Disclaimer: The entire world and the universe (actually a multiverse, but these are splitting hairs) that I use belong to the Games Workshop, as well as the peoples and everything else, except for the characters themselves.

Warning: It's a pretty brutal story, so if you have something against bloodshed, murder, slaughter, carnage and other funny things, you shouldn't read this story.

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Battle of three peoples over a book

The armies are approaching

Skanig's view of things:
Skanig dragged himself on, always careful not to attract too much attention. He was neither particularly strong nor particularly weak, at least for the circumstances of his unit. His fur wasn't the blackest or the lightest, and his equipment wasn't as well cared for as others' but not as crusted with dirt as others.
Just total average, as I said for the proportions of its unity.
So that meant: He was one of the best-equipped warriors in the army, his fur was much darker than practically everyone else and he was able to defeat most of the other rats here without any problems.Just the typical member of an elite unit.
Skanig was a storm rat and he had earned it hard. He had always had dark fur and his tail was longer than that of his fellow rats.
And he was smart. As a child, he pushed his eldest brother into a shaft and made it look like an accident. His father secretly praised him for this trick. Immediately afterwards, Skanig poisoned his food and made sure that a wild rat owl entered his family's cave. Thus, at the age of three, he had eliminated his entire family and any possible competition from this direction.
He struggled to the top and had quickly reached the rank of Clan Rat Assault Leader. He murdered his superior and took his place by threatening or bribing all the people who had to vote and then having them killed after the election.
And then he was nominated for a place in the storm rat contingent of his clan, of course after some threats and bribes.Immediately after his nomination, he eliminated almost all of his competitors and he intimidated the rest of them enough to let him step forward.
And so he came to the storm rats, the best skaven warriors there were, maybe apart from the plague throwers of Klan Perstilenz.
"Skanig, run-run faster," squeaked another storm rat.
"Shut up," he growled back. Under no circumstances did he want to attract attention, as this would have made other, stronger competitors aware of him and as a newcomer he wanted to avoid that at all possible.
Skanig dragged himself on, apparently totally exhausted like all the other Skaven around him, but actually still in top shape.
The whole tunnel was filled with the quiking of the Skaven army, interrupted by the roar of the huge rat ogres. Dirt-encrusted weapons were carried by simple clan rats, members of the Skryre clan pushed their mysterious weapons in front of them, a contingent of Plague Monks, led by a preaching epidemic priest, ran alongside the army and they mumbled excerpts from the mighty Liber Bubonicus.Members of all major clans were in this army to support the soldiers of the warrior clan Dosch, of course only for astronomical prices.
Skanig, however, was one of the best warriors in the army, the most disciplined and toughest of all Skaven: storm rats, heavily armored and armed with dangerous halberds.
For this reason the gray prophet Hinck had declared her to be his bodyguard. That suited Skanig pretty well, so she would most likely be able to stay out of the roughest turmoil and still get all the praise.
"Do you know where are we running-running?" Another Skaven asked him.
Skanig shook his head. He hadn't the faintest idea, but they seemed to be moving south. Or maybe to the west, he wasn't sure. But if he had to guess he would have guessed one of these directions.
But he became curious, he too wanted to know where they were going.So he slowly let himself fall back a little, further and further, until he was almost on a level with the gray prophet. So he walked next to his general for a few hours until he finally mumbled something to himself.
Skanig knew something about an island and people, but that was about it. He couldn't do much with that, but at least he knew that the directions he had typed were probably correct.
So he kept running for hours and eventually even he got exhausted.
The gray prophet meanwhile only huffed and ordered a camp to be set up so that he could rest.
Unlike almost everyone else, Skanig did not take off his armor, he was too cautious for it. If they were all comrades, then maybe he would have, but he was among Skaven.
He quickly fell into an unresting sleep and got up again at some point, terms like day and night are nonsense underground because there is no sun. Even something like seasons would be inappropriate there, there was no time calculation, what should a unit of time have been measured for and against?It would have made no sense and so there was and is only one single, infinite, dark period of time in the realm of the Skaven.
Skanig shook himself and got ready to march because the gray prophet was already on his feet.
A few minutes later, the entire Skaven army rolled forward, seeming unstoppable and powerful to Skanig. Thousands upon thousands of swarming rats, powerful war machines, destructive magic and all of that in unbelievable numbers. It was impossible for him to see all the soldiers, but one thing he knew for sure: Everything that came in their way would be crushed.
That's what he thought before the battle started.

Khalek's view of things:
Waves made the huge ship dance up and down, a storm had come over the black ark and now made the slaves below deck tremble. But their tormentors only laughed at their fear, because what could such a small storm do to their ship?
However, ship was no longer the correct name, floating fortress would have been more accurate.Only shortly before had they proven again that they are rightly feared everywhere. They had attacked a temple of the slow, reptilian guards of the jungle in the jungle of Lustrias and slaughtered everything. Nothing escaped her anger. Or so they thought, but this negligence was to take bitter revenge.
But the dark elves didn't know that, they were sure to have killed everything down to the last skink.
Khalek ran down a corridor in full armor, but only the clacking of his boots could be heard when they hit the ground. His mail shirt was so perfectly made that it didn't make the slightest noise, and he had his weapons on perfectly so that they wouldn't hit his armor. His sea dragon cloak fluttered a little and brushed the wall lightly
He was a little worried, after all, the captain had called him over. Swallowing hard, he knocked on the door and was called in."You called me Lord?" He asked obsequiously.
"Yes, I did. Come here," said Captain Yaolth and waved him over to a table. There were a lot of maps on the table, mostly nautical charts but also some of Naggaroth, Ulthuan and one of an island that Khalek couldn't place.
The captain pushed aside all but this one and a nautical chart.
“Look at these cards on Khalek.” He waved his hand over these two sheets of paper.
“We are here.” He pointed a small dagger that he suddenly had in hand at the nautical chart. It pointed exactly to a small point a little northeast of Lustria, below Ulthuan. “Our current target is here.” He led the dagger further east and then a tiny tick north and finally left it on a tiny island.
"Sir, excuse me, but what are we supposed to do there?" Khalek ventured to ask.
"I accept the apology. We're looking for something there." Captain Yaolth grinned sadistically."We are supposed to get an artifact from there on behalf of the temple. A book as far as I know, but never trust the temple." He turned around and took a few steps restlessly around. "As far as I know there are only a few human settlements on the island, child's play."
Khalek started to grin. “So even more slaves.” A low laugh came out of his mouth, but it disappeared again when Captain Yaolth glared at him.
"Yes, more slaves, but just watch out. We have to be careful, because there is a messenger from the temple on board." His smile, which he had been displaying all along, disappeared. "We have an assassin on board."
Khalek swallowed hard. "To take care of us, I suppose."
The captain nodded. “Officially to support us, but the real reason is to put us under pressure.” He dismissed Khalek with a wave of his hand and a last sentence. "As soon as we are on the island you will be assigned a troop from me and search the western part."Khalek bowed and disappeared from the cabin.
He did it. Inwardly he cheered, outwardly he didn’t make a mine. He rose in the herachia of the fleet. At this point, after a hundred years of service, he was already an influential officer on a black ark and commanded his own small army. If he continued like this, he would be a captain in another hundred years and maybe an admiral someday. But there was still a long way to go. And he didn't know he would never leave it.

Dorck's view of things:
A loud scream pierced the night sky, followed by many more. It was a cry of pain and horror, uttered by people. Men, women and children at the same time, they all fled or were slaughtered without mercy. Screams of joy and brutal laughter mingled with the shouts of the people, uttered by the attackers in the small village.
A large ax cut through a man's body and swung by a large brutal orc.Drock Koppnuss enjoyed the carnage. "It's so good to sain an orc!" He yelled and all the other orcs began to yell loudly. He ran to the right where he had spotted a woman who ran away in panic. With a sneering grin on his face, he lowered his ax again. The last thing the woman uttered was a horrified scream. The brutal blade tore rather than cut through the body. Blood and intestines splashed on the floor.