Thanquol's Doom (Thanquol and Boneripper Book 3) by C L Werner

Author:C L Werner [Werner, C L]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2011-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter XI

Klarak Bronzehammer leaned against the table, his intense stare boring into the faces of the gathered generals and leaders of Karak Angkul. For once, even Guildmaster Thori kept silent, reading from the frightened pallor of Klarak’s face that he was about to relate something of dire import. Even the engineer’s worst detractors acknowledged that he was no coward.

‘I first tangled with Ikit Claw when he raided Kraka Drak and tried to take many of the hold’s engineers away as slaves,’ Klarak began. ‘Since then our paths have crossed several times. The last was in the dragon caves beneath Karak Azul. That time, he was trying to recreate an ancient ratkin weapon of vast destructive power, something he called the Doomsphere.’

‘Typically grandiose ratkin name,’ said Guildmaster Thori. ‘Every piece of trash they knock together the vermin call the Big Sharp Stick of Exploding Death or the Backscratcher of Infinite Destruction.’

‘Except this time, the weapon could really do what the ratkin expected it to do,’ Klarak said. ‘I saw the thing with my own eyes, a great orb of steel the size of a steamship and packed with raw wyrdstone.’

The description brought a few gasps from Runelord Morag and the other runesmiths. More than any of the other dwarfs present, they understood the connection between warpstone and dark magic. They had some inkling of the destructive potential for a device such as the one Klarak described.

‘What did the ratkin expect to use this weapon for?’ King Logan asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

‘Destroy every dwarfhold in the Worlds Edge,’ Klarak told him. ‘Ikit Claw constructed his wyrdstone bomb over the fault running beneath Karak Azul. If he’d been able to unleash the power of his weapon, he could have precipitated an earthquake the likes of which no dwarf has seen since the Time of Woes.’

Cries of alarm spread through the war-room, the magnitude of what Klarak described shaking many of the assembled dwarfs to the very core.

‘How did you stop him?’ asked Thane Erkii.

Klarak’s expression became even more dour, a haunted quality entering his eyes. ‘I’m not sure that I did,’ he confessed. ‘Myself and my companions fought our way through Ikit’s minions, slaying scores of the ratkin. The Claw saw us coming and in his craven wickedness, he activated the Doomsphere moments before we could reach it. The huge machine shuddered into hideous life, the stink of skaven engines venting from its exhausts in a caustic cloud of green gas. If not for the protective gear I’d ordered my companions to bring along, all of us would have met our ancestors in that moment. I saw ratkin without protection doubled-over beside the weapon, coughing out pieces of their own lungs as the gas scorched their innards.

‘A rearguard of ratkin continued to protect the Doomsphere, each wearing a heavy respirator. While my comrades fought these vermin, I charged through their ranks and assaulted the hell-machine itself. Employing a steam hammer, I tried to smash my way through the steel shell to get at whatever mechanisms were inside.

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