The Warlock Engineer sniggered to himself. "The skinny black elf things are going to be killed, one way or another..." Gleefully he padded his pocket and the item within. It was the shrunken head of a witch elf hag. A potent talisman it would bring a powerful curse against the Elven magic users. Skeerkit bared his fanges at the Dark Elven line and signaled the charge as over ten paws of warriors advanced toward the elven line. The rest was a blur of fangs, fur and tattered robes. At the end Skeerkit watched as the Plague monks feasted on charred Witch Elves and corpses of Rat Ogres. The Warpfire Thrower team was checking it's fuel gages before turning its nozzel on the local buildings once more. Verminkin everywhere on the battlefield were sating teh black hunger on corpses of Elves and skaven, or slaves if they got too close. It had been a good day, he thought, as he absently cooked the head of the Elven Assassin... Dave - May 14, 2001