Chapter 2 - Rebirth
A Skavenslave
Panicked steps and desperate claws tore through the tunnel further into the depths of the crackling Earth. The creature's scarred mangy fur brushed against the haphazard, winding tunnel as each vibration of the earth threatened to collapse. The dying squeals of its brethren had faded in the distance and the creature wouldn't be taking any more chances. It raised its long, pointed face, the spitting image of a rat, and blinked its beady black eyes. Yet, the dim, reflected light revealed the vague echoes of a man. It stood upright on two paws like some hideous parody of a man. Its washed brown fur was wasted by the ravages of enslavement and lashes.
The creature was one of millions, possibly billions. Its kind is a blight upon this world yet to be rectified by the righteous gods that rule over this land. In spite of its desperate struggle to survive, its life was destined to be utterly unremarkable. It would die horrifically for in the voracious, desperate fight for power in the Under-Empire, a sprawling network of tunnels and caverns. The Under-Empire was ruled under the terrible guidance of the children of the Great Horned Rat, Skaven.
The Skaven hurried onwards hugging the walls of the passageway. The familiar sense of whiskers dabbing the sides of the corridor calmed the creature. It wandered the tunnel on its frail legs until the familiar stench of breeding dens found its way up twitching nostrils. This quickened the pace and granted newfound life to legs ravished by malnutrition and abuse.
Another massive boom shook the frail underground walls. The ratman yelped as the soil and hardened stone began to crumble around him. Now on all fours, the brief visage of man devolved to vermin as the creature sprinted towards the broodmothers' nest with claw and paw. The world above once knew of the Skaven and recognized them properly as the blight upon the empire. None could walk freely through the night without the untold fear of the dreaded Skaven. Yet, with time and careful orchestration, the feared ratmen that ruled the under-empire had left the public consciousness. They were reduced to cartoonish villains that haunted children's stories. A forgotten memory that died generations prior.
A sudden quake sent a chunk of the ceiling crashing onto the Skaven, crunching its wiry tail beneath a mountain of limestone and rock. The Skaven let a scratchy wail bounce beyond across the walls of the passageway. Only the quiet rumbling of shifting rock responded to the panicked whimpers of the ratmen. The ratman let out a plea of mercy from the great horned rat, the vile deity of the Skaven, before taking a deep breath. The Skaven turned to its tail, encircled it with jagged fangs, and clamped down. The muted screams of the Skaven were drowned out by the heavy rumble of the rock above as the vermin tore at its tail until it completely severed. The Skaven fell forward, whimpering as blood-spattered about the dirt floor. Bits of soil drizzled onto the Skaven's face from the ceiling above.
One claw after another, the rat hobbled through the tunnel, pushed onwards by a dizzying mix of pain and fear. Soon, the rat rounded a corner and spotted the eerie green luster of warplanterns. He could smell the familiar refuse of the undercity's breeding den. The claustrophobic passage opened up into a widened chamber hollowed out by dwarf-things. That was several lifetimes ago when the warren underneath Nuln was originally established. Heavy pillars dotted the splotched marble floor that made up the circular center. Frayed bundles of hay and soil were scattered about, outlining the spots where broodmothers lived a large majority of their lives as breeders. The Skaven bore alcoves and burrows into the walls to create more space, transforming the proud dwarven chamber into an oblong parody of architecture.
"Take-move the broodmothers above, slave-trash,"
The command echoed throughout the cavern, above the chittering masses of rats below the fang leader perch near the entrance of the cavern. The airy, wiry voice sent the Skaven slaves in a scramble. Some tripped over the chains that bound them to nearby Skaven and their assignment broodmothers, letting them get trampled and dragged. The broodmothers continued their lackadaisical saunter towards the exit, unperturbed as they stepped over the still warm corpses. They spent the entirety of their lives under an intoxicating brew of narcotics that left them dull and easy to handle.
"Faster! Quick, Quick! Before tunnel collapse!"
The skavenslave winced, expecting a whip to tear open another gash on his flank as he reached the half-dozen ratmen attempting to goad the final broodmother to her feet. Putrid moans and gurgles escaped her motionless mouth. The group of Skaven pushed and heaved to no avail. The walls and roof of the cave were more likely to move than the broodmother.
"She not-not move. We should run-flee," cried one of the other skavenslaves. He took a few steps back before pulling the chains that bound him to the broodmother.
Another skaven pointed at the broodmothers distended stomach, "Look. Stomach move-moves. She will give-birth another litter soon."
Nearly on cue, the broodmother moaned again, bobbing her head side to side as if she could respond to the ratmen in her warpstone-induced haze. The unbound skavenslave moved to the rat mother's womb and held out his hand to receive the first spawn of the litter. The slave guided the cub into his paws, noting the odd rigidity to the newborn. He sniffed it. The cub was dead.
The Skaven slave had little time to ponder and gnaw on the lifeless stillborn. Two more cubs were on the way and the dwarven columns of the cavern threatened to collapse under the weight of the earth. Both were black rats, destined to become mighty warriors if they made it to adulthood. They looked back at the slave with hazy, unmoving eyes. Two more dead cubs. This time, the slave tore a chunk out of one of them with his hungry fangs. If he was going to risk a life, a full stomach would make it a bit easier.
The earth shook again, cracking the column in the middle of the cavern. Rock and granite fell from the ceiling, crushing another broodmother along with the dozen skavenslaves chained to it. The air was filled with the musk of fear, no doubt coming from the multitude of slaves still trying to escape the broodmother den.
Looking at the wreckage, the skavenslave drove his hand into the broodmothers womb to speed up the process. The ratmother made a peculiar noise as a blind paw dug around in search of any remaining cubs. The creature felt his fingers encircled around something, so he yanked backward. This one was alive, wriggling around in the Skaven's fingers like a tiny fat worm. It was white, with little knobs protruding from its head. This rat was marked by the great horned rat and would be destined to become an emissary of the god. Perhaps a Grey seer would reward him if he presented a potential initiate to him. No more beatings. Maybe even a modicum of status within the clan. The skavenslave drove his hand into the broodmothers womb, dropping the two lifeless newborns on the ground as he cradled the white Skaven near his chest. There could be more cubs inside.
As the slave scratched the inside of the womb, the cracks in a nearby column began to rapidly spiral towards the ground. The roof above began to sway and shake, letting loose rocks and debris onto the ratmen surrounding the broodmother. The slaves panicked, desperately pulling on their chains as the broodmother lay motionless in its cesspool on the ground. A rock dropped from the ceiling, shattering the skull of one of the Skaven.
The skavenslave clutched the newborn tighter and dug around with heightened urgency. Just as the slave was about to give up, he felt another cub in the furthest reaches of the womb. The slave's bony fingers ran over two small horns on the cub. Another rat marked by their Horned god. He ripped the newborn from the broodmother and sprinted towards the exit.
Pillars near the rear end of the cavern crumbled, letting a wave of debris crash down onto the unlucky Skaven still chained to the broodmother. The Skaven turned ahead, attempting to ignore the fear of being buried alive, only to see other columns buckling under their weight. The Skaven ran as fast as he could on two legs with the newborn cubs in tow. He gripped them tightly within his paws, knowing that he could ride their coattails to a better life.
Finally, the earth had its way. Dirt and gravel tumbled into the cavern like a tidal wave barreling through a narrow canal. A few unlucky ratmen were swallowed up by the earth, dragged underneath by their chains. The weight of the rocks roared reverberated through the skavenslaves chest, chittering his teeth for him and rocking him to his core.
The Skaven slave tumbled onto his side, cradling the newborns, as he just barely escaped the cavern. He looked up and saw he had escaped into one of the greater Skaven burrows. Thousands of beady eyes stared at the broodmother and slaves as they flowed into the grand atrium of Nuln's undercity. Lifetimes ago, the atrium was a dwarven plaza, filled with thousands of city-goers. The Skaven had transformed it into a claustrophobic hodgepodge of shabby wooden structures and masses of rat-men flowing between them. A massive metal bell, enshrined with sacred Skaven runes stood atop a fountain of still, brown water.
The Skaven had made it out just before the 13th ring of the bell. This was considered good fortune by skaven-kind. Relieved, the skaven walked into the masses of ratmen, holding the young cubs close to its chest. Smelling the reassuring scents of other skaven almost put the slave at ease, but he knew that assassins and thieves hid in the crowd. Once hidden beneath the protective shadow of the plaza bell, the slave let out a breath of relief and took a glance at the precious newborns he had so valiantly saved.
An errant claw had dug into one of the cub's eyes, ripping the fragile eyeball within its orbit. Blood began to drizzle from the socket as he released the pressure from his clawed finger. He let a panicked squeak out before frantically trying to rub the eye. It was too late. Any skaven could see the plain disfigurement. The slave looked around, finding some solace that he was surrounded by hordes of skaven in the plaza. No one would find this error until he had safely pawned it on another slave.
"Cubs? Show me-me what you have slave-meat," said an authoritative voice walking from the steps leading to the bell. The skavenslave slowly turned around, attempting to hide the injury. A grey claw clasped the slave's hand, revealing two young skaven wailing, yelping, and seeing the world with their combined 3 eyes.
The slave averted his eyes and dropped to his knees, "Oh great-fearsome lord Grey Seer Vellux, I… found these cubs on the ground when I escaped the cave-in,"
Grey Seer Vellux gripped one hand around the skavenslave's throat, catching the cubs in his other. The skaven slave panicked eyes met the glowing green eyes of the grey seer. His horns curved over each other, forming an unholy X atop Vellux's demonic, snarling face. The skavenslave felt his strength sapping limb from limb. His arms and legs slowly ended their vain attempts at releasing the vice-like grip around his neck.
"Maggot-trash, always ruining everything. These cubs are marked by the Great Horned Rat. This eyeball, that you rip-tear, is marked by the Great Horned Rat," Grey Seer Vellux barked. Bits of spit speckled the cheeks of the skavenslave, "Undercity Nuln needs these cubs to be my apprentices. They will serve me-me when I destroy the man-things vile city. Then, the council will give the city to the great Grey Seer Vellux"
The skavenslave was already limp in Grey Seer Vellux's grip. Not even aware that the slave was dead, the Grey Seer's rage had to be taken out on someone. Evil energy crackled through the air and circled about a nearby skavenslave's body. It coalesced into an electric ring that shot through the slave, cooking its innards. Vellux gave both the slaves one last look of disgust as he left them on the ground. A few Skaven, marred with hunger and anticipation of a meal, dragged the corpses away.
The Grey Seer walked around the plaza, still grumbling with rage as he ignored the hungry cries of the newborn skaven. He paid no mind to the piles of rubble left over from the recent seismic activity. He had properly prepared his undercity for the demolition of a Doomsphere in some rotting dwarf-hold near the Grey Mountains. Only minimal casualties from falling rocks and debris.
Eventually, Grey Seer Vellux's anger passed and he was reminded of the two ratlings safely cradled in his hands. The injured cub was squealing and riling about in his paws. It bit into one of Vellux's fingers, forcing him to use every ounce of patience within himself to not fry the little worm with warp magic as well. The other stared back, whimpering as it looked at the Grey Seer. Even with the infantile features of a newborn pup, the ratling quivered with fear. Vellux cackled.
"So young and already so wise. The most feared-terrible Grey Seer in the empire is me-me. I will bring ruin-destruction to the man-things pathetic empire above," He poked the terrified ratling with a clawed finger, "And I will teach-teach you as well. You will be a Grey Seer and bring ruin to this world. To carry out the will-desire of the Great Horned Rat."
Venturing up the steps to the bell, the grey seer placed the two rat cubs in the care of a scribe. Loyalty had been beaten into the skaven long ago and it graciously gave the newborns slips of meat from his robe. If the protege of the grey seer were not well-fed and cared for, he would be the first to suffer. The scribe carried the cubs in a way they could watch the grey seer swing the clapper of the bell.
In one grand motion, the bell rang out for the 13th time of the day. Skaven in the plaza turned to grovel before Grey Seer Vellux. Other Skaven, decorated in elaborate, ornately decorated robes, climbed the staircase and stood beside Grey Seer Vellux. They began speaking to the masses of Skaven. The young rats strained their ears to listen.
Blind words of power and conquest echoed across the plaza. First, the city of Nuln would fall, then the entirety of the empire. Many ambitious Skaven before the ones on stage made similar boasts. Few lasted longer than a year before being betrayed then backstabbed or backstabbed then betrayed. Extremely few lasted as long as Grey Seer Vellux. He stood to the side of the platform, taking in the arrogance of other Skaven.
"...This-this is only the beginning! For the under-city! For all of Skavendom, we will rise!" shouted the skaven at the head of the bell's platform.
As soon as he finished his speech, the skaven clutched his neck and began coughing blood. He toppled forward, spoiling the fountain's brown water with a tinge of black skaven-blood. The mass of ratmen panicked, looking at the rooftops of shoddily built structures for potential assassins. Dozens of rats died, trampled by the mob of ratmen trying to escape the plaza.
The scribe squeaked in fear and hid behind Grey Seer Vellux. The Grey Seer curled his head back and began laughing hysterically.
Grey Seer Vellux shouted to the heavens, "Yes-yes. This is only the beginning."