Warp Token Final Word Update + Future Notes

I wanted to delay this word update to get the rest of the story out in one go, rather than leave you all hanging on one cliffhanger after another. I will be going back and revising all 158k words of Warp Token after this, editing and removing stuff as I feel its a little bloated in places. Ebooks will be out after that, and you lovely people will be the first to get your hands on them.

If anyone has any thoughts or problems or suggestions on Warp Token, feel free to comment or dm me with them! I had trouble weaving in an ending to Warp Token - I had so many variations on what would happen and it was hard to isolate one out - so if its abrupt or silly just let me know and I'll fix her up during the editing phase.

One last thing. My next story will be up for you all to decide! Keep a look out for the poll. Alright I'll stop talking now here you go.

4k words

***

“The relic,” Skyseeker breathed. The object of her mission, right there in front of her. She could hardly believe it.

“Why just… leave it out in the open?” Roderick asked, glancing around the chamber. “Are there no guardians? Or traps of any kind?”

“Stop jinxing!” Skyseeker chided. “Not want to fight another stone-thing again…”

They circled the platform, but they could see no pressure plates, no tripwires, or any discernible features that would hint at any defences in place. There was only one other thing worth of note. A throne stood on the far side of the relic, and slumped upon it was the shape of a figure, its sunken skin so bleached it was almost the same shade as the stone surrounding it, its body clad in a flowing, gilded robe not unlike what the construct had been wearing. This place was full of statues, though why the builders would carve one this style, she had no clue.

Deeming it safe, Skyseeker and Roderick stepped onto the platform, her gaze locked on the relic. It really was just sitting there, ready to be plucked by her paws.

“After so many attempts, the last of my guardians has failed.”

She almost dropped Roderick in alarm when there was movement in the corner of her eye. The figure in the throne was moving. As the lantern’s light washed over it, she noticed its hands and feet were far more sunken than she first realised. Its flesh was literally clinging it in scraps, exposing pale bone, but despite that, the figure rose fluidly to its feet, so tall that it towered over the both of them despite the platform’s being raised off the ground.

She took a step back, Roderick following suit as it opened its eyes with two fleshy clicks. Its features were the colour of ivory, the skin on its cheeks flaky, parts of it peeled away to expose parts of the skull beneath. It had no ears – those had withered away with time – instead possessing two dark holes on the sides of its head. It didn’t have a nose either, just an upraised cleft with two vertical slits, and below that was its jaw, one half of it shaved away to expose its teeth. She wasn’t’ sure whether she was looking at a face or a skull.

Standing out against its decayed features were its eyes, glowing an icy shade of blue, made all the more prominent in the surrounding shadows. They seemed to flicker every now and then, like warp fire dying in a forge, those blue points fixing on the pair of interlopers. 

“The pyramid has been breached,” it mused. Its voice was like dust, course and strained, yet there was an underlying power to it that made her fur crawl. “And by pitiful vermin no less. Pests such as thee do not suffer the sands for long.”

“That’s no way to talk to the lady,” Roderick replied, but the creature wasn’t looking at her, its cold eyes were pointed solely on him. First the statue, now this pestilent creature, everything in this city seemed to ignore her and focus on Roderick. Did nobody here recognise Skaven significance?

“D-Do we have to kill-fight you too?” she asked, trembling when the creature shifted its gaze to her. Roderick may have been acquitted to the undead, but seeing what should be a corpse moving and speaking had shaken her. This was just like how Skretch was described, all horribly mutilated, cursed to unlife.

“It would seem so,” Roderick said, clasping his greatsword in both hands. Even with his battered arm, he was taking up a stance, Skyseeker sucking down her fear as she followed suit. Before they could act, however, the undead creature raised a leathery hand, the last two of its fingers missing their flesh entirely.

“Stay your weapons,” it commanded in a booming voice. “I would exchange words before blows, if thee possesses the will.”

“You wish to talk?” Roderick asked, lowering his sword a little.

“What are you called?” it demanded, the way its dusty voice echoed making it sound like there were two of them speaking. “The peace in this temple has reigned absolute, I would know of the ones who would break it.”

She shared a glance with Roderick, shrugging up at the human. If this thing wanted to exchange pleasantries before doing battle, that was all the better for her nerves.

“My name is Roderick Erdmann of Altdorf,” her friend began. “Son of Hedmar and Agatha Erdmann. Sigmar’s Heir.”

“Barbarian,” the guttural creature scoffed. “You have come far from your fractured lands. How arrogant the flesh are, to dare call their bloodied lands an Empire.”

Roderick narrowed his eyes, the creature turning its gaze on Skyseeker, giving her an expectant moment to begin. She swallowed, mustering up all her bravery as she addressed the zombie.

“I am Sk- Wait! Let me start again!” she quickly added, placing a paw on her chest. “Ahem. I am Zral Skyseeker of Skavenblight. Son – I-I mean daughter – of… parentrat and Queek Headtaker. Possibly. Maybe. The sneakiest assassin of all Clan Mors, and Gnawdwell’s champion, yes-yes.”

“Your name is Zral?” Roderick asked, Skyseeker nodding. “You never mentioned it.

“Man-thing never asked!” she replied, but in truth she’d forgotten it. Zral was one of the few things her parentrat had said to her right before saving her from the ratwives. She only remembered it after telling Roderick her story.

“A squabbling rat, calling itself otherwise,” the undead creature interrupted. “Tell me, does your stagnant kind still gnaw on the bones of the dead? Hoping to consume ambition, rather than learn it?”

“Bones as barren as wasteland,” she explained. “not much nutritional value.”

The creature scrutinised her, giving her the impression she had not answered his question correctly. Shrugging, she turned to present matters, gesturing at the zombie with her weeping blade.

“Look, dead-thing, we’ve come for-”

“I know why you are here,” it said, cutting her off. “All intruders share the same goal as thee. The Stave of Ankhili.” 

It walked up to the platform, Skyseeker noting its feet were bare, the bones on some of its toes visible. Despite its size and decrepit appearance, its movements were oddly swift, like it was hovering just above the ground rather than walking across it, its flowing robe trailing along behind it.

“Ankhili?” Roderick asked. “What does that mean?”

It paused behind the relic’s pedestal, putting the stave between it and them, blinking its cold eyes once.

“All things within Nehekhara serve their creators. The Stave is one of many of Ankhili’s constructs, sealed within these walls for safekeeping.”

“Sealed?” Roderick echoed. “It’s just lying there.”

“Its power was needed,” it replied, sneering at him as though his comment had offended it. “The Orc raids had become a nuisance, and the Stave’s seals were broken. Its power was meant to thwart, but it only served to encourage.”

“The relic didn’t work?” Roderick asked.

“It served its function, but the Gods had other plans. The end of the unbinding summoned a tremendous amount of energy, one that sent a ripple echoing through the Warp, one felt among all the known World.”

“That must be what made Council have vision, and started my mission!” Skyseeker exclaimed, driving a fist into her paw. “Ripple-thing was felt by Grey Seers!”

“Plus Wilfred and the College of Mages.” Roderick added. “And whoever else with a keen sense of magic. The Orcs, too. How’d this ‘ripple’ happen?” he added, turning back to the creature.

“Who could fathom the reasonings of the Gods?” it replied. “Perhaps it was Tzeentch, manipulating from the shadows. Khorne’s influence grows strong, he would have reason to revel in the slaughter as invaders carried our walls. It may not have even been the Chaos Gods’, as my colleges theorised, but some lesser deity of the Aethyr, who sees our peril as nothing more than a show of amusement.”

“Horned Rat did it,” Skyseeker tittered. “Sounds like thing He would do.”

“It matters not,” the creature continued. “You’ve fought through my last guardians, and now thee is here, ready to claim the Tomb King’s spoils.”

“Those statues are your guardians?” Roderick mused.

“As Ankhili’s Keeper, it is my sworn oath to the Kings to guard this pyramid from the living. My Ushabti are an extension of that duty. The destruction of the city does not release us from our task.”

“Then, I assume you don’t mean to let us have away with the Stave?” Roderick pressed.

“My oath confines me to this room,” the Keeper replied. “Only to be fulfilled on my King’s word, or my failure to preserve its contents. The Ushabti are my final weapon, I have no means of which to stop you from absconding with my charge.”

“I see what you’re implying,” Roderick mused. “You want us to take it, which will in turn free you from this oath?”

“Free?” the Keeper huffed. It was the first time she’d heard the thing speak in a tone that wasn’t borderline comatose. “The cursed dead are never free, Barbarian. My failure will result in my bones turning to dust. A dust that will be forgotten, but not forever. One day I will serve again, under a new King, in a new dynasty, perhaps.”

“So… you won’t stop us?” Skyseeker asked.

“My oath binds me to protect the Stave, which I have fulfilled, with my constructs still roaming the streets above. A fact thee can attest to, it seems.”

“And… that means you won’t fight us? Correct?” she pressed. She couldn’t be sure of its intentions until she had a yes or no answer.

The Keeper sighed, a sound like that of a dying Skaven taking its final breath.

“No,” it said, seemingly done with its roundabout way of talking. 

“Splendid!” she said, clapping her paws. “Now, if THEE could just get out of THEE way, we can take THEE relic off your paws.”

The Keeper gestured to the Stave, but did not touch it. It seemed she and Roderick would have to take it themselves.

“I’d doubt your intentions, Tomb King,” Roderick began. “but, your Ushabti already tried to stop us. Know that I’ll release you from your oath prematurely if you try anything.”

The Keeper said nothing, giving them one last piercing stare with its blue eyes before turning around, returning to its throne, leaving just her and Roderick on the platform. They watched it sit down, then Roderick turned to face her.

“Moment of truth, eh lass?” he asked. “We’re finally here.”

“Indeed,” she replied, wringing her paws together. As it easy as it would be to reach out and seize the Stave, they both stayed rooted to the spot, not quite meeting each other’s eyes as they waited for the other to act.

She knew this moment would come ever since he’d admitted his mission mirrored her own, yet for all the time she’d had to plan it out, she wasn’t sure what to do. They’d come so far together, and now they stood on the brink of division, her heart and her brain in conflict over her next move.

The silence persevered for only a few fleeting moments, but to Skyseeker they seemed to dwell in the crypt for an age, until she sensed a shift in Roderick’s demeanour, the human looking down at her with a grin on his face.

“Well what are you waiting for?” he asked. “Take it.”

“W… What-What?” she stammered. “How you mean?”

“It’s yours,” he added, gesturing to the Stave. “You’ve earned it. Go fulfill your mission.”

She tried to speak, but a string of random noises was all she could manage. She wiped a paw down from between her eyes to her nose, trying to compose herself.

“B-But Rick-rod! Thought YOU wanted relic-thing?”

“I did, and a part of me still does,” he admitted, looking to said object. “But, perhaps it’s about time I started thinking about someone else’s needs, rather than my own. Besides, you’ve come too far to walk away empty handed.”

“Not as far as Rick-rod has,” she pointed out. “What about Fredwil, or your exile? Thought man-things needed relic to clear name-name?”

Roderick hesitated, but his resolve quickly returned.

“And deny your future in the process? I’d rather live the life of an exile, than one with a guilty conscience,” he replied. “Why do you argue with me, lass? You’ve spoken of little more than the relic since the day we met – don’t get cold feet now. Go on.”

The relic drew her eyes, its glory no doubt reflecting in the lenses of her goggles as she stared. This she did not foresee. She expected turmoil, she expected their alliance to break under the weight of their shared mission, but instead he was giving her permission? How was he always undermining her? It was so frustrating, but so exciting too. No one ever outsmarted her, at least the ones who weren’t dead.

Gnawdwell’s task, Clan Mors’ future, her place within Skavendom. So many layers within layers were battling inside her. Yet, there was one thing stood out among the others, one that held far more value to her than all others. She couldn’t believe it, but she’d come to care for the man-thing during their time together. Not just for the breeding – though that certainly played a major factor – but her feelings for him were undeniable.

Taking him up on his offer would doom him. His Empire would shun him, as would Wilfred, all for her sake. Such heights of consideration were unreachable to her… or were they?

“No,” she mumbled, a new scheme coming to fruition. There was still a way out of this that saw them both win (her a little more so), and her boundless intelligence heights had thought of one. “No!” she said, louder this time. “Relic is for you, Rick-rod!”

He flashed her a concerned look. “Lass,” he sighed. “You’ve said some… fairly unhinged things before, but perhaps that statue rid you of a few marbles? This is what you’ve always wanted!”

“You’re all I’ve wanted, Rick-rod,” she snapped. “All Skaven’s life has been spent looking over shoulder, casting suspicion, being target of death-schemes. Rick-rod is first thing ever to treat otherwise! Journey-mission has been only time I’ve let guard down around someone! Can’t go back to life without that, without you!”

“But what about your mother?” he pressed. “You told me that with this Stave, you planned to free her.”

“Not logical!” she replied. “One Skaven not enough to raid breeding pits, even with relic. Most guard-protected place in all Skavenblight! Only told man-thing that to dissuade it from Stave.”

“You… mean you were lying when you said that?” he asked.

“No-No! This was before Rick-rod’s poem, before things changed between us-us! Thought you were planning to betray, take Fredwil’s side! Skaven has always wanted to save Broodmother!”

“Then why can’t you now?” he asked. He didn’t seem angry at her, but his voice was firm, his eyes narrowed.  

“You not understand, you not seen breeding pits. You think Tilea invasion had lots of rats? Think again! Vermintides within under-empire uncountable, and Broodmothers are the heart of all Skavendom. Nothing touches them. Parentrat cannot be free, much as I want, but she made sure I could be. Will not squander chance by going back!”

He rubbed his temple, considering her words.

“And what about your Lord?” he asked. “If you returned to him empty-handed, I doubt it would end well for you.”

“Rick-rod, you’ve treated Skaven with such kindedness,” she began. “this is only way Skaven has to thank you. Would have died in Tilea if Rick-rod had not been there to save me.”

“If this is about repaying me again, banish the thought,” he replied. “I didn’t do everything up to this point expecting to whisk the relic from you in the end. You’re the closest friend I’ve had in what’s felt like an age, lass. You deserve to succeed.”

“Success means nothing if Rick-rod has to fail,” she said, intentionally mirroring his own words. “I can’t have relic. If that were so, Skaven would have to go back to Skavenblight without you… and thinking about that hurts chest. Don’t know what the man-thing word is, but becoming right-paw assassin would be… lonely without you. Man-thing part of my life, can’t go back to before. I just can’t.”

He fell silent, as did she. She was all too aware of the Keeper watching them from his throne, but he didn’t show any sign of impatience. How could he, sitting in this darkness for however long up to this point?

“I think I know what word you’re looking for,” Roderick began, lowering to a kneeling position. “When humans can’t go on without someone, that means they’re in love with them.”

“Then put me inside this love,” she insisted. “because I need you, Rick-rod! Forever-ever! If relic is price for that, then I accept!”

“Perhaps… we should decide on this later?” Roderick suggested. “Sleep on it?”

“Time for delays has passed! We decide this now-now.”

“It won’t be a simple matter, you know,” he sighed. He was starting to come round to her way of thinking, that was good. “If you wish to stay with me, and return to the Empire, I don’t think I have to tell you how dangerous it’s going to be. Wilfred and I will watch over you, that goes without saying, but every other human will be out for your blood. You’ll have to be constantly on your guard, ever vigilant, not just from the common folkd, but witchhunters, sorcerers, even magicians like Wilfred who aren’t so forthcoming. Walking about freely will be a rare commodity for you, there’ll be no one else you can trust.”

“That… sounds brilliant!” she exclaimed, Roderick quirking a brow at her. “New enemies to track, plus new schemes to craft? Can I have a burrow? Not like sunlight very much.”

“You can have whatever you want, lass.” He paused for a moment, scratching the stubble on his chin. “Perhaps with my rank restored, I could afford to buy you a nice plot of land for you to dig your own little under-empire. Would help keep you out of sight. That sound reasonable?”

Skyseeker shrieked in excitement, looping her arms around his neck and leaping into his embrace, Roderick reaching out to catch her.

“Easy, easy!” he said. “Watch the arm!”

“Sorry!” she said, pulling away a little. “Of course is reasonable! As long as man-thing visits!”

“You’re certain on this course of action?” he asked. “There was a time not long ago you spoke very highly of your victory. You really want to throw it all away for… me?”

There was nothing left for her to say, so she nodded, a look of determination on her face.

“Very well. I shall claim the relic, in Sigmar’s name.”

He got to his feet, passing her his greatsword, Skyseeker struggling to hold the giant weapon aloft. He turned to the Stave, making his way over to its podium, one arm bundled against his chest. In the inky shadows beyond, the Keeper regarded him with its cold eyes, not uttering any advice or words of caution.

Roderick paused before the relic, his last footstep echoing off the walls, reaching out with his good arm. As his fingers inched towards the haft, the words Wilfred spoke to her on her first night aboard the wolfship echoed through her thoughts.  

While the Conclave has theorised it can influence people’s intents, its mind-control properties may go both ways. Do you truly believe your Lord will be able to use it, or will it perhaps use him as soon as he lays a finger on it? Will it control you, if you were to touch it?

“W-Wait, Rick-rod...!”

Too late, his fingers had curled around the leather wrapping, Roderick lifting it off the slab. It seemed to weigh more than it looked, Roderick grimacing as he held it out in front of him, peering at the two skulls that topped the weapon. She felt the air grow thick with energy, the tendrils of magic visible in to her warp-sight redirecting to the relic’s new wielder.

She rushed forward, but the air was so heavy it was like she was wading through molasses, her progress frustratingly slow. She moved around his side, noting his eyes were clamped shut, the arm holding the stave trembling.

She called out to him, even her voice sounding distorted to her own ears. She glanced to the Keeper, brandishing her weeping blade, expecting a fight, but the creature was still content to sit on its throne, gaze solely fixed on Roderick.

Her eyes shifted, first to the Stave, then to her dagger. Roderick wasn’t answering her, and the Stave was obviously responsible. What else could it do if she didn’t act right this instant?

She raised her weapon, but Roderick’s eyes blazed open at the next instant, fixing themselves upon her.

“No!” he yelled, and a strange sensation washed over her, one that compelled her to do as commanded. Her arm fell to her side, sliding the blade back into her belt before she even had time to realise what she was doing.

That thick, soupy feeling in the air began to subside, Roderick gasping as though he hadn’t taken a breath in minutes. She couldn’t be certain in the dim light of the lantern, but Roderick’s face had taken on a slightly withered appearance, a few strands of his brown hair losing their colouration.

“Rick-rod?” she whispered, taking him by the arm. There were goosebumps all along his skin. “You alright-right? What happened?”

“I felt a… rush,” he replied, turning the stave over in his hand. “as though all the power in the world was mine for one fleeting moment. Everything is… tingly…”

“You better not be mind-controlled,” she grumbled.  

“No, I am well,” he replied, giving her one of those little grins of his. “It tried to compel me, though,” he continued. “I heard a whisper. It told me that… all will bend, or fall before me. Staring with you,” he added, a solemn look on his face.

“You nearly did,” she murmured. “Actually that’s not true. Man-thing made Skaven sheath dagger.”

“My apologies,” he replied. “I couldn’t let you destroy the one thing we’ve fought so hard to achieve. It’s gone now, the voice,” he added. “I suppose that old adage about love being the ultimate power holds some truth.”

“It is done,” a gravelly voice breathed, the pair turning to the Keeper. “Leave this place, the remaining Ushabti will be drawn to my resting place in time.”

“… Hey, question!” Skyseeker began. “Can you use relic-thing on him?”

“No,” the Keeper answered, a touch of annoyance in its dusty tone.

“Why not?” she asked. “Pass it here Rick-rod and give me a go.”

“I think we’ve tarried long enough,” Roderick replied. “Let’s leave this place, I feel like I’ve not seen the sun in hours.”

They turned to the stone passageway they’d entered from, passing through the threshold and out into the confined entryway beyond. She stole a look back at the Keeper, noting its arms were reclined against the armrests of the throne, the blue light from its eyes slowly going out. It hadn’t been lying about its oath releasing it from this world.

Hoping to never see another creature of its ilk again, she turned her back on it, she and Roderick leaving the chamber behind for good.

-xXx-

Skyseeker helped Roderick lay down among the grass, placing his greatsword down beside him. They’d walked out of the crevasse and back into the city proper, returning to the oasis, as it was the more hospitable option as opposed to the dusty temples.

“Rick-rod sure you feeling fine?” she asked, taking a seat beside him, dipping her feet into the cool water of the pond. “Stumbled a few times back there.”

“That fight with the statue has caught up with me is all,” he answered, laying his head on the ground and staring at the sky. “I feel as though I could sleep for a day straight.”

“We’ve earned that much at least,” she said, laying down with him. She draped an arm over his chest in a silent request to cuddle, Roderick obliging without pause. “And… how the relic feel?”

“Heavy…. and cold,” Roderick replied. The Stave was clutched in his opposite hand, his grip on it tightening after a second. “No more whispers, fortunately.”

“Maybe voice saw Rick-rod’s faith in Marsig and scurried away,” she suggested, Roderick grinning at her.

“Sigmar,” he chuckled. “How do you always manage to reverse everyone’s name?”

She shrugged, settling in on the soft grass.

“Would you like to hold it, lass?”

She cocked her head at him. He had not let go of the relic since claiming it back in the temple, and now he was offering it to her? She sat up, looking the Stave over, the way it gleamed in the light only adding to its allure. She reached out a paw, but before she could touch it, soemthign made her hesitate. Her people were a fickle one, obsessed and ruled over to powers of all kinds, and she doubted she would ever be able to let the Stave go once she touched it.

“No,” she answered, resting her paw on his stomach. “Not my prize any more.”

Roderick looked like he wanted to argue, but she shook her head.

“My mission is complete,” she continued after a few moments, watching a cloud drift by. “Skaven has recovered relic – just as masterminded Gnawdwell asked, but maybe not in way he intended,” she giggled. “Won’t be glad-happy once he knows of my betrayal.”

“You don’t sound very concerned.”

“That’s because my mate is Rick-rod, Controller of Minds! With you in my possession, nothing can stop me! I am now a free rat!”

“Funny of you to think you’re the one in control of this relationship,” he said, smirking at her. “You do realise I have the literal power to bend wills with this staff.”

“That power is mine-mine too,” she replied coyly. “Allow me to… demonstration.”

She swung a leg over his knees, loosening his belt with practiced speed. Roderick immediately set the Stave aside, running his hands up her furry thighs, shifting beneath her into a more comfortable position.

“See?” she chuckled, batting her tail against his leg. “You can’t resist Skaven wiles.”

“Apparently not,” he replied. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he bent her forward, snatching the tip of her muzzle with his lips, joining with her in a gentle kiss. She’d been concerned about his shift in demeanour after he’d claimed the Stave, but all those worries were soothed by his warm embrace. She believed in his willpower, and his strength. He would resist whatever force lurked within the relic, perhaps even learn to control if given time.

Could he dominate the will of all their enemies one day? Raise an army, found an Empire? She reigned in her ambitions. Small steps first, worry about the big changes later, and changes there would be.

“You think we have time for a breed or two?” she asked once they’d parted. “Will Kessel-man wait for us?”

“Wilfred will keep him there as long as he wishes,” Roderick replied. “He knows our trek across the desert will be long, we can afford to spend a little while just… relaxing.”

“Among other things,” she cooed, reaching down to pull her loincloth to the side, her movements slow, but deliberate, Roderick’s eyes falling to her nethers. “I’m so glad I did not kill-stab you during fight-tussle, Rick-rod.”

“Love you too, Zral.”

***

Thank you all so much for reading. Again, any suggestions you have I'm always open to hear them!