#131 Battle XXXVIII - The Massacre of the Ratmen

“So the Wyrmhole Covenant was seen here?” Lord Tzunaak pointed a clawlike fingernail at the map in his command tent. Both map and tent were apparently fashioned from human hide and painted with blood and ichor.

“Yes my Lord, they are now led by a Grey Seer known as Skratchik Thirteen-Whispers. They have gathered some emberstone and are growing in strength.” Kastellan Trutz was as softspoken as ever, but Tzunaak detected a quiet malevolence in her voice which pleased him. Her knights had fought the Wyrmhole Covenant before. “They attacked and ransacked the encampment of the Antipolos Reliquists.”

“Ah, the inevitability of death and taxes! Who commands these Bonereapers?”

“Leige-Mortek Erimos, my Lord.”

“Never heard of him. But it might help us to keep him on side…”

“The other Skaven swarm has been identified too,” rasped Voltaire the Mortified. “They are Hannibal’s Horde. They saw off a tribe of Gloomspites.”

“We knew there would be no shortage of vermin on the Ravaged Coast. They must be put down – whether by us or someone else.” Tzunaak allowed himself a moment of private amusement as he imagined swarms of ratmen being blown apart by Kharadron bombs… And no doubt the Stormcast would be keen to stem the Skaven tide as well.

Lord Tzunaak smiled, exposing the tips of his fangs between his thin, pale lips. He traced a finger over the map before him – where and against whom would it best suit his purposes to attack next? So many enemies, so much blood to enjoy.

“’Skratchik Thirteen-Whispers’ you say he calls himself?” Lord Tzunaak could already smell the rodent musk of fear...

My first game of the campaign against Steve. I have to confess my all-cavalry army idea was envisaged purely to wind him up. We shall see whether or not his fears were well-founded…

Lord Tzunaak stretched his neck and shoulders. He did not often wear his chiropteran form, and it always took him a moment to feel himself again after transforming back. But Kastellan Stercus of the Templars Ascendent had been oblivious to one slightly larger bat flapping around while he wrote his missive to the Pontifex Surrexit. Tzunaak had never doubted that Stercus was reporting back to Barfunweltz, and so long as this so-called ‘crusade’ was going well, the spying would only aid his cause. If he was to inveigle the Pontifex into accepting him into his inner circle, he needed to be presented as both a cunning general and a zealous ‘crusader’. And in Tzunaak’s mind, one of those descriptions was in fact true.

Stercus had reported the details of the battle to the Pontifex in painstaking detail: He described how the ostensible ‘crusaders’ had paused to entice the Wyrmhole Covenant forward and then performed a series of perfectly timed and absolutely devastating cavalry charges. Most of the Skaven had been ground into the ashy soil before the rest had scattered into hiding among the volcanic rocks. Even their hulking, monstrous brood terror was dragged down and trampled under hood. The battle had only lasted a few moments, the Gravelords had suffered not even a scratch, and much emberstone had been gathered.

Yes, that was just the sort of message Tzunaak wanted the Pontifex to hear. Meanwhile, he himself was receiving reports that Hannibal's Horde, the other Skaven swarm had been pushed back by the Kharadron Overlords. By all accounts, Dragonbeard’s hit-and-run tactics were as cowardly as the ratmen’s! Nonetheless, the Skaven threat had retreated into their tunnels, for the time being at least.

But the Kharadron problem remained. And it was not a problem the Brotherhood of Mannfred was equipped to solve alone. Where were the other factions who had travelled to the Ravaged Coast? Let them come forth and do battle and die!

Poor Steve. A double turn of multiple Blood Knight charges would break most armies. One day his Broodterror will live long enough to fight back. One day...