Deathmaster Ska'Vreetch
Ska'Vreetch moved through the ruin-smoke like a god.
Fast-fast! Silent-silent! Yes-yes!
The fat-man-thing-throne-sitter — Governor Varlock — cowered in his fortress of stone and steel, thinking walls and soldiers would save-save him.
Fool-idiot! Not from Ska'Vreetch!
Outside, the whole sky burned-burned.
Ska'min war-beasts raged through the city streets. Warp-fire cannons ripped the heavens apart. Clan Skak's white-furred psykers blasted screaming Guardsmen into piles of dust.
All distraction! All chaos-veil! Just as planned-planned.
The real victory was here, inside these pretty walls.
The true kill-kill!
Ska'Vreetch tightened his clawed hands around his swords — two in claws, one clamped between dagger-teeth, the last dancing at the tip of his coiling tail.
Four blades. Four deaths for every heartbeat. Four promises kept to Ska'vornu.
Behind him crept his ten lesser-kin — assassins of Clan Eshinox, sworn to follow... for now-now.
Whisper-quiet, they slithered through vents and ducts, planting warpstone charges, disabling heavy turrets, slitting sentry throats.
The walls bled.
The corridors wept.
The fortress crumbled from within.
Soon-soon... Ska'Vreetch would claim the great kill-kill!
The death of a whole world would bear his name-name! "Ska'Vreetch the Governor-Slayer," yes-yes!
His whiskers twitched as he crept through the final passage — the throne-room lay beyond.
He could smell it. Smell the fear, the desperation. Sweet-sweet!
Then, just as his claws pressed against the great iron doors...
Treachery!
A blade hissed from behind.
One of his own — Ska'Zreetch, the fool-fool — lunged, aiming to bury a poisoned dagger in Ska'Vreetch's back.
Heh. Predictable.
Ska'Vreetch whirled with lethal grace.
His tail-blade lashed out, catching Ska'Zreetch across the throat with a single, surgical flick. Blood sprayed in a bright arc, painting the walls with treachery.
The assassin gurgled and fell, twitching.
The others hesitated — confused, panicked.
That was all the time Ska'Vreetch needed.
He sprang among them, a blur of steel and hate, blades flashing from hand, mouth, and tail.
One by one, he silenced their pathetic betrayal-squeaks.
Slashed throats.
Pierced hearts.
Spines split with brutal, efficient flicks of green-lit warpsteel.
In less than a minute, the hall was still.
Only Ska'Vreetch remained — blood-spattered, breathing hard, grinning a broken-toothed grin around the hilt clenched between his jaws.
"Better off dead-dead, yes-yes," he spat, stepping over Ska'Zreetch's corpse.
He kicked open the throne-room doors.
Inside, the Imperial Governor stood in his gilded armor, power sword trembling in his fat fingers, bodyguards arrayed in desperate ranks.
They opened fire the moment they saw him.
Las-blasts stitched the air. Bolter shells roared.
Ska'Vreetch moved like water.
He spun, twisted, ducked, and leapt — four swords singing.
Tail-blade flicked a grenadier's throat.
Mouth-blade drove into a Commissar's eye-socket.
Twin claw-blades danced, severing limbs and spilling guts.
In moments, the last of the guards fell, broken and bleeding.
The Governor tried to run, stumbling up the steps toward his throne, but Ska'Vreetch was faster — always faster.
He slammed the fat man-thing back into his gaudy chair, pinning him there with a casual stab of his left claw-blade through the Governor's gut.
The man-thing screamed.
Ska'Vreetch leaned close, blood dripping from his ragged whiskers.
"Great-Great Ska'Vreetch sends greetings, yes-yes!"
With a brutal twist of his mouth-blade, he silenced the scream forever.
As the fortress burned and crumbled, Ska'Vreetch stood atop the governor's throne, swords gleaming, blood soaking his ragged assassin's cloak.
Through shattered windows, he watched the Ska'min hordes tearing the city apart in endless, joyous betrayal and conquest.
His heart swelled with pride.
He had done it.
The kill-kill was his.
The glory was his.
And if some new fool Ska'min Warlord thought-thought to take the credit...
Well.
Ska'Vreetch's blades were always thirsty.
Authors Note: I'm on a role with these here is the next Ska'min to add to the potential foes and this guy is based on the one piece rat himself Deathmaster Snikch. Also another piece of lore i wanted to add about the Ska'min is that the Ska' at the beginning of the names of a lot of their notables/warlords is a title any Ska'min who achieves even the slightest measure of renown — whether through military prowess, technological innovation, or sheer notoriety — will append the prefix "Ska-" to their name. In their language it mean "The Great" or "Greatest of" although in most cases the title is self bestowed, an often times the feat in which the Ska'min claims to have achieve is ether overexaggerated or completely fabricated. Hope you all enjoy.
