Warp Token 2 Word Update

2k words.

FYI I'm starting a new job so my totally consistant schedule may shift about a little.

***

One hand on her wound, she stalked into the jagged outcrops, her feet dragging in soft sand as she waded through a pool. Her leather belts creaked as she moved, and she wondered if anything had been ruined by all the water.

She walked a little further into the rocks, the sound of the ocean waves fading with distance. She turned into a nook, and was about to take stock of her inventory when she heard something.

She stopped, cupping her ear with a paw. The whistle of the sea breeze answered her eavesdrop. She was about to call it quits when she heard it again. A scratch, as though something sharp was being dragged against the rocks to her left.

She was about to investigate, when her instincts told her to wait, that she was no condition to start checking out strange noises. She was glad to have listen to her superior senses, because no sooner than a moment later, the scratching drew nearer, and she almost let out a squeak of surprise when a Skaven dropped down from the rock above her, landing so close she could have reached out and touched him.

His back was turned, his brown fur clashing against his rusted wargear. He rose his muzzle, sniffing at the air, then lurched forward, dragging an oversized halberd behind him, the weapon the source of the steel-on-stone sound.

Skyseeker dared not even breathe, and her mild alarm turned to raw fear as another Skaven dropped down off the rock, then a second, quickly followed by a third. The group moved into the rocks, chittering to one another, two of them holding up torches to drive back the darkness. Were these other survivors from the battle? They didn’t look as washed up as she did…

She waited until they were some distance off, then made her move. She scurried up the rock with a grunt of effort, using her knees to brace herself on the climb. She retreated in the direction the group had come from, her feet tapping quietly with each pace.

When she saw the second group, her fear-glans exploded. This time there were eight of them, clanrats bedecked in dark armour, wielding torches and polearms. They were gathering around one of their number, the biggest rat among them, his guttural voice carrying on the wind.

She stopped to take cover behind a protrusion maybe thirty feet away, cupping her ear once more. Her superior hearing picked up a few words.

“-and dangerous. Man-things coul… out… and take it alive! Don’t let anything get away alive-live!”

It seemed to be the end of the conversation, the ratmen spreading out as the leader waved his paw. They split off into two groups, one going east and the other west, the rats illuminated by the auras of their torchlight.

The leader went joined the group heading west, so Skyseeker trailed after the other, slinking across the rocks. There were plenty of clefts and pools to hide herself, but the further she strayed from the coast, the more fat the landscape became, and even her skillset couldn’t stealth herself in open ground.

As she tailed the Skaven, she must have misplaced a step, or disturbed a loose rock, because one of the clanrats stopped to turn around. Skyseeker flung herself to the side, tucking her lithe body inside a divot of stone. Her heart pounded in her chest. Had she been seen?

“What you gawking at?” she heard one of them call.

“Skaven thinks it saw thing,” answered the other.

“Where? What it look like?”

“It like… thing!”

“Shut up and keep moving, idiot. You want claw-leader to see rats dilly-dally?”

She watched the rocks around her bloom with light, the Skaven passing his torch right above her head. Tension filled the quiet. Then, she heard one of them sigh, and then the light retreated.

Skyseeker released a troubled breath. That had been too close, but she didn’t have the time to let fear keep her still. She pulled herself up, moving after the rat pack. This time, she kept well behind them, and gave her footing an extra bit of care.

Fear and confusion troubled her mind. Where was Roderick, and all the other man-things? She recalled the wolfship shooting against the clanship, but she’d been too busy drowning to keep track of anything else. Had the man-things been sunk, or had they sunk the clanship? She couldn’t decide which one terrified her more. If it was the former, everyone she cared for was probably dead. If it was the latter, she was stranded her, utterly alone.

Stop, she thought to this line of thoughts. And it did. She had to focus on the now, there would be plenty of time to worry once she gave these patrols the slip.

And patrols there were aplenty. To her rear was the leader and his group, and beyond them, more torchlight. With so much open sightlines, it was easy to pick them out in the distance. Six groups, maybe more, all stretched down the coast, wending through the rocks as they searched… but for what? With a muttered prayer to Sigmar the God-Emperor, she prayed that their target wasn’t her.

“So!” the Skaven who’d almost seen her began, his voice just decipherable across the distance. “What we looking for again?”

“The breeder, you bellend.”

Skyseeker’s eyes bulged, and she tried to still her beating heart. They could be talking about any breeder…

“The one that switched to man-thing side?”

Skyseeker cursed. Well then, there went the last the last of her hope for a quick escape…

“How claw-leader know it here, on land?” the clanrat continued.

“You saw the clanships, fool-fool. Skurvy Clan attack-killed their ugly boat.”

“But, what makes claw-leader think breeder will come here-here?”

“Nothing! Breeder could be drowned at bottom of ocean-sea for all Skaven knows. Ironsnout not want any chances, he wants every bit of coast-beach searched.”

She paused behind an outcrop, her heart sinking. These rats were sure of the wolfship’s demise. Roderick, Wilfred, the might still be alive, but for how long? From the way things stood, it seemed there was entire vermintide out here on the shore, just waiting for any survivors to turn up.

These rats, they were in cahoots with the Skurvy rats, the attack on the wolfship must have been a coordinated assault. This Ironsnout was certainly crafty, whoever he was. Probably one of perspicacious Lord Gnawdwell’s chosen, she had to guess. Not as crafty as herself, of course.

To her north, rockland gave way to tufts of grass, and then eventually rolling terrain covered in mossy forests. Skyseeker made her way into the hills, deviating from the rat pack, as they were starting to stray towards the coast.

It wasn’t long before another group got in her way, passing into her path from the left. Skyseeker ducked into a crevice rounding a tide pool and waited for them to pass. Her bullet-wound ached with the effort she was putting on herself, but she dared not cry out, not even so much as whimper. This time, volume did not equate to importance…

Once they passed, she pushed herself as hard as she could, making a break for the tree line looming above her. The rising hills and the thickets of trees promised closure and safety, and it was only safely nestled inside them would she pause to take a breather.

She was two thirds of the way up the slope when she checked over her shoulder, making sure she wasn’t being followed. She wasn’t, so Skyseeker let her pace slow an octane. All this running was not doing her wound any favours.

She made to turn around, but something caught her eye, and she looked back. The rocks and waves stretched far below and across her vision, but she could see a concentration of torchlight, dozens of hunched Skaven figures gathering in a furry cluster. Voices carried, but she could not understand them, but they seemed to be shouting.

Curious, Skyseeker reached up to her goggles, and turned the dial built into the lefthand lens. They had a built-in zooming function, allowing her to see distant objects as though she was standing right in front of them. The nightvision was blinding her from all the torches, so she pushed the button to turn them off.

As her eyes adjusted, she saw that one of the Skaven was causing a commotion. He was holding something in the air, waving it like it was a battle standard. She pushed the zoom to its max setting, magnifying in on his paw.

Clutched in his scabby fingers was a strip of black cloth. The Skaven was hooting and screaming in victory. At first she couldn’t understand why, but then she saw the cloth wasn’t all black, but red, too. Red with blood. Her blood.

That was her excess bandage, the one she’d tossed away. Curse her stupidity, why had she not tossed it into the sea? The one holding it started to point in her direction, not quite at her, but in the general vicinity.

The Skaven gave her bandage a little nibble, then tossed it to another. The taste of Skaven blood was hard to mistake. She could see the leader start to rally the other vermin, directing their attention away from the shore.

They might not know she was up here, but they knew she was in the area, and now they had her scent. Had she left a trail of blood in her wake, would it lead them right too her?

She had no time to check, Skyseeker bolting for the trees. Leaves enveloped her, and she welcomed the obscurity they brought. It was untamed wilderness in all directions, no roads of paths, just knee-length grass and towering trees.

She lost her sense of direction quickly, but with any luck, the same would be said for her pursuers. For nearly ten minutes she moved deeper into the woods, just to be sure she wouldn’t be found, and she could take a second to collect herself.

Babbling water reached her ears, and she followed the noise until she came upon a stream. It was tiny, barely as wide as her paw, but it was fed from a pool hugging a rocky overhand, just step enough to provide some shelter.

Skyseeker crawled toward it, putting her back to the rockface. At last, she had a moment to rest and regulate her breathing, her stamina all but depleted. At least all her running had helped her fur to dry out, and she was no longer shivering thanks to all the exertion.

Once she’d taken a rest, her gaze turned to her shoddy bandage. It felt like a knife was being constantly driven into her side, and it hurt to exhale. There was nothing else for it, she would have to remove the bullet.

Skyseeker produced a knife. Not her weeping blade, she would never bring its corrosive edge so close to her organs, but one of her spare knives. A good Skaven never went anywhere without at least ten backup weapons, and she was fortunate in that not all her possessions had been washed away during her swim.

She let the blade poise over her wound, Skyseeker unwrapping her bandage – this time putting it in her pocket so no one would find it. It hurt just to even look at the wound, her blood goring out of a gap wide enough she could poke a finger through.

She hesitated, then brought the knife down and in. She turned the point, groaning as white-hot pain blazed up her back, more of her blood oozing out. She felt around, and caught the lead ball with the blade’s point. She twisted, and the ball came forward with another red gush.

She pried the blade to the side, and she watched as inches of steel pulled out, glistening with her rat blood. She miscalculated the next step, and the bullet slipped from the knife’s grip, and she had to dig around to find it again. It became too much, and she filled the woods with a cry of agony. She startled a nearby bird, which took off from a nearby branch with a squawk. Her location would be revealed to anyone nearby, but even she had her limits.

This time she didn’t hesitate, and when she caught the bullet, she tore it out. It landed with a plink between her toes, Skyseeker sighing as she dropped her bloodied knife. She tore off another ribbon of her cloak, and this time took care in wrapping it up properly. This was not the first time she’d been shot, so she knew how to treat it with what she had on paw.

Already she could feel the bleeding lessening, and after she washed off her fur, she lay back, taking a moment to reflect on her situation. So much had happened in such little time. One minute, she’d been saving the ship from Skaven invasion, and then tragedy had struck. Roderick was gone, and all her friends on the wolf ship. They could all be dead, all because of her…

Scratch that. Skyseeker wasn’t to blame, that treacherous Von Kessel was. If he hadn’t done away with her, she could have saved the wolfship wither nautical skills. Regardless of her opinions of him, she had to admit that she had not seen his betrayal coming, and she’d assumed from day one that the Captain did not enjoy her company. His balls must be the size of the moon, if he didn’t think that Roderick would pay him back.

If he was alive, that is. Damn it, she had to stop being so negative. Roderick wouldn’t let a sunken ship kill him, just as sure as she wouldn’t let it either. She had to find him, Wilfred too, before the vermintides did.

That would mean finding her location first, but once again, she was in a foreign land without any landmarks to go by, and she didn’t think the locals would be any friendlier than Tilea’s was.

Maybe she didn’t need to map out this place. The Empire was their ultimate location, and she doubted that had changed. All she had to do was find which way was north, and get there. Then she could meet up with Roderick in the town of… where had they been sailing to again?

She tried to drum up the name, but couldn’t get it beyond the tip of her tongue. Damn it, if only she’d paid attention during all their meetings, when she, Roderick, and Wilfred had gathered to discuss their plans once they reached the Empire. If only she hadn’t painted eyes on her goggles and napped, and actually paid attention to the names of all these places they talked about.