Chapter 2

Karak Angkul

World Edge's mountain

Under the depths of the world edge's mountains, a large battle was playing out between two armies. One army was composed of, essentially, miniaturized humans, Dwarves as people would call them. These Dwarves were equipped with strong plate armor and weaponry that looked as if they were forged by an artist and not a blacksmith. They also had an arrange of siege weaponry that they were using to pound their enemy relentlessly along with some basic firearms and even flamethrowers. As if that wasn't enough, they even had rotary-winged aircraft that bombed the Dwarf's enemy from the air. All this was combined with the sheer discipline and durability these Dwarf seemed to have. They shrugged off the number of attacks that their enemy was throwing at them and they seemed to keep calm despite being outnumbered. All in all, it was a potent fighting force, if a bit archaic.

On the other side, the army was composed off, for lack of a better term, Ratmen. Aside from some variation between their brown fur, the Ratmen were all the same, appearance wise. They all wore basic leather or wooden armor, that all looked like it was scavenged or ramshackled together, to protect themselves. They all stood on their hindlegs and looked like they were half-starved. Their weapons were also of poor quality. All of their weapons had some semblance of rust of some kind or was broken in some way that prevented the weapons from reaching their full glory. As if that wasn't enough, their coordination and discipline was also sloppy. Whenever they seemed to lose on a front, the Ratmen fled, scared of death. And whenever the Dwarves charged, they too ran, only to charge again when reinforcement of the same quality of gear appeared to help them. Yet despite all this poor quality across the board, the Ratmen were holding. They significantly outnumbered their enemies to a ratio of twenty to one and it seemed more were coming to reinforce them if the sounds of screeching rats were of any indication. And that was a shame for it seems that the Dwarves aren't receiving any reinforcements anytime soon, meaning each warrior they lost was irreplaceable. And that was the greatest advantage that the Ratmen had over their foes for, no matter how many Rats were slain, there was always more. For that was the way of the Skaven and the Under-Empire. Even if a million of their kind was lost in a single battle, the Skaven will find such casualties acceptable if they achieve their military goal.

Currently that goal was to take the stronghold called Karak Angkul, the home of the Dwarves they were fighting. For weeks, both sides have been at each other's throats. The Skaven want to conquer Karak Angkul in order to use it as a staging ground to attack other Dwarf strongholds in the region as well as plundering its vast array of armor and weapons for themselves. The Dwarfs, ready to die for their home, fought back and held the Skaven onslaught at bay. Unfortunately for the Dwarfs, however, the Skaven onslaught was a mere diversion for something far more diabolical.

In a massive underground cave, far from the battles raging across in caves and tunnels that were closer to the surface, a single Skaven was working on a weapon of devastating proportions. The weapon, secured on a pedestal that kept it from hitting the ground, was a bronze sphere that had numerous spikes all over it. Between those spikes, were pieces of glass that allowed one to see the contents of the sphere. The contents were a large stockpile of crystals that glowed green. Though the crystals seemed harmless, they were far from harmless. These crystals contained volatile energy that, if used incorrectly, could cause devasting damage to anyone in the immediate area. And for the single occupant in the room, that was what he was hoping would happen.

Fiddling with a ramshackle console that looked like it would explode at any moment, the Skaven growled in himself as he pressed multiple buttons. This Skaven was far different to the ones that were fighting just above him.

Unlike them, he wore blue metal armor that, despite looking like it was just welded together by a child, protected his entire body immensely. The armor also seemed to be welded into his body as it hugged his body tightly, far more than a normal suit of armor should in order to provide comfort for the wearer. Along with that armor, came a mask that covered his skull and protected his head from blunt force and projectiles. The armor also had a large backpack, almost half the size of the Skaven himself, that had several tubes that connected with various parts of the armor, sending green fuel to it. The most shocking part of the Skaven's gear, however, was his left arm. Instead of a normal arm, the left arm was a metal claw that had a small project in the middle of it. This too was connected to the backpack that provided it with fuel, likely ammunition for the projector. To top it all off, the Rat had a massive halberd that was over twice his height. Next to the base of the blade, was a crystal of the same kind used in the sphere. Aside from the gear the rat had, he was also unique in that he had green eyes and white fur. While many civilizations would call him an abomination, to the Skaven, this was a sign that the rat was destined for greatness. And this rat was eager to prove that he was indeed destined for greatness. He was so eager to prove that he was the greatest of all Skaven. That he was destined to be the future ruler of his clan, overthrowing his current leader once he was done with creating an invention that would surpass even his greatness. While some would call this vanity or overambition, for Skaven this was natural. And indeed, this Skaven had the achievements to prove that he was indeed capable of taking command of his clan. For he was Ikit Claw, the Right-fang of Morskittar, the current ruler of Clan Skyre and a member of the council of thirteen, the rulers of all Skaven.

Ikit Claw was an ambitious Skaven, even more so than others of his kind. Like most of his clan, Ikit was a Warlock Engineer, a Skaven that combined technology and magic together to form a powerful hybrid of the two that could surpass the two when they're used individually. That is if this power doesn't kill them when they attempt to use it. Safety notwithstanding, Ikit, like other Warlock Engineers, constantly innovated and created terrifying weapons that, if working correctly, can prove far more devastating than anything their enemies have at their disposal. But unlike other Warlock Engineers, Ikit succeeded far more times than any other of his kind.

Indeed, it was because of him that the terrifying, if slightly comical, Doomwheel, a powerful weapon that has killed far more Dwarves that the race would like to admit, was born. He also helped increase the power and range of some of Skyre's most used and sold weapons, the Ratling Guns, the Jezzails, and the Warpfire throwers as well increasing their reliability so as to prevent them from exploding whenever a Skaven weapon team used them. They still explode, far more than what other civilizations would call useable and safe, but the fact that Ikit had improved their reliability at all demonstrated his brains and ingenuity. But all that will pale in comparison to his greatest and latest invention, which he was currently working on right now. Looking at his creation, Ikit chuckled darkly as he inspected the bronze sphere that was in front of him.

"Soon, my creation." Thought Ikit as he went back to work. "You will destroy-kill many beard-things! And when you do, all Skavendom will worship me! Ikit Claw!" The weapon that Ikit was so obsessed with was a weapon of terrible power. It was called the Doomsphere and it was perhaps the most dangerous invention and Skaven had invented as of yet. Through the use of sorcery, technology, and Warpstone, the green crystals inside the sphere, Ikit had created the first ever atomic bomb. Once unleashed, the weapon can, in Ikit's projections, destroy an entire mountain if placed in the correct spot. Such an invention will elevate him beyond even Morskittar as it will give the Skaven an enormous advantage against their enemies. No more will they have to rely on useless slaves and full body charges. No more will they have to worry about faulty equipment. Now, all they need to do was simply send a single Doomsphere on their enemies positions and they'll all die, lost to the explosion or warp residue.

Just thinking of the rewards that he would get for accomplishing this task, made Ikit giddy. With a watering mouth, the Skaven pressed a final button and soon a countdown initiated. Laughing manically, Ikit began to make his retreat. Many, if not all, the Skaven sent by the council of thirteen will die when it was activated but it didn't matter to Ikit. So long as he lived, then nothing of value will be lost this day. Of course, something will be lost if he didn't escape before the Doomsphere went off. Fortunately, he had his teleport device ready to transport him back to Skavenblight at the flick of a button. With another round of laughter, he was about to teleport out of his workshop when he heard the sound of his hated nemesis. The one that had kept preventing him from completing his beautiful creation. Looking over, Ikit growled as he saw a Dwarf, covered in thick armor and equipped with an axe, was Klarak Bronzehammer. How he got here was a mystery, but upon seeing him, Ikit glared at him, momentarily forgetting that he needed to leave.

"Ikit Claw! Your time is over!" Yelled Bronzehammer as he glared at Ikit Claw, who was standing just feet away from his terrible weapon, hands at a Skaven made console. Growling, Ikit stopped to glare back at Bronzehammer.

Though Ikit despised Dwarves, this particular Dwarf angered him more than others. For he had sabotaged his earlier efforts to create the Doomsphere. Three times at that. The first time was when he had tried to capture the engineers to Karak Drak in hopes to force them to help him build his Doomsphere. Bronzehammer stopped that attempt. The 2nd time, he actually forced Ikit from deploying an uncompleted Doomsphere in order to save his own life. Though the Doomsphere exploded, it wasn't nearly as good of an explosion as Ikit would have like. Even though he saved some data from the Dwarf before he came and ruined his efforts to create his precious weapon, the fact that Bronzehammer stopped him again really boiled his blood.

It was the 3rd time that really got to Ikit. This time, Ikit had a completed Doomsphere at his disposal. If it wasn't for that fool Thanquol, the Dwarves of Karak Angkul would be gone and the Skaven would have a new base of operations for invading other Karaks. All these attempts made Ikit hate Bronzehammer with a passion. So much so that he made it his life's goal to not only create the Doomsphere, but to also kill Bronzehammer. In a slow and painful manner. As Ikit glared at his rival, Bronzehammer looked at the Doomsphere.

Thank the ancestors that he made it in time. While the Dwarves of his Karak were distracting the main Skaven army, Bronzehammer had led a team of Dwarf Ironbreakers to kill his rival, Ikit Claw. Initially, Bronzehammer didn't think that Ikit was here. He thought this was a simple attack from Clan Mors, who were always eager to attack Dwarves and steal their weapons and armor. This was partly due to the fact that he didn't see many Skaven weapon teams and war machines, something that was a stable in a Skyre military group. But then he noticed large amount of barazhunk, a metal-alloy that he made, were being stolen by Skaven. Knowing that only one rat would want barazhunk, Bronzehammer convinced his king to allow him to go deeper into the Skaven lines to find Ikit Claw. And it appears he was right. Ikit Claw was here and it seemed he was recreating the Doomsphere yet again. Though he lost the Ironbreakers to various Skaven who remained behind to tend to their various weapons or were simply waiting for their time to head to battle, it was worth it to catch Ikit. Upon seeing another Doomsphere, Bronzehammer glared at Ikit with unmatched hatred. That foolish rat! Did he not know of what would happen should such a weapon be unleashed? If such a terrible weapon was unleashed, it could bring another Time of Woes! The Dwarf engineer refused to see that happen. Even if it meant his death, he won't stop until Ikit Claw was dead, thereby saving the world from his weapon of mass destruction. "You foolish Rat! Do you not see what that weapon of yours will do?! You will bring death and destruction upon us all!" Ikit simply growled at that.

"That is point-point, stupid beard-thing!" Yelled Ikit, pointing a metal claw at his rival. "The Doomsphere is made to destroy-kill the enemies of Skyre! With this device, all enemies of Skyre will be forced to either bow-submit to Skyre or be destroyed!" Shaking his head, Bronzehammer roared and charged at the Skaven, hoping to stop him before he could make his escape. Chuckling, Ikit used his magic to teleport him to safety. Much as he wanted to use his more technical method of transportation, it was still a prototype and can only safely transported an individual once. Something that Ikit learned when he used a slave to test his teleporter device. Landing several feet away from Bronzehammer, Ikit smirked at his rival.

"Its too late, Dwarf-thing!" Yelled Ikit Claw. "My greatest invention is already active-live! You don't have enough time to kill me and deactivate my creation! The dwarf-things of Karak Angkul will go up in flame-flame! And it was done by me-me! Ikit Claw!"

"Not if this Dwarf has anything to say about it!" Yelled Bronzehammer as he charged at Doomsphere. He may want Ikit Claw dead, but the safety of his Karak was more important than his grudge against the Skaven warlock. Upon seeing Bronzehammer going for his precious device, Ikit screamed in rage and pointed his powerful halberd, Storm Daemon, at the Dwarf. Within just seconds, the halberd glowed green as Warp energy gathered at the tip and the crystal at the base of the blade. With a yell, Ikit launched the gathered warp energy at Bronzehammer, sending a bolt of Warp lightning at the Dwarf. Anticipating the attack, Bronzehammer ducked under just in time for the warp lightning bolt to miss him, causing it to hit a wall, where it created a massive hole. Growling, Ikit charged at the Dwarf.

"If he stop-halts my weapon now! I'll be the laughing stock of Clan Skyre!" Thought Ikit as he fired warp fire from the projector within his claw. "Worse yet, is that Morskittar would be furious with me-me!" Ikit remembered the warning that Morskittar had given him before he embarked on his mission to complete the Doomsphere. The leader of Clan Skyre was annoyed that his right-hand rat was embarking on another journey to complete his Doomsphere. His last two endeavors in competing the weapon had ended in failures as well as costing them valuable Warpstone, the prized mineral of Skaven society. Not to mention that Ikit's obsession with recreating his terrible weapon had put them at odds with the other clans, more than usual. So, while Morskittar had allowed him to go on this endeavor to recreate his Doomsphere, he gave Ikit a warning. Fail again, and Ikit will be replaced.

Not wanting to lose his valuable position as Morskittar's right hand rat, even if he was making plans to overthrow the current leader of Clan Skyre, Ikit was willing to do whatever it took to ensure the success of his weapon. And if that meant endangering his life to ensure that it went off, so be it.

Charging at Bronzehammer, Ikit opened up his metal claw, revealing his projector, which glowed before firing a stream of green fire that threatened to melt Bronzehammer. This was one of Ikit's many tricks. Though he replaced his left hand for a metal claw after a freak laboratory experiment, that Ikit would claim was to replace his arm, in order to make use of his left arm again, Ikit wasn't satisfied. No, he wanted more than just an arm. So, he inserted a miniaturized version of a warpfire projector into the claw, one of his more successful projects that he kept to himself. Though it held only a small number of shots, the projector was just as dangerous as a full sized warpfire thrower that was used by their weapon teams. Bronzehammer, as Ikit predicted, jumped to avoid the flame of warpfire, leaving him wide open to an attack from Ikit. With a roar, Ikit tackled the Dwarf to the ground. Shocked that the Skaven had went into melee combat so eagerly, Bronzehammer couldn't react in time before Ikit rammed his halberd into his Gromril armor. Fortunately for the Dwarf, Gromril was the strongest material available to the Dwarves so the halberd only made a small dent. Thanking his ancestors, Bronzehammer grabbed Ikit by the throat and attempted to snap his neck.

Ikit, anticipating this, just fired a small stream of warpfire from his warpfire projector. The fire sprayed all over Bronzehammer's armor, causing him to let go of Ikit in a panic. As Bronzehammer scrambled to take off his armor before it could grow hot enough to burn him, Ikit chuckled. He had used the durability of Gromril against Bronzehammer. Because of its strength, it took several minutes for a stream of warpfire to actually melt the armor. While this was bad in the eyes of some, Ikit saw a way to adapt. Instead of melting the armor, why not just heat it to the point that the wearer would burn alive from wearing it, forcing them to either discard their armor to stay alive, thus leaving them vulnerable to attack, or leaving it on and risk dying from their own set of armor. To Ikit's disappointment, Bronzehammer managed to remove his armor without it burning him too much. Once he took his armor off, Bronzehammer glared at Ikit.

"That was an heirloom of my family!" Yelled Bronzehammer as he brandished his axe. That Gromril armor was used by his family since the Time of Woes. His father and his father used it against the Greenskin tide and various Skaven onslaughts. And now Ikit had ruined it, adding another reason for him to kill the Skaven as well as adding another offense to the book of grudges. Charging again, Bronzehammer roared a battle roar, eager to take the head of Ikit. Grinning, Ikit sidestepped as Bronzehammer tried to cleave his head in two. Roaring in rage, Bronzehammer continued to attack. As Ikit either blocked or dodged Bronzehammer's attacks, he did something that no one thought a Skaven would do. Troll his opponent.

"You call that an attack-hit?" Taunted Ikit as he blocked a swing of Bronzehammer's axe with his halberd's blade. "Even a Skaven slave can do better than you-you! You bring shame-disappoint your clan more-more than I-I could ever do!" Roaring in barely controlled anger, Bronzehammer continued to try and hit Ikit with each failed hit furthering increasing his anger, making him sloppy and easier to predict. As he continued to dodge, Ikit could barely contain the want to grin. Ever since the 3rd time that Bronzehammer had sabotaged his efforts to make a Doomsphere, Ikit had went into great thought. Not into inventing things, no, but thinking of ways to beat-kill Bronzehammer so that he would stop getting in his way.

He thought and thought of many ways to kill Bronzehammer. Some plans involved sending Eshin, the Skaven clan of assassins, assassins to kill Bronzehammer. Others include killing him by sending a doom rocket on top of his head. All plans, to Ikit's frustration only failed or didn't have a high enough chance to kill Bronzehammer or at least confirm his death. He went through countless plans, modifying or tossing them away when they proved to be failures, and he would have kept doing so until he went to Clan Mors, on the request of Morskittar, to assist them in dealing with some Dwarves that were getting too close to Mors's territory. Officially the assistance was because Morskittar was wanted dead Dwarves, but Ikit, being the smart Skaven he was, knew the real reason. Morskittar wanted to test out the new improved Ratling guns, which featured a new autoloading contraption that allowed it to be crewed by only one Skaven, on the Dwarves. While most Skaven that used the new Ratling guns died, more due to mechanical failure than anything else, Morskittar called the guns a success as they killed many Dwarves with the guns, around a hundred and fifty when compared to the ninety that they lost. But that wasn't the important part. No, the important part was what he learned that day that made him see the best way to kill Bronzehammer.

It was a stroke of luck, really, though if you asked Ikit, he would claim that it was a message from the Horned Rat, the god of the Skaven, himself. At the very height of the battle, Queek Headtaker, the leader for the Clan Mors troops, went face to face against the leader of the Dwarf army, a Dwarf lord by a name that Ikit forgot. The Dwarf lord, seeing the battle was going to the Skaven, tried to kill the leaders, which were Ikit and Queek, in hopes that it would cause the Skaven to rout. Amused at the time, Ikit allowed Queek, who was eager to gain another trophy to his collection, to fight the Dwarf lord. At first, Ikit assumed that Queek would win with ease, the Dwarf didn't look like a good fighter when compared to the likes of the Dwarf king Belegar Ironhammer, someone that Queek was eager to take the head of, but then he saw something that shocked and intrigued him. As they fought, the Dwarf lord had began to insult Queek and his collection, calling him vain, stupid, or someone that was compensating for something. While the insults didn't work at first, when the Dwarf lord had begun to instigate that Queek acquired the heads via means to trickery and deceit, not through actual combat, Queek lost it and began to fight blindly and madly. While this made Queek much more dangerous should a blow from his weapon, Dwarf Gouger, connect with the Dwarve's body, it also made it easy to predict his moves and attacks.

Eventually Queek made a near fatal mistake by thrusting at the Dwarf, who dodged the attack, before disarming Queek by slamming his hammer into the Skaven's gut. The Skaven warlord would have died then and there, if it weren't for Ikit, who used his Storm Daemon to launch a magic bolt of Warp lightning at the Dwarf, who was too busy being in awe at having actually beaten Queek Headtaker. The bolt killed the Dwarf as it pierced his helmet and went out his head, straight into some of Queek's red guard, who were rushing to save their master. Pride wounded, Queek took it upon himself to slaughter the remaining Dwarf commanders as they fled, their discipline broken when their leader died. As Queek led their troops in slaughtering their enemies, Ikit went into thought.

Queek was a powerful duelist, probably the most powerful in all of Skavendom. To think that simple words were able to make him sloppy enough to cause an inexperienced Dwarf lord to actually beat him, even kill him if Ikit wasn't there, caused Ikit to think a great deal. What if he used such a tactic against Klarak Bronzehammer? Would he fall to such a tactic just like Queek did? Would it make him sloppy enough to allow Ikit, who wasn't as good as a fighter as Bronzehammer, to beat him? If so, then it was something that Ikit needed to devout time to research and practice.

For months since that day, Ikit had been researching the pride of the Dwarves, to see what would cause them to go into an uncontrollable rage. He even spent considerable amounts of Warpstone tokens to pay off Eshin assassins to take Dwarf books and objects of their culture so that he can understand their way of thinking. Eventually, he managed to figure out the most effective ways to anger a Dwarf. Through testing of various Dwarves the Skaven had captured, Ikit had found the most effective ways to send a Dwarf into an uncontrollable rage.

And it seems to be paying off now as Bronzehammer's attacks were getting more and more sloppy as Ikit continued to taunt and anger the Dwarf.

"Ha!" Yelled Ikit as he effortless dodged a slice from Bronzehammer's axe. "You fight-fight like breeder! Sloppy and without aim! Don't even deserve armor from clan! Bring shame-shame for even wearing it!" Roaring for umpteenth time, Bronzehammer tossed his axe away and tackled Ikit, who was laughing at his plan working that he didn't see the Dwarves sudden change in tactics, to the ground. Punching the rat, Bronzehammer poured all his hate and anger of the rat into his punches. After punching the rat a dozen times, Bronzehammer watched as the rat groaned in pain. Seeing that he was too much in pain to recognize him, Bronzehammer reached went to grab his axe. Upon picking it up, however, he suddenly jerked as a halberd pierced his chest. Looking down at his bloody chest in shock, Bronzehammer turned to see Ikit running over to him. Grabbing his halberd and pulling it out, Ikit yelled out as he jumped in the air, supported by his backpack that fired up green flames from exhaust ports that were located at the lower end of the backpack, before slamming his halberd into Bronzehammer's head, sending the blade of Ikit's magic halberd into Bronzehammer's brain, killing Ikit's rival once and for all. Reveling at finally killing his rival, Ikit began to laugh manically as he began to stab and cut up his rival. As he made each cut and slice, Ikit felt a source of satisfaction that he never had since he begun his Doomsphere project. After cutting off the head of Bronzehammer, Ikit went to grab the Dwarf's armor, a fitting trophy that he'll use to improve his own armor. After placing his hands on the armor, Ikit looked at his Doomsphere, which was now close to detonating. Grinning, Ikit made a mock salute to Bronzehammer.

"You try-try to stop me-me, beard-thing, but as always, Ikit has proven to be superior to all!" Thought Ikit before laughing manically again. Just as he was about to teleport himself away, Ikit heard the sounds of…something below him. Looking down, Ikit was in shock at seeing a purple circle thing below him. Before he could do anything, the circle thing pulled him in with his trophy. With its prize, the circle thing was gone. Just in time too as the Doomsphere went off after the circle thing closed. Which was a shame too as Ikit would have loved to hear the reports that came after it detonated. For Karak Angkul, the home of Bronzehammer, was completely destroyed.

Some forest

Deep in a forest, a seemingly young woman was groaning as she lay on a bed. She was, honestly, quite attractive. With light green eyes that were like emeralds that matched her similarly colored hair, she was quite the looker. Something that should be expected as she was an elf, a race of immortal humanoids with knife-shaped ears. While some humans have romanticized views on Elves, thinking they are pure and perfect, this was far from the truth. Something that this elf was supporting.

"Stupid parents." Thought the Elf as she got up, ruffling her hair in frustration. "Why the hell are they interfering with my life now!? They didn't have a problem with me going adventuring with other races before, but now they have a problem?" Before we go further, it should be explained what the elf's occupation is and why she was so down.

The elf was an adventure, which was essentially a mercenary as adventures were people that either fought or worked for people in exchange for momentary value. And as with most groups that fought monetary gain, some were only for the money while others fought for their own morals while also gaining some monetary gain for their actions. The elf was in the latter category along with her group of fellow adventurers. For the past year and a half, the group of adventurers had done their fair share of good deeds and jobs that not only helped themselves but also protect the weak from the dangers that inhabit the world. And for a time, things were good. She got along with her fellow teammates, drank and had fun with them, as well as exploring the world, something that she always wanted to do when she was young. Unfortunately, it seemed everything was coming down now. Much sooner than she would expect and like.

Her parents, curse them, were demanding for her to return back to the forest and settle down with another elf. They claimed that her time as an adventurer was over and that it was time for her to raise a family. Needless to say, that pissed her off to no end, especially when they threatened to post a job for adventurers to force her to come back. Not wanting her friends to be hurt over something so stupid, the elf returned home and argued with her parents, who stood firm in their decision that it was time for her to stop being an adventurer and start family life, even though she could hold back family life for literally millennias as her kind can live forever, only being killed by conventional diseases or injuries. So far, they only allowed her to continue adventuring if it was with other elves and not other races, something that angered her. After arguing with them for hours, she stormed off to her room when she realized that they weren't going to listen to her. So now, she was sulking in her room, wondering what to do.

Scoffing, she got up and went to grab her signature bows, which was probed up on the door, along with her quiver of arrows and her knives. "Might as well go out and do something. Heard that Goblins are around the forest. Might as well find them and kill them." Grabbing her cloak, she ventured out of her room, intending to sneak out without her parent's knowledge.

Few hours later

"*Sighs* This isn't even a fight." Thought the elf as she fired an arrow at a retreating goblin, watching as the arrow pierced the monster's head, splattering blood everywhere. The sight of seeing another of their kind being killed caused the other Goblins to cry out in fear before running in a myriad of directions. If they were better coordinated or smarter, they would have realized that their attacker was on top of a tree, sniping them from afar. Though it probably wouldn't have better as none of them had bows and arrows and the elf was too high in the air for the Goblins to throw their weapons high enough to hit her. "Must be wanderers that lost their nest. Wonder if Goblin Slayer was the one that killed them." Thinking of one of her party members, the Elf began to mope. If her parents forced her to give up adventuring, she'll never be able to see him again along with the others, including that insufferable Dwarf. She'll miss the Lizardman and his obsession with cheese. She'll miss that cute little priestess that was so naïve and adorable. She'll even miss that insufferable Dwarf and his remarks on her small chest. But most of all she'll miss that idiot in armor that stole her heart. Sighing, she was about to aim her bow on another goblin when she heard something form behind. Turning around, the elf gasped in shock at seeing a purple circle behind her. Her ears twitching, the Elf went out to touch it, curiosity overtaking her. When she touched it, however, the circle began to force her inside, causing her to cry out in shock. Trying to take back her arm, the elf couldn't do anything but watch as the circle sucked her in before closing.



Somewhere, deep underwater, a deep voice was laughing as the last of its chosen were sucked through its portals. Now was the time to initiate the next phase of its plan.