[color=39b54a][h3]Deep Below the Lower Halls of Karak Eight Peaks....[/h3][/color]


Fizquik Blacktail stood brooding within his laboratory, tucked within a deep crevice below the maze of ramshackle buildings and scaffolding which was the Pillar City. A surprisingly well constructed pulley system winched skaven in and out of his loathsome abode, which was brimming wall to rocky wall with all manner of hastily constructed mechanical equipment. The lines between magic and technology blurred utterly in the mad Warlock Engineer's lair. Luminescent jars filled with all manner of strange deadly chemical concoctions shared shelf space with rows and rows of half-finished inventions. Warp-lighting produced by spinning turbines arc'd around the lab between various electrical nodes and made the fur of many a rat-kin stand on end. 

Amongst this display of insane science, a great number of wretched skaven slaves worked tirelessly to fulfill their masters wishes in as speedy a manner as possible, lest they become the next unwilling test subject for the Warlock’s latest and greatest weapon. They cranked levers, excavated large amounts of rock, spun turbines, or ran like mad rats atop strange devices to power some part of the lab. Fizquik’s engineer apprentices acted like vicious task masters, extolling the slaves to greater feats of physical labor under threats of horrific violence should they halt for even a moment. Their own blinding fear of the mad Warlock being the only thing that kept their envious hearts from turning against him. 

While the din around him was chaos, Fizquik himself was unperturbed, keeping his snout glued to the schematics he’d created for his latest invention. They were nearly ready, it was time for a little test run. 

With a triumphant squeek, Fizquik rolled the ratskin parchment up and lifted it upwards, extolling his own genius,

“I am mighty-great Warlock! Greatest of all Skryre engineers! Moskittar is sure to reward Fizquik with many more warptokens for this invention. We must test it now yes-yes, show fruits of my labors. YOU! Slave-thing!” 

Fizquik pointed a claw at one of the wretched passing slaves. The poor skaven stopped immediately in his tracks and nearly emptied his glands with fear. No-one ever wanted to catch the Warlock’s attention. 

“Go now! Scurry-hurry quick and pull lever over there!” He pointed to a particularly heavy looking rusted lever which was sitting preciously amongst arcing warp energy next to a large turbine generator. 

The slave didn’t move for the briefest of moments, frozen with fear and was just about to beg for the Warlock’s mercy when Fizquik pulled out his warplock pistol and fired, blasting the slave back and leaving a bloodied mass where the warp bullet had tore through fur and skin. 

“Too late!” Fizquik chittered manically, “Slave-thing too slow. Never make a Warlock Engineer of mighty Clan Skryre wait. You! Other slave-thing!” He pointed to another one of the passing slaves, “Pull lever now!”

Without hesitation the next slave immediately moved to obey the Warlock’s command. Judging, wisely, that it was better to take his chances with whatever mad device Fizquik was intending to test than to face certain death if he did not. The slave ran up to the lever and threw his entire body against it, wedging it back and initializing the process. The slave spilled to the floor and was getting back up on his paws, when a bolt of warp energy erupted next to his him and nearly seared his fur off entirely. The slave gave a loud squeek of utter terror before bolting away. 

Fizquik stared up in crazed glee as he traced the energy flow released by the lever from turbine to turbine, electrode to electrode until it ended at a massive contraption at the center of his lab. A strange half-formed device that was a mass of pistons and spinning gears, kick started to life by the jolt of warp current. Fizquik’s goggles reflected the great green glow the device was giving off as he grinned in surefire astonishment of his brilliance,

“Yes-yes! More power! Pull all levers! Flip all switches! More! More!”

A crazed laugh escaped him which caused slaves and apprentices alike to wince with fear. His celebrations were cut short however, when the device began to sputter. 

Fizquik lowered his gaze and his snout dropped in fear. The mass of Skaven within his lab ran for cover as the device shook violently. The Warlock ducked down behind a heavy boulder and plugged his ears just in time for a great explosion to rip through the lab. Warpfire blazed a bright iridescent green all around, engulfing every skaven unfortunate enough to be too close to it, and singeing the fur of many others far enough away to escape the immediate blast. 

When it was finally over, Fizquik peeked out over the rock to see part of his lab in cinders, and the charred and mutilated corpses of many slaves all around. An unfortunate slave ran past him completely engulfed in warpfire before falling to the rocky earth unable to continue his flight. 

“Hmm. Too much energy. Must fix-correct for next time. Bigger capacitors! Yes! That is the answer!” 

Fizquik withdrew a tattered and hastily bound journal from his satchel and cracked it open, jotted a few notes down and returned it swiftly before turning his attention to his remaining workers cowering in the corners,

“Clean up this mess Slave-things! Quickly! Before I kill-slay each of you!” As if to prove he meant business, he fired another shot from his warplock pistol at a nearby slave, missing the poor rat by only a hair. He’d actually meant to hit him, but Fizquik would let them believe that was just a warning shot. 

“How am I supposed to keep creating great inventions for Clan Skryre with such incompetent fools at my disposal?” He wondered aloud, “Slave filth. Must ask Clan Moulder for better slave stock...”

Fizquik was about to return to his work when a voice from behind him dared to call his name,

“Is this the lab of Warlock Fizquik?”

Fizquik spun around, and came face to face with a rather proud looking clan-rat. Clearly not one of his rabble given the armor he wore and the sword at his side...and lack of burnt fur,

“Who asks?” He snarled back, “Speak-say quick!” 

With a smug expression, the visitor pulled forth a medallion and displayed it to the Warlock. It was jet-black with twelve scratches around its circumference. At the center, was the symbol of the Great Horned Rat. Fizquik eyed it suspiciously. It immediately dawned on him what this was, and the sight of a large heavily-armored Albino Stormvermin coming up behind the visitor like a bodyguard confirmed it. Fizquik couldn’t help but release a little fear musk. 

“An emissary of the Council...” The visitor said proudly, “Council says its time for Skaven to take-conquer all of mountain for glory of Horned Rat...we have work to do.”