A Rat Squeaks in Nuln...
Part 1 of 2: Above
Nuln, 2481
The
Mountain's Rest was sparsely populated when Gerrick Rediron entered it, not surprising given the lateness of the hour. Quickly he navigated his way to his usual table, pausing to grab an offered drink from the dwarf behind the counter. A respectable inn and tavern, founded by a fellow Imperial Dwarf a century ago, the
Rest was one of Nuln's best watering holes. Good food, better ale, and a comfortable atmosphere enhanced by able musicians and fierce bouncers combined to make it Gerrick's favorite spot to relax after a hard day's work.
Of course, the past week had been bereft of much relaxation given the fiasco that had been the Elector-Count's attempt to drive the accursed
thaggoraki from Nuln's depths. Someone, somewhere in the totem pole of nobility had gotten it into their head to rope every Dwarf in the city to aid in the assault on the tunnels below. This had included Gerrick, and never mind the fact that he'd put down his ax years ago when he'd left the Karaz Ankor. Still, despite the long hiatus from conflict he'd managed to serve ably and well, even when the tide of war had turned against the expedition, and now had been released from service with a heavier purse and only a scar on one cheek. Many others had not been so lucky.
Looking up from his ruminations, Gerrick found himself staring at his empty tankard... and another full one beside it. Opposite him now sat a vaguely familiar manling, holding a tankard of his own. Before Gerrick could even open his mouth, the manling spoke.
"My apologies for interrupting your evening, Master Dwarf," the manling said, looking apologetic. "However, I saw your tankard was empty and thought to supply you with another one, as thanks for saving my life, sometime this past week." So saying, the umgi pushed the second tankard closer.
The words sparked some remembrance in Gerrick. "You're one of them Stirlander mercenaries, aren't you? Fresh from retaking Karak Eight Peaks? I should be buying
you a drink!" Gerrick said, before lifting the offered tankard to his lips. "It would only be the least I could do to thank you for assisting in that heroic feat." The umgi only smiled.
"That is true, and it is a fact my men and I have made use of very often on our way here." Came the reply, the manling taking a swig of his own drink before continuing. "However, it is a custom among my people to offer a man a drink when coming to him with a proposal."
Gerrick's brow furrowed. "A proposal you say? And what proposal would that be?" He leaned forward. "If it's an offer of employment to your company then I'll have to decline. I'm already comfortably situated here in Nuln."
The man nodded at his words. "It is an offer of employment, and it does have to do with my company, however, not in the manner you are thinking." He leaned forward as well, before softly speaking again. "Tell me, how would you describe the campaign underground this past week in a word?"
Gerrick scowled, thinking. He could describe the campaign in many words, few of which were polite, but if he had to put it in a word... "Sloppy." He replied. "Really shows how little you
umgi know about tunnel fighting."
To Gerrick's surpise, the man only smiled and nodded. "Something I learned well in the campaign at Eight Peaks. We men are more suited to fighting above ground than below it. That is the province of Dwarfs," the man said, before leaning even closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I would like to change that."
"How?" Gerrick replied. Part of him scoffed at the notion that umgi could ever match dawi in battle underground, but part of him was intrigued as well.
The man waved a hand in Gerrick's direction. "With the help of you, and others like you," the man excitedly said. "I would like to enlist you as a trainer for my company. You need not worry about the basics," he continued. "Most of us are used to similar conditions. Miners, ratcatchers. Men who found they preferred delving the deep to working the earth." Softly, the man added. "It seems our time in the mountains woke something in us."
The words surprised Gerrick, and yet he remained skeptical. "The pay will have to come from somewhere, and I doubt you've much of your reward from Eight Peaks left," he said. "That leaves employment. How sure are you that you'll have employers?" He waved his hands in the vague direction of the Elector's Palace. "I doubt that Nuln will want to try something again anytime soon." To his surprise the manling smiled.
"Ubersreik's assault went much better than the one here. They'll no doubt want some aid in holding the retaken territory," the man said, prompting Gerrick's eyebrows to rise. He'd not even heard that the Empire had assaulted more than one Skaven stronghold.
The man continued, waving his hands vaguely southwards. "If not there, then Tilea and Estalia. The cities there supposedly have sewers like Nuln's, which no doubt have their own ratman infestation. If not, then using them to take a rival city will no doubt make any merchant prince pleased."
The man smiled at his words, before laying a gold coin on the table. Gerrick peered closely at it, and found himself staring at the symbol of Eight Peaks. "Lastly, there's still the Karaz Ankor. King Belegar will no doubt appreciate more swords for his cause, and the possibility of more reclamations remains," the man said, before leaning back to take a drink. "So, are you in?"
Gerrick wanted to refuse, to tell the manling that he was done fighting. And yet, he found himself nodding at the manling's words. The fighting in the past week, he realized, had gotten his blood up. It had reminded him of his days as a Warrior, fighting for the Karaz Ankor. Combined with the glinting symbol of Eight Peaks on the table, and there could only be one answer. He stood up and held out his hand to the man. "Yes," he said. "I'll join your company, Master..." he trailed off, before recalling that the man had not named himself.
The man smiled, standing up as well before clasping his arm to Gerrick's. Mirth and something else danced in his eyes. "Petrescu. Codrin Petrescu," he said. "Welcome to the Ratters, Master Rediron."
Next:
Part 2 of 2: Below
Author's Note
First off, no, it's not
that Codrin. This one's a different person, albeit one who was in on his leader's joke.
Secondly, the Ratters are as Codrin mentioned, those among the Stirlanders and Sylvanians who found adventuring more to their taste than farming. The reason for the name is that they've got professions that mostly spend time underground in common, which when added to the recent assault on the Skaven results in the Ratters. I figured mostly those who do a lot of work underground might have been affected a bit differently by Kragg's runic adjustments than those who mostly work above ground, thus the commonality.
Lastly, yay, I finally wrote this! Weeks (I think) ago when we first saw Nuln's disastrous attempt at rooting out the ratmen, I already had the nucleus for this piece, but it's only now that it's come together, and so well too!
Part 2 will be coming up relatively soon, once I finish hashing out who'll be there and where and when it'll be taking place.
