As the runes were activated, underground explosions and flames erupted, shaking the tight front the Skaven warlords had managed to maintain.
The strong black-haired rats were shaken and staggered. The dwarves under Snorri seized this opportunity to divide and surround them and then slashed and killed them.
Without the extra courage brought by "the overwhelming number of rats", their resistance became powerless.
"Stay alive!" Snorri shouted. Seeing that his subordinates who had a deep hatred for Skaven were cutting with more and more enthusiasm, he became a little anxious.
"okay!"
Soon, two Storm Rats were brought in front of Snorri. One had his legs broken by a war hammer, the other had an arm cut off, and two war axes crossed his neck. .
"Tell me honestly, which clan are you from? Who is the boss? If you tell me clearly, I will reward you!" Snorri began to force a confession on the spot.
"The Horned Rat walks among us! Wait until, wait until the Rat God comes to the world, beards and beard things will die, die!" Before Snorri could finish speaking, the rat whose legs were broken called out. stand up.
"Hey! You little mouse is so tough! Johnson, give it some color, see, see!" Snorri imitated the tone of the rat man and ordered to the captain of his anvil guard.
In the fearful eyes of the two Storm Rats, a malicious smile appeared under Johnson Strongshield's gray beard. He took out a small bottle from his armor, put it under his nose and took a sniff.
"Hey! Master, I have nine ways to make him talk, nine ways!" Johnson muttered as he approached the mouse.
"Come on little guy, this is good stuff from the southwest of the Cathay Empire. It's red. I chopped it up, boiled it in dwarf spirits, and finally cooled it down and fished out the residue to make it!"
Johnson-Jiandun rambled on that in many cases, psychological pressure in torture may be more effective than physical torture.
"This thing, hey, let's call it chili wine, after one sip, even in the ice and snow storm of Karak Flagg in the northernmost part of the World's Edge Mountains, you will feel like your chest is about to spit fire."
Snorri knew that it was Desolation Castle, the northernmost fortress of the Kingdom of Mountains. It was close to the Chaos Wasteland and was the bridgehead against the southward movement of Chaos. During the Great Holy War, she once fell to the previous Eternal Chosen One, the Barbarian Anointed One. Hands of Isava-Kul.
But after King Oryxon and Magnus the Pious defeated the Chaos invasion, she was once again rebuilt with the help of the Butcher King Agrim-Ironfist.
"It can even be used externally to treat arthritis and rheumatism. Since the restoration of contact with the compatriots in Dulong City, it has become the flagship product of my clan!" Johnson obviously likes the feeling of being noticed by everyone. He even Start promoting your own products.
"Come on, go to the blasphemous realm of your evil god, and don't forget to share this unforgettable experience with your kind!" The mouse was frightened by the vial in front of him, but Snorri and all the dwarves were not. Be prepared to give it a chance to beg for mercy. Generally, only bloody information is trustworthy.
"Good guy!" Snorri praised in his heart when he saw Johnson pouring the secret chili wine directly from the rat man's nostrils. At first, he thought pouring it into his mouth was interesting enough. It seemed that the Anvil Captain had no intention of getting information from this rat.
As expected by Snorri, the sturdy black-haired mouse suddenly began to twitch and twitch. It tried to struggle to escape, but it was obvious that its broken legs did not allow it to do so.
As the escape turned into a painful writhing, the mouse was bleeding from all its orifices and could no longer utter complete words. It could only utter vague wails of "squeak!" and "ouch!"
On the one hand, the reason why chili wine has such a good effect is because the rat people have lived underground for a long time, and their eyesight has been reduced in the dark environment, and their developed sense of smell has partially replaced the role of vision.
Their noses are densely covered with blood vessels and nerves, so they are very afraid of external stimulation. The smell of incense, mint, etc. will make them feel uncomfortable, not to mention pouring chili wine directly.
The powerful power of dwarf spirits is also part of the reason. The content of this stuff is so high that it can be ignited directly as fuel. Putting it into the enemy's water source to make them drunk and unable to exert their full combat effectiveness is also one of the reserved tactics of the dwarf rangers.
Such a violent thing stimulated the rat-man so much that the storm rat died painfully after a minute or two, perhaps due to suffocation.
"Wandering with the Beard, no, Uncle Beard, Uncle! I tell you all!" Witnessing the tragic situation of the same kind with his own eyes completely destroyed the mentality of the other Storm Rat. As soon as Snorri looked towards it, it automatically screamed before he could speak. .
"We are, uh, strictly speaking not a clan, a clan. We obey the orders of the Gray Seer Cordlu-Sharp Claw! He got the order from the High Priest of Gray Claw and hired and integrated a team!" The rat man simply said The lord's information was reported neatly.
"Grey Seer?" Snorri said to himself, thinking of those gray-haired, horned rat casters.
"What type is it? Destruction or plague?" Snorri asked his second question, which involved whether he should prepare an antidote and a gas mask.
"No, I don't know! Please, don't feed me that!" Unable to give Snorri a satisfactory answer, the Storm Rat struggled to kneel on the ground and bowed with his only remaining arm.
"What other troops have been hired?" Snorri touched his beard and looked at the rat's overreaction. He suddenly felt like a bad guy.
"I know about the Rotten Clan and the Essin Clan, and also us, a wandering warlord clan." The Ratman's bamboo tube told everything it knew.
After asking a few more questions and squeezing all its value out of it, Snorri made a simple gesture, and the anvil guard behind it simply chopped off the guy's rat head with a meteorite battle axe.
Snorri has no idea of cultivating the power of the rat people. These filthy rats have no loyalty at all. Even the most powerful of the Chaos minor gods, the Horned Rat, lacked true loyalty. Snorri didn't think he could conquer them with his tyrannical aura.
"Grey Prophet, these guys are really rich!" Snorri said to himself. Two of the four great clans of the rat people were present, except for the Plague clan, which the Gray Prophets could not deal with.
Although the enemies may be powerful, Snorri decides to fight them. On the one hand, he has some control over the course of history and knows that this group of rats will not become a phenomenon. On the other hand, he also has reasons for having to fight.
Thanks to book friend 20170613164308031, I am not issuing an electronic fat sheep monthly ticket
