Morskikt the Skaven and Sigmir the Imperial

Chapter 3 part 1

Heavy steps, floorboards creaking. This could mean only one thing. The moldy door opened slowly and the gentle giant stepped into the odd room. Sigmir was lying on the bed, on his belly, the Squire sitting on his little ottoman next to the door.

Morskikt put down a basket with herbs on the bedside drawer, and then he laid his heavy hand on Sigmirs head and ruffled his hair. Sigmir, who was still asleep, got woken up by the Skaven’s affection, jolted up and instantly sat upright on the bed.

Morskikt, being embarrassed to almost be caught by him showing softness and affection ripped his hand away in shock.

"Your herb-leaves, man-thing. The market was hell-bad. The medicine cost the gold-jingle of an entire division of men-things. It better be useful-good..."

After saying that while looking down, he walked to the other end of the room and put a new quill on the table.

"Also I got-get you this."

Morskikt ducked through the doorframe and picked something up that was on the outside of the room.

"For you."

Morskikt handed Sigmir the very blade that he yielded and gave to the Squire on the Battlefield. But it was sort of different... On closer inspection, the blade was finer, sharper and had something engraved in the hilt "Morskikt".

"I hope you don't mind-dislike the changes I made-did... I took the freedom to upgrade your filthy-dirty man-thing blade and made it... Better..."

Sigmir stared at the blade in disbelief. It was just a boring old sword... Why would anybody go out of his way to work on it? It's a standard issue soldier infantry sword.

"Why are you giving me this? I can just strike you down now."

"Your shackles-chains"

Morskikt retorted very dryly, without thinking about it any longer.

"I have brought-got you a new quill. Don't break this one... Please"

"Rat-ical!"

Yelled the young Squire out of nowhere, as a probable reaction to the new, rarely in Skaven cities seen Quill.

"What? I- I am thankful, Morskikt, but... You haven't answered my question! I can just..."

He pointed the blade at Morskikt, his Squire jumping up from his ottoman and unsheathing his broken straight sword and reluctantly pointing it at Sigmir.

"As told-said before... Your shackles. You're not shackled-chained."

Morskikt softly put his paw on the blade, making Sigmir point it down, alongside the Squire who acted accordingly.

"If you were, I would have kept-kept the blade outside. But obviously my Squire here trusts-believes you enough as to leave you unchained, even after-after you have changed your cloth-fabrics"

Morskikt put his other paw on the head of his loyal Squire and he let out a gleeful 'yip yip'

"Now man-thing, if I may ask you to lower your blade-sword and put it aside?"

There was a moment of silence, before Sigmir lowered his blade, got out of his stance and put the sword next to his bedside drawer, then sat back down on the bed.

"Good boy, Sigmir."

Morskikts deep voice rumbled through Sigmirs head and made its way into his bones, he was deeply shook by what he just heard and gasped a little. His heart rate increased. He put one hand on his bare chest and the other one on the blanket, clenching the soft fabric because of the shock.