A Searing Welcome
The Ikkilitian Tails
Chapter II: The Paws of Moulder
Part I: A Searing Welcome

They had fled the city of Skavenblight, and had hidden in the back tunnels for many days, scrounging off what little scraps they could find. No-rat could trace the bombing of Ikkilitzan's execution to him, but it never hurt to be safe. He didn't dare return to the Skryre Quarter after such an explosion, clearly of Skryre origins, had been made.

Then again, his sudden flight would certainly cast the blame on him. Inquisitors would surely not miss that. Especially that Tharol character... Ikkilit didn't trust him at all. They were probably hunting him now.

ikkilit pushed that thought out of his mind as he emerged from the darkness of a tunnel into the chilling darkness of the surface world. Morrslieb glowed sickly in the sky, while its brother's light paled. The Skaven grinned at the sight, and shivering, gestured to his brother. Ikkil followed hesitantly, his paws bound. He had tried to escape his brother's clutches several days ago, but the spell binding him to the cloth was too powerful. After the experience, Ikkil was several chunks of flesh lighter.

Wincing as the cold northern wind bit into his still open wounds, Ikkil muttered something to himself.

Ikkilit, who had returned to gazing at the twin moons, returned his attention to his brother. "What-what was that, dear brother?"

Ikkil glared up at Ikkilit, defiance shining in his eyes. "N-n-nothing."

Ikkilit shook his head sadly. "Brother, brother..." he turned and stepped away from his brother, then suddenly whirled around and lashed out with his paw, backhanding Ikkil across the snout. Howling, Ikkil collapsed into a gibbering heap. Ikkilit walked over and kicked his brother in the side. The gibbering increased.

"When I ask a question, brother, I expect a truth. Is that understood?" Ikkil made no sign of understanding. Snarling, Ikkilit kicked his brother again, and then turned and stalked down the hill that the tunnel opened out onto. Ikkil would follow... he always did. Without Ikkilit, he couldn't be free of his bonds.

Sure enough, a few moments later, Ikkilit heard the sound of his brother limping across the parched grass, gasping for the chill air. Ikkilit smiled to himself, and kept walking across the frosted plains.

***

After two hours of walking, their trek finally paid off. Ikkilit stopped, and Ikkil, still struggling to catch up, came to a halt a few moments later.

"Here we are, brother.... our new home." Ikkil looked up frm the ground and gasped in wonder.

Massive mountainsides came up from the ground, forming a circle around a large area in the middle of nowehere. Eerie green lights emitted from the top pf the masive crater, and one could make out the vague silhouettes of flying Skaven against the night sky.

Even at their distance, the shrieks of the massive gate of Hell Pit could be heard. The screams of pain went through Ikkilit's head, and his grin grew broader. "Come, let us approach."

It took another half-hour before the gate was before him. Heat emenated from it in gusts of searing wind, a contrast to the frozen air of the northern plains.

The massive gate dwarfed them. Cages of shrieking, torured captives hung off of its black iron, and corpses were strewn about it like leftover food-stuffs.

"Now this is my kind of place..." murmured Ikkilit as he stepped forward, his brother reluntantly following. The gate was open, as it always was... the catch was the river of red-hot lava beyond it.

And the mob of Skaven trying to get into the city. Most of them had come from tunnels on the outskirts of Hell Pit, what is often called the 'foreigners'' part of the city. They stood on the banks of the river, trying to barter passage across the river, negotiating with the ferryrat. Ikkilit smiled. Well, he wasn't going to wait...

Staying away from the crowd, he drew Ikkil in closer. "We're getting across that river now." He reached out and grabbed his brother's wrist. Closing his eyes, he muttered a few words under his breath. The air around him became cold.

Then they vanished.

Only to reappear twenty feet above the middle of the river. From there, gravity did its work. The two plummeted down to the searing hot river below as he fell, Ikkilit muttered several more words, and the two plunged into the thick orange river.

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