpreter?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s the other one?”

“You will see.” I rolled my eyes. Should have expected this.

“Very well then, I hope there will be some good news soon.” I said to the humans. Now that I think of it, didn’t Aliathra also present. Maybe I could send some of my shadow divers to assist her too. That should be good enough for now. Then I try to call them and find them. And I noticed that most of them are currently deep underground. What are they doing there? Then I sent my magical sense further downwards. Oh. Oh fuck.

—

Trink stands tall. Now not sitting on his throne, he stands tall. Taller than the rest of the skavens by almost two heads. His eyes open wide at the tunnels. Unblinking. Standing so still like a statue that it looks like he’s not breathing. The entire skaven expedition was similarly silent and still. No one dares to even breathe loudly. The familiar musk of death and decay wafted from the tunnels. Then the musk of fear explodes from one of the tunnels. Followed by the chittering screeches of the latest batch of skavens forced into the tunnels. Some clashes of steel followed. Very briefly and immediately stopped. The stormvermins he have sent were fighting before almost instantly killed. Then a rhythmic sound followed. It's getting closer! The stormvermins surrounding the tunnels all recoils in fear.

Besides the overlord, a skaven sharpshooter carrying a warpstone jezzail took aim. The jezzail is smaller than the one used by the usual two rat team. The only one Trink can afford as of now. The sharpshooter adjusts the sight and his own goggles. The sound keeps coming closer. Tap tap tap tap. The unmistakable sound of a skaven running desperately that can now be heard because of how silent the entire place is now. Then from the tunnel that is somehow darker than the rest, a stormvermin appears. Running for its life. Before suddenly it is violently pulled back. So quickly and suddenly, only leaving the claw mark on the dirt as it is dragged and its terrified screech cut short.

“WHY NO FIRE!?” Trink lashed at the sharpshooter beside him

“Th-there’s nothing.” The sharpshooter squeaked before screeching and shrinking in fear as Trink seized the jezzail and fired at the empty tunnels. The gun roared once. Louder than anything in the past twenty minutes. The sound is so sudden that the skavens recoil backwards again. Another two hundred skavens sent and dead. There’s silence. No indication that the bullet hit something or not. Not that any skaven would want to enter the tunnels and check. Trink has tried everything in his current disposal. He has flooded the tunnels with poison wind globadiers, the more conventional smoking the tunnels as he cannot buy warpfire throwers, and the usual waves of skavens to tire whatever is inside the tunnels. Nothing works.

Trink looks around, all skavens shrink down wherever his head points. No one was willing to meet his gaze. Until finally he found the sole packmaster. He moved swiftly, the skavens parted in fear. Usually he finds being surrounded by musks of fear pleasant but not now. He grabs the packmaster. The packmaster squeaked desperately and unintelligibly.

“Where’s the other packmaster?” Trink asks in a terrifyingly level tone

“Dead.... Dead-dead! You killed them all.” The packmaster answers. Putting his hands between his own head and the overlord’s face. As if it will save him. True, when the digging kept getting interrupted and slaves went dying, as a skaven, he of course thought of sabotage and betrayal, some other skaven clans had planted traitors among his midst. He must have killed most of his stormvermin captains and packmasters with every failure to kill whatever was inside the tunnels. Standard procedure. Now at least, he knows that there is no traitor and sabotage from other skaven clans.

“Listen to me.” Trink starts. “Sell all the human slaves. The breeders, the newborns, EVERYTHING! I want as much rat ogres as I can buy HERE! By the end of this week or you will be the next one sent to the tunnels.”

“Yes-yes! My-” the packmaster’s groveling cut short by a powerful kick and the rat scurried away as his life depends on it. 

Then Trink takes the lash for himself and whips the skavens around him.

“MOVE! Build fortification! If whatever inside the tunnel gets out you’re DEAD!” Trink cracks his whip again. He regrets not taking a far-squeaker with him (yes, skaven have phones. Though it's big, bulky, the size of a fridge and maybe bigger, and of course have a penchant for exploding when used). It would accelerate the buying and selling of stuff and equipment much faster. But he did not trust Clan Skryre. There is however, one thing he can still get from Clan Skryre. It's time to finally use his piece of blackmail, whatever inside the tunnels, he will need some more firepower.

—

“When do they arrive?” I asked the leader of the shadow divers. His serpentine lower body coiling on the ground.

“Two nights ago.”

“Hmmm.” I wanted to ask why they didn't report to me and then I remembered that I did not specifically tell them to do that. For all intent and purpose, they thought the skavens are just another creature trying to worm their way to my domain. Regardless, it is good that they don’t just mindlessly charge at the skavens. “Your decision to only kill the ones in the tunnel is a good one.” To which the beastmen nod, the ear flicking. Clearly happy from the praise. Now then, what to do about the skaven. Just killing them outright will only lead to bigger skaven forces arriving and definitely much more equipped.

“How many are there currently?”

“We are outnumbered at least 20 to 1.” The beastmen try to guess, showing the intelligence I added to my beastmen. There are two hundred shadow divers or so. So we are seeing four thousand skavens with skavenslaves being the bulk give or take. Defeating them would be easy. But the second force will be much more troublesome.

“Anything else happening?”

“They are building a fort. All their human slaves just recently moved.” Which means they are not turning back and the slaves are going somewhere. Do they went to pick something? Hmmm. An idea comes to mind.

“Keep only killing the skavens that went to the tunnels. If the slaves return with something, report to me immediately. Identify the leader but don’t kill them yet. For now, continue stalling the skaven’s progress on tunneling north. Have some of your beastmen carry briar javelins in case you need to kill from the distance.” I relay my order. The skavens are pretty suspicious of each other, so letting the current skaven horde in place will act as a buffer between us and more skavens. If the slaves are going to fetch something, they might start bringing some of their more advanced weapons. Then when they do bring their weapons, I can send my shadow divers to steal it, thus opening the options to advance our own weapons. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together. I am already hesitant on the options of selling the warpstones that I generate to the skavens in exchange for weapons or even inviting some to work for me. Both are not exactly good options as the warpstones I sold will be used for their plans and inviting a skaven here is like inviting a disaster waiting to happen. This way, I can basically skip the two choices but still have some of the benefits.

“Call Lak, she should be interested when the skavens start bringing something. As for you, separate two dozen of the shadow divers. A dozen will get priority on breeding to add your numbers. The other dozen are to be sent to Altdorf, they are to keep an eye for an elven princess and keep her safe in the shadows. As for how the elf looks, she should be looking somewhat similar to me and Marissith.” The beastmen nod and dive back into the shadows. Things should be escalating soon. Then I went back to Valariel. Reading the Book of Hoeth together as I try to teach her magic.

—

“It has become more difficult to justify my prolonged absence to be here.” Kostner states to the three gods in his safehouse. While his rank allows quite plenty of freedom, he is still required to report semi-regularly and going on his way to help the Gods in contact with their believers have stretched him thin. Mostly the Ulricans, Taal and Rhya have better connections to their believers while Ulric doesn’t do much on his own.

“Then be on your way. Don’t worry about us.” Ulric said confidently as he opens another barrel of alcohol his priest had offered to him.

“I don’t worry about you at all. I worry about the people dealing with your antics.” The last 

“Yes, worry-worry-worry. There’s no problem last time.” He said before drinking straight from the barrel.

“Last time, one of your so-called children almost mauled your priest.” Kostner reminds him. The sight of a seemingly normal human suddenly turning into a giant wolf and the priest bellowing like madman before fighting the wolf is still fresh. Ulric slams the barrel near Taal who picks it up and drinks too while Rhya just stares at the two’s behaviour. Long past trying to rein them in.

“Almost. What’s the problem, just some children being rowdy.” Ulric said, acting like a responsible father he is. Regardless, Kostner needs to be away for a while.

Then a soft knocking sounds at the safehouse door. Taal stopped drinking and Ulric had his hand on his axe. Kostner closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Already knowing another trouble just enters. He turns around and sees a man in sheepskin clothes. Smiling warmly as he pushed the door open.

“You know, when I sense that the others have returned, I did not expect we will be gathering very near the sewers.” He enters and looks around the safehouse. If he is offended by the idea he did not show it. Then he sees Ulric’s hand on his axe. “Oh don’t worry. I’m harmless.”

“If you are harmless then this axe will stay harmless.” Ulric said.

“Fun as always.” Manann smiles wider. “Sorry for being late. I got lost twice. The surface has changed very much.” Then he took a chair and sat beside the other gods.

“Come now, don’t worry. I’m not able to try drowning the surface anymore. We are over that long ago. Now tell me, there must be something exciting happening before I arrive.” To this Ulric snorts. He gestures to Kostner that he can leave with his hand. This one is not something he can handle.