Franz Lohner's Chronicle - Rats in the Citadel

An absent-minded man of mysteries, Franz Lohner relies on his bulging journal to keep track of occurrences, intrigues and arguments around Taal's Horn Keep. Sometimes his notes are even useful, believe it or not. The Franz Lohner Chronicles are extracts from that journal.
Oh dearie, dearie me.

You remember how I was saying a few weeks back that our little forays into the Citadel of Chaos seems to have drawn rather more attention than we’d like? Well, my little paranoid musings about his almighty one-with-Chaosness Be’lakor might be the least of our concerns.

You see, it turns out that the skaven – devious little ratties that they are – might have taken it into their heads that they can reach their verminous deity, the Great Horned Rat. Not that anyone in their right mind would seek the Great Horned Rat’s favour and not expect it to gang aft agley, but then have you ever met a skaven in its right mind? I certainly haven’t.

No, the Horned Rat – let’s be honest, insisting on the title ‘Great’ isn’t exactly a signifier of a hale and accomplished mind – is pretty much just a great big damn skaven himself, so far as I can work out from the legends I’ve sifted. Petty, jealous, treacherous, kleptomanic and an abuser of otherwise respectable language. Always reckoned he should be one of the Chaos Gods, but doesn’t have the nous or work ethic to claim a seat at the table. If there was such a seat, anyway. There ain’t, because whether we like it or not the Dark Brothers are a reflection of everything in the mortal world – by definition, there can’t be a piece missing for someone else to fill. Or at least that’s what I heard. No heretical mutterings here, Saltzpyre, if you’re reading this.

Yeah, if there was a queue of potential allies waiting outside the door, I’d accept help from Malekith of Naggaroth, Mad old Marius Leitdorf or a starving crocodile before I’d consider striking a pact with the Horned Rat. But that’s skaven for you – always convinced they can get the better part of a deal even as they’re eying each other up for somewhere to stick the knife. Frankly, I’d leave them to it and enjoy the fireworks, but for the collateral damage.

Anyways, the good news – if you can call it that – is that the ratmen are too busy trying to clear the Citadel’s environs from their so-called allies to really get to grips with anything metaphysical. But there’s definitely a chieftain directing their efforts from those plentiful shadows. Don’t have a name yet, worse luck. While it’s easy enough to get the skaven to turn on one another for even the smallest consideration, the hard part’s finding a ratty who actually knows something worth buying. Little buggers are all front, and I’ve had many a wild goose chase over the years.

One thing I’m absolutely drop-dead, nailed-on certain of is that it’s not Rasknitt. No. Kruber chopped that mangy little toerag into so many little pieces that even if old big-hatted Nagash himself came along wanting to resurrect him – and why he’d do that, I can’t conjure, as there’s no love lost between the Great Necromancer and the skaven – he’d need a mop and bucket more than a needle and thread. No. If there’s a ratman mastermind behind this latest endeavour, it’s someone new.

Or it’s all a figment of my imagination. Spend too long trying understand the ratmen and you start to pick up a whiff of their paranoia. Or at least that’s what someone once told me, and I can’t help thinking what was in it for him to do so? Can’t trust anyone these days. Yes-yes.

Heh. Just my little joke.

Or was it?