Two Sides of the Warp Token Update

2k words

By the time sunset arrived, the sky turning a deep shade of azure, Roderick was certain he was being followed. Every time he would pause to rest, the snapping twigs would subside, only to then pick up again once he resumed walking. He was by no means defenceless, but being stalked through a darkening forest would shake anyone’s nerves, he would have to deal with his pursuer before he became too tired to keep his eyes open.

He wondered who it was, a mercenary from the band? A brigand? More Skaven? He would hear their cackles and chitters long before they arrived if it was the latter, so he was wagering on it being a bandit, but why try and rob someone way out here?

No matter, he wouldn’t let himself be humiliated like the last time he’d been waylaid by vultures. Roderick bided his time, pretending to be ignorant of his pursuer as he found someplace to set up camp before it got too dark. He foraged around for some kindling, the abundance of undergrowth making it a trivial matter of assembling a firepit. He placed a ring of stones in the middle of another clearing, taking out a piece of flint from his pack and striking it.

Soon he had a healthy fire going, placing his helmet on the ground nearby, holding his hands up to the flickering flames. The sunlight was fading quickly, the canopy roofing the forest so dense he could scarcely see the stars.

He rummaged through his pack, producing a hunk of bread and spearing it on a stick. He roasted it over the fire, hoping the heat would drive back the stale taste, the scent of baking bread reminding him of the homeland.

After eating his fill, he put on a show of yawning loudly, holding an exaggerated arm up to his mouth. Fluffing his pack like he would a pillow, he laid his head down on it, closing his eyes and pretending to go to sleep.

There he waited. Ten minutes, twenty, an hour. He was starting to think his ruse wasn’t going to work, when he heard a twig snap, the little noise so quiet he barely heard it over his pounding heart.

He clutched his handgun to his chest as he heard whoever it was approach, Roderick sure he heard his purser sniff as though affected by a fever. They were being careless, that meant his trap was working.

When he heard it drawing closer to the clearing, Roderick leapt to his feet, holding his pistol out in one arm as he pointed it in the intruder’s direction. Between two trees, he saw a lone Skaven with one leg raised in the air, frozen like a burglar who’d just been caught sneaking into the wine cellar.

Its already large eyes grew even wider as it realised it had been trapped, dashing away too quickly for Roderick to track it with his eyes, let alone his gun. It slunk behind the trunk on the left, its tail arcing around the wood as he heard it fall to the grass.

Roderick went to fire, then hesitated, turning his gaze to the woods. Was he about to be caught in the middle of a Vermintide? He couldn’t hear the telltale rumbling of earth, nor the cries of an oncoming wave of ratmen, was this creature truly alone?

He waited for the burrows to start appearing, but it seemed no major attack was coming. As he contemplated his next move, the Skaven peeked around the tree at one point, placing a furry hand on the bark as it looked at him, as if it had to check if he was still standing there. It ducked away as soon as he aimed at its face, Roderick furrowing his brow in confusion. This one looked familiar. Was it the same ratwoman who’d killed his horse?

“I see you, rodent,” Roderick announced, hoping he could scare it into backing away from its cover. Instead, the Skaven peered at him from the opposite side of the tree, and at a different elevation, Roderick too slow to train his sights on it before it disappeared again. “You know, for a self-proclaimed master assassin, you’re not very good at hiding.”

When it didn’t immediately turn tail, Roderick started to circle the tree, making sure he kept at a distance so it couldn’t knife him. When he rounded the tree, he blinked in confusion, the rat wasn’t hiding behind it anymore.

He was sure he’d seen nothing move in his peripherals, where had it gone? He circled the tree completely, thinking it was trying to keep the wood between him and it, but there was no sign of it.

The sound of a mischievous chuckle drew his gaze upward, Roderick spying the rat poking its head out from a hollow in the tree far above him. Seeing he had noticed it, the rodent slunk its head out of sight, Roderick shaking his head as he watched its tail flick out into the open.

“What are you doing here, rat?” he asked, holding his pistol ready. “Why do you follow me?”

It tried to pretend it wasn’t there for a few stubborn moments, then its head appeared again, its expression twisted in a snarl. “Stupid man-thing!” it called. “Man-thing follows me!”

“You are the one who’s been shadowing me all day,” he replied, shaking his head. “And I demand to know why.”

The Skaven pointed an accusing claw at him from its hiding place. “You pay attention-listen,” it growled. “Skyseeker does not explain mission to hairless, smelly, ugly man-things. Sneaky-secrets is the duty of Clan Mors master-”

“-Assassins, yeah yeah, heard that already,” he interrupted. “What’s this mission? You here to kill me? You’re not the first hired blade who’s tried, you know, though I admit I’ve never been stalked by a rat before.”

“Man-thing not my target!” it snarled. “Who’d want to kill-stab chump rider? Assassining contracts only for strongestenemies.”

“… What did you just call me?” he growled, the Skaven replying by cackling down at him. “You claim not to be after me, rodent, but you were sneaking up on my camp just a minute ago, how do you explain that?”

The rodent hesitated, bundling its hood over its head like it was ashamed. “S-Stink of food-smell,” it reluctantly explained. “Not eat-eat since bright time.”

“I should have known filching for scraps would be your reasoning, vermin,” he chuckled, the Skaven shooting him a dirty look. “But I’d be a fool to believe you. More likely you’re here to track me so your warband can do what you couldn’t, and finish me off.”

“I am no Skryre Clanrat!” the Skaven defended. “I am of exuberantClan Mors. Told dumb man-thing twice now!”

Roderick wasn’t familiar enough with Skaven to know what it was going on about, but this rat was clearly alone, and wasn’t trying to tell him otherwise, so in that regard it was being truthful.

“Well, if you are truly not my adversary as you claim to be, then I’ll give you a chance to prove it,” Roderick announced, the Skaven tilting its head in confusion. “You let me live back in the clearing when you broke my weapon, so I’ll offer you the same courtesy. Leave now, and let us never cross paths again. But if I see so much as a whisker,” he added, slapping the barrel of his pistol pointedly. “I won’t be so lenient a second time.”

“Why would man-thing let me leave-leave?” it asked, cocking its head the other direction

“I just said why,” he sighed, gesturing with his pistol. “On your way now, begone.”

“No shoot-fire Skyseeker?”

“Nope. You’re hardly worth the ammo anyway.” While he’d brought a pouch full of powder charges from the camp, he had no idea when he’d be able to resupply, and he’d rather save his bullets if it was possible.

The Skaven seemed to consider his offer for a moment. Then there was a flash of green metal, and in the space of a moment, it had brandished a warp-star, holding its arm out threateningly. “Lies!” it spat. “Man-thing said no trick-tricks before, man-thing lied then, lying now-now!”

“I give you my word this time,” he pleaded. “I’m no mercenary, I won’t break it.”

It probably had no idea what he was talking about, but it remained unconvinced, stuffing its face defiantly into the hollow, vanishing from his point of view.

“Very well,” he grumbled in frustration. “If you won’t leave of your own free will, then perhaps…”

He left the tree for a few moments, rushing off to his campfire. When he came back, the Skaven had emerged from its hidey-hole, tracking him with its large eyes. When its gaze flickered to what he was holding in his hand, its eyes seemed to outgrow their sockets, almost dropping its warp-star in surprise.

“How about I just burn you out?” he suggested, dangling the piece of firewood over the roots of her tree, the end of it crackling with flames. “A douse of oil and you’d be up in smoke in seconds, that’d get rid of you.”

“Eeeeek! Don’t do that!” it pleaded. It looked about ready to leap from its hiding place and risk the drop, but then seemed to reconsider, no doubt thinking he would get a clear shot at it if it tried to flee.

He felt a little guilty at the terrified creature’s reaction, so he decided to relent, holding the firewood away from the tree. “Alright, alright, calm down, I’m not going to torch you. Starting a forest fire would attract the wrong kind of attention anyway.”

He began to pace around the tree, the Skaven’s head swivelling on its flexible neck to track him. Either he would have to wait the rodent out, or find someplace else to camp. The latter seemed rather pointless, the Skaven would just find him again, not to mention that he didn’t have the energy for another trek, the day of fighting and walking had left him on the brink of passing out from exhaustion.

It seemed he had no choice but to test his patience against the Skaven’s own, looking up at the rodent with his arms crossed. “You’d best make yourself scarce before daylight, rodent,” he began. “I don’t think my sudden good mood is going to last till morning.”

He walked back to the fire, and this time he didn’t return, laying down on his back, holding his pistol close as he kept a vigilant watch on the tree. If the Skaven didn’t take all his warnings and leave before daybreak, he’d be left with no choice but to bring its hiding place to the torch.

He thought he saw a whisker appear around the trunk after a while, but it seemed the Skaven was just as suspicious of him, as he was of it, and the constant shuffling noises let him know the rat wasn’t budging.

At one point, the noises ceased, and Roderick thought the rat had leapt clear and finally left him be, but that was not the case. A new sound reached his ears, one that was breathy and relaxed, slowly growing in volume until even the crackling firepit couldn’t drown it out. Roderick shuffled onto his back, glaring daggers up at the tree.

The Skaven was snoring. The arrogant little rodent had the gall to fall asleep despite all his threats. At first he was convinced it was trying to fool him into a false sense of security, but the Skaven’s breaths were consistent, slow, and after one hour passed, then two, he was starting to think it truly had fallen asleep in that burrow.

Jealousy overcame him. The Skaven was at his mercy, not the other way around, so why did it get to sleep while he spent twenty four hours awake? Curse the creature and its simple-mindedness…

At least he didn’t have to worry about the rat slitting his neck in his sleep. With nothing else to occupy himself with, he found himself focusing solely on the Skaven’s breathing, muffled by the distance, but distinctly peaceful. He rubbed his eyes as they started to droop. Damn it, he needed to stay alert. Perhaps if he just rested his eyes, he could let his ears to do most of the work…

The Skaven would have an easier time avoiding him if he wasn’t watching, but his need for rest overpowered his common sense, and the urge to doze off became too strong to ignore.