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Da 'Ole Of Death Chapta 15 | |
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Chapta 15 |
The orks had made a pile of everything they had found that they thought could be useful and Hazug was going through it. A lot of what they had collected was obviously useless, ammunition clips without any rounds left in them, punctured fuel and water drums and random pieces of metal that had been picked up for some reason that escaped Hazug entirely. But through all of this there were some useful items. There was still some ammunition left that would fit their weapons, and the Death Skulls had left a large amount of provisions behind that had been untouched by the fighting. The prize find was an intact flamethrower that, when tested, proved to be in good working order, Gobnok had found this so Hazug decided to let him keep it, for the time being at least. Water would not be an issue, Sophie was busy filling all of their canteens and water skins from the oasis, protected by a pair of orks just in case there was anything nasty lurking there. The issue of fuel had concerned Hazug however, the truck’s tank was less than half full and he had only enough to refill once fully. Fortunately not all of the Death Skulls’ stockpile had been destroyed, and he was now confident that they possessed an adequate amount to reach their destination with plenty to spare, as well as enough to supply the flamethrower. Engrossed as he was with the pile of salvage, Hazug still noticed the approach of one the gretchin survivors from behind him. “Come see lord,” the creature said when Hazug spun round to face him, “I finished a weldin’ ya wanted.” “So its fixed den?” Hazug asked as he inspected the piece of metal welded across the crack in his truck. “Yes lord,” the gretchin said while his companion and Ratish approached pushing a replacement wheel, “da jobs a good ‘un.” “Hmm,” said Hazug, rubbing his chin, “okay den, I’ll trust ya. ‘Ow long to get da new wheel on?” “Not long, quick job lord.” “Good, because
we ‘ave to get out of ‘ere quick. So get da new wheel on and den we can be
off.” “Yeah, I’ll take ya. Bring ya tools in case anythin’ else needs fixin’ though. Den when we get to da city ya can find a new mekboy to work for. In da mean time ya got my guarantee about ya work.” “Guarantee lord?” “Yeah, I guarantee a lot of pain if it don’t do wot it should. Understand grot?” “Yes lord.” Then Hazug walked away while the gretchin fitted the new wheel. “Right lads,” he shouted, “we is off so gather ya stuff and get it loaded.” “D’ya really trust dese grot to fix dis anythin’ properly?” Drazzok asked Hazug as he climbed into the seat beside him as the loading of the truck was completed. “Well dey is comin’ with us, and I promised ‘em dat we’d give ‘em a good kickin’ if it don’t work like dey say it will,” Hazug replied, “and I is an ork dat keeps ‘is promises, dats wot is said about me.” “Is it?” Drazzok said, “Cos I ‘eard plenty of lads sayin’ stuff about ya, but never dat.” “When we get back, let me know who won’t ya?” and with that, Hazug started up the trucks engine and, slowly at first to test the gretchins’ repair work, he drove off into the desert towards the continent’s capital city, not knowing what may be waiting for them. Out in the desert the warband occasionally spotted more plumes of smoke that were too large to be from mere camp fires that were common to remote ork settlements, and when they passed close to any of these plumes they saw that the alien machines were continuing to attack ork settlements as well as groups of travellers in the desert. “Aint we goin’ to stop and take a look?” Ubgrub asked when they first drew near to the scene of one of the attacks, the ruins of a fortress that looked to have been built by the humans before the ork invasion. “We got
everythin’ we need lad,” Hazug said, “and stoppin’ to look around would
just waste time.” “Den dey is on dare own,” Hazug said. As Hazug had hoped, they reached the city before nightfall, and the two gretchin recovered from the Death Skulls camp were dropped off so that they could seek new masters. After that Hazug simply drove towards the largest and most heavily fortified building in the city since it was certain to be the residence of the local war boss. As he expected the building in question was well guarded. “We need to see da warboss,” Hazug yelled at the leader of the guards who came up to the truck when Hazug parked it outside the fortress. “And who is ya?” the guard leader asked as the warband dismounted from the truck. “I is Hazug Throatslitter of da Blood Axe clan, and dese are me lads.” “And I is Drazzok ‘Eadbanga of da Snakebite clan, I aint no Blood Axe,” Drazzok added not wishing to be taken for a member of Hazug’s clan. “Wot about dat?” the guard said pointing at Sophie. “My name’s Sophie,” Sophie said, but the guards ignored her. “Well,” said the guard leader, “wot’s it doin’ ‘ere.” “She works for me,” Hazug said. “Well if ya wants to take it to see da boss it’ll ‘ave to be on a lead,” the guard leader said. Hazug was tempted to just try barging past the guards, but the squad facing him was larger than his own warband and there was sure to be further units of guards nearby, plus whatever emplaced weapons were pointing at him. Reluctantly Hazug agreed to the guard’s conditions, he had to see the warboss and he didn’t want to let Sophie out of his sight in this strange city. So after tying a length of rope around Sophie’s waist to use as a leash Hazug and his warband was lead into the fortress home of the local warboss. The main chamber of warboss Golgoth Zhagrad was reminiscent of that belonging to warboss Kazkal Kromag, but because Golgoth was an Evil Sun rather than a Bad Moon the decoration was less lavish and had a much greater emphasis on the cult of speed, additionally given the lack of a local human population all of his serving staff were greenskins. A gretchin that had been sent running ahead by the guards had already informed the warboss of who they were, though Hazug had not yet given out any details of why he needed to speak with the warboss. As they entered the main chamber a guard announced them. “Drazzok ‘Eadbanga of the Snake Bite clan, Hazug Throatslitter of the Blood Axe clan and warband, plus er, a short git,” the guard shouted. “Hey,” Sophie protested. “Silence git!” the guard leader who had escorted the group here shouted and he raised his hand to strike Sophie, though he thought better of it when Hazug stepped in between them. “Just keep it quiet,” the guard leader told Hazug. “So,” warboss Zhagrad’s voice boomed out, “why is dare a bunch of Blood Axe git lovers and a weirdo standin’ in front of me?” “Boss Zhagrad,” Hazug began, “dis is about da kroozer wot crashed.” “Wot about it?” Zhagrad asked. “It was shot
down.” “Wot? ‘Ow can dare be somethin’ under da ground?” “I don’t know exactly wot it is but its dare. I saw a whole city dat looked like it ‘ad been dare since before da gits was in charge ‘ere.” “Show ‘im da skull,” Drazzok said to Hazug, prodding him. “Wot’s dis about a skull?” boss Zhagrad said. “Dare’s a skull in me trukk,” Hazug said, “its made of some metal dat I aint seen before. I found at some git base. Dare was a git dare who said dat dey found on another planet and it led ‘em ‘ere to da city under da ground. Den a bunch of metal skeleton things came out and killed ‘em. Now it looks like da skeleton things is comin’ out again and ‘aving a go at us. We was at a Death Skull camp dat dey torched, and we passed wot looked like lots of other camps dat dey were attackin’.” “So wot? So a few camps get torched, I got loads of boys ‘ere, plus wagons and big gunz. If anyone reckons dey is ‘ard enough to ‘ave a go at me I’ll put ‘em straight.” “Dis lot is different, dey is dead ‘ard to kill. Even dem marines dat da humans ‘ave aint as ‘ard to kill as dese boys is.” Warboss Zhagrad leant back in his throne, and tapped his fingers on the helmet that had once belonged to one the Imperium’s elite Adeptus Astartes marines that he had personally killed that he kept beside his throne as a kill trophy. “Ya is talkin’ crap,” he said, “if dare is anythin’ out in da desert I can ‘andle it, now sod off before I kill da lot of ya.” The guards around the room shifted their stance as their warboss made the threat, adjusting the grip on their weapons so that they could bring them into action more readily. “Its da truth,” Hazug insisted, “ya need to get ya lads together and attack dare city before dey get ‘ere first.” “Da boss said to get out,” the leader of his guards said, “so ya can either sod off, or we can startin’ smackin’ ‘eads.” The sun was down when the warband was ejected from warboss Zhagrad’s fortress, and Hazug decided it would be good idea to find something to eat and drink. “About bleedin’ time too,” Drazzok commented. “So ya is back den,” Fegrid said when he saw Hazug entering his establishment, this with the warband, “and with mates too. Well I just about got room for ya so sit down and I’ll ‘ave da grots bring ya somethin’,” he said pointing to an empty table towards the rear of the room. “Water for da human, grot and weirdboy, beer for da rest of us.” The other orks present stared at Sophie as the group made its way to the vacant table, which made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Are they going to keep doing that?” she said, “I don’t like it.” “Wot, starin’ at ya?” Hazug said out loud, “Not if dey don’t want me choppa down dare throats dey aint,” and orks across the room all suddenly found something other than Sophie to look at. “So wot do we do now boss?” Roggot asked. “We go back and see warboss Kromag lad. If dis berk Zhagrad gets ‘is ‘ead kicked in by dem machine things den ‘e’s goin’ to ‘ave to do somethin’ about ‘em instead.” “If we sent dat message,” Nizz began, “den won’t ‘e be comin’ ‘ere anyway?” “Don’t be so daft lad, ‘e aint goin’ to come ‘ere unless ‘e ‘as to, and anyway it would takes ‘im ages to get enough lads together and move ‘em all ‘ere, so ‘e aint goin’ to ‘elpin’ us anytime soon. Ah ‘e’s da grub.” Five gretchin had appeared holding trays of food and drink. “Dat’s five teeth,” one of them said as they placed the meals on the table and Hazug paid them. “Tuck in lads,” he said, though Drazzok had begun to eat before his bowl was even on the table, snatching it away from the serving gretchin, “den we’ll find somewhere to stay for da night before we find us a boat to get us out of ‘ere. ‘Opefully dem skeleton lads won’t be ‘ere before den.” “Wot if dey is boss?” Nizz asked. “Den we’ll fight. We is orks, wot else would we do?” “Come quick master,” the gretchin said, “dey is ‘ere now.” “Dis better be bloody good grot,” the ork said as he followed his diminutive servant through the streets of the shantytown inhabited by the local gretchin. “It is master, it is. Look, dare dey are.” The gretchin pointed at a pair of similar creatures who were addressing a group of gretchin that had gathered around them. The ork noticed that the two gretchin talking were in possession of tools associated with mekboys and that they had a significant amount of blue in their clothing. “Dey used to work for Death Skulls,” the ork’s servant told him, “and dey just came ‘ere from da desert. Ya ‘ave to ‘ear wot dey ‘ave to say.” The ork pushed his way through to the front of the crowd and stared at the two gretchin at its heart. “Right den,” he said, “tell me wot all dis crap my grot is spoutin’ about metal lads in da desert is or I’ll thump ya real ‘ard,” and he waived his fist to emphasise his point. The two gretchin looked up at the large newcomer, and repeated the story they had been telling since Hazug dropped them off in the city.
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