“Two Fangs Long Gone” Faclan – Contest Winner

*Note from Baelnorn: The highlighted text was what was written from the previous two rounds.

One would think-think that a dense continent spanning jungle would be space aplenty. For many things to live if not happily at least far enough apart to not clash. Which for simple beasts would be true. You wouldn’t hang around the big toothed predator if you were a prey. But with the growth of species a complex mind often pushes past what would be smart for you to continue to live. Wants, desires, goals, and order-commands from your betters made you take those  

steps toward the predators. Weapon-tools held tightly as you did so. Or have the predators come to seek  you out. For daring to exist in their world. And for trying to take their stuff, infest their cities, and unleash  plague-ruin on them as a whole. 

The big teeth had their reasons – but the smaller squeakers were tenacious to purging. And at  least today had the edge in the Winds of Magic to assist their smash and grab. Not that the Grey Seer  expected the Lizard-things to be waiting for them. The reports were so often full of ghosts in the trees  and the Lizard-things would move around all the time-time. But this one time they had been correct – precisely so – were skulls not currently being caved in Sissilik would be impressed that any Skaven got  back to report such an accurate measure of the enemy. 

The reports had been correct. The Lizard-things were frequenters of Axlotl and its surrounding  jungle. Now they had a catastrophe that was currently coating the thick shrubs and trees with black-red  blood and corpses. At least the Lizard-things were falling too. Not that most could see that past the  hissing savages before them. Including the Grey Seer leading this ill-fated patrol. Helkeek had wanted  this to be a success so begged and scraped to get Sissilik to lead the mission. He would be melted later.  But the Seer was currently too busy snarling at the helmeted face of the Red Crest as he and the Skink  pushed against each other to try and keep the Skinks club locked against his staff so it couldn’t come  down and split the Skavens skull open. The sickly green electricity arching between the crooks of the  Seers horns keeping the Red Crest at arms length as it hissed at the rat again. 

“Infi— Rat Scum!” Sissiliks’ Lustrian language knowledge missing some exotic words, or his ears  were just too full of his pounding heart and swirling Warp to hear it all. “Sotek want you ——ice!” But he  got the jist – with the screaming toothed maw and lethal club filling in the blanks.  

“Asunder-torn to bring him fourth!” Sissilik would grunt back before managing to just barely lift a  foot with the downward pressure and stamp it down. The cracking of stone not nearly as deafening as  the Seer had hoped but the Red Crest did leap aside to avoid the scar in the earth that was called fourth.  Unfortunately for Sissilik he tore his club sideways at the same time. Which locked into the effigy-totem  of the Great Horned One on top of his staff and pulled it out of his paws. The screech of joy at his  disarming needed a rapid response if he wanted to keep his life. So a clap of his paws together before 

holding them with his elbows slightly bent as the lightning danced between his claws and palms. “Come come then! I’ll fry-cook you like a frog!” 

While the Red Crest did pause momentarily at the Warp Lightning pointed in his direction he did  not flee. Or stop his rush for more than a few seconds. Either the Lizard-thing was foolhardy enough to  not care about the spell or knew enough to know that a full cast would take time for the Seer to  complete. Neither were good as the Skink Chief would screech and leap forward. Fully over the small  crack in the earth with war club held in both hands over his head. Sissilik only able to begin to incant  ‘Energy-warp’ before he was forced to jump backwards to avoid the strike. The sparks between his  fingers and claws slightly increasing in speed and brightness but still not enough. It was during his leap  that the Seer also tripped over the combination of his robe and one of the hundreds of small shrubs  dotting the battlefield. 

To the credit-praise of his Master back at the Temple he did not drop the spell. They beat that  skill into him well enough at least. 

Throwing back his hairless feet as he started to fall backwards Sissilik heard the deep whump of  the club smacking into the earth as he clenched his feets and held them together as he rolled backwards.  His horns thankfully not catching on anything as he tucked to pivot over his left shoulder and soon back  onto his knees. ‘Form to smite’ before he was up on his feet again. The Skink quick to rise as well as he  jumped over his grounded club and spun sideways. Gold adornment tipped tail snapping out toward the Seer who ducked low and pushed forward. Hands open again to try and shove into the side of the Red  Crest before he could finish his spin and bring his club up to a ready position again. It was moderately  successful as the Skink had to roll sideways away from the Seer but one of the lizards clawed feet kicked  up as he rolled to slash across Sissiliks’ right outstretched arm. 

But still – he held the spell as his red eyes clenched through the pain. His own black-red blood  dripping out the torn robe as he skittered to the side to grab his staff again. ‘Form to Ruin!’ Hed snarl as  he held the metal staff between him and the Chief – the metal itself starting to spark as his still open  hand was starting to coalesce the sparks into a sickly green orb. But it wasn’t complete yet. 

Sissilik expected the Skink to charge again. Either with blind heroism or knowledge that the  Lightning wasn’t ready yet. So when the Lizard just stood there. As if he was accepting his zap-death – Sissilik fumbled his next phrase as he had already taken a half step back. “R…Ruin!” Before the Skink let  the club hang from his wrist as he slid his weapon hand into a belt pouch as his other hand flipped  behind his back to grab a cylinder from his back. Brining it forward as he slammed a feather into the end  facing himself. Before bringing the tube up to his mouth. The rats red eyes blinking once before he just  barely had the presence of mind to duck as fast as he could. The blowdart just barely passing over his  head! And the Lizard was already loading another dart. So now Sissilik had the impotence to move – not  the Chief. And his staff would do a very poor job trying to block darts flying at him. Quickly glancing to  the side at the battle still raging around the two of them the Seer saw nothing that he could pull in front  of himself as a shield. “Ruin comes!”

Nothing for it then. Forward, rapidly. His pink feet splatting into the mud and dirt as the Seer  kept his eyes locked on the muzzle of the blowgun as it was raised to point at him again. The golden  helmet over the top of it no longer in focus as he dashed closer. But he could see it enough to see that it  tilted backwards – down! Almost face planting right into the self same mud and blood as the dart  pierced though his robe between his knees. But the painted claws of the Chief were now right in front of  him. Now-now! 

“Ruin-death on all!” As he reached out his glowing none staff hand up toward the Chief. Only to  find that the golden helmet, now fully in focus due to it being right in front of the rats face, was rapidly  closing the distance. 

CLANG

“AAAGHLB!” Clenching his open lightning filled hand as the Skink drove his helmet right into the  front of his face Sissilik rolled away from the Lizard. Staff dropped to the ground as that hand zipped up  to his face. Just too slow to catch his majestic-perfect front fangs from falling out of his gums and mouth.  To splort and sink into the earth – muddy and bloody. The grey fur around his chin quickly becoming  stained with his own blood as the Seer clenched his eyes shut as he laid on his back rolling side to side.  With a hand clamped over his mouth trying and failing to hold in the pain and blood as his still clenched  hand smacked into the mud beside him. Kicking as well to try and do anything to alleviate the pain in his  skull.  

He didn’t even hear the hissing snickering of the Skink as he rose up to his full height and strode  over toward him. Giving his club and blowgun a lazy spin as the roar and squeak of battle around them  had even died down. The remaining eyes turning to the two of them. The long blue tail flicking in  satisfaction of seeing his enemy prone and helpless before him. Scum requiring extermination. And now  – to finish it. A foot raised up with the claws splayed apart before it was stomped down on the Seers  chest. Making the rat cough up a mouth full of blood as the Chief raised up his club and bent himself  over with a toothy smirk under that only slightly blood specked helmet. 

“Now – scum.” Hed drawl out as the Seer below him continued to squirm and cry. “Die – as the  Old Ones deman,” was as far as he got before both blood covered Skaven paws wetly slapped into the  sides of his helmet. Much more blood spat up into his face from the Seer as those red eyes stared up  through the tears. 

“Ruin-death!” He still had not dropped the spell. And now its full force was brought to bear  between Sissiliks’ paws and into the Skinks helmeted skull. Far too late to try and pull away as the green white lightning arced in the slight space between his helmet and head – even between his teeth – as his  screams were brief as his brain was fried inside his own skull. Barely a second passed before even his  eyes burst. For the Seers benefit when he released the Skink was kind enough to fall over sideways.  Allowing him to sit and eventually stand up as he held his still bleeding mouth. Formally nice blue robe  pretty drenched in both his own and the Skinks blood as he breathed a sigh of relief despite the  immense pain. The Lizard-things were fleeing with their leader dead. Even better one of his Stormvermin  limped over to salute even with a Javelin stuck in his back armor.

“Seer-Master! You live?!” If he were honest with his underling – which he would not be only the  Great Horned One would get this out of him – Sissilik was shocked too. But now was not the time to  show weakness as he quickly retrieved his staff as well as the Chiefs club and blowgun. Loot was loot.  Ideas already forming in his mind. 

“Yesh-yesh,” The Seer whistled through his missing fangs before turning to point back the way  they had come. “Back…Musht…talk-kill shat shet-moushe thing Helkeek!” The Stormie nodding before  Sissilik would add. “And get-drag shat Chief-shing! He will adorn me-me!” The Skaven limping their way  back to their base as quick as they could. The Red-Crest skin soon atop Sissiliks head as a shawl and  hood, their blowgun now his staff of authority and ranged tool, and the club the rats personal weapon.  Despite the lost fangs – overall a win-win!