The front rank of the defenders are Stormvermin, the black-furred elite soldiers of the Skaven armies, and unlike the Clanrats behind them they remain solely focused on the task at hand, teeth bared and halberds levelled at the approaching Dwarves. They know they are the elite and the Dwarves approaching are the closest thing the Dwarves have to a militia, and they feel eagerness, not fear, at the impending violence. What better boast than to have tasted Dwarf-flesh claimed in battle? But they don't realize that you're just as aware of the discrepancy as they are, and instead of accelerating to a charge as they near the defences, they open ranks, and from where they were sheltered by the shields and bodies of the Karak Izor Dwarves, Clan Angrund emerges at a run., a rainbow of light from ten thousand runes or more activating in an instant causing the Skaven to flinch back for just a second, and it's at that second that Clan Angrund strikes. They more than anyone in the hold have felt the presence of Skaven neighbours as a constant aggravation, and they don't vent that outrage now; they harness it to fuel the flurry of runic violence that is unleashed upon the Skaven lines, tearing through dozens of black-furred elites in seconds.
