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A Night Goblin and a Clan-Rat are forced to work together when split from their armies under a dwarven stronghold.

In the caverns beneath the dwarven hold of Zhufbar, Clanrat Snif Blackclaw punches Night Goblin Griz Bent-toof square in the nose, sending the greenskin flying.

'Snif punch stupid green face again yes-yes?' shouted the Ratman in triumph.

The Gobbo got straight back up and punched the Skaven in the snout, flinging Snif backwards.

They had been back and forth like this for almost an hour. Snif gets to his feet once more and they continue circling each other with their fists raised like old pitfighters.

Due to neither party knowing the other's language, they both assume their expert knowledge of the human dialect would communicate their thoughts both effectively and with a minimal amount of explanation...

'Stupid rat-face smell like me bumhole!' said the goblin.

Griz points at his backside in case the Skaven didn't understand his Reikspiel.


He points his other hand at Snif, to clarify who the insult was in fact aimed at.


Snif shakes his head. 'Fatty green pig-pig' said the Skaven, blowing out its cheeks and holding his claws out, faking a invisible giant belly.

Griz tried to hide the fact that the insult was actually quite upsetting. He had been eating a lot of mushrooms recently.

Snif basked for a moment in his poetic use of language. He really did have a way with words that lesser Skaven struggled to attain.

'Big hairy squirrel smell like bumhole, wiv a face like a bumhole'. shouted Griz.

Griz nodded with satisfaction at his well thought out retort. That should put an end to this debate, surely a clear victory in the battle of minds.

Snif of course knew this was utter nonsense. The breeders back home in Skavenblight often complimented his interesting musk and exotic tooth arrangement.

Neither would like to admit they were getting pretty tired at this point. The skirmish between Snif's Clan and Griz's warband in the dark tunnels was exhausting enough and since they both got split from their comrades in the dark, they have been here at each others throat.

Luckily (or unluckily depending on how you look at it), both had lost their weapons in the fighting. So punches and kicks were as lethal as this confrontation got.

They stopped circling for a second, both hearing a noise to their right.

They lower their raised dukes when they realise they can hear Dwarven voices coming around the corner along with lantern light.


Looking around, Snif and Griz see there were two other passageways to escape into the safety of the darkness of the mountain.

The two of them run without hesitation.

To their dismay, each had chosen the same tunnel and they were running side by side in the same direction.

'Stupid rat-face bum-shit! Go 'uva way!' shouted Griz over his panicked breaths.

'This Snifs hole! Stupid gob-gob go different! Now bye-byes!'

The Skaven, clearly quicker than the short greenskin, started to pull away in front.

However, in what he thought was a moment of genius and quick thinking, Griz kicks the Skaven's legs from under it, making Snif collapse and skid along the ground in a heap.

The night goblin jumps over him and continues into the dark.

'Ha! Griz super fast smart gobbo! Squirrel dead meat!'.

Snif looks back and sees the light behind them getting closer, almost coming around the corner of the tunnel entrance.

He can make out words of some of the Dwarfs now. He definitely recognised two words in the guttural language of the stunties. Smell. Skaven.

He speeds off after the goblin.

Griz, with a huge toothy grin, starts to slow. Knowing he is winning, he takes a moment to look over his shoulder to observe the plight of the rat-man. 'Wait til I tell the lads about this' he thought to himself as he turned...

His thought process instantly stopped at the point as, to his dismay, two skaven feet were flying in the direction of his face.

Snif dropkicks the night goblin in the forehead.

Griz hits the ground hard as he hears the chittering skaven running past him.

'Me Snif! Victorious over pudgy gobbo!

The indignity and part-truth of the hurtful fat joke was put to the back of his head as Griz scrambled back up and started running again. Time to burn off some of the more oily mushrooms.

They sped along for a few more moments until they both skid to a halt at the t-junction at the end of the tunnel. They both go to turn right but stop when they realise the other is also going that way.

'You go that way, obese green thing!' Said Snif pointing down the left hand tunnel.

'Bog off squirrel! You take thatta way! This Griz' s tunnel! '

They both go to punch the other but when they swing, they accidentally punch each others incoming fists instead, making them both yelp in pain, clutching their wounded hands.

The dozen dwarfs, now in the tunnel around 50 feet away, see and hear them. The stunted warriors start running towards them, shouting in their deep-voiced language and raising their axes over their heads in fury.

Both Griz and Snif understand enough of the dialect to know that these shouts were not requests for hugs and companionship.

They start running.

Again in the same direction.

'Stupid fat gobbo.' said Snif when he realises that fact.

'Griz not fat! Griz muscly specimen!'

They round another corner and speed into a large cavernous room carved in the stone. Some sort of dwarven hall used as a warehouse, full of wooden boxes and barrels.

Looking around, they see there is no exit but the way they came.

The both start to panic. The sounds coming down the hallway are getting louder.

Snif spots something.

In the corner is a small hole on the ground with a pungent stench coming from it. Clearly a dwarven toilet.

The clan rat points at it with hope in his pink eyes.

The greenskin looks back at Snif like the Skaven as if he just asked him for a big sloppy kiss.

'Nope.' says Griz shaking his head at the horrendous thought.

'Yes-yes!' shouts Snif, starting to become manic as the lights of the Dwarfs gets closer.

'Errrrr.....nope. ' replies the goblin, straight faced.

'Stupid greenface find other escape?'

Griz looks around for a moment for any other tunnel, door or opening but finding none. When he turns back around, Snif has already jumped down the toilet, his long pink tail dropping down within.

'Stupid bog poop creature!' shouts Griz after him.

He runs up to the dark hole. The smell within is mind numbing, making Griz wince.

'This a holiday for stupid Skaven!'

Finally the dwarfs scramble into the room, their lanterns engulfing Griz and the entire room in bright light. They charge at him with their gleaming axes.

No choice.

'See ya in the futcha!'

Griz pinches his nose and jumps in. The hole is just big enough to fit his small frame but too small for the fat dwarfs to follow. If they even wanted to!

The goblin found himself screaming as he slid down a long slimy stone chute that seemed to go on forever.

His scream ends when when he shoots out of the chute, falls about twenty feet into the smelliest pool of excrement Griz has ever encountered. Which has been a few.

He also remembers he cant swim - even in poo-free water. So this isn't ideal.

As he starts to sink, thinking 'well dis a great way to go!', a hairy claw grabs him by the wrist and pulls him out of the bog.

He lands flat on his face on the stone at the feet of Snif Blackclaw, equally as covered in wet dwarf dung as the Goblin. He is stood on the edge of the dwarf-built sewer reservoir in a huge dark cavern.

The greenskin, desperately fighting for breath, looks confused.

'So you in love wiv Griz stupid squirrel?'

Snif hits him over the head with the bottom of his fist and points in the distance. An exit tunnel. Three dwarfs stand under it. Sewer workers.

'Help bash stunties. Yes-yes?'

Griz realises the big squirrel didnt care about the goblin at all, he just wanted strength in numbers to get out of this place. Not so stupid after all he thought.

The goblin then vomited a decent sized gollop of dwarf shit on Snif's feet.

'Stupid fat Gob-gob. Can't stop eating'

'EATING?' shouted Griz, making the distant dwarf turn and shine their lanterns in their direction.

Snif and Griz hide in the stone creases of the wall, keeping in shadow avoiding the searching beam of light.

Snif starts to think of a plan and points at the water.


'WHAT?' said Griz.

'In!' ordered Snif.

'You want nuva punch in snout?'

Snif points at the the pool of dung, then along the surface to the dwarfs.

'Go in. Stay under. Sneaky swim up. Bash!'

'Griz cant swim!' replied Griz, panic in his face. Don't make me do this.

Snif sighed at the pathetic nature of the greenskins. Unlike the mighty nations of the Horned Rat.

'Skaven do everything.'


Gustav Ragursson could swear he heard something. He searches with the light of his lantern to find the source of the noise.

The only noise usuly heard in the silence of this place was the toilet contents coming out the chutes above and falling in the water.

This was different. He was sure it was a voice.

His two comrades Olaf and Lothar searched too.

When Gustav turned back to the reservoir, he noticed some bubbles in the murky water behind Olaf.

He realised what it actually was far too late.

A filth-covered Skaven sprung out of the water, spraying disgusting brown sludge all over them, making them cover there eyes for a moment.

Which was a mistake.

That second bought the disgusting creature an extra moment to bash Olaf over the head with a rock, making the dwarven engineer hit the ground hard. Unconscious.

But the distraction was then over, the two remaining dwarfs charged the rat-thing.

To their surprise, the Skaven held its ground, brandishing the rock in its claw ready to protect itself.

They would make quick work of this creature.

But before they reached it, Gustav heard the tapping of small bare feet running behind him.


Gutav and Olaf turned to see a little night goblin charging from the shadows behind them.

This other distraction bought the Skaven time to jump forward and bite Lothar in the neck before pulling the bleeding dwarf to the ground.

Gustav went to swing his short axe at the goblin but the thing throws some form of missile at the dwarf.

It was a thick dollop of wet dwarf dung.

It hits the Gustav in the eyes, blinding him for a moment until the goblin was on him.

The greenskin, also holding a rock, started to bash the dwarf's skull in.

Dying, the last thing Gustav ever saw was a yellow grin of a slightly overweight night goblin looking down at him.


Snif kicked the dead dwarf off him and looked up at the goblin, now stood over the dead dwarf it had just killed due to Snif's genius plan.

Griz starts flexing his muscles in several poses.


Snif and Griz both pick up a dwarven weapon each and make for the exit.

Going through, they realise the tunnel splits in two and they finally realise they are now going in different directions to make it home.

They give a quick glance to each other and jog off in opposite tunnels.

After a few steps the Goblin and Skaven both stop and look back at each other before going their separate ways.

This would be the moment that two enemy warriors lock eyes in a moment of reflection and through the strife of battle at each others side, they would finally show the respect each deserved. A nod would be enough. A memory they would have forever, a brotherhood forged in fire.

But instead, Snif blows out his cheeks and stomach. Holding his arms out to mime a fat belly.

Griz points at his backside.


He points his other hand at Snif, who is still doing the fat goblin impression.



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