Typhus chortled insanely as lightning arced within the warren of copper piping and arcane machinery that lay at the heart of the boiling peak complex. The warpstone obtained from his raids into the Kaalroen Empire would be used to create a new generation of warships the like of which had never been seen on Palurin or any other world. They would be the awe inspiring products of Skaven ingenuity and a monument to his own towering intellect. Typhus puffed up his chest, enjoying the feeling of unbridled power mixed with the fear and respect of his subordinates. So he was naturally rather annoyed when his most trusted warlord and second in command ruined the moment by thrusting his sword into the grey seers chest, piercing his heart and killing him instantly.
Picking himself up off the floor, Typhus let fly a stream of invective and warp spawned lightning, frying the treacherous warlord to a blackened crisp. He felt a warm fuzzy feeling as the astonished warlords eyes exploded from his head in sprays of gore. He withdrew the sword from his heart and tossed it casually into the raging fires of the volcano while his gaggle of lackies gaped in shock and bewilderment. Typhus smirked smugly. “My precious” he murmured softly to himself as he clasped his hands...
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