The Strigoi Vampire known as Prince Rametep spends most of his time sleeping under Miragliano besides his huge collection of treasured magic items, guarded by his court of Ghouls. None of the grave robbers who disturb his lair ever leave again not even the Skaven.[2a]
A Gift for Rametep[]
The last group of Night Runner Kreesqueek had sent to scout the access routes to the Miragliano sewers had returned. The blackrobed assassin and his Eshin acolytes had been hired by a warrior clan and sent on a mission to dispatch the city's water reservoirs as a first step before launching a fullscale assault.[1a]
"South entrance closed-closed, master. Heavy door, new door, smell of human things all around. Guards in the sewers. Bad-bad.", the leader of the first expedition exclaimed.
"East door same-same, Master", confirmed the second expedition.
A growl of frustration revealed the assassin's sharp teeth as he turned to the leader of the third group. "West door? The same there? Talk-talk!"
"Ehr, ehm, no Master. Abandoned west door, old and rusty, weak-weak; but...", the skaven hesitated.
"But what?", growled the murderer. "Master, tunnels run through the place where humanthings lay dead on earth...", the Night Runner answered.
"Ah, grave-graves! I will never-never understand human things. Why waste a meal like that ...? Without guards and with a rusty door? Perfect." ,concluded the murderer.
"But, Master. Smell of dead-things there. Walking dead."
"Bah, the fights with human-things are worse. They just smell bad. Control your fear. Let us go there."
The cemetery was old and humans had probably abandoned it many centuries ago. Vines, mold and lichen covered the entire site and many graves were cracked or fallen. The sharp eyes of the assassin, to which the moonlight was as clear as daylight, surveyed the place. Immediately, he realized that many graves had been desecrated and the earth was heaped up everywhere, as if a herd of animals had searched for the corpses under the ground. Or, perhaps, as if the occupants of the coffins had decided to come out of their graves by digging from below ...
These were obvious signs of the presence of the undead, but Kreesqueek had a mission to fulfill and decided to continue. He would much rather face the Undead than have to inform the Night Lord that he had failed to carry out his orders. The Skaven slipped silently through the sinister old graveyard searching for the crypt that would allow them access to Miragliano's sewage system.
"There!", whispered the assassin, pointing to a small building with a dome decorated with ruined statues and the emblem of the noble Biscione family. "Our way in. Here."
The Night Runner were approaching the dark stairs when they heard a strange noise coming from below. It was an extremely loud cry that assaulted the skaven's senses forcing them to cover their ears with their paws. The screaming stopped as suddenly as it had started. A strange feeling of cold and terror washed over the ratmen, their neck hair standing on end and their hearts racing. The musk of fear hung in the air.
Then, the undead attacked. Reeling skeleton warriors with moldy swords and shields in their hideous hands emerged from the crypt and mausoleums and surrounded the skaven. They hesitated and looked like they were about to run, but Kreesqueek did not lose control. "Don't run! If you flee, I will kill you. All of you! Fight-fight! They die easily."
To prove it, he launched a throwing star at the neck of a skeleton. The skull fell to the ground and, after a second, the rest of the bones exploded.
Spurred on by the assassin's presence, the Night Runner swallowed their fear, brandished their swords, and attacked. The black-furred killer smiled. He wondered if any of his subordinates would have noticed that the devastating effect of the star that was released was due to warpstone dust and the poison that permeated all weapons of Kreesqueek. Well, at least now they were fighting. The assassin knew that the greatest weapon of his adversaries was the fear they inspired and that they had nothing real skill in close combat. The fight ended quickly, as the well-trained adepts of the Eshin Clan had destroyed all necromantic creations, receiving only minor injuries in return.
"I told you! Easy-easy! Too slow for the Eshin Clan. Now move." The Night Runner began to descend through the damp crypt and, soon, they reached a large underground chapel. "The entrance under the altar", whispered the assassin. "Over there ... wait!", this time, the attack was much more sudden and unexpected. From their hiding places in the alcoves and behind the columns of the chapel, beastly humanoid creatures leaped upon the skaven, snarling fiercely.
"Ghouls-ghouls!", Kreesqueek shouted as he drew his two swords and threw himself into combat.
This time the combat was very different. Ghouls weren't as slow as skeletons, but their attack was fierce. Although the Night Runner were more skilled and better armed, the bodies of these hideous creatures seemed insensitive to pain, and the slightest scratch from their poisonous claws or fangs could be fatal. Before long, several skaven lay on the ground as their dying bodies writhed in their last death throes. The ratmen probably would have been defeated had Kreesqueek not been there, but the formidable assassin made all the difference in the fight. Master Eshin moved with extraordinary speed, his deadly warpstone weapons slicing right and left, leaving behind a pile of mutilated bodies. After a few minutes, the ferocity of the ghouls had faded after Kreesqueek's furious attack, which had sent them fleeing to the back of the room. Led by the assassin, the three remaining Night Runners chased after them, but stopped in amazement when they saw where the ghouls were headed. The creatures had gathered around a marble sarcophagus behind the main altar, frantically banging on its lid and clawing at it, growling and screaming in fear as if crying out for help.
The heavy lid slid to one side as a clawed hand appeared from inside. A creature emerged from the sarcophagus and all the ghouls fell to the ground in fear. The smell of death and ancient rot filled the room. The Skaven began to recoil in amazement at this new monstrosity that, in some way, was similar to the ghouls around them, though it also seemed different. This creature was much larger and more powerful, although its body was deformed and hunched, with features similar to those of the bats that populated the tunnels. However, the glow of the beast's green eyes, endowed with some kind of diabolical intelligence, made the skaven feel that they were being looked at as if they were mere prey. Suddenly, while emitting a high-pitched scream, it attacked them with incredible speed. Two skaven were impaled by the monster's massive claws before they could even raise their weapons to defend themselves. The last Night Runner turned to flee, but the creature was too fast, snapping him in two with its powerful claws.
Kreesqueek was a good fighter and he wasn't going to turn his back on an opponent like that; so he kept an attentive guard ready for anything. The creature hunched down and, keeping an eye on the skaven assassin, began to drink the blood from the shattered bodies of the Night Runner. Kreesqueek understood in that moment what he was up against. "A Vampire!", thought the murderer. "That's why human-things don't come around here."
The monster suddenly jumped up and hovered from the chapel ceiling with its obscene head turned fully so as not to miss the killer skaven for an instant. Kreesqueek took a few cautious steps toward the entrance. Then he was livid: he could smell the ghouls circling behind him like predators with well coordinated movements. Kreesqueek realized that his only chance was to finish off the vampire, that was staring intently from the ceiling at the skaven's weapons: the green and blurry halo that surrounded the blades represented a threat to the undead creature. He remembered the bite of the one with similar weapons of old and did not want to repeat the experience. The ghouls were already closing in, so Kreesqueek made a move. It threw one of his stars in the direction of the vampire, but the creature deflected it with its claw and responded by hissing a series of arcane words as it pointed the tip of its finger in the direction of the assassin. At first, Kreesqueek didn't notice any change; but, in an instant, the weapons he wielded began to weigh more and more, and with each passing second, it became more difficult to hold them, as his arms began to fail him. When he tried to move, he felt his body respond lazily and slowly. In horror, the assassin watched the fur on his hands turn gray and begin to fall off. His was not a long lived race, and the necromantic powers that had enchanted him made each passing second feel like a month. His time had come. Kreesqueek panicked and turned to run but slumped to the floor.
As the ghouls feasted on the corpses of the Night Runner, the Strigoi Vampire snatched the assassin's blades from the pile of dust and bone that was all that remained of the skaven. For a moment, the creature admired the weapons, fascinated by the dazzling green energy radiating from their blades. Then he retired to a dark chamber where he dropped his swords on a pile of weapons, jewels, and other arcane objects that he had accumulated over the centuries of his existence. A strange smile crossed his wrinkled face. "A new gift for Rametep... Beautiful and dazzling," the monster whispered, rubbing his hands together as his maniacal laugh rang out in the dark.