//------------------------------// // Chapter Six // Story: My Little Skaven // by Autocharth //------------------------------// Skaven live and die in filth, covered in stinking musk and their own waste. They cower for most of their short lives in warrens full to bursting with their kin unless a plague monk of Clan Pestilens happened to visit or a Clan Skryre device malfunctions (or works perfectly as the case may be). Refuse stains their fur and clothes, the smell alone enough to make many of their non-skaven slaves suffocate at the stench. It was considered yet one more point of pride among the children of the Horned Rat that no smell could lay them low like it did the weak lesser races. Except, it turns out, cleaning products. Shampoo, or possibly some other thing of the sort. Something pine fresh, certainly. Thanquol was aware of a floating sensation. It reminded him of the few times he had been forced to swim somewhere. In fact, he was fairly certain he was in liquid of some kind. It was warm. Pleasantly so. He remembered killing some minor human lordling for a relic it had unearthed, murdering it personally while it was having a bath. The way the warp lightning had acted on the water had been rather interesting. He snickered at the memories of his following experiments. That vile little warlock engineer who had tried to cheat him a few weeks later had an unfortunate bout of misfortune. Electrocuted after a mysterious localised flood hit his laboratories, what a shame, it really was a disgrace that the local workers weren’t more careful. That some looters had stolen every pebble of warpstone as well was just shameful. “Wakey-wakey, dear customer.” A strangely accented voice called out to him. His eyes popped open and a more recent memory returned. The ponies! Thanquol erupted from the water like a slightly confused mass of wet fur. This was because, in all ways that mattered and those that did not, he realised he was. His claws grasped the edge of the tub and water spilled to the floor in his wake. Disoriented, he had no defence against the sudden attack save a loud squeal of shock. Soft, cushiony things pressed and rubbed at him from all sides, held by two pairs of sure hooves. “Never fear, dear customer.” Aloe told him, her warm if tired smile unseen. “You have enjoyed pleasing nap while we worked.” Lotus added. Together the sisters towelled their strangest customer yet, strained from perhaps hours of work. Aloe continued. “Was great challenge, greater even than getting sap from Spike’s scales.” Lotus frowned slightly. “He squirms a lot, and thinks he will drown in the tub. Energetic little boy with scales, always playing with Cutie Mark Crusaders and getting sap everywhere.” “Unhand me!” Thanquol snarled, struggling weakly. Reluctantly renewing as his loss of consciousness proved to be his wounds still ached and his muscled were sore. Furthermore his claws were dulled! His precious, naturally blade-like claws had been reduced to little more than those of newly spawn ratlings. They had been gnawed to perfect sharpness by his own fangs! “Just a moment, valued customer.” Aloe and Lotus dragged him over to a large mirror, pulling away as they arrived. Thanquol thrashed at the empty air for a few seconds before realising they had left him alone. He ran a claw along his muzzle, eyes darting around suspiciously. Something caught his attention and Thanquol found himself gazing into a reflection of...himself? The Grey Seer froze. He looked....it was him, right? It had to be. Yet his fur was...clean. It was practically shining! Thanquol’s grey fur seemed nearly silver and he couldn’t help but run his fingers through it. It was svelte, fine to the touch like a fine Cathayian rug. Thanquol ran his tongue along his muzzle, tasting whatever they had used, when he saw his teeth. He bared them at the mirror, reaching up to tap the white fangs with a dull claw. They may have had the foolishness to take the points from his claws but his teeth- oh how they shone! Exposing his upper jaw, he admired his razor sharp maw with more than a little interest. Perhaps he could test them out – discreetly – on one of Fluttershy’s minions? The thought brought a spark of malevolent glee that became a rather sinister cackle when verbalised. “Err, if sir does not mind me to pointing out, his teeth seem to be in some state of...disrepair.” Aloe said, watching their customer’s mouth nervously. “Colgate, the local dentist, may be of some help there. Until then we have polished and cleaned your teeth.” Thanquol continued to preen, largely oblivious to the rather run down state of the pony-things. When it did occur to him the mage-rat brushed it aside. They should be happy that he deigned to allow them to groom his magnificent fur and care for his fine body. Yes, he decided, when he had these creatures under his command these two would be his personal attendants. The white collars and headbands would have to go, some heavy black iron collars would be much more useful. Maybe a hint of warpstone dust in the collars while the metal was being smelted before forging as a reward. His personal heraldry engraved on the front so all would know they were his to punish and command, because sometimes jealous underlings forgot to respect their superior’s belongings as they properly should. A door swung open and Fluttershy appeared, a basket in her mouth. She smiled shyly around it at the sight of Thanquol. Her smile quailed slightly in the face of the glare he shot her way. Opening his mouth to reprimand her for leaving his august presence without his permission reason asserted itself just in time. Inside he scowled, hating every moment even as he forced his anger away and tried to... ...to... ...to smile. Thanquol had smiled before, many times. The main difference was those times he had just completed one of his cunning and devious plans, seen an enemy dead or ingested a large dose of godstone. These factors rather caused any smile to turn out as something from the nightmare of small children and everyone else for that matter. Smiling without a liberal amount of malevolent glee, dark satisfaction or evil intent was a difficult and somewhat painful process. “Welcome-welcome, Fluttersla- err, Fluttershy.” He grounded out, smiling toothily. Fluttershy stood still for a moment blinking slightly in confusion. Eventually she decided the hate filled glare had just been her imagination. She smiled again, content in the knowledge that while Thanquol might be a little on the rough side deep down his heart was in the right place. Physically speaking, she was entirely correct. Metaphorically.... Thanquol clutched the memory of watching a human slave being crushed beneath the weight of a trap wall in one of his many human-mazes back in Skavenblight. He smiled crookedly, remembering fondly the screams of the slave. ....not so much. Reaching up to check on his horns Thanquol noted with satisfaction that whatever other flaws they had, flaws surely thrown into ever greater contrast in his own brilliant presence, they had cleaned the dirt from them. The points remained as they ever had, sharp enough to break skin. Noticing his interest Lotus smiled nervously. “Horns are not something we wish to mess with, and since you were asleep we did not wish to disturb you. You did not wish them dulled for safety?” “No-no!” The glare he directed at the spa-pony froze her. Remembering himself Thanquol tried his awkward.... smile again. “No, they must be kept sharp. Sharp and pointed, as the Horned Rat decrees!” He was unsure why he added the last part but it seemed to do the trick. “Horned Rat?” Lotus inquired, taking a step back just in case. “Who is that?” Fluttershy looked up as well, remembering hearing her guest mention the term once or twice. She had been too shy to actually ask of course. Thanquol nodded grandly, straightening and keeping his expression serious. “Mightiest god, father to Skaven-kind. I am but a humble servant of the Horned Rat, born with His mark.” He indicated his horns and coat, letting a smirk grow on his muzzle. “Born to power, as He-Who-Scuttles-In-The-Dark willed my kind to command power in His name!” The three ponies in the room exchanged confused looks but nodded nonetheless. “So....” Aloe stepped back, looking her work over. “You are a priest?” “I just said-spoke that!” He snarled. “Great-powerful Grey Seer! Grand sorcerer, respected by all of Skavendom. My magic is second to none among all Grey Seers and fellow magerats bow in awe at the favour the Horned one has bestowed on me.” “Um, oh, I don’t mean to interrupt...” Fluttershy whimpered quietly, fearing Thanquol’s aggressive tone. “But, if you want I have a friend who knows a lot about a magic. We can go see her after Rarity arrives, if you don’t mind I mean.” Thanquol stared at her silently. His beady red eyes bored into her with ruthless, cold curiosity. “I’m sorry.” She added on general principle. “Yessssss.” He hissed, reaching for where his staff was propped next to the mirror. As he did so, Thanquol found it pleasing clean. While grim had long been ingrained in its wood the metal of his many amulets (long since divested of their warpstone ornaments so he had all of it at hand) shone and reflected the many lights. Taking his staff in hand Thanquol turned, teeth gleaming in a razor smile. “Take me to her!” His powerful voice commanded with the full authority of a person used to being obeyed. He brought the butt of his staff down hard, sending a bang throughout the room. “Take me to your magepony!” Fluttershy stared at him. He looked back, suddenly confused by the redness in her cheeks. Was the pony-thing ill? He had no time for such foolishness! Perhaps a pinch of warpstone dust, just a pinch mind you, would get her running again. Behind him, Aloe coughed politely. “Valued costumer, I believe you may have...forgotten something.” Her voiced conveyed nearly hidden amusement. Behind Fluttershy, in the main room through which ponies entered the spa house, a door opened and a certain white-coated fashionista trotted accompanied by a gust of wind. The folded clothing in her magical grip was unaffected by the wind. Thanquol was not. He glanced down, curious at the strange feeling of the wind on his... ....oh. *** There we go, a little chapter six after ages of not updating. Most of my attention is focused on Chapter 14 of Justice Itself but I felt like I should post something to announce my return. And thanks to my recent purchase of "The Folklore of Discworld" I have a great idea for a certain ratman. Oh ho ho yes I do.