Core Units
Kinrats: Kinrats form the bulk of the Under-Kingdom's armies. Numerous, strong and hardy, they hold the line against the enemies of the Under-Kingdom. They are disciplined and move as one, following the complex tactics woven by their commanders. Where one could fall, many stand strong!
On the battlefield, it it they that most often hold the position of anvil in the plans of the leadership, holding the enemy in place so that tampering blows can be brought by other formations. Formed into heavily armored blocks, they engage the enemy in grinding conflicts, changing formation and attitude with a smoothness born by costant training.
They are usually armed with spears, shields and sword, but can be found even armed with bows, slings or crossbows, unleashing a withering salvo of rocks and arrows before engaging the enemy in melee.
Their leadership is made up by their best, valorous champions and commanders that lead their brethren from the front. Priests and priestesses from the Church of the Radiant administer to their spiritual needs while a thourougly organized logistical system take care of the material ones.
With thought of family in their minds and the faith of the Goddess in their hearts, these uncorrupted ratmen stand strong, a tough nut to crack for any that would dare to try and despoil their lands.
The air was hot and heavy on the battlefield, tensed, just as bowstring.
"Loose!" The Spearchief barked, and a hundred arrows were let fly by the massed Kinrats.
The charging Beastmen, a snarling mass of stinking fur and gnashing teeth, were hit in full. Many Ungors fell, but the charge didn't stop, the bigger Beastmen keeping on coming even with arrows sticking out of chests and limbs.
"Shields!" The Spearchief commanded. A ripple of movements coursed along the formation of Kinrats as bows were slung and shields were unslung. With a resounding clang, the shields were locked together, and a wall of steel appeared. Emblems of Lodges and far-away gomes glistened under the sun.
"Spears!" The Spearchief called. Spears were lowered, trasforming the shieldwall into a deadly hedgehog.
"You will not break!" The Spearchief declared, his voice raising high into the sky.
"You will not run!" Behind helmets's slits, faces set into concentrated frowns. Teeth were gritted, feet planted into the dirt. Howling and braying, the Beastmen came.
"You will kill!" Light glinted over the tips of the spears, a thousand glimmers to make a glorious star.
"They will die!"
The Beastmen impacted against the shieldwall with a defeaning clang. Axes smashed against spears, clubs hammered at shields, swords clashed against armors. The shieldwall wavered, the lights danced with wild despair.
Then, with a roar, Spearchief Turgor cut down the Bestigor bearing down on him.
"Kill them all!" He howled, blocking a overhead blow and stabbing his assailant in the guts. A great chittering answered him as the Kinrats went to the business of killing. Their lights shone strong, their shieldwall stood unbroken. They fought well that day.
Stormrats: Taken from the ranks of the Kinrats, the strongest, biggest and most agressive of ratmen are gathered into formation of Stormrats. Covered from head to toe in heavy armor, wielding massive maces, axes and hammers, they charge at the enemy with roars of anger, chopping them down in a flurry of blows.
On the battlefield, is it they that launch counterattacks once the enemy's momentum has been absorbed by the Kinrat and it's always they that rush to inflict the deathblow to wavering formations.
They are usually kept in reserve, a weapon to be unleashed with accuracy by the keen-eyes general, but there's no shortage of episodes of Stormrats clashing head-on with Black Orcs, Bestigors and the heaviest armored units that the enemy could deploy, their battles like the din of thunder.
Wherever the battle happens, Stormrats plunge fearlessly in the heart of enemy formations, their armors absorbing massive punishments without buckling while they chop down anything on their path, securing victory for the commander that has unleashed them.
Stormrat Chief Azkafar watched the on-going battle with tense attention. The massed Kinrats had done well, absorbing the Beastman's charge and the giving it right back. The clash had been going on for a while, back and forth as the contenders struggled to break each other, but the Beastmen showed no sign of breaking yet. It was time to change that. The only thing Azkafar was waiting for was… There!
He could saw it, clear as a crack into a stonewall. A weakspot in the Beastman's formation. In their rush to get to battle, they had thinned their flank.
"Now is the time!" Azkafar said, and a rush of adrenalin ran across the Stormrats crowded beside and behind him. With a fluid motion, angry bloodlust flaring in his chest, he jumped the trench's wall and charged forward, waving his great hammer. "The King! The King!" He called, and his battle roar was picked up by all the soldiers running with him. "Charge!"
The Stormrats streamed out of the trenches they had hidden themselves, a torrent of heavy armors and massive weapons rushing against the flank of the Beastman formation.
Deafened by the din of combat and by their own bloodlust, the Beastmen didn't see them coming and when they did, it was too late.
The Stormrats smashed into them like a thunderbolt. They swung their heavy weapon to deadly effect, smashing bones, cutting limbs, punching through armor like it was paper. Under the surprise attack, the enemy formation collapsed. The Beastmen lost all their bloodlust and attempted to get away, running into every direction, stomping each other in their desperate hurry to escape. Only the strongest stood their ground, Bestigors covered in metal and wielding massive axes.
There was a confused clash, great weapons smashing against each other with a din that seemed like a storm had come down to earth. When the dust settled, only the Stormrats remained, amidst them the ruined remains of the Beastman chief and his bodyguard, bludgeoned into bloody paste and scraps.
Gunrats: Deepkin weapon industry is always working. Great factories, powered by the fires of the earth, costantly churns out weapons for the Under-Kingdom's war effort. The Leagues of th Mage-Engineers hold control over all of this, and the central government hold direct control over the Leagues, so it's no sorprise that the lion's share of the production goes to the regular army, with only a minimal part finding purchase by the private pubblic.
It's usually rifles and guns of all sizes and types to be produced and the soldiers equipped with them are gathered under the all-catch term of Gunrats. Gunrats form into disciplinated lines on the battlefield, gunning down the enemies of the Under-Kingdom with volleys of leads and iron. As all the ratmen soldiers of the Under-Kingdom, they are well-equpped, but forgoe the heavier armors of their front-line brethren in favor of higher mobility and speed. The typical Gunrat's equipment will be made of light armor, iron gauntlets and a thick helmet for protection, with a shortsword as a back-up weapon and a small shield.
Gunrats armed with ratmuskets are the most common. The Ratmusket is a single-shot weapon that require a laborious reloading, but it's cheap, easy to manifacture and to maintain, and tough enough to be used as an effective club into a pinch. Gunrats armed with ratmuskets forms into consecutive lines that shoots one after the other, allowing to mantain a good rate of fire. Their withering salvos are devastating and many enemies of the Under-Empires have learned to fear them.
Another variants are the Gunrats proper, to say, gunrats armed with guns. These are much rarer than their rifle counterparts, usually originating from smaller communities that for some reason haven't still made the passage to the Ratmuskets. The term Gunrat itself, in fact, calls back to the times when Deepkin made war mainly by ambushes and in loose formations. In the tight tunnels chosen for this kind of combat, the less encumbering gun was much more effective than its longer cousin, making it a mainstay and giving the entire category its name.
A third and fourth variant is composed of Gunrats armed with Hailshots and Thumpers. The Hailshot Guns are bulky, trombone-like weapons that shoots hails of bullets at close range, from which their name. Gunrats armed with these fearsome weapons are said Greeters, and form a bit of a mix between Gunrat and Kinrat. Heavily armed and armored in full plate armor, they stand in small groups at the fore of their armies, waiting for the enemy to come close enough before unleashing devastating flurries of bullets that shred through packed mass of infantry and break charges. They are especially effective against the frenzied charges of the Beastmen, and the havoc that they can cause can be impressive indeed. The meaning of their name is less of a joke and more of a fact.
The Thumpers are even rarer, with the gunrats armed with these strange weapons forming into specialised squads. The Thumper, or Ratzooka, is composed by a long tube, covered with clanking mechanisms and levers and provided with a handle, bulky enough that has to be shouldered to be aimed. Loaded the weapon with a projectile, ranging from armor-piercing single rounds to explosive shoots that send shrapnel flying around, a switch is activated by the Gunrat Thumper, or Ratkeeter, and the projectile is sent flying against its target by a small explosion inside the barrel that vent from the posterior of the tube. The effect vary, but they are inevitably explosive.
Ratkeeter usually operate in two-ratmen team, formed by a loader and a gunner, both with degrees of experience in the mechanical lore of the League. The Ratzooka, in fact, is a complex device and requires costant maintenance to work. Also, the extra muscle is needed since weapon and ammunitions don't make for a feather light load.
Ratkeeter teams are highly praised for their versatility and effectiveness, and many commanders desire to have at least a team in their ranks. Still, they are usually seen with a mixed feelings by the troops. Tales are still told of Ratkeeters flauting their higher status by having others carry their loads or of far-away explosions making the earth tremble followed by a Ratkeeter arriving squeaking and jumping into the soup cauldron to douse the flames on his derriere. The day-long chase of Ratkeeters Skrik and Crich by an enraged Matriarch Ironfur, after the two had inadvertently blown the latter's kitchen sky-high , and sent an inspecting Minister Crofuch and all his retinue head-first into her prize-winning giant cheesecake, is still recounted today around campfires, with a rich collection of songs on the argument.
Master Moulder Kuriuk watched with gleeful satisfaction as the Deviants scurried away before his mighty Rat Ogres. Before his creations, pretty armors and fancy formations meant nothing. Why, they really looked like proper scurrying rats now.
"You-you see now-now, oh Greatest of Seers." He said to the Skaven at his side. "We must not-not fear these deviant-wrong kind. Moulder's might-strenght will destroy them."
The Grey Seer sneered a bit at the precisation of whose might that victory was coming from, but otherwise said nothing, keeping on nervously stroking his whiskers.
Kuriuk was more than pleased by that silence, a confirm of his words. He was about to add something more, when a sudden boom made him jump with a squeak.
Turning, he saw with dismay that one of his precious Rat Ogres had been blasted to bits, what remained of it now strewn along a big portion of cavern floor. Ahead, at the tunnel entrance where the deviants were escaping ealier, was now deployed a thin line of ratmen, each aiming a long rifle-like weapon.
A order was shouted, and the line was coursed by a series of flashes, and then covered by smoke. The advancing Rat Ogres danced and rattled, like they were being pelted by a hail of stone. Many fell, their massive bodies riddled with holes. Some kept going, mindless violence pushing them forward even while their lifeblood stilled away. A couple of rockets flew through the air, obliterating these last defiants into explosions of gore and fire.
Kuriuk remained to watch, slack-jawed, mind reeling from the loss of his works. He didn't notice the Grey Seer slink away, leaving him as the sole commander of the area.
Support Teams: From the moment of its birth, the Under-Kingdom has been preparing itself for a great war against the corrupted Kin, a war for the soul of all Skavenkind. Great amounts of knowledge have been ammassed through the centuries, especially regarding how the masses of the Under-Empire go to war, and much effort has been put into the research of effective countermeasures. One of the results of this long effort are the so-called Support Teams. Groups of specialists passed through special training, they are attached to infantry contingents, bringing their own specialised skills to help the Deepkin footsoldiers overcome situations where gooc steel and stouat heart aren't enough.
There are many types of Support Teams: a Shieldbearer Team is formed by a big number of engineers whose main job is to carry massive foldable shields that can be set up as rapid barricades. Attached to Techno-turbines and other chugging mechanisms of the Leagues, these energy-strenghtened shields form a strong defensive barrier, giving Deepkin infantry a safe place where to shelter in case of enemy heavy fire or even a small fortress to consolidate territory gains.
A Sentry Team is formed by soldiers adept in the use of crossbows or long-range muskets. These snipers keep a careful eye upon the battle, strictly sparing their ammunitions until the right time is nigh. Only when they notice particurarly dangerous foes, like the dreaded Globadiers of the Skaven or Night Goblin Fanatics, they let their volley loose, putting all their efforts into trying to bring down these dangerous subjects before they can unleash their own brand of harm.
A Flamethrower Team is formed by two Deepkin, one that aims the weapon and one that carries the fuel tank and cranks up the machine. Gouts of flaming mixtures are spewed out of the muzzle, not only to roast swarm of beasts and monsters, but also calibrated to burn away contagions and orkoid spores. Very appreciated by the soldiery, especially when fighting goblins. The roasted meat is tough but filling, and a welcome addiction to the usual slob.
Particurarly dreaded are the Warp-Killers. These Teams are formed by wise-rats, scholars, ritualists, priests and mage adepts. Loaded with scrolls, books, chalk, animals to sacrifice, sacred oils, incense, religious icons and other occult implements, they invoke the Winds and the favor of the Goddess to reduce the effects of magic, daemon influence, Warpstone and warpstone-derived weapons or objects. Their work is a bit temperamental, as everything that has to do with magic is, but Deepkin soldiers will take any advantage they can; and then seeing a Warp-flame sputter into just a malodorous gust of air is a result one is ready to bear much to see, even the off-key chants that keep you up at night, the snobbish attitude or the occasional melee with books as weapons born by divergent views of how you scribble a ritual circle.
Medic Teams are formed by a mix of healers, alchemists and League adepts. They take care of the health of the troops, making sure that outbreaks of pestilence don't explode amidst the Kinrat and that hygiene standards are mantained. On the battlefield, especially where poison or similar kind of weapons are deployed, a quick intervention can mean the difference between life and death. Medic Teams provide anti-poisons for the soldiers, as well as invigorating potions and all kind of concoctions and poultices that can make sure that lives are saved where otherwise they would be lost. In the most dangerous cases, they take a first-hand approach, stitching wounds, burning scars, putting bones back in their sockets, administering the last mercies and so on. In cases where weaponized gasses are expected to be used, these teams can be even issued with rebreather apparatus, that they will then distribute to the soldiers proper.
The soldiery consider them a bit annoying sometimes, being told ten times at day to wash your hands or groom your fur can become frustrating, but that they bring a priceless service is not questioned by anybody.
Sapper Teams bring heavy support to the formation of Kinrats. Formed by soldiers expert into the art of destruction, they are armed with heavy demolition charges, shoulder-carried mortars that unleash fragmentation and incendiary projectiles, heavy rifles and mechanical digging equipment. Considered with a sort of wary awe by the common soldiers, expecially after having seen one use a steel-tipped drill on a living being, they are sometimes called, with not much creativity, "burned whiskers". Heavy smell of gunpowder hangs around them, so much that to smoke a pipe inside ten paces of distance is not considered wise.
Steal its strenght and make it yours
An utilitarian people, the Deepkin believe that as long something works well and without danger, it doesn't matter where it comes from. This mentality has pushed them, and still does, to keep innovation to the fore, their Leagues costantly working to refine the weaponry already in use and to invent new ones; as well as to not make much fuss when it comes to integrate technology or knowledge that comes from other people with their own, a trait well-incarnated by the Errant Lodges. Strenght comes in many forms, after all, and as such it can be stolen and taken, something that the Deepkin, taken into a fight for their own survival, have no qualm to do.
For example, the exotic martial arts of Clan Eshin, one of the powerhouses of the Under-Empire have been greedily studied by sholars down the centuries, with even Deepkin infiltrating in the ranks of the infamous clan. Or again, much study has been brought to the eating abilities of the Ogre and their Gut Magic, hoping to unlock its secrets. The examples continue on and on, with the government of the Under-Kingom funding many of these reasearches. This open attitude is such that a specific office had to be opened to keep track of the innovations brought from the outside world, and make sure that nothing of overtly dangerous is allowed access.
Underrunners: In the old times, when secrecy was paramount to the survival of the Under-Kingdom, the Deepkin made war into loose formations, with skirmishers adept at dispatching intruders through ambush and to leave no trace of battle. With time, as the Under-Kingdom grew in might, this particular way of warfare was supported and sometimes partly supplanted by more complex methods, mostly politics and subterfuge, but it has never stopped being a primary method of organization. Even today, as the Under-Kingdom steps to the light of open war against the Under-Empire, great numbers of soldiers are taught the way of guerrilla-style warfare and quick combat. Grouped under the nomination of Underrunners, these ratmen stalk the realms underground in loose formations, striking from the shadows to where the enemy is weak, just to disappear before retaliation can be brought. Numerous and well-trained, they are equipped with light armor and a variety of implements - be it traps, bombs, psychological warfare or simple violence - to use to make sure that the enemy arrives weakened to the battlefield or doesn't arrive at all. They also cover the role of scouts, ranging ahead of the main army to make sure that no enemy lies in wait or find ideal battlefields where to deploy for engagements.
When the time of battle comes, Underunners act as light infantry, supporting the heavier Kinrats or filling roles where mobility is called instead of brute force. They are usually armed with shortswords, small shields and some forms of long-range weapons, be it javeling, slings or bows. Some units are provided instead with long pikes and primarily used to keep monsters at bay.
Some formations of Underrunners are mounted upon the runts of the Molers. Big as a small horse, the Moler runts are deceptivelly fast for their bulkiness, even if not as a horse, adding to it good endurance and the ability to climb and march almost everywhere. Runters, as they are called, act as light cavalry for the Under-Kingdom, with each combat unit usually formed by a Moler runt, a rider and another soldier, trained to grasp at the runt's coat and fight together with the rider.
Versatility made manifest, the Underrunners make for a powerful addition to the Under-Kingdom's forces.
"I hate my life." Krikker helpfully informed, letting himself collapse into the dust. Seated all around, his team grumbled concurrence. They were all beaten, covered in dust and sweat and tired to the bone, with their equipment not faring much better.
"Do it later." The team leader replied, the only one on his feet, looking over a worn-out map. "Down at the hole they need reinforcements. The fatasses are pushing them hard."
A grumble passed across the squad, but none complained. It wasn't like one of them fancied being flogged by the chief.
Rations were taken out and the canteen with the brew passed around. It was good stuff, of the kind that put warmth in your bones. Down there in the caverns, it was that and the fur on your skin.
"How many hits?" Krikker began, munching on his food.
Holding out his arm for the medic, Yrthur gave him a grin. "Three."
Krikker spluttered a laughter. "Ah, bullshit." He said, sputtering pieces of biscuit. "You need at least five hit to take down a fatass, everybody knows!" Yrthur shrugged, and flinched when a ministration touched something sore. "What about you, Lenk?"
Shady Lenk was busy carving a spearpoint from a rock, and didn't raise his eyes from the work. "One."
Krikker exchanged a humorous look with Lenk. "Suuure."
Lenk rose his eyes, throwing both a glint-like stare. "To cut the rope of the trap."
The glance Krikker and Lenk exchanged wasn't humorous this time. With a disgusted snort, Krikker threw a money to his friend, that caught it with a chuckle.
A thin instrument sounded into the clearing ahead.
"Well, that's the call. Back to work, boys and girls." The team leader cheerfully said, rolling his map and stuffing it back in the backpack.
A grumbling passed across the squad. Rations and bandages and whetstones were put back in their pockets, and weapons were drawn.
A quick break and then back to business. Back to bloody war.