Beneath the world of Warhammer, across oceans and under unsuspecting sprawling cities creeps the Skaven race. Numberless masses reaching in the billions, the Skaven have managed to keep their existence from most

realms. And what they plan for those above is not altruistic. For they believe they are destined to strive for inheriting the gift of the Great Horned Rat, nothing short of the whole world, slaving for their every want and desire. They claw, drag and eat each other to the top of their nefarious society. It is literally a rat-eat-rat society.

To face a Skaven army is to behold swarms like a living ocean of tainted fur, filled with skittering ratmen moving faster than a mans run. The massed chaos is supported by lurking groups of greenish mechanical weapons

carried by two-man teams, with larger hulking war machines all built by the fickle genius of Clan Skryre. Chanting, squealing mobs of Clan Pestilens revel in their rotting, yellow-gnawed buboes, gifting the enemy with

all manner of magic-powered disease. Lurking in the shadows Clan Eshin sabotage and assassinate leaders, dragging prey down to their doom into the tunnels behind enemy lines. Clan Moulder drags and prods monstrous creations, bizarre mutations of rat ogres and multi-limbed rats and giant rats the size of dogs, up to

the many-storied Hell Pit Abominations. At the beckoning of war leaders, legions of heavy armored Stormvermin march confidently as the Grey Seer wizards poison friends and foe to taint whole battlefields and

wrack the skies with unbearable storms.

The origins of the ratmen lie deep in mystery, for mere record-keeping and story-telling is almost always exaggerated or outright churning with lies (as if they arent vile enough!). They seek much Warpstone to fuel

their mastermind of underhanded creations, from disease and mutation to technology and energizing their magical prowess.

Superficially, the Skaven look like any other Beastmen of the series, a seeming complete cross between a man-like body

with that of the rat. However unlike the varied Beasts of the world, which are mutations off the human form with few consistent variations, the Skaven are in fact a whole separate

species, with consistent differences. Beastmens mutations are the result of chance or pure chaos mutation, and as likely to

be harmful than helpful. The typical Skaven is about four to five feet tall and 90-

120 lbs (40-55 kg), however they appear significantly shorter due to their tendency of always walking in a hunched over,

twitchy, scurrying manner. This hunched over, cautious form belies a typical speed that can well outdistance the best human runners, and reflexes that are usually superior to a

human. They can be known for being rather flexible, agilewith trained individuals of Eshin able to pounce up to

five times their heightgood climbers, naturally stealthy and possess a wry sort of strength, though the latter is not noticeably better than a human and in certain forms is weaker

(Children of the Horned Rat mentions weaker in carrying things). Courtesy of their lifestyles, Skaven have hardy constitutions

and are more resistant to diseases and infection than a man. As one might expect from merging rat and man, the Skaven do possess tails that allow greater balance and sometimes even serve as a third weapon appendage, though a Skaven likely has to go through training to do so as with Eshin-rats (ordinary Skaven can

still use their tail to trip or bludgeon with though). Skaven possess four sets of paws and with their filthy lifestyle being scratched by one risks infection. Skaven are typically brown or reddish in color, though different types

of fur lend to different species. Those born fully black usually are fated to become either Stormvermin or the adepts of Clan Eshin, while those grey or white furs, rare individuals, can usually look forward to a life as a Grey

Seer.

Skaven eyesight is specialized to the dark, and they can see in low light conditions far

better than a human or even a dwarf. Conversely however they are in a disadvantage

in the sun or bright conditions, in fact bright enough can be painful to them and will avoid battles in the daylight if they can. Or, if forced

to, the Skaven will prefer to use lots of smoke to obscure the sun. Skaven are far more reliant

on smell, being able to identify races, even individuals, by scent alone and Children of the Horned Rat states they can sniff a human up

to at least a hundred yards (depending on which way the wind is blowing). Their sense of

hearing too is rather good and has been compared to a hunting dog.

Skaven possess an extremely quick, frantic metabolism that lends itself to allowing the ratman great bursts of energy in speed, ferocity and strength. However this metabolism has a drawback, as Skaven will need to feed

every couple hours or weaken greatly. According to Children of the Horned Rat they need to feed at least five times a day, though other sources suggest even smaller intervals. Skaven that do not eat will, in desperation,

eventually enter into a state of Black Hunger where they temporarily become fearless and focused only on food, tearing up corpses, enemies and even allies to acquire a meal. This is why battlefields that the Skaven fight in are usually described as eerily clean afterwards, for the armor/weapons are quickly looted while the corpses

are feasted on en masse! Their stomachs are powerful; capable of digesting bone or even said steel (possibly, it would give a hell of a tummy ache!). However it is also very small, which is probably why the Skaven

needs to feed so much! The Skaven bite is strong, and given enough time they can even chew through steel jail cells. On the battlefield leather armor will not last long at all against their vicious teeth. When they bite down they usually clench and will not let go, attempting to drag their prey down with weight as others pile on

them.

Perhaps because of this metabolism, Skaven usually live short, brutal lives. Assuming they make it out of childhood and dont fall victim to the myriad deaths available to a Skaven, they can only live up to twenty

years max, and will start to noticeably degrade physically at ten. Grey Seers and certain individuals blessed by the council may live far longer, though this is mostly due to the existence of magical, life extension elixirs.

Between betrayal, diseases, and the conditions of Skaven society most do not live past the age of five if that. Though it takes five years for Skaven to reach their prime, as of the End Times the Skaven have utilized magical means to rapidly speed this up, meaning they can be made adults in days from when they are born (though they

havent sped up the birthrate yet).

Skaven possess, and even communicate with, musk glands that unleash various scents depending on the mood and emotion the ratman. The most common is that of fear. As the Skaven are typically cowardly creatures and get scared easily this can cause one to unleash the scent of fear, which might cause others to instinctively

unleash the musk of fear. Ultimately this builds the palpable scent of terror in the ratmans mind, and helps lead to them routing quicker than other armies. However Skaven mindset also plays a role in addition to instincts,

and Skaven from other ranks will feel only contempt for routing slaves, and thus will resist routing in fear themselves. However if other, lets say, Stormvermin routorespeciallytheir leaders, than the Skaven will see/scent it (for leaders do cultivate individual scents as a matter of pride that is mixed when they spray the musk of fear) then this will cause a much quicker rout. Skaven scent glands are extremely complex and may give

off not just the emotion of something, but the quality and cause behind them (Children of the Horned Rat states that Skaven fleeing from Dwarves will give off a different scent than those fleeing from other Skaven).

REPRODUCTION Skaven females are, unlike the males, fat, indolent, semi-intelligent, rare and kept in a drug-like haze. Attended to by castrated slaves the females in the Skaven society exists for one purpose: to breed. This leads Skaven to call all females of any race breeders. They can typically give birth to about five litters a year, with each litter

containing about twenty young, and with a ten year typical lifespan may produce up to a thousand Skaven in their lifetime! Though Skaven backstabbing starts even as pups this birthrate has allowed the Skaven their

extreme numbers, outweighing every other race in the setting. Skaven females are of rare birth, and are thus only with the leaders are the few beings thought of as something worth protecting. Thus they are usually kept in the deepest, darkest pits, and enemies that can manage to destroy these females can actually inflict a

severe blow on the Skaven population and clan presence in the area.

It can be said that each and every Skaven believes himself alone to be indispensable. Possessed by selfishness, slyness, pettiness and innate cowardice in regards to harm for their own persons the Skaven mind cares not how much their race suffers, struggles or dies, so long as they personally benefit. Better him than I is the common motto as spite and fear are the two trademark Skaven emotions. In fact they literally cannot comprehend feelings of self-sacrifice and selflessness; it baffles them completely. Combine this with an innate extreme hunger, a manifestation not only for the physical desire of food but an insatiable greed for position, power and authority, and you have a pitiless society governed solely by the laws of strength, ambition and cunning. Thus causalities are rarely seen as something to avoid, and indeed are often encouraged in the minds of the leadership, for the more dead the less drain of resources there are, at least temporarily. Treachery too is common, for the Skaven look for any means to advance themselves over others available. On a less deadly level Skaven will steal every good idea from their peers that they can.

Given this, Skaven society is one of constant warfare and conflict. They must constantly fight for food and privilege, both against each other and other races. Skaven differences are far greater than every other race, with high end Skaven hoarding access to resources entirely for themselves and scheming to yet acquire more, for Skaven greed cant be satisfied. As mentioned Skaven can be divided into different classes based on privilege, with Black-Fur Stormvermin and the White-Fur Grey Seer lording over the rest, though the existence of clans serves as a means that a Skaven cunning enough can, hypothetically, overcome this problem through rising to power in one of the clans. Warpstone, the dangerous physical manifestation of the warp, commonly associated with mutation and madness in the other races, is an important cornerstone in Skaven society. It can serve everything from a basis for their weapons and technology, currency, a component for protective amulets, a boost for magic, weapon enhancement and much, much more. Skaven will go to any lengths to acquire more Warpstone, even the most miniscule amount. Skaven are remarkably resistant to its ill effects and mutation from handling it is rare (though ingesting it is still a bit dangerous). Warpstone is the support structure for Skaven society and is frequently employed in all manner of technological devices as well as plagues.

Skaven society is ruled by clans; social hierarchies of populations ranging from mere hundreds to tens of millions that Skaven are born into and usually remain for the rest of their lives. Skaven can sometimes defect however this is rare, in part because other clans usually use captured members of rival clans as slaves and due to an overlapping personality imprint of the clans that impacts how the individual thinks. For example Clan Pestilens are more likely to be fanatical and obsessed with spreading their faith, while Skryre-rats are more secular and concerned with expanding with their inventions. Though all, at heart, have the same Skaven traits already mentioned. Just as Skaven as individuals scheme against each other (clanmates or not) entire clans regard others as rivals and too scheme against them for ascendency. Though they rarely admit it, the Skaven view all clanmates as potential enemies. Skaven who occupy positions of authority are envied for their power, while those Ratmen who serve in lesser roles are constantly suspected of sedition. A Skavens empathy is limited to understanding the covetous feelings of his peers. Much of his suspicion is projected upon the Ratmen around him, whether or not the allegations are founded in any kind of fact. Skaven motivations are never pure, and even the simplest of actions on the part of one individual can cause ripples of suspicion that ultimately affect anyone who comes into contact with him.

The Skaven never accept blame for their failures, preferring instead to implicate others, thereby transferring culpability onto their competitors. The truthfulness of these accusations is irrelevant to the accuser, the accused and the superior, who must judge them; all that matters to any of the involved parties is the strength of the case. The blame game has always been a popular pastime amongst the Ratmen, and Skaven who are unable to successfully shift blame from themselves onto others rarely live for very long. Interestingly, this habit has grownfrom one of mere survival and of trickery, after centuries of breedinginto one of actual belief. Almost all Skaven seem to be psychologically predisposed to believe that their own failures must be the result of a subordinates incompetence, sabotage by a jealous rival, or the poor planning of a superior. The concept of failure based on ones own merit (or lack thereof) is simply impossible for them to imagine.

Skaven social hierarchy can be described as a giant Pyramid, much like other civilizations, with the Horned Rat at the very top. Following that is the Council of Thirteen (unofficially, Verminlords are above them), clan leaders of various ranks and grey seers, stormvermin, clanrats all the way down to skavenslaves at the very bottom. Skaven in authority viciously lord over those below them while those below cultivate extreme flattery to try and stay on the leaders good graces, even as they scheme to replace them. The Council of Thirteenmade up of leaders of the twelve strongest clans + Horned Ratsuperficially rules the race and are in positions difficultbut not impossibleto assail by ambitious underlings. 1. Seerlord Kritislik, Grey Seer (formerly) 2. Lord Gnawdwell, Clan Mors. 3. Kratch Doomclaw, Clan Rictus. 4. Lord Paskrit, Warlord-General. 5. Vrisk Ironscratch, Clan Scurvy. 6. Griznekt Mancarver, Clan Skab.

7. Unknown, possibly Clan Morbidus. 8. Unknown, possibly Clan Carrion. 9. Nightlord Sneek, Clan Eshin 10. Arch-Plaguelord Nurglitch, Clan Pestilens. 11. Packlord Verminkin, Clan Moulder. 12. Lord Morskittar, Clan Skryre.

The Horned Rat, also known as the Horned One, is the patron deity of the Skaven, and is worshipped exclusively by them. The Horned Rat represents the characteristics of the Skaven race itself deceit, spitefulness, backstabbing, disease and corruption. Despite these characteristics, the Horned Rat wishes that the Skaven work together to rule the entire world, which would then allow him to return, though what this "return" means is not further elaborated. In the End Times he actually directly manifested in the world during a council meeting, killing one fractious member before demanding that the rest pool their energies together to ensure complete takeover of the surface world. All Skaven revere the Horned Rat. None question his existence. Such respect is a product of fear, for the Horned Rats eternal hunger does not discriminate between his vermin children and the dwellers of the surface world. A devout Skaven utters small prayers to the Horned God throughout the day, each prayer being a verbal slice of hate, envy or malice. These prayers are answered often enough to give the Horned Rat validity in the minds of his adherents, even in cases when divine intervention is obviously not involved.

The actual armies of the Skaven are largely made up of Clanrats. An individual Clanrat is a fairly worthless opponent. Wearing little else than rags and maybe shoulder plates or stitched skins, they are only the match for a human thanks to teeth, claws, and twitchy reflexes and speed. But they have poor morale, strength, ingenuity or discipline, and would rather hide in the

shadows and pounce on a weakened foe than attack with any sort of boldness. Unless driven by their insane black hunger, they will paw and flick at the enemy. It is only when their feverish will comes with knowing that their chances of survival increase tenfold with the masses around them that their true abilities come to fruition. Goaded into battle with the promising chance at victory, snarling threats and the desire to overrun the enemy (maybe this time well get them!) they will use sheer weight of numbers to their advantage. When placed front and center before even a clearly mightier foe, banded together Skaven packs will attack with confidence and ferocity. If a weapon team is afforded to support them, then all the better their chances of winning (or escape). But after a single swirling melee, the Skaven will tire themselves but instead of exhaustion, they will get ferociously hungry. After a battle, they must gorge themselves on anything, small rats, dead, even injured friends and enemies. Or if its convenient, backstab the Skaven in front of you and immediately start chewing (preferably while your fellow Clanrats think hes still alive because once they realize hes not, they will want some too. Better to have it all to yourself!). Once the casualties start mounting, the Skaven of even large formations will begin to easily falter, and once a couple start turning away from battle, the likelihood increases that the rest will begin to believe the whole battle is in disarray and contemplate fleeing as well. LOADOUT: Claws, Teeth, Random Hand Weapon. Stolen enemy weapons DEFENSE: Scrap Light Armor (if it isnt so worthless to be recognized as armor), sometimes a wooden shield

Standing a stunted four feet tall, the Skavenslaves form the largest bulk of the Skaven swollen population. They are usually born in this manner, barely holding out through a cruel, abused childhood and, being of little value, is shoved into labor. Living past any more than a handful of years is quite a cursed accomplishment. Skavenslaves are also always swelling with captured or defeated Clanrats demoted in their loss and shoved into the lowly ranks. Almost all slaves die as slaves. Without being in any pecking order to bring down their vile wrath upon, they do so against the weak of each other. Stealing, scraping, cannibalism, and a bountifully slain enemy is the only means of eating and staying alive. And when food is scarce, slaves become a primary food source in of themselves! Seen as nothing more than worthless livestock on any day, they are sent into battle with any scrap metal and splintered, rotting wood as weapons (if anything at all!) and the luckiest ones might attain a shield. Almost always shuffled to the front lines, Skavenslaves act as meat shields and a means to keep a buffer between Skaven and their more formidable enemies. Skavenslaves form the largest bulk of the Skaven swollen population. They are usually born in this manner, barely holding out through a cruel, abused childhood and, being of little value, is shoved into labor. Living past any more than a handful of years is quite a cursed

accomplishment. Skavenslaves are also always swelling with captured or defeated clanrats demoted in their loss and shoved into the lowly ranks. Almost all slaves die as slaves. Without being in any pecking order to bring down their vile wrath upon, they do so against the weak of each other. Stealing, scraping, cannibalism, and a bountifully slain enemy is the only means of eating and staying alive. And when food is scarce, slaves become a primary food source in of themselves! Seen as nothing more than worthless livestock on any day, they are sent into battle with any scrap metal and splintered, rotting wood as weapons (if anything at all!) and the luckiest ones might attain a shield. Almost always shuffled to the front lines, Skavenslaves act as meat shields and a means to keep a buffer between Skaven and their more formidable enemies. Once the hundreds of slaves are choking up the enemys progress, those Skaven so armed can (and will) shoot right into the melee combat. Because their situation is so direly hopeless to begin with, Skavenslaves have the poorest morale and will explode in a dangerous, mad scramble when cornered, unknowingly dragging down some of their enemies and fellow Skaven alike. Crushed underfoot, blindly charged into or simply eaten as the last desperate act of life, those nearby can suffer horrible casualties, but their fleeing never causes any measure of panic in other Skaven forces. For what are the worthless slaves running but food to be hunted down after the battle? Skaven arent the only slaves used for labor and battle. Those of other races (though it is rare any other race is capable of surviving very long) can be captured and, if not eaten right away, will join the ranks of slaves. Captured enemies capable of toughening it out may be utilized as slaves in future combat.

= LOADOUT =

Teeth, Claws. Random Assortment of Weapons: Similar to Clanrats though on a worse-quality scale, Skavenslaves can be found armed with an

assortment of knives, clubs, and swords, as well as spears. Uniquely, several may carry slings and throw stones. All the better to keep away from the enemy!

DEFENSE: None (sometimes rich clans can afford to give them wooden shields)

The followers of Clan Pestilens and their subordinate clans are a strange Skaven type. Unlike most Skaven which are more prone to flee, backstab each other and grope for life, the Plague Monks seek more unity, enjoy the prospect of gifting the enemy with their diseases and are of such a high, feverish pitch they are nearly unshakable. (At least, compared to most). In the post-battle they are one of the few Skaven forces that will ignore the opportunity to loot, continuing to look for the enemy. However, this ill-discipline has been noted for causing them to charge prematurely. A massed group of zealots followed by a swarm of flies and trailing eerie clouds of their smell leaves more than a vomiting taste in ones mouth just nearing them. As they near the enemy, their squealing chanting vibrates with greater vigor and they become a mad flash of rotting limbs, hacking phlegm, foaming saliva and puss-popped ooze. The more diseases that gnarl away at their bodies, the tougher they become, ignoring all manner of grievous wounds as their tainted blood flies everywhere. The only way to stop such a zealous, mad, diseased enemy is to physically disable or kill them.

Clad in heavy plate armor, wielding a halberd and often carrying a shield, a Stormvermin is comparatively pampered to other Skaven. Born, he is immediately recognized as bigger, darker furred, and stronger than his littermates, and given prized care. Separated and surviving the political backstabbing and having eaten the rest of their immediate brothers, they become Stormvermin. In reality, they are the only valuable asset to a Warlord or Chieftain. Stormvermin see all other Skaven as beneath them, which in their society, they are. Slaves, some directly owned by Stormvermin themselves, seek to please and aid their masters. When they dont, theyre eaten by them. With their extra brutality and strength, they can wield weapons with ease and charge into combat with greater confidence. But these reasons are not the only thing that makes them valuable. They serve as bodyguards to their leader. Therefore, Stormvermin are given the closest thing that could be summed as privilege, such as the first feeding after a battle or choice picks from the scavenge pile of collected weapons. But such is not an oddity, for a Skaven leader knows that by granting them these favors they ensure domination over the clan with their loyalty. Longer-lived Stormvermin as a strength of position,

height and prowess know exactly what to say and do to please their master further to keep his assurance. As the most elite of the warlord clans, Stormvermin can be bought or lent for specific services as a political advantage for a show of might and power. That is, to have so many Stormvermin at your disposal as to be confident to show their prowess to others and bear your mark across their travels to other duties must mean greatness. Directed by Fangleaders, packs of Stormvermin enact the will of the Chieftain or Warlord. If one is to progress through the ranks (often from Stormvermin to Fangleader, and eventually to Chieftain and Warlord), he must somehow assure the support of the Stormvermin in the clan. Acting as the policing force of will, Stormvermin are the usual means of ridding any would-be usurpers, even fellow Stormvermin! Any Fangleader who has successfully protected his leader can receive nearly anything he wants. Once there, he can amass resources for bribery to ensure support. A Chieftain is only as big as his Stormvermin.

All Skaven who have any knack for creative stealing in a position to build and invest in the arcane sciences will be able to draw solutions to a problem or twist problems of the enemy. When the Skaven encountered large creatures such as those trolls fighting alongside Orcs and Goblins and later seeing the inhabitants of the Ogre Kingdoms, they figured they wanted a piece of that size advantage for themselves! Thusly, the hulking beasts known as Rat Ogres are the merging overgrowth of a Skaven rat-like creature with that of an Ogre. The result is a stitched-together, near-mindless monster that is only possible with magical Warpstone and sorcerous surgery. A Rat Ogre moves with the tail-twitchy reflexes and speed of a Skaven, while possessing the incredible brute strength of an Ogre. But it also has the magnified appetites of both, and must feed and eat constantly (to the point, they can ravage their own bodies and eat themselves as well as each other!). A furious merging of teeth, claws, and bulging muscles nearly ripping apart from strain of containment, whole packs of them are forced together, instinctively following the acts of the largest and strongest of their kind. Unless specially bred (or trained through extreme torture), Rat Ogres set free on the battlefield are incapable of anything but violence, and must be caged and separated after a battle since they do not know the difference of things in a battlefield engagement or simply traveling to a new battle. If there are things living and things standing that can be destroyed, and they will do it with ruthless efficiency.

Rat Ogres can also be the subject of much experimentation. Extra spines, spears or swords jammed into a spot a hand was previously cut off, an extra head (or two), and multiple limbs are common sights. No formal pattern exists except whatever works to keep them alive and holding together. If it can be mixed, fused or hammered into place, and stay just long enough to be seen used once, it goes. In a battle, Rat Ogres are used to hammer away at enemy beasts or smash apart a shield wall the Skaven are having trouble breaking through. It can also be summoned on as the choice weapon for a challenge. After the battle, surviving Rat Ogres that do well will have their broken bodies upgraded and quickly stitched back together for reuse. They are also extremely useful in demolition of structures. Master Moulders cant help themselves to their fleshy creations, any more than a Warlock Engineer can with his mechanical devices. Many questions abound as they find new body parts and problems with their latest breeding successes. Can it function with an additional arm? Will the pincer from a Chaos beast graft on or will it attack itself? How can more growing agents be squeezed out of prisoners to better enrich new creations?

Forwards! Only one left! Get it, get it! screamed the pale

furred Master Moulder, gesturing wildly towards the blood drenched, heavily armored figure.

The vampire stood in the center of the courtyard, surveying his surroundings coldly. His sword, dripping with blood

and gore, was held relaxed in one heavily mailed hand. The entire keep seethed with life, Skaven scrambling over each other in a roiling, hateful mass, pushing towards him from all sides. Huge rats the size of wolves erupted

through sewer gates, pushing into the overrun keep. They were twisted creatures, their forms perverted through

unspeakable experiments. The vampire frowned as another disturbing mutation pushed itself forwards. A human head had been roughly sewn to a giant rat body. The face twitched and gibbered uncontrollably, its tongue hanging loosely

from its gaping mouth.

A Skaven raised a cruelly barbed whip, lashing out at his giant rat charges. The spikes tore into the monstrous rodents backs, and they leapt forwards in a wild fury. Matching the savage attack with unmatched skill and power,

the undead warrior hacked his weapon through fur, flesh, and bone with ease. He cut a bloody swathe around him,

reveling in the bloodshed. The dead were piled thickly around the Blood Dragons legs, yet his unliving body showed no signs of fatigue.

The Skaven drew back, not wishing to get within killing range of the deadly warrior. Seeing a pale-furred Skaven

towards the rear who acted like a leader, directing the creatures around it with a cruel whip, the vampire leveled his

sword in its direction, his eyes filled with menace. His voice echoed ominously through the keep. A challenge! Step

forth creature, and meet my blade in combat!

The Master Moulder looked at the armored figure in shock, his eyes wide. The vampire radiated strength and power,

a menacing tall figure drenched in blood. The Skaven fingered his whip nervously, feeling the eyes of his brood on

him waiting for his reaction. Silence settled over the keep and he shrank under the vampires gaze.

A feral glint touched the Skavens eyes and he glared at his enemy. Turning his head, the Skaven shrieked in his obscene language into the darkness behind him. A trio of hulking forms moved towards the flickering light of the

torches, their massive shoulder muscles ripping and flexing. They stepped into the light, and the Rat Ogres lips drew back to reveal immense, rotting teeth. Rough stitching covered their bodies. One of the beasts had sheets of rusted

metal haphazardly riveted into its flesh. Another had its forearm amputated and a series of crude blades hammered

into the stump, a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around the wound.

The Master Moulder grabbed the heavy chain around the neck of one of the beasts, pulling it hard. The mutated creature growled dangerously and the Skaven raised a scarred hand, pointing at the vampire. The Rat Ogres turned

their gaze as one towards the defiant figure, their growls rumbling deep in their massive chests. They took a

menacing step forwards.

Challenge strong Clan Moulder, dead-thing? Accept your challenge, I do.

The three monsters pounced forwards, their speed seeming at odds with their overwhelming bulk. They moved

straight towards the Blood Dragon who stood in a relaxed combat stance, confident of his abilities. The vampire stepped forwards to meet the Rat Ogres head on, ducking below a lethal swipe with preternatural speed, slashing his

immense, ornate broadsword across the creatures belly. It roared in outrage and pain as dark blood pumped from the

wound, guts spilling to the cobbled ground. It sank to its knees, its lifeblood pooling around it.

A massive fist punched towards the Blood Dragon, who swept his weapon down with tremendous force to meet the

attack. The mighty arm was severed at the elbow, the twisted creature roaring in pain. With a lightning move, the

vampire reversed his blow, and thrust his sword up through the beasts neck, stuck fast. The monstrous creature

grabbed its adversary by the shoulder, claws almost a foot long pushing through his ornate armor, and hurled him

across the courtyard. The vampire smashed heavily into a stone parapet, a blow that would have broken the bones of any mortal being.

Rising into a crouch, the undead knights face twisted into a vicious snarl, his long black hair hanging wildly before his eyes. As the Warpstone-eyed Rat Ogre thundered towards him, the Blood Dragon leapt from the ground towards

the huge monster, landing with vice-like hands clutched to its thick neck. Plunging his sharp canines into the side of

creatures neck, the vampire savagely ripped its throat out with a vicious twist. The monstrosity fell to the ground heavily, and the Blood Dragon turned towards the Skaven leader, streams of dark blood gushing from his mouth.

The Skavens heart began to beat wildly, and it begun to push back frantically through the press of Skaven, seeking to

put as many of his minions between him and the avenging vampire that began to stalk steadily towards him. A

towering shape loomed up behind the vampire. A huge taloned hand closed around the warriors head, lifting the struggling figure high into the air. With a gurgling roar, ornate sword still embedded in its throat, the Rat Ogre

smashed the vampires head into the ground with brutal force. Time and time again the wounded monster pounded

the Blood Dragon into the cobbled courtyard until his head was little more than a bloody pulp.

The Skaven horde sprung forwards, swarming over the vampire and tearing him limb from limb in a gory frenzy. The

Rat Ogre fell to its knees, pawing weakly at the sword in its throat. The Skaven leader turned to its subordinate,

pointing towards the dying creature.

Take it to the pens, quick-quick! This one shows great promise.

Unlike in other clans where ferocious politics and killing earn special attention of any sort, among the Plague Monks, it is dedication. And those with the greatest dedication are allowed the privilege to wield plague censers. Running into battle with all the advantaged frenzy and squealing chants as their battle brothers, the bearers carry not an iron-tipped staff, but a massive flail. Though they are dangerous weapons, being wildly thrown about to smash and cripple enemies, the spiked balls are not solid, but hollow. Chambered within these holds the true power of the Plague Censer Bearers. The fires inside the orb burn rotting, stench-filled filth of the most diseased, poisonous concoctions, drenched in raw chunks of Warpstone. The enhanced magical noxious gas is so potent it can kill an ethereal creature!

Its literally taking the raw Warpstone and the magical power of Chaos and change and burning it into a fuming super bio-weapon. As they approach the battle lines, small groups of Plague Censer Bearers will smash into the foe as the opportunity to strike presents itself. Their mere closeness of presence conducts the main damage. At ease, contact with the haze of noxious fumes will cause flesh to erupt into fluid-filled blisters. When swung about, a great fog encircles the Plague Monks; exposure to it instantly fills lungs with virulent fluid and vital organs putrefy. And yes, these same problems, more-or-less, affect the bearers and any others of the Clan Pestilens brotherhood. Though the fumes for them seem to deaden their ability to perceive the greatness of the threats they charge into. No matter, even a hulking dinosaur can be reduced to ruin by a handful of Plague Censer Bearers. Anything still hacking, wheezing, blind by the fumes and otherwise unluckily alive will deal with the smashing impact of the spiked flail as secondary damage.

Take a Plague Censor. Magnify the size a hundred fold. Increase the potency of the burning fumes. Mount it on a giant, wheeled platform and swing it like church-bell battering ram. This is the Plague Furnace. Pushed into battle by a large gathering of Plague Monks, it is a diseased riddled altar to the Great Horned Rat, a platform for a Plague Priest to preach upon, and a means of hammering destruction against the enemy. While the platform is riddled with woodworm and rotting away, the structure holds. The glowing-hot censer swings forward and back, the orb blazing with heat while the deadly gas is hurdled about. It uses the same smoking Warpstone charcoal that powers the weapon of a Censer Bearer, but it has the skins of dead Plague Priests added to it. Used as a source of fuel, the skinned husks reek with infection, having absorbed a tainted lifetime of disease. Foul ritual and unholy magic sets alight the lumpen pox-ridden skins, which in turn ignites the Warpstone. The resulting warp-heat turns into a furnace, producing the billowing cloud of baleful death.

The strength of the fumes and the warp-heat is so strong it stings the eyes just to behold it. As the fumes sweep over those Plague Monks pushing the platform, their robes are bathed in the concoction, giving them over to eye-bulging bloody frenzy, shrieking their chants and doubling their efforts to reach the foe. First, the swinging censer can violently be swung around to unleash a concentration of the toxic gas upon the enemy. Then, as the momentum of the blazing orb increases as they near the foe until it crashes right into the enemy lines. The rusted chains are released, and the massive, swinging censer is tossed over and into the enemy. Those that arent crushed, flattened or impaled are surrounded in the sickly fog. The, undoubtedly fractured and mad-driven enemy is then found to be in the presence of dozens or more of Plague Monks that have been enhanced in fury and strength by the weapon as its hoisted back in place for another swing. The Plague Priest, somewhat protected by his devout followers and the structure of his mount, can unleash his own deadly magic upon the enemy or bless his fellow brothers with poisonous strength. In the year 2489, nearly 2500 years after being driven out of Lustria by the might of the Lizardmen and the Slann, the Plague Monks attempted to regain their realm. For an attack on the temple-city of Quetza, they emerged with such thickness in numbers and brought so many Plague Furnaces that swathes of jungle were covered in pestilent mist. In fact, it was so thick, the unnatural cloud could be seen for miles, rising over the canopy of the rainforest. Luckily, a stray untimely meteor strike (yeah right) prevented the total victory of Clan Pestilens. However, due to its questionable construction (as it is with all Skaven products), it is bound to occasionally develop dysfunctional mishaps. The orb being swung into the enemy on attack might break the chains and fall flat into the enemy, or less desirable, crash apart in the wrong direction! It is also so very potent that a dozen Plague Monks can fall over the course of a battle just from subjecting to the powerful fumes, sacrificed to push the weapon into battle!

Wherever the Skaven tread a tide of rats follow. Naturally loyal to the Skaven, they are a natural food source and form an endless supply of uses. With Warpstone eyes, a crystal ball can see all they can see, allowing the Skaven to size up an enemy force and listen in on their

plans, attacking at the weakest points. They can be injected with all manner of plagues by Clan Pestilens and spread about to the foe. Clan Moulder enjoys mutating them and sprawling massed numbers of them on the battlefield directly. They can also simply exist as pests; attacking random scouts or leaders as they sleep, eat up the enemys food supply, tear up tents and clothes for bedding and nesting and leave their filth to spoil everything else. Nothing is spared: horse feed, moist dropping and urine on gunpowder, bones and bodies for harvesting, hay, chewed cords, wires and rope, all of it. It is well that they mysteriously converge in a living carpet of bodies for they can scout ahead of a Skaven army and overrun an enemy position. Even for disciplined troops, a scuttling tide can make men slip, weigh down armor, and blind well-armored troops as they seek weak parts to chew on flesh. They can provide quite an obstacle simply to waste energy and resources on before the Skaven army begins their attack. For the sorceries of the Skaven who can spell ruin and rot, massed numbers of them can be summoned. Warped or converged into the battlefield, they form a wide, unstoppable ocean starting up at the spell casters call. They can follow specially marked evil banners, tripling the strength of a marching regiment or be thrown as projectiles over defense lines! Setting them ablaze in fire could only fuel the damage, as each body touches the other, quickly turning that once river flow of rats into a churning river of fire all over your own men, supplies, and explosives.

Taking what was once an ordinary rat and enhancing it to the size of a hound is not a problem for Clan Moulder. Having long perfected the basics and eager to do more, hordes of giant rats are given all manner of upgrades. Like Rat Ogres, successful giant rats can be mutated and stitched with different body parts, contraptions and weapons bartered (or stolen) from Clan Skryre, multiple heads and even the body parts of other animals, even humans. They can be given harsh injections of poisons or walk about with fuming black gas sprouting from anywhere and everywhere. Driven to battle by Packmasters or a Master Moulder, Giant Rats form a seething and snarling mass that seeks to rip, tear and gnaw at any enemy they can reach. Deployed in strength of numbers, they can use their powerful jaws and saber-like incisors to bring down far larger prey. Because Giant Rats are so common and easy to breed, they are usually present in a warlord clan as they are cheap. The best of the pack can even become a (somewhat) loyal guard dog of sorts for the leader himself. Not that any Skaven isnt expendable, Giant Rats are more so, unleashed like hound dogs upon the enemy or if a Clan Skryre leader thinks of it, strap explosives to them.

No one, not even Clan Moulder, knows exactly when, where or how the Wolf-rat was conceived for its abundance now rivals the Skaven themselves. Wherever the ratmen can be foundfrom the jungles of Lustria to the mysterious Hidden enclaves of Nipponthe foaming, vicious wolf-rat can be found by their side or in the wilds of the Underempire. The Skaven keep them mostly as guard rats, hunting companions and in the lean times as food-though the Wolfrat is tenacious enough to often get the better of the Skaven sent to kill it! In this manner the ratmen share a foil with the race of Man and their canine companions however unlike with dogs the Skaven have never managed to truly tame the Wolfrats and must chain them frequently having to deal with escape attempts killing slaves in their tunnels. Wolfrats have such a high metabolism that they are usually described as at the point of starvation and destructive to every environment they live in. Driven mad by their hunger the Wolfrats, when available, are often released in front of even the slaves for it will charge fearlessly into enemy lines. Like everything else the Skaven often cannot resist tinkering with these creatures. Some are mutated by Moulder into rats many times larger than their kin, while Clan Skryre has been known to fit their claws and teeth with Warpstone. As most Wolfrats feast on diseased carrion their saliva is full of deadly bacteria & toxins.

Lurking amidst the ranks of Clanrats, Slaves, or Stormvermin are the shadowy Poisoned Wind Globadiers. Holding precious glass or crystal orbs, they use their fellow Skaven as body shields until they can get within a grenade-toss range of the enemy. The globes shatter, pretty harmlessly on the target, or in their midstthe Globadier is too busy running away to really find outwhen too late the warning is heard. Black, green-glowing, dusty smoke rises up. On mere skin contact, the gas causes severe pain and even a quick death. Breathing it in causes bubbling

pus to grow inside the lungs, causing traumatic and near instant death as vital organs are bubbled away from the inside out. Armor matters not. Neither does being a ghost, demon or spirit apparition. This doesnt stop the Globadiers from going into battle dressed in heavy armor under thick robes and wearing complex breathing apparatuses. In the event of an accidental drop or the throw didnt quite make it, the protection offers a little assistance at least but is far from full-proof. Though that is to say the Skaven around them are not clad in such protection and they will, in their haste, throw their weapons straight into a melee combat with friendlies. It is not uncommon for groups of known Globadiers to be sought after the battle and attacked for the damage caused by errant (or purposeful?) globes mid-battle. About the only thing that could totally escape harm from the poisoned wind globes would be an automation that had no pilot, engineer or magical essence to power it.

Poisoned gas is one of the most famous weapons of the Warlock Engineers, who first deployed it against the Worlds Edge Mountain Dwarves in enclosed tunnel fighting. The Engineers have attempted many designs of delivery of the toxic gas with variable degrees of complexity (and risk!). While Poisoned Wind Globadiers have been some of the most successful, a simple, longer-ranged method has come about. Poisoned Wind Mortars increase the toss range of a throwers hand to nearly arrow-shot range while not decreasing the rapid pace of a marching Skaven army. They only need a few seconds to fire before scurrying along again, and using the eager squeals and squeaking directions of Clanrats or Stormvermin they accompany, can lob the deadly projectiles out of sight. This can be understandably frustrating as the globes come in from an imprecise location, with greater strength of force than handheld versions. This is exactly how the Mortar team would prefer it; hitting the enemy, devastating heavy troops, while sitting comfortably away from battle with a whole regiment of Skaven as a buffer to counter-attack.

What is essentially a giant hamster wheel, spools, and a tide of rats moving to a shock prod (or stolen Dwarf ale) makes up this utterly Skaven device. To those armies who have never faced one, it looks rather odd and clumsy, if not vulnerable. To those armies that know better, such as the Dwarves, every available heavy weapon, cannon and doomsday device is utilized to stop and destroy it before it hits the lines. Indeed, Dwarf cannon teams will unquestioningly sacrifice their lives (and precious cannons!) to get one last shot at a charging Doomwheel point-blank. The Warlock Engineer pilot is puffed up and proud of his machine operating (for the most part) smoothly, knowing that he can topple giants, other war machines, and overrun enemy positions. When enough energy is accumulated, he can unleash an explosion of warp lightning in all directions, stunning if not, outright frying targets to soot. The strength is dependent on design and the amount of power gathered. But this is only half of it. The

rest is being driven to the ground or being crushed underfoot. It is by far the closest thing the Skaven have to heavy cavalry, and it can attain speeds far greater than galloping horses. For the successful and giddy Engineer, while in the seat there are many things to attend to. Making notes about the next model, monitoring the power intake, goading the rats to keep running, and on the occasion, steering the actual vehicle once it starts rolling over things. It is not unusual to see one of the enormous wheels plowing back into its own lines, but random, cruel and undeserved death is nothing new to Skaven. Besides, what is the occasional squished Clanrat or Skavenslave for the power to kill monsters and crush whole regiments of enemies? Still, wise commanders will deploy the haphazard doom weapons as far away from their personal location as possible. As awesome as the machine is, little things can occasional go wrong. A few things fall apart, the rats becoming unbearably unreliable, and in the worst case scenario, the whole machine can explode, taking with it a chunk of the surrounding battlefield!

From the Ratling Gun to the Warpfire Thrower, there are many common diabolical devices churned in mass production by the successful Clan Skryre. Bought or lent out to other clans, these weapon teams follow a regiment of Clanrats or Stormvermin (sorry Skavenslaves, too worthless to deserve covering fire!) and lend aid as a fire team. Operating at medium ranges like the Poisoned Wind Mortar, they provide key force multipliers for the relatively weak and poorly equipped Skaven.

The RATLING GUN is a pump or crank-operated multi-barreled weapon that spits out Warpstone bullet shards at the enemy. Depending on the audacity of the team, they can unleash a huge storm cloud of bullets equal to or superior of modern machine guns, though at the risk of overextending the capabilities of the weapon. Mowing down vast groups of enemies, plunging through sturdy shields and heavy armor, there is little, physical defense this weapon can hack into. Clanrats refer to the weapon as teeth-breakers since the bodies of the slain they would eat is riddled with hard chunks of Warpstone. They come in other shapes and sizes, some with tripods, some with shields, some on wheels, but all are equally deadly and equally prone to malfunction. Of the team weapons to malfunction (and accidental shooting), this is likely the most desired. Like other Warpstone weapons, it ignores your nature of existence and will harm you regardless of what you are if you are struck.

The WARPFIRE THROWER trades the rapid attack and range of the Ratling Gun for spitting out gouts of green glowing flames. Due to the dangerous nature of the weapon, the team must stand in place to aim the

nozzle and shoot. Like sorcerous napalm, it will arc over defenses and bathe the enemy in Warpstone -enhanced fires, which has the ability to turn a whole formation into a twitching, throbbing pile of smoldering goo. Such is

the nature of warp-fire, liquidation of all it touches. When this weapon malfunctions, it isnt pretty. Hopefully its just a pump issue or, oh shit, they just burst into flames and are running straight back towards us its going to explode isnt it?

Commanders that would not like to see a foe retreat or get the high ground can send masses of Clanrats or

Skavenslaves to hole up the enemy, and in the ensuing melee confusion (which at that time would probably be going poorly) be ordered to pour flames all over anyone and everyone.

When Dwarves were first encountered, it was clear that a sturdy shield wall needed to be dealt with. Skaven didnt have the discipline or strength of will to ram the Dwarves head-on shield-to-shield, so an alternative needed to be found. An early Engineer had the idea to cobble together a huge amount of well-designed shields scavenged from the battlefield, attach a large number of spinning blades from every angle, and housed within the bubble of protection, jam the contraption right into the battle lines! Suffice to say, this machine did not survive the encounter, but the idea did. Various incarnations to the spinning, slashing, stabbing and raking weapon was devised and is known as the DOOM-FLAYER. Using large amounts of scrap metal and reinforced heavy wooden planks, the crew can drive the chariot-like vehicle into the ranks of the enemy while staying relatively well protected behind it in their own heavy armor (probably derived from the same scrap metal). Eventually, Warpstone-powered versions were invented, using machine-drive power to spin blades at propeller speeds, chopping and hacking limbs with the ease of a blender to fruit, and repeatedly smashing and stabbing through shields while the multi-angled blades ensure that some fleshy part of a shield wall is going to give way. But so too does this mean something in the power generator wont give

way and cause a collapse, odd spun direction, or complete and total explosion (hopefully though not before its driven into the enemy ranks!).

For centuries, Skavenslaves have dug tunnels using scrap shovels, claws, or the Skaven might use explosives (only to collapse the whole thing and end the clans existence). A more fiendish way has come about. Warp-grinders, another Clan Skryre invention, utilizes a Warpstone core to create electrical lightning fields that can be used to buzz through a tunnel, faster work and more precise. A handheld version can be used by a weapon team to create tunnels large enough for one or two Skaven to pass through at a time. Using this device, Clan Eshin sabotage squads of Night Runners and Gutter Runners can work their way underneath the enemy and spring up right out of the ground in an unexpected quarter. These weapons are seldom seen, the team preferring to keep to their duty in the dark tunnels and let Clan Eshin do the work (and taking credit for the whole operation if the agents die and there is some measure of success). But on occasion they too can be seen aboveground, using their Warp-grinder on a foes in a close-range proximity, though not entirely effective. The main task is to allow the Skaven to attack behind enemy lines. However, while faster than digging and more precise and safer than explosives, the journey through the tunnels can be rife with tunnel-collapsing hazards. Even if there are no encountered hazards, accidentally burrowing into the ocean or magma chamber can give you enough ideas, or springing up completely isolated from the army and being surrounded if they get lost.

Ever since the Skaven got their hands on the pinnacle Dwarf hand weapon, their own musket-like handguns, the Skaven couldnt help but take interest and perfect it in only the way a Skaven can. Elongating the barrel, increasing the magnification (so the dishonorable Skaven can attack from the greatest possible distance), and using Warpstone, Clan Skryre has made the most reliable Skaven weapon known in existence. Its almost entirely safe to use! The Warplock Jezzail is a classic example of the overuse and application of Warpstone. The material appears in the bullet, firing mechanism, and even in the gunpowder. All of it enhances the considerable strength of the weapon to punch straight through the shield, breastplate, maille and body of a lightly-equipped knight. Even if the projectile does not hit a fatal spot, the Warpstone itself having just passed through organs or being imbedded in the body can cause considerable, irreversible harm and pain, acting as a poisonous weapon. The long barrel and weight means that a second teammate is required to hold the weapon in place, and if there is a shield to do it on, all the better. Jezzail teams are not only far away from the main battlefield, they are often out of the range of most weapons. Even those weapons that can strike home will usually bounce of or imbed harmlessly in the shield. Notably, Dwarf handgunners in the range of a Jezzail team are accurate enough to shoot back, but are very ineffective. The snipers dont even duck and run they are confident enough! Instead of directly supporting Clanrat or Stormvermin regiments, groups of Jezzail teams remain together, lining up their shields in the same advantageous location (hidden away with much terrain for cover, and way up high if possible). Sniping high-priority targets (such as those getting uncomfortably close to the shooters) or trying to execute battlefield leaders, each clan boasts having the best marksmen. Thanks to high field of vision and good view of the battlefield, the teams can see danger a long ways off and thus abandon the battle while the rest of the army is getting chewed. Being in a relatively safe distance also means they arent subject to as much slave-driven attack and this means a rare probability of experienced survivors. The best sharp shot in legend was Natty Buboe, who was claimed to have made accurate shots up to 7,000 paces. Shooting the eyeglass of a Dwarf telescopic sight, he would shoot any Dwarf walking up to look through it. Since no Dwarf believed they could be out-shot, many Dwarves lined up to see this myth, only to die by his hand.

There is something intoxicating to a Skaven about wielding the power to control and motivate all manner of monstrous beasts such as Giant Rats and, even deadlier, Rat Ogres. It is the power of Clan Moulder to not only create, breed, and sell the creatures, but throw in their own special Packmasters called Master Moulders to control them. Otherwise, buying the nasty brutes without someone who knows how to control them ensures the uncontrolled death frenzy will allow Clan Moulder to quickly take repossessionwin-win situation sometimes. To those who know how to use the whip and things-catcher, to snap the beasts in the right place, time, and avoid getting beaten to a pulp for it is an art form and guarded skill. Those who know of it are Packmasters. Those who are not successful Packmasters end up simply becoming feed for their merciless packs. Because some clans do not fully trust Clan Moulder, instead of buying their own charges, they will insist on handling the beasts themselves. For this reason, while not all Packmasters come from Clan Moulder, a vast majority of them do as Clan Moulder is the only clan with enough in training and supply to sell their services to other clans. The whip is a favored weapon and beast-driving tool, keeping the Packmaster out of harms reach while snapping his charges to attention. An adept Packmaster can even use it against the enemy, attacking over the heads of Giant Rats or skillfully between Rat Ogres. They can disarm the foe, lash out without getting hit, and if laden with Warpstone spikes, will sicken survivors to poisoned death. Specifically, the true experts are called Master Moulders, the ones who actively breed and mutate the creatures and are a rank above the Packmasters. On the battlefield, they lead their own personal packs into battle for inspection of both the beasts and any other Packmasters in the group. Master Moulders instill greater control and discipline in a pack, largely on account of their ability to cause even more severe pain. Many Master Moulders bear unique (if not downright horrific) tools of their trade, such as the things-catcher.

Packmasters and Master Moulders can also be used to herd large numbers of Giant Rats and even the common rats that converge around the Skaven. Other clan-specific rats such as the diseased, rotting swarms produced by Clan Pestilens, might require the service of a Packmaster to direct the rats to the enemy.

Skaven are herded into battle led from the rear and threatened if questioned. It is their right to put as many underlings between them and the enemy as possible. Backing down out of a challenge or standing up to the front to take the brunt of a charge is considered a foolish thing. Skaven leaders utilize as many resources to dispose of potential threats around them as they do contributing them to the destruction of enemies of other races. After all, there is equal risk in losing the resources for potential gain in war as there is in another Skaven lusting for position. For leadership, there is no gradually earned respect, vote for the title, honorable duel or inheritance. There is only a challenge for the position that can take form of an open duel (rare, but when the

target is weakened, its a sure sign to earn respect of the formers underlings!), backstabbing, political bribery, double and triple-crossings assassination, or simply sheer brutal muscle through intimidating terror. Underhanded tactics such as claiming to be the one behind the killing (even though an assassin sent by someone else or a failure to survive an encounter with another races champion) and destabilizing lies that upset the balance of power are also completely acceptable forms of taking position. All of Skaven society subconsciously understands that to be ruler means it was taken by cunning, force, or both, and such cunning or force should not be reckoned with. Even carrying the mark of the Thirteen Council holds little importance to several clans distant from the Lords of Decay. Warlords and their sub-commanding Chieftains make up the greater part of the tens of thousands of rulers that shift in power daily. They are equipped with the best wargear and fitted with the finest armor that catches their eye (at least, to their knowledge). This inevitably means they have stolen it from the pick of the scrap pile of captured items, stole it from the creator, or bought it at the most outrageously unfair pricewith a form of payment almost sure to never reach the seller. All commanders must aggressively take credit for positive outcomes and swiftly allocate blame for all that goes poorly. This ranges from tweaking the truth to outrageous lies. The fact that few believe such lies or blatant self-aggrandizement is neither here nor therewhat is important is the small strand of possibility (for fear within the subordinates) and the sheer audacity required to make such claims. It takes a great leader to speak great lies.

Those few chosen leaders can bear various icons, flags or banners for those around him to plainly see. They cause dread in enemies, summon unnatural allies, drip with weird energies or inspire those Skaven around them. Several are very specialized and specific, only one exists. Assume that if it affects the whole battlefield (or could) there will only ever be 1 in the entire Skaven force, but smaller more minor-effect banners could exist as a few. But a taste of what the different standards are capable of is listed below. Sacred Banner of the Horned Rat: Rendered in blood and Warpstone, this hide banner is a tapestry of dread and evil. The runes twist and move so that they can be read, in any languageGaze into the eyes of the Great Horned Rat and despair. And as the banner is written, it is so, as enemies fall into gibbering loss of courage. Storm Banner: This ancient banner has the power to wrack the sky with storms, tearing the heavens apart with its fury. Once activated for a temporary time, all creatures and machines of flight are thrashed out of the sky over the battlefield, instantly grounded. Worse, ranged attacks of most sorts find it difficult to hit their marks on target from the high-pitched storms, giving cover to the Skaven army. Grand Banner of Superiority: These banners take as many forms as there are Warlord clans. Some are colossal totem-like trophy racks of enemy skulls, others rune-etched hide, or ragged shrouds magically emblazoned with clan signs. The result is a bolstered reinvigoration to stand up to enemies in a fair (or almost fair) combat rather than flee. Shroud of Dripping Death: This horrid banner is covered in foul stains that drip and splash as the banner moves. The whole of the vile hide throbs, oozing a greenish tinted fluid that flails over the enemy during combat, seeping into and around their physical armor. If the Skaven flee, the dripping shroud leaves a tainted pathway, causing terrible wounds to those who dare try to pursue. Banner of the Under-Empire: A brown tide of rats scurries along with the unit bearing this unholy icon of the Great Horned Rat. They accompany the unit and will hurdle themselves into combat against the enemy, ceaselessly attacking until the banner and its unit is destroyed. Dwarf-Hide Banner: Skaven hate the bearded-things to a great degree, though the favor is returned tenfold on the other side. The presence of Dwarf-specific irritation (such as shaved Dwarf beards and skin washed in Skaven urine), inciting a fury of combat on both sides. Banner of Verminous Scurrying: Rituals of skittering urgency allow this banner to deliver a surge of energy to the unit carrying it. It can only be used briefly once activated upon which it will triple their run speed. Other common banners exist recognized throughout the Warhammer world that contributes in more general ways. Some create an aura of toxic fog to give undue festering filth on their claws and weapons, and others can be the baleful abomination to all flying creatures nearing it, or magically represent extra-fine sharpened weapons. Standard Bearers in the Skaven armies are most often going to be specially-chosen Fangleaders, lieutenant overlords answering to Chieftains and Warlords (who can also carry them), as well as a few other heroes. Typically the overall leader of the army of extreme position will not stoop so low as to carry a banner; they have other business to attend to.

Their monomaniacal zeal and devotion makes Clan Pestlines the most single-minded of all the Skaven clans. They are different, counted strange by all other ratmen. This absolute belief in their own righteousness has caused untold friction among Warlord and Greater Clans alike. Recognized as a major power, Clan Pestlines has a high seat among the Lords of Decay, having risen from seventh to tenth position. It is no secret, however, that many scheme to have the diseased ones destroyed. It has been this way since Clan Pestlines rise to power, when they nearly overthrew the Council. Ceaseless faith and an arsenal of diseases has not only helped Clan Pestlines survive, but has seen their influence grow.

Plague Priests have to keep to a dozen and more duties in their quest to become walking, living diseases. They strike fury into the hearts of the Plague Monks, leading them in the rituals and litanies of their zealous works to invoke greater woe of their diseases. They must religiously tend to the Cauldrons of a Thousand Poxes bubbling iron vats of untold filth, are never empty but instead brim over with new and terrible diseases to contaminate the world. They must record their effects on the enemy, Skavenslaves, and even on each other. Indeed, their own specially made diseases are not feared, but accepted as a Blessing from the Bringer of Pestilence himself. To be a living altar, a walking vessel of contamination, is the stride goal of every Plague Priest, who themselves lead by example. The only thing that could possibly keep them going is the arcane sorcery as they claim to be gifted from the Harbinger of Disease himself, the Horned Rat. Whether arcane might is granted through the study of the Book of Woe, or divine presence, there is no denying the noxious powers of the Plague Priest. On the battlefield, they vomit geysers of black death or curse the enemy from afar so that they erupt with withering boils; Plague Priests wield loathsome but potent magic. Their long history and devotion to disease has churned them into bizarre, bloated figures that have unnatural durability to inflicted wounds and attack, taking nearly as much punishment as a Rat Ogre!

Plague Priests as leaders get to receive the choice pickings of the scavenged captured stockpile of weapons and gear, though any who might dare oppose him would think twice before handling anything he touches anyway. But there are some diseased items that only Clan Pestilens would dare touch, such as some listed below.

When a Skaven warlord or rabble clan needs an immediate edge over their rivals in regards to mass destruction they call in those who they know can provide the most fantastical craft and superweapons for a price. They call the best and brightest of the Skaven race. They call in the Warlock Engineers. The Warlock engineers are the gifted craft makers of the Skaven race, the ever tinkering eccentric geniuses behind the most gifted inventions of the Skaven Under-Empire. Unlike other empires, which view magic and science as separate entities, the Warlock Engineers see no distinction and frequently merge the two together in combinations the other, more conservative races of Warhammer would view as insane. Numerous weapon teams and arcane hand weapons, the most popular of which being the Jezzail, have been invented by these tinkering rats. Inventions need not have military use, and indeed their greatest invention in recent years other than the Stormfiend is the long distance telephone. This desire to innovate often applies to their own bodies, which is often missing limbs and instead possesses robotic equivalents!

When war-time comes and the Warlock absolutely cannot get away from the front-lines or is a glory seeker the Skryre-engineers often come to battle with their own inventions. These might be mundane, like warp pistols, muskets or warp-powered weaponry. Due to the Grey Seer enforced moratorium on sorcerers of other clans (that Pestilens and Eshin sneak around) Clan Skryre has come up with a clever technology way to bypass this by using warp generators on their back to harness and then cast magic. Though it isnt cheap so not all warlocks have it since they themselves arent technically sorcerers, this allows them to cleverly bypass the dictate. Other exotic weapons include a globe filled with even more virulent gas than the globadier, an orb capable of opening small orbs in reality and even the Doom Rocket, an actual rocket launcher! Though the rockets sometimes veer off course, are duds, or even explode in the warlocks face they are excellent examples of Skaven engineering. Sometimes the device is even more radical than these still.

Hand or Great Weapon, often Warpstone

enhanced. Pistols and muskets are common as well, while other more exotic weapons like the Doom Rocket and several types of bomb exist. Warp Blades, powered by their generators to be extra deadly, serve as a fine melee tool. Sometimes might be a Level 1 or 2 wizard with a specialty in the Lore of Ruin and warp lightning spells in particular due to their warp generators. This allows for more Warlocks to have magical ability then the Warhammer Fantasy norm ratio, though almost always only level 1 or 2 (depending on the upgrade) and, of course, with the possibility of the generator going horribly wrong

Clan leaders sometimes others, might choose to go to battle borne atop a steed or a copy of something they have seen of other armies to give themselves height and frightening size advantage. Plus to be near anything they dare ride is unsettling already. Rat Ogre Bonebreaker: A special breed of Rat Ogre that has soaked in growth vats for far too long. They are hunched bent figures of immense size only so because there are so many muscles bulging in so many places it cannot possibly stand completely upright. And have platforms wielded, stitched or hammered in place on their backs so that one may ride on top of it. It costs a monstrous load to buy, requiring the death of thousands of Skavenslaves.

War-Litter: Some esteemed Dwarf leaders use a pair of Shield Bearers when they go to war. They are Dwarves who hold a massive body-sized shield on their shoulders, trained to shift and balance their warrior-king and allow him to fight on an upper platform of sorts in a mobile manner. Skaven got the idea and will ride on a large board or plank in a War-Litter, held aloft by four Stormvermin. A Skaven with such a status as to use valuable Stormvermin just to carry him around (and act as bodyguards) as if they were slaves is quite a statement, while allowing the shorter-than-most leader to fight on an upper platform as his Dwarf-king adversaries. Great Pox Rat: There are various oversized rats that can be grown and gorged to the point they are size of ponies. Great Pox Rats are abhorrent, bloated vermin, covered in mangy fur (if any is left) and dripping lesions. Their filthy mouths are encrusted with needle-sharp teeth, saber-like incisors and yet-to-be-discovered diseases. Any great speed advantage that would be gained is lost in the cumbersome fat weight of the creatures overgrown body.

Warlord Viskis puffed himself up to his verminous fullness and gazed down upon his Chieftains as they entered the hall through the blasted archway. They were wary, but could not hide their awe at the size of the many-pillared hall and the bodies and

broken armaments in the corners.

Viskis wasnt going to miss this opportunity. Everything was as he had arranged. Black-furred Stormvermin were arrayed in

ranks, formidable in their size and thick, plated armor. He himself, most potent of commanders, was several tiers higher, pacing

on the carven stone dais of the ancient and ornate throne room. The runes of the hated bearded-things had been hastily scratched

out, covered by the markings of the Great Horned Rat and the great claws of Clan Gritus. Warlord Viskis himself was backlit by the sole light sourcea vast brazier glowing with Warpstone-laced shards. Viskis cast his shadow across all as they had to look

up at him, his fur outlined by the green tint of the balefire.

Now, hear-listen what I have to say. Long-long have we fought for this under-lair and now we stand in the Dwarf-things

throne room. Their king-thing sat here. I, Warlord Viskis, have eaten him. A pause here allowed Viskis to turn, showing off his

newly bulging profile. Squeaking whispers let Viskis know his deed was marked with proper awe. The Dwarf-leader was a

mighty warrior and had slain many Skaven. We must take-take the other levels, kill-kill all that remain. Following is MY

plan

But great leader, said Chieftain Sszark of Clan Gritus exactly on cue, why isnt Priest Grostle here? He referred to the Plague Priest leader of the large Clan Pestilens faction, which, up until now had been leading the underground assault.

Grostle fell and I am in command. Announced Viskis. The Chieftains and Clawleaders craned their necks and sniffed, anxious

to see the reaction amongst the remaining Plague Monks.

Lean, agile, cunning and surprisingly well-trained for a Skaven underling, Night Runners serve as the lowest rank of Clan Eshin. Working their way to become the best warriors in use of poisons, theft and acts of sabotage that would their Assassin overseers. They are secretive, as all are devoted to Clan Eshin. They usually employ the use of two small swords or daggers, learning to hone their combative skills. Utilizing the Skavens quick reflexes to full potential, Night Runners are lethal close combatants to regular infantry. For point-defense and silent attack, Night Runners employ the use of poisoned throwing stars, capable of killing a man within a minute of the delivery, aiming for the neck, eyes and vulnerable areas in armor. They can also carry slings on their person to begin learning the use of ranged accuracy. Sending a mass of large rocks into weak points on war machine structures and slaying poorly armored elites.

Small units of Night Runners sneak from the shadows to seize key terrain features, while larger blocks are sent ahead of the main Skaven force to harass and slow down the foe. Typically they will slink off to the armys flanks, hoping to lure a pursing foe into a hastily prepared ambush. Casualties are high in Night Runner groups, and understandably so. The Clan Eshin masters are purposefully weeding out the weak and the ill-prepared so that only the best of their kind can advance to Nightleaders (those who lead groups of Night Runners) and then to Gutter Runners. Working in conjunction with more expert Clan Eshin agents, they will expose themselves and lure foes into the real attack set by the experienced. Occasionally they are equipped with a Warp-grinder tunnel maker to give them the advantage of burrowing beneath the foe to pop out into an unexpected area, emerging on the enemys flank or rear. While it is moderately rare, they can be seen grouped in large numbers as Clan Eshin, often to make a point or sow the most horrible of confusion, send an entire army of Clan Eshin agents. These armies always attack in the darkness of night, and when the sun rises, there is little evidence of their passing, as weapons and bodies are carefully removed with an assassins touch.

Once a Gutter Runner has proven he is skilled, crafty, and cunning enough to survive as a Nightleader he will than ascend as a Gutter Runner. By this point the Gutter Runners reflexes have improved to the point that in terms of sheer dodging capability they are as capable as the mysterious Nipponese shadow organizations that first influenced his clan long ago. To the Gutter Runner his agility has become his own form of armor, for what is the best defense than never getting hit by a blow? Deathrunnersaspiring assassins and leaders of the gutter runner claws (Skaven term for squads) possess even greater dodging ability. This agility too manifests in their incredible stealth, said to allow them to ambush even the most wary of foes. The focus of the Gutter Runner has been improved as well, allowing them to tune out all noise to pick out a single voice in a crowd.

Gutter Runners are the standard operators of Clan Enshin, the groups tasked with most of their secretive work. While hordes of Night Runners are used for low key jobs and distraction at best it is the job of the Gutter Runners to carry out the most important work. They are the main assassins, saboteurs and espionage of Clan Enshin. It was they who have destroyed almost all written records of the Skaven in the Empire to ensure its people believe they are a myth (though the highest leadership and organizations such as Wizard Order and the Witch Hunters are not fooled), sought ways into numerous Dwarf holds and looked for knowledge on the locations of the entire Von Carstein vampire dynasty. On the battlefield they are usually tasked directly with the destruction of enemy war machines, assassination of up to moderate level leadership, assaulting flanks or rear and sometimes annihilating exposed units. On occasion they might work in conjunction with a warp grinder team to emerge directly in the midst of an enemy battle line. The Gutter Runner is more skilled than the Night Runner and this is reflected as such in their equipment. They may still wield slings or throwing stars though with greater skill- however their armament might also include punching daggers, steel claws, swords, knives, a strange crossbow-pistol device, garrotes and more. Some use snare-nets to slow down battle-hardened foes or capture enemies, while Deathrunner might have smoke gas grenades or even a weeping blade-a sword equipped with corrosive venom to melt through armor. Poison is readily available.

Clan Eshin members can be equipped with special decomposition magic that destroys their body within moments of them dying. Also some example of training one member might go through:

When a Deathrunner comes to be recognized for his great skill at arms and success, his shadowy Eshin masters may promote him into full-fledged assassin, the pinnacle of Enshin hierarchy. To do so the Deathrunner must survive a grueling gauntlet of missions and actions that further weeds down the weak. These missions are not just murders, but range in every form of covert action one can think of such as sabotage, espionage, arson etc. Finally, the handfuls that pass are chosen by Sneek and his ruling council to become full-fledged assassins. An assassin can hypothetically rise higher still to become a Master Assassin, who is not only highly skilled but also an army commander, however these are almost entirely unknown, limited to 13 among the entire Skaven empire (one being Deathmaster Snitchk). It is well that they are so rare, for an assassin is perhaps the greatest killer the Warhammer Universe possesses, rivaled only by the Cult of Khaine assassins of the Dark Elves. Skaven assassins are capable of feats of superhuman strength, are able to jump many times their own height, run faster than a galloping horse, climb smooth surfaces and with stealth capabilities that allegedly allow them to blend supernaturally into the shadow. Like the Assassins of the Assassins Creed series they can easily blend

into Skaven and sometimes even human crowds though the latter is more difficult. On the battlefield this allows the Skaven to slip into a weak unit like Clanrats or even slaves, letting them soak up the fire, before pouncing on the enemy in melee and surprising them with a powerful foe. Skaven Assassin agility has improved to the point where they can pluck arrows out of the air and even at times dodge bullets. Assassins can use nearly every weapon imaginable in their stealth killings, for they are trained in all. Garrotes, Swords, axes, halberds, punch daggers, throwing stars, blowguns, rat claws (think Ninja Claws), repeating crossbows, guns, nets etc. Even disarmed they are a powerful foe for they are trained in the martial art styles of the Eastern lands. A few of Clan Eshin train to become sorcerers, and though their magical capabilities are a far cry from the Grey Seer or even those of the other major clans, they do all know the spell Skittleaap. When a group of elite Assassins combines the spell with their own potent ability they can teleport off around the battlefield getting in ultra-close range to assassinate commanders. Assassins are sent after the most important and difficult targets Eshin has to assign. These can include high ranking generals and kings, weapon depots, ships, factories etc. Indeed Clan Eshins behind the scenes activities may be the single greatest reason for Skaven success everywhere In the End Times. In the Night of a Thousand Terrors a cadre of 13 assassins using long ranged skitterleaping killed hundreds of generals, governors, nobles and other authority figures across Tilea, leaving the various republics weak before the Skaven invasion that occurred the next night. In Lustria they sought out powerful Slann with some success, while in Araby they lead Skaven to infiltrate cisterns in mass armies and poison water wells, leading to the fall of those caliphates. In the East (as revealed by author comment) their involvement was even more significant for in Ind and Cathay they assassinated large numbers of officials weakening the overall kingdoms against Chaos and helping to lead to their fall. The destruction of Nipponese leadership was so pronounced that soon only isolated mountain warlords and a rare few powerful individuals remained, and lacking leadership the country was unable to put up any unified defense whatsoever when the Orcs invaded. Though Clan Eshin enclaves were eventually destroyed by Grimgor and the Cathayan Dragon Emperor, each of the two armies suffered terrible causalities in doing so. On the battlefield the Assassin will be sent after enemy leaders, place timed bombs, help take out key units or artillery, and generally just make the battle as disruptive as possible. While usually the assassin will work alone, sometimes triads

form to take out vulnerable units or focus on difficult commanders. Offensive: Poisoned Throwing Stars, Hand Weapons and more. Essentially any medieval weapon that an historical or historical-fictional assassin could carry, whether European or Eastern (Ninja in particular) a Skaven assassin can also carry. Furthermore they are trained in Eastern Martial arts for hand to hand fighting. Some can carry magically enchanted weapons such as throwing stars made of armor-violating and poisoning Warpstone or small fire bombs.

However as the Fire Bombs are Clan Skryre technologies they sometimes result in duds. Explosive gel also exists. Nearly everything they have is poisoned. A few Clan Eshin sorcerers do exist, utilizing mysterious Cathayan shadow sorcery, as well as the spell Skitterleap. DEFENSE: Exceptional Dodging ability, enough to dodge gunfire in some cases. Some very light leather. Its possible they might have a magical trinket.

Proud, scheming and eternally greedy, the Grey Seers are the chief priesthood of the Skaven race, the emissaries of the Skaven council and prophets of the Horned One. They are the most powerful sorcerers of the Skaven race, individuals who command the respect and fear of that species. They are known for their extreme rarity, for they are a special breed of Skaven born with both horns and white fur. They can and often do live longer, capable of living up to sixty by natural means and far more through the elixirs their order creates. That is if they make it out of their initiation phase, for the path of the Grey Seer is perhaps the most treacherous path for any Skaven to take, with peers and superiors doing everything possible to pick off potential future rivals. A Grey Seer is a schemer above almost all others of his race, for

unlike the rest he has the full backing of both the council (most of the time) and his own magical prowess. A Grey Seer can wield the councils influence like a bludgeon; threatening warlord clans with excommunication should they fail to heed his directives. This would serve as a death sentence to that clan, as all opportunistic clans around fall upon the heretical clan to tear them to pieces. If this threat doesnt work, or the clan in question is too powerful to easily do so with, a Grey Seer can deploy any number of political influences given to them by the council. After all, having the backing of a Grey Seer means the clan is in ascendancy, though there will be a steep price for this backing later on. Should even that fail they can threaten to call upon a Verminlord to decide the dispute, though Grey Seers have more cause to fear the Verminlord than anyone else. (And usually, just the threat of a Verminlord summon is enough to put any Skaven, even entire clans in line!) On the battlefield the Grey Seer usually leads from the rear as is the proper place for a leader. There they will periodically switch between hissing encouragement and chastisement to their troops. If a Grey Seer feels like being useful they may deploy their great arcane knowledge to aid the troops at the front, and they alone may even employ the Dreaded Thirteenth Spell. Grey Seers can use warptokens to boost their magical power however rarely eating too much might cause them to mutate into a Chaos Spawn or blow up. Sometimes Grey Seers ride into battle on a Screaming Bell.

When the Skaven get desperate they can do any number of actions. Retreat (most likely response), sacrifice large numbers of their troops to hit the enemy with a technological response (again likely) or use some other incredibly devious, risky means. But what if all those fail? What if the Skaven leaders, their mage brotherhood known as the Seerlords, are truly left without any options, for a defeat now would be total. What if the Grey Seer in question is desperate either for advice or

combat? In that case the Grey Seers, with reluctance those leaders today might consider when committing what might be political suicide, can choose to call upon their own nuclear option. They will call upon a Verminlord. Verminlords are everything Skaven aspires to be, taken to extremes. Towering, powerful, with strength equal to challenge a giant and the magical aptitude to duel an Elven Loremaster, yet simultaneously subtle and clever creatures skilled in the art of every sort of manipulation imaginable. It cannot be tricked or beguiled, for they see through the most cunning Skaven plans, and are able to smell lies and discern true intentions with supernatural sight. It is natural to see why the Grey Seers are reluctant to summon a Verminlord, for to date only one Skaven has been able to hide his intentions from the sight of a Verminlord. The moment a Verminlord steps onto the mortal plane it can already see the intentions of its summoners and is already working to weave them into their unknowable plans. Thus though the Grey Seers threaten to call open the Verminlords often, they are loath to actually do so. In them all the strengths and weaknesses of the Skaven are heightened to a supernatural degree. A Verminl