Skaven
Rats! Disgusting creatures all. In the Old World, the rat symbolises decay and disease. The creatures lurking in the midden and the privy, in the slaughter yard and the boneyard. They gnaw at the dead and at their rotten flesh, and if not prevented they creep into homes and granaries, breeding in warm beds and devouring fresh food. And unlike a goat getting into the cabbages, a single rat in a granary can do more than just reduce the food stores. The filth it carries with it could poison the whole harvest, leaving the peasants with two unenviable choices: death by starvation or death by some hideous plague.
To control the rats, the Empire employs Rat Catchers, men who scour the sewers and streets with trusty small, but vicious, dogs at their sides. These brave men go even into the distasteful bowels of the cities, doing their part to stem the flood of the pestilential rat. Though he may reek of his hunting grounds and his prey, a Rat Catcher bearing a pole with a dozen fat brownies tied by their tails is a happy sight to all Older Worlders, regardless of class or station.
But the Rat Catchers know more than they let on. Behind the façade of grimy faces and hard eyes, they know that something far worse lurks below the streets. Certainly, if you ask them they will deny it, but the truth is there. You can see it in their faces when they hear the scrabbling click of claws
on the cobbles, or when they see the tattered silhouette of some bent creature peering out from an alley. They know there are things that look like rats, but are far larger. Things that walk upright like men. No mere Beastmen, these creatures are far too cunning and wildly dangerous. They fight with care, employ terrible weapons of destruction, and are relentless in their conflict with the surface races.
The wise men and sages, kings and viziers, say that these creatures don’t exist. The Rat Catchers know better. Each one knows a peer or three who did not return from their forays into the sewers, those bodies were never found. They say that these unfortunates were sacrificed, were taken by the Children of the Horned Rat, bythe Skaven.
Naming Traditions
Unisex names
Skaven names are harsh sounding and, more often not, quite short. Their surnames are as vicious as the Skaven themselves, and are usually descriptive or threatening in nature. Names like 'Headtaker', 'Deathmaster' and 'Boneripper' are common.
There were no female Skaven names to work with, as far as I could find anyway, but Skaven names are pretty much unisex if you compare them to what we consider masculine and feminine in our own names. Of course, the Skaven themselves may call each other by names completely different from those they answer to when dealing with other races, but unless one can understand their endless chittering there is no way of telling.
Warhammer Skaven Name Generator
Age of Sigmar Skaven Name Generator
Warhammer Skaven Name Generator
Age of Sigmar Skaven Name Generator
Culture
Common Customs, traditions and rituals
The Skaven have a society rich in idiosyncrasy and customary behaviour. Most of these are completely unknown beyond the boundaries of Skaven society and would probably appear strange, pointless and possibly barbaric to an outsider but are rigidly observed within it and in some cases, this observance is essential for survival.
Flattery and Creative Grovelling
Respect is the cornerstone of Skaven culture. All Skaven leaders expect to be given copious and creative demonstrations of respect and deference from their subordinates. Keeping one’s nose lowered to the proper level at all times when in the presence of a superior might appear somewhat amusing to a casual onlooker, but the constant head bobbing of every Skaven in the vicinity is essential if one is not to inadvertently cause offence. Raising one's snout higher than that of ones superior is considered a direct challenge to his rights and authority and can result in instant aggression and death. However, it is also mandatory to provide the customary degree of flattery and grovelling when forced to address ones superior directly. This flattery can take many forms, but is typically verbal in nature. Offering one's superior creative euphemisms is an art form in Under-Empire communities, especially amongst the Skaven of Clan Skryre. The more creative the improvised flattery, the more likely that the flatterer will be trusted and favoured by his master and thus rise higher in rank amongst his peers. Examples include, “Yes-yes, shrewd-clever master,” “most merciful of potentates,” “killer-killer of man-things,” “boldbrave leader,” and so on. A less savoury demonstration of deference is the ability to show or at least create the appearance of fear. This is particularly important in situations where one's master is angry or stressed and includes both visible trembling and the ability to release the appropriate musk of fear from ones urinary tract on demand. Demonstrating the proper level of fear when your master is angry is an essential survival tool for any subordinate in Skaven society.Genocide and Breeding
Whenever a change of clan leadership occurs one of the first acts of the new Skaven warlord is to secure their future and the loyalty of their followers by removing and replacing all the former warlord's subordinates with those of their own choosing. It is also common practice to kill and devour any juvenile Skaven remaining within the clan warrens. This is viewed as a celebratory feast of sorts, which guarantees that the former clan leaders genetic line is terminated with its offspring. Most of the mature descendants of the previous warlord are allowed to live and kept as slaves by the victors. However, they are never allowed access to breeding females unless they manage to distinguish themselves and rise above their new positions of servitude. From that point on all breeding will be restricted to the new warlord and his favoured minions.Marking
Marking is a common behaviour and custom amongst Skaven which involves urinating upon, or rubbing urine onto, anything that belongs to you in order to mark it as yours. Skaven feel more comfortable when their possessions smell as they do, and marking is an excellent way for them to impregnate their gear with their own inimitable scent which makes it much easier to find in the dark. High-ranking Skaven even mark their subordinates, who in turn mark theirs, and so on and so forth. So, that packs of Skaven all share the smell of their leader and can naturally find each other through scent alone. Skaven also leave small scent marks behind them as they travel. It is akin to leaving a trail of breadcrumbs so they can find their way back to their homes. In some cases, the Skaven refrain from marking their paths, especially when they are attempting to disguise their presence.Nose Elevation
Body language plays a large role in Skaven communication. Posture, especially, is an indication of a Skaven’s attitude towards his peers, underlings, and superiors. Nose elevation has already been mentioned under 'Flattery and Grovelling' above but whilst it is always important for a lesser Skaven to keep their noses below the level of their master, it is equally important to keep it higher than those whom you consider being your inferiors. It is this constant need to review and adjust one's nose height that results in the rather idiosyncratic and amusing scenario of entire rooms of Skaven who are seemingly bobbing their heads up and down at random because each is attempting to give the necessary respect to those above him while at the same time maintaining his superiority over those close by who are below his station.Superstition
The Skaven are a superstitious race with a wide variety of credulous beliefs. Notable amongst these is their hatred of cats, of which they have an almost instinctive fear. Cats of all colours are seen as signs of ill omen by the Skaven, and white cats are especially unlucky. When sacking a village or town, Skaven raiders will invariably hunt down and kill every cat that they can find, throwing their corpses upon large pyres after severing their tails. Dogs, especially those terriers commonly employed by rat catchers, are given a similar treatment. As with cats, birds of prey are viewed with displeasure by superstitious Skaven. It is often whispered that the siege of Middenheim in 1118 IC was doomed from the start after the shadow of a kestrel was seen fluttering over the battlefield. Nocturnal birds of prey, such as owls, are particularly despised. However, not all Skaven beliefs involve their fear of predators. For instance, legend has it that an entire army of Skaven was once lured to its doom by a Human playing upon a set of pipes. The story of the piper is told at banquets, and pipes are traditionally shunned by Skaven musicians as a result. Instead, the Skaven prefer bells of all sizes and tones when composing their own manner of discordant music. Amongst signs of good fortune are bats. Not only are bats denizens of the Under-Empire, but Skaven find their squeaking to be soothing. Many notable Skaven keep bats as pets, and they feed them on blood and Warpstone dust. These creatures have been known to grow to disproportionate sizes, especially the ones that are kept by Clan Moulder. The number three is also seen as a lucky total by the Ratmen. Litters of three Skaven born to the same breeder are considered to be blessed by the Horned Rat.Teeth Grinding
Skaven commonly grind their teeth together, which creates a low, grating noise. Referred to as “bruxing,”. The distinctive sound created by this activity is akin to a rapid chattering. Skaven teeth, especially their incisors, grow at an incredible rate, much like those of normal rats. In order to wear their teeth down, the Ratmen must gnaw upon objects, such as bones or special tooth files. Lacking any objects to chew upon, Skaven brux as required. Tooth grinding also occurs in times of stress, and a Skaven who bruxes constantly is surely in a state of anxiety or fear.Verbal Abuse of Minions
Just as it is customary for Skaven to flatter and grovel to their leaders, so it is normal for their leaders to demean their underlings with a constant stream of mild verbal abuse and light chastisement. In doing so, Skaven leaders reinforce the worthlessness of their servants in relation to themselves. A Skaven who fails to insult his minions properly fails to maintain the proper chain of command. In many circles, failing to publicly slur one’s subordinates is akin to treating them as equals. This is one Skaven custom that rarely goes unobserved.Common Myths and Legends
The Doom of Kavzar
Video courtesy of The Book of ChoyerOnce upon a time, long long ago, Men and Dwarfs lived together beneath the roof of one great city. Some said it was the oldest and greatest city in the world and had existed before the time of the longbeards and manlings, build by older and wiser hands in the dawn of the world. The city lay both above and below the earth, in keeping with the nature of the populace that dwelt there. The Dwarfs ruled in their great halls of stone below ground and wrestled the fruits of the rock free with their day-long toil, while the manlings reaped the fields of swaying corn that surrounded the city with a patchwork blanket of gold. The sun smiled, men laughed, and everyone was happy. One day the men of the city decided that they should give praise to their gods for their good fortunes. They planned a temple such as the world had never seen before. In the central square, a colossal hall would be built and topped with a single, cloud-piercing tower. A tower so tall it would touch the very heart of the heavens. After much planning, and with the help of the longbeards, they set about their monumental task. Weeks became months and months became years and still, the manlings built. Men grew old and grey working on that great temple, their sons continuing their work through summer sun and winter rain. At last, after many generations, work began on the great spire itself. Years passed and the tower reached such a height that the manlings found it ever more difficult to take the stone up to the top. Eventually, the work slowed to a crawl and finishing the tower seemed impossible. Then one came among the men of the city who offered his help in their great scheme. He asked a single boon of them in return and claimed that if they would grant him this, he would complete the tower in a single night. The manlings said to themselves. "What have we to lose?" and offered to make a bargain with the grey-clad stranger. All he wished was to add his own dedication to the gods onto the temple structure. The manlings agreed and the bargain was struck. At dusk the stranger entered the unfinished temple and bade the manlings to return at midnight. Clouds swept over the moons, cloaking the temple in darkness as the manlings left. All over the city, men watched and waited as the hours slipped past until, near midnight, by ones and twos, they gathered again in the temple square. The wind blew and the clouds parted as they gazed up at the temple. It rose like an unbroken lance against the sky, pure and white. At its very peak a great horned bell hung gleaming coldly in the moonlight. The stranger's dedication to the gods was there but of the stranger himself, there was no sign. The manlings rejoiced that their father's fathers work was done. They surged forward to enter the temple. Then, at the stroke of midnight, the great bell began to toll, once.... twice.... thrice. Slow, heavy waves of sound rolled across the city. Four... five... six times the bell rang, like the torpid pulse of a bronze giant. Seven... eight... nine, the rolling of the bell grew louder with each ring, and the manlings staggered back from the temple steps clutching their ears. Ten... eleven... twelve... thirteen. At the thirteenth stroke, lightning split the skies and thunder echoes through the night. High above, the dark circle of Morrslieb was lit by a bright flash and all fell ominously silent. The manlings fled to their beds, frightened and puzzled by the portents they had seen. Next morning they arose to find that the darkness had come to their city. Brooding storm clouds reared above the rooftops and such rain fell as had never been seen before. Black, like ash, the rain fell and puddled in the streets, slicking the cobbles with darkly iridescent colours. At first, some of the manlings didn't worry, they waited for the rain to stop so that they might resume their work. But the rain did not stop, the winds blew stronger and lightning shook the high tower. Days stretched into weeks and still, the rain did not stop. Each night the bell tolled thirteen times and each morning the darkness lay across the city. The manlings became fearful and prayed to their gods. Still the rains did not stop and the black clouds hung like a shroud over the fields of flattened corn. The Manlings went to the Dwarfs and beseeched their help. The longbeards were unconcerned -- what matter a little rain on the surface? In the bosom of the earth, all was warm and dry. Now the manlings huddled in their dwelling, fear gnawing at their hearts. They sent some of their number to faraway places to seek help but none of them returned. Some went to the temple to pray and sacrifice their dwindling food to the gods but they found the temple door closed to them. The rain grew heavier. Dark hailstones fell from the sky and crushed the sodden crops. The great bell tolled a death knell over the terrified city. Soon great stones cleft the heavens, rushing down like dark meteors to smash the homes of the manlings. Many sickened and died from no apparent cause, and the newborn babies of the manlings were hideously twisted. Skulking vermin devoured what little stored corn there was left and the manlings began to starve. The manling elders went to see the Dwarfs again and this time demanded their help. They wanted to bring their folk below ground to safety, they wanted food. The longbeards grew angry and told the manlings that the lower workings were flooded and their food had also been devoured by rats. There remained barely enough food and shelter for them and their kinsmen. They cast the manlings out of their halls and closed their doors once more. In the ruins of the city above, each day became more deadly than the last. The manlings despaired and called for succor from the dark gods, whispered the names of forgotten Daemon Princes in the hope of salvation. But none came, instead the vermin returned, bigger and bolder than ever. Their slinking, furred shapes infested the broken city, feasting on the fallen and pulling down the weak. Each midnight the bell tolled thirteen times on high, seeming now brazen and triumphant. The manlings lived as hunted creatures in their own city as great rat packs roamed the streets in search of them. At last the desperate manlings took up such weapons as they had and beat upon the Dwarfs door, threatening that if they did not emerge they would drag them out by their beards. No reply came from within. The manlings took up beams and battered down the doors to reveal the tunnels below, dark and empty. Steeling themselves, the pitiful remnants of the city's once-proud populace descended. In the ancient hall of kingship, they found the Dwarfs, now naught but gnawed bones and scrapes of cloth. And there they saw by the dying light of their torches the myriad eyes about them, glittering like liquid midnight as the rats closed in for the kill. The manlings stood back to back and fought for their lives, but against such implacable ferocity and countless numbers of the verminous horde, their weapons were useless. The tide of monstrous rats flowed over them one by one, dragging them down to be torn apart, the yellow chisel-teeth sinking into their soft-flesh, the dark tufted mass drowning their pitiful screams with their hideous chittering..... Translated from the Tilean tale "The Doom of Kavzar" also called "The Curse of Thirteen
Major organizations
The Skaven society is divided into a series or hierarchy of clans ruled over by The Council of Thirteen who oversee all
matters pertaining to the Skaven, from hatching terrible plots to initiating an offensive against one of the hated Human cities on the surface.
The Council of Thirteen
The Council consists of the Warlords of the Four Great Clans plus seven other lesser Warlords. The Seer Lord claims the twelfth seat, and the Council reserves the thirteenth seat for the Horned Rat. No others are permitted to sit in his place. To do so would be heresy. Though largely symbolic in nature, it is said that the Horned Rat’s seat is occasionally taken by a shadowy figure with luminous green eyes. Whether this is an avatar of the Horned Rat or merely a Warpstone-induced hallucination is unknown.The Four Major Clans
The four major Skaven clans could be considered synonymous with the human concept of the Guild, as each is dedicated to a particular craft and provides specialist skills to the community both in times of peace and conflict.Clan Eshin
It is said that in the early period of Skaven history, the founders of Clan Eshin were driven away to the far eastern lands of the The Known World. Nothing was heard from the Eshin and the clan was thought to have been wiped out and lost forever. Then after hundreds of years, the Clan mysteriously returned to Skavenblight to offer its allegiance to the Lords of Decay. The time spent exploring the lands of Nippon, Ind, and Cathay had served the Eshin well, for the clan had gained significant training in the arts of stealth and assassination. The assassins of Clan Eshin are rightly feared by all Skaven. They come silently, dispense death with uncanny accuracy, and return to their warrens with their foes none the wiser. Their methods are seemingly supernatural, and the shadows appear to cling to them like spider webs. Rarely are their faces shown, for they hide them behind cowls and masks. Clan Eshin is not merely a den of assassins. Because of their stealth, their fighters are also prized as spies and scouts. Eshin sells its services to the Warlords, offering skirmishers and light troops that can infiltrate the rear of an enemy’s line to scout enemy formations or dispatch enemy leaders, wizards, and other valuable assets. Eshin also maintains a powerful cadre of informants from which they draw a great deal of useful information. Eshin is shrouded in mystery, much more so than the other Great Clans. Little is known about the clan’s inner workings, and this information is well-hidden from prying eyes and ears. Skaven who learn too much about the assassins usually wind up dead, or worse, which ensures that the clan will sustain its secrecy in the centuries to come.Clan Moulder
Clan Moulder holds Hell Pit as their home and lair. The mines of this teeming Skaven metropolis are rife with Warpstone, and it is this material that is used to such excellent effect in the clan’s horrific work. The Master Moulders meld flesh and bone like clay, breeding or building beasts that can be used to bolster their armies. Given their exposure to the same mutating Warpstone they use in their experiments, the Master Moulders are something more (or less) than typical Skaven. Stories are told of Skaven Mutants that fly the banners of Clan Moulder, their bodies warped, twisted, and armoured, surgically-altered or hideously transformed. The Master Moulders tinker with the anatomies of creatures in much the same way that Clan Skryre’s Warlock Engineers fiddle with mechanical war machines and the end results of these biological experiments are often just as terrifying. Giant rats and Rat Ogres are just two awful examples of Clan Moulder’s ingenuity. Not only can the denizens of Clan Moulder create monsters well suited to warfare, but they have also learned to control them. The Clan’s Packmasters, wielding whips with exceptional skill, can drive Rat Swarms, Giant Rats, and Rat Ogres into the teeth of oncoming enemy formations where they can inflict the most damage. Off the battlefield, the Packmasters train their beasts to fight by pitting them against one another. The skilled and strong survive, the weak and wounded die.Clan Pestilens
The plague-ridden monks of Clan Pestilens emerged from the Lustrian rain forests centuries ago. Their initial contacts with the Under-Empire were less than peaceful, but in time an accord was reached and Clan Pestilens became a productive segment of the Under-Empire. Riddled with disease and contagion, the Skaven of Clan Pestilens are devout worshippers of the Horned Rat. Though they recognize the Horned Rat’s other attributes, they focus on his ability to create, control, and spread plagues. The clan retains a significant number of workers, slaves and captives, but the majority of Clan Pestilens’ strength lies in its large number of Plague Monks. The Plague Monks are religious zealots dedicated to the worship of the Horned Rat. Their bodies are riddled with plague, and they are so used are they to pain that they barely feel it any longer. Combined with their religious fervour, this resistance to pain makes the Plague Monks incredibly capable fighters, especially en masse.Clan Skryre
Clan Skryre holds sway in Skavenblight, a teeming Skaven metropolis considered by many to be the capital of the UnderEmpire. Access to the city’s plentiful veins of Warpstone allows the Clan to expand upon the technologies for which they are renowned. The city reflects the nature of its Skryre masters, being atypically modern when compared to most other Skaven settlements. Without a doubt, Skryre is the wealthiest and most powerful of all the Great Clans. The Clan’s strength rests on artifice and sorcery in equal measures. Much of their technology is geared towards war, mixing equal amounts of magic and Warpstone to create weapons unparalleled anywhere in the Old World. Fortunately for Clan Skryre’s foes, their weapons are often as dangerous to the Skaven as they are to their targets. Because weapons are Skryre’s stock in trade, the clan’s other mechanical feats are easily overlooked. Skryre succeeded in creating many exciting devices, from the Warprail, connecting one end of the Under-Empire to the other, to the Farsqueaker, a device allowing instant communication between Skaven over great distances. Indeed, much of the Under-Empire’s mining is accomplished by way of Skryre-manufactured earthmovers and rock drills. The Clan’s Warlock Engineers are constantly researching new technologies. However, Skryre’s experiments are just as likely to succeed as they are to fail often with catastrophic results. But the Warlock Engineers feel that such failures are to be expected, especially for those riding on the cutting edge of technology. The number of labourers, mechanics, and engineers that die as a result of this research is irrelevant when compared to the value of a successful experiment.The Warlord Clans
Most Skaven will also claim membership to one of the lesser Warlord Clans. There’s no telling how many there are, but most believe they number in the hundreds. Rivalry among these lesser Clans is fierce and treachery is rampant. A new clan can rise and fall in a matter of days. Amongst the Warlord Clans, there are a few that stand out from the rest, and their leaders often become renowned enough within Skaven society to secure a seat on The Council of Thirteen. But though they may become powerful they will never surpass the power of the Four Great Clans. However, that does not mean that their leaders cannot become powerful enough to challenge and perhaps even usurp the leadership of their mother clan. Inevitably, should such a change of leadership occur then there will be a shock wave of assassination and death throughout the clan existing leadership as their new leader replaces the followers of his predecessor with those from his own choosing who he believes he can trust.
Related Organizations
Comments