Ratling Queen

minutes after receiving a divine tablet from the Creator

The mother of the rat-kind, the Holy Priestess and sole Interpreter of His Will was currently racing down the branching tunnels in a rather unsightly fashion. Her hurried steps were directed towards the main chamber of the Secret Council. Queen’s large body swayed with every step and rolls of fat on her chest thundered as she desperately ran ahead. Her sweaty form was traced by a group of followers carefully carrying a divine tablet bestowed upon the rats by their benevolent Creator. Despite barely being able to keep up with their ruler not a single one of the rat servants was thinking about complaining.

Instead, they were elated with this newfound duty.

Yes, the relic was heavy and unwieldy. Yes, they swayed dangerously with each step, not to mention how hard it was to fit it into the bending tunnels. Yes, the punishment for any scrape would mean a death sentence...

And yet under all that sweat, grime, and pain of torn muscles, a clear pride in fulfilling the duty given by their Maker was shining through. A feeling of pure happiness in fulfilling their holy task.

Ratling Queen, on the other hand, was panicking, her mind currently in disarray. It was a sudden, raw emotion of surprise, with the added spice of bitterness instead of joy. She knew that the change was coming. After a period of inactivity and development, the Ratlings' resolve was finally going to be tested! The message she received wasn’t clear yet - a longer, and much more detailed investigation would be needed to interpret its full meaning, not to mention a theological discussion between the faithful - but the sheer bloodthirstiness and heavy, cold feeling of danger contained within were easily recognizable, filling Ratling bodies hot with expectation.

“Squeeeeee!” She roared, failing to keep the boiling emotions hidden.

Her cry was echoed by the other rats, curious snouts peeking out of the underground homes. As she moved through the common tunnels more and more of the Ratlings were getting in her way, squeaking with surprise and excitement. It was not often that the greatest of them walked these halls, not to mention the hurry and sharp intention she excluded.

Ratling Queen didn’t waste any time, squeaking aloud to her lesser kin, her regal voice silencing the crowds. “Rejoice, my brethren! Rejoice! Our Creator had spoken! The change is upon us! The Great Crusade! The Great Culling! Spread the word! Gather the Secret Council!” She ordered noisily, her voice echoing off the tunnel walls. “To the Great Hall, kindred! Join us in the hearing!” The surrounding rats stood still for a moment - stunned - before springing into motion like well well-oiled, ravenous machine.

The air was full of excitement, the chattering Ratlings swirling energetically from one place to another, making final checks, fulfilling their duties or simply gossiping about the glorious future.

The way forward was clear and Ratling Queen used that opening to stride ahead. Barely half of an hour had passed since she began her journey and it was just enough time to arrive at her destination. She slowed down, her large body entering the most important chamber of the underground empire with practiced dignity.

The room has been enlarged and polished over many days by the loving claws of the rat artisans and filled with trophies of Ratkind conquests. Broken helmets, damaged weapons, and even cleaned bones were neatly placed on small pedestals to remind visitors about the important tenets of the rat race.

Some represented the might of the rat warriors, their cunning, their unshaken belief in the Creator. Some were different - the only surviving mementos of scouts, mages, and artisans. Those, who laid their lives willingly for the strengthening of their kind. Others consisted of failed experiments, destroyed weapons, and seemingly brilliant ideas turned wrong. To remind the living that the path of progress was painful but rewarding.

One would think that these items were exhibited around the chamber because of their importance to the Secret Council.

They would be wrong.

Neither were they here because it's where their Queen gave her speeches.

This room carried a much greater purpose.

It was, after all, dug out by the then feeble claws of the Council to be that much closer to the Creator’s real Core room.

It was a holy site.

A room of meditation and yearning.

A room of promise. A material sign of the covenant between the Ratlings and their Maker.

And another relic of their Creator was about to join those already present items.

Just behind Ratling Queen's silhouette, a heavily breathing entourage barrelled into the hall, carrying the blessed tablet with their trembling claws and battered backs. Despite pain and tiredness not one of them wanted for the burden to be lifted, their small, beady eyes glowing with fanatical purpose.

Yet the end came for everything.

Even for their blessed duty.

A minute later they were ordered to put their load on the floor and rest. A few squeaks of protest escaped their snouts before a glare from their Mother quelled any thoughts of rebellion.

They executed the task with great concentration, propping the tablet against the wall, and allowing the other rats to see its full glory. The images carved into it seemed simple, and yet there was a sense of sacrum present, a greater meaning hidden just beyond the lines as if waiting for the bright-eyed rat to uncover them.

With a soft *thunk* the stone hit the ground and silence reigned, various gazes licking the relic with a mix of desire, awe, longing, and servitude.

The time of reverence was cut short as a bunch of rat warriors appeared from seemingly nowhere, taking positions around the blessed object and tensing up, ready to defend it with their lives. Behind them a red-eyed Tactician arrived with another group of soldiers, blocking the door with their thick bodies.

“Mother.” He bowed deeply, his subordinates following the motion.

“It’s good that you are here.” Ratling Queen smiled, her large form now safely tucked in a throne carved from stone. “Make sure that no rat approaches the Relic of the Creator without our consent.”

“Yes.” He answered softly while motioning the warriors to keep their guard up.

The next few minutes passed in silence as more and more rats arrived in the chamber. Some of them joined a swirling mass of the common Ratlings just beyond the doors. Others were let in by the strict guards and took their rightful place on little pedestals spread out in a circular pattern.

A constant murmur of squeaks, growls, and roars filled the chamber with a familiar cadence, even the leaders of the Ratling race softly gossiping with each other while sending glances at the newest addition to the room.

Soon Ratling Queen spoke aloud, silencing the noise. “I think we should start now.” She breathed out heavily. “I am disappointed that not all members of the Council deemed this meeting important enough to participate.” Her glaring gaze slid against a few empty seats and those filled with replacements.

“Mother, I believe that poor attendance is because of our Creator's recent moves.” The red-eyed Tactician bowed deeply, his warm voice soothing Queen’s anger. “Berserker, Scout, Scientist, Mage, and Mechanic are already on the battlefield. I and Strategist will soon follow. Thankfully, our presence will be not needed until the last moment, due to Warp Acolytes’ new abilities.”

“I see.” She mused for a moment before nodding sharply. “We have no choice in the matter if it’s our Creator’s will. Yet this matter cannot wait. I hope that their replacements are good enough.”

A wave of bows followed as the rats bent their knees, pledged fealty and touched the cold stone with their heads in a uniform reaction to her words.

“Now, now, children.” She chided them lightly. “There is no need to bow and scrape. I know well of your loyalty, yet now I need your counsel.” Queen spoke, her large form looming over the assembled Ratlings. “Our Creator had bestowed upon us this holy relic. I can sense that it was created with a higher purpose in mind. To lead us forward - into the future.” She swallowed dryly. “But I cannot discern the path that it wants us to tread on, and thus I want to hear your opinions on the matter.” Her gaze traveled from one rat to another, her servants covering before fervent intensity visible in her eyes. “So speak out. Grace me with your wisdom.”

Those present turned their attention to the tablet. On it, a triangle with a pole sticking out of it was drawn, next to crudely carved skull and bones.

The whole picture was simple, yet chaotic.

The first thought of every Ratling present was composed of words What the hell is that?! before their fervent belief squashed this heretical notion. They squinted even harder, trying to discover a greater truth hidden beyond carved lines.

And yet any outsider could point out a simple truth after seeing the picture.

Uno was objectively... not good at drawing.

These words were even a bit of an understatement.

His work was reminiscent of children’s doodles more than of anything else. Not coherent enough, not detailed enough, not thought out enough.

Yet his fanatical rats were keen to interpret the message in the most grandiose fashion. The first one to answer was the Mechanic’s replacement, his wide-eyed wonder clear in the spoken words. “Yes-yes! This lowly one thinks the Grand Creator wants to convey war! Destruction! Death!” A small trace of saliva dripped down the rat’s mouth. “To wage war upon the surface!”

An uproar came from the common Ratlings gathered outside, repeating the spoken words, while their chanting overwhelmed the chamber.

“War!”

“War!”

“War!”

“WAR!”

“SILENCE!” The Queen roared back, her voice immediately taking effect. “I wanted interpretations, not delusions.” The rat in question shriveled up hearing her stinging words. “Next one.”

“Yes-yes!”

For another twenty minutes, various Ratlings were speaking out, yet not one of them managed to interpret the meaning of the tablet in a way that satisfied their ruler.

With a deep sigh, the Queen’s eyes rested on a silent Council member.

“What is your opinion on the matter, Strategist?” She asked flatly, already raising a hand to her brow.

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The eyes of the rat in question suddenly brightened, his dull countenance changing into an overly energetic form. ”Calculating… calculating…” He spoke out, his snout moving at a crazy speed. This lasted for a few minutes, the mumbles keeping surrounding councilors at the edges of their seats. A moment later he flashed a dumb smile and started speaking with a mechanical undertone.

“Prophecy 98% probability. Death 90% probability. War 85% probability. Change 70% probability.” Strategist swallowed, his eyes moving at frightening speeds, reading invisible lines. “Change rising to 78% probability. Expansion 70% probability. Target… target… target not found. Not enough data.” The light in his eyes slowly faded and was instead replaced with a glazed expression. A moment later with a single motion, he curled up and started rocking back and forth, seemingly entering a catatonic state.

Seeing that Strategist finished relaying his answer the rats present breathed out a collective sigh of relief. Only Tactician’s face was scrunched in displeasure as he mumbled under his nose.

“Now I have to drag him back to the command center and stuff him full of powder. It’s a small blessing that he is still somewhat useful, while high.” Shaking his head the red-eyed rat leaned over his companion. “The things I do for the glory of the Creator…”

“It seems that not even his unique skill can help us with this matter.” Queen spoke out, a hint of regret and relief visible on her face. “Still, we have other things to discuss. The tablet interpretation will be moved in time. For now, let’s focus on more mundane tasks. Tell me what have you done, Ratlings. Tell me and fill me with pride.”

“““Yes, Mother!”””

“Crafter?”

A Ratling wearing goggles on his head answered with a bright expression. “The Great-Iron-Thingy is nearly ready-ready, Mother! Soon all will know the glory of Creator and Crafter!” He hissed happily.

“Good. Then we’re on schedule.”

“Berserker?”

“Not present.” Tactician answered swiftly.

“Understood. I won’t ask anything of you and Strategist.” The Ratling Queen smiled softly. “Scientist?” She continued.

“This lowly one will answer in the Scientist’s name, Mother!” A part of the speaker’s skin has been burned by some substance, leaving only raw, reddened skin.

“How’s the development of Green Pills?”

“A limited success had been achieved, oh Great One!” The maimed rat squeaked out. “Most of our brethren are simply too fragile to withstand Master Scientist's… methods.” He swallowed dryly, then continued. “I was informed that our team will search for suitable specimens on the battlefield.”

“Preposterous!” Shouted Tactician. “Are you suggesting to use of our precious warpstone on the filthy sentients?!”

“It’s reckless.” Agreed the Mage’s substitute.

“We need that knowledge! It’s better to gather-get them in a controlled environment!” Disagreed Scientist’s follower.

“A blasphemy!”

“Waste of resources.”

“We are expected not to empower the surface races but beat them down!”

“Need to kill, not ssssstrenghten!” Agreed a small but brutal-looking Ratling.

“Philistines. There is no single way of fulfilling our mission.” The maimed rat spat out his words with disdain, looking expectantly at their leader.

“Silence.” One word from the Queen was once again enough to quell the warring parties. “I agree with Scientist. We need that information. And we can always kill off the experiments later. The Tall-Ones are no match for our magical and scientific knowledge. You all saw it - how they live like animals. Without a purpose. Without a Creator’s light.”

“Yes, Mother.” Both sides of the quarrel bowed, their expressions suddenly calm and tranquil.

“Mechanic?”

“This one will speak in the Master’s name.” A slender rat with a few mechanical arms spoke out. “The machines are ready. We are still lacking data, but we can work out the kinks on the real battlefield. Our warpstone consumption remains below the predicted level, which means more machines and more experiments to be done.” A wide smile appeared on his face. “Soon our enemies will taste the might of the Mech-Driders!”

“Driders?” Mouthed Scientist's substitute. “As in spider-mechs?” His brow rose even higher. “But they don’t have enough legs?”

“We-we are still working on that! It’s the vision that counts!” Sputtered metal-clad Ratling.

“Good.” Queen once again was forced to interrupt the councilors’ exchange. “We’ll see how they behave on the battlefield.” With a nod, another rat was called out. “Scout?”

“Abssssent.” A small, ordinary-looking rat answered the question. Despite the small size, a brutal, primal feeling was excluded from his figure. “We sssssearch. Many thingssss up-there.” His claw pointed towards the ceiling. “Tall-Onessssss, Tall-Sssssshort Onesssss, Un-Tasssssty Onessss. All above. New home. New thingssssss. For the Queen. For the Masssssster.” The hiss was unnerving to most people, yet the weird intonation didn’t faze the Ratling leader in the slightest.

“Always working in the shadows for the betterment of rat-kind. Excellent.” Her gaze moved. “Feeder?”

A rat in a brown robe perked up. “Master Feeder is currently communing with the new plants borne of our Creator.” He squeaked excitedly. “There are many new variants of the existing species and even completely new ones.”

“Useful in defense?” Murmured Tactician.

“Yes, a few of them already have been identified! We also have candidates for new materials, weapons, poisons… and food!”

“Capable of ssssssurviving beyond our home?” Hissed Scout’s Ratling.

“We are testing that right now!”

“New materials?! Are they waterproof?” Added Crafter.

“We are also testing that.”

“Did you identify any poisons? We’re always glad to get some new ones.”

“Paralytic and deadly variety were discovered for now. We are… testing them at this moment.”

“Our newest counselor seems to be a bit lacking in the results department.” One of the rats sneered.

“Master Feeder said that the evolution of some species is not yet finished and the last-minute mana infusion from the Creator can completely change their behavior.”

“That means we only need to wait for good news, right?” Once again Queen decided to cut down the rising discontent.

“Yes, Mother!”

“It’s Mage's turn, then.”

“Mother.” A Ratling wearing a strange diadem with a green gem answered, his words slow and measured. “The ranks of the Warp Acolytes swell with each day. We already managed to unlock minor offensive spells and defensive barriers.”

“Are you suggesting that there are offensive uses for the barriers?” Tactician interrupted the speaker with a strange expression on his face.

The Mage’s substitute stared at him for a few long seconds, before answering. “We already managed to prove their offensive power. Unintentionally. Targeting seems to be a problem, though.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Continuing.” The Warp Acolyte stopped speaking, collecting his thoughts. “We also noticed a curious effect on the Creator’s Un-Tasty Ones.”

“Oh?”

“They… listen to us.” A murmur traveled through the gathering, rats whispering to one another. “Because of this, we would like to formally request gathering a Un-Tasty One specimen from the surface.”

“Thissssss can be arranged.” Hissed the Scout’s representative. “Do you need an undamaged one?” He asked with a vicious expression.

“Complete dead and the torso should be enough to prove or disprove our theory.”

“Yesssss. Conssssider it done.”

“Thank you.”

“Is that all?” Asked Queen, her mood visibly lifted by the works of her children.

“There is one more thing we managed to do.”

“And that is? Don’t keep me in suspense!”

“Our representative was sent to the expanse to test new communication magic. He survived the journey and managed to contact us. Mother, kindred rats, please enjoy… the Snakey-Place!” His small figure roared as the green gem emanated sickly-looking light.

The freshly cast magic coalesced into the air into a small, circular mirror. A second later it glazed over and… a forest of cattails filling the barely visible cave appeared inside.

“Did we connect? This lowly rat needs to make a report!” A Ratling with silvery fur and beady eyes was looking straight into the magical projection. “This one is called Wet Nose, and is currently employed as a scout and Glass Dragonfly rider!” A wide smile appeared on the rat’s snout. “And what are you seeing is a Snakey-Place! It’s another dungeon, similar to ours. But it's filled with snakes, instead of rats. Nasty, nasty snakes.” He mumbled the last words with hatred, as the collective gasp filled the room once again. Strangely, the rat in the projection didn’t react to it in the slightest.

“We don’t know for how long the Magey here will manage to transmit, so this lowly one will dive above the enslaved Dungeon Core of this place. Please observe!”

The speaker quietened down, his tensed silhouette filling the lower part of the screen. Above him, the ceiling filled with bright crystals was suddenly replaced with a weird structure, composed of stone, metal, and strange, blood-filled runes. The whole thing was pulsing every second or so, like a big heart made from granite.

It had a triangular, pyramid-like shape with a metal pole extending into the air from one of the sides. The vision changed, as the Dragonfly slowly flew over the structure.

“Shit! They know we’re here!” A sudden shout had awoken the dazed audience, as the small armored figures swarmed out from the nearby burrows. Shouts in a foreign language filled the air as the few of them armed with ranged weapons tried to swat Ratlings out of the air.

“Crossbows! To the left! To the left!” A rat called Wet Nose was currently swerving to the side, desperately trying to change his mount direction. After a few tense moments, he managed to do so, eliciting shouts of praise from his impromptu audience.

“Hey are you okay, Magey?” He turned back, his eyes widening with concern. “By the Creator! They got you?! Wait a moment… there was a bandage here… somewhere…”

The transmission was cut short as the Warp Acolyte on the other side died or lost consciousness, leaving the councilor’s substitute worried and red-faced.

“I-I’m sorry you had to see it. We will send another mage up there as soon as possible…” The rat’s words trailed off as he noticed the strange atmosphere in the chamber. A total, complete silence.

One of the guard-rats broke the calm. “D-did… did you all see what I saw?”

“The Crusade!”

“Our Creator had spoken!”

“Yes-yes!”

“Kill, maim, devour!”

“Snakey-Place, it’s the Snakey-Place!”

“Hahahahaha!”

The commotion continued for a long time, the rats suddenly understanding where the target of their expansion ought to be. A strange building housing the enslaved Dungeon Core seemed eerily similar to the tablet’s picture, the message now seemingly obvious.

The first Rat Crusade, called by the later historians as “The Battle of Snakey-Place” was now in motion.

Ratling Queen

private chambers, sometime later

The sole mother of the Ratling race barreled tiredly into the room, slowly sitting down on a king-sized bed made out of various furs and fabrics. It was a sign of her station, a rightly earned luxury, and yet right now it reminded her only of the heavy burden that came with leading her brethren.

“There is no other way now.” She lamented, her strong front non-existent in this private space. Only her Creator could hear her now and she knew that he would understand. “The war is now set in stone. We will bleed for our faith and our future.” A small tear slowly formed and then fell on the ground in crushing silence. She sniffled, her bestial features smoothening suddenly. “And to think I was so adamant, so foolhardy, believing that nothing could stop us. Thinking that our only way forward is to follow the bloody path of evolution… Climbing the bodies of our predecessors.” Queen’s beady eyes were filled with regret. “Alas, it's too late to change the direction. Our Creator had spoken. Who am I to argue?” She tiredly stared at her clawed hands. “We have to sacrifice what is most important to us. To become strong. How is it that I don’t mind being weak anymore?”

The rest of her words were drowned in a sudden noise, as the small shadow appeared from the inner part of the chambers before darting toward the Ratling Queen’s body.

“Mommy! Are you back? Was it hard to sit in the Council Room? The chairs are too hard for my butt! Was there anything interesting? Do you have anything yummy? I was bored!” A string of sentences exploded from the mouth of a small rat, as she clung to the gigantic form of her mother.

“My child…”

“Are you crying? Mom, why are you crying?” The small Ratling eyes glazed over immediately, hugging her parent with all the meager strength she could muster.

“It’s nothing…”

“Mommy, why are you sad? Please, don’t be sad!” The child continued.

“Shhh…” Ratling Queen slowly squeezed her daughter in a warm hug, eliciting squeals of joy from her progeny. “Let us stay like this for a moment. Let me… enjoy it.”

“Mommy…” Whispered the small child.

“Shhh…”

“Mommy, why are you so sad? Was it something I did? I will do better! I will be a great Rat Queen, just like you!”

“Mommy?”

“Stay like this, child.” A trembling breath left her lungs as she prepared words that could not be taken back. “You… will be going on a journey, little one.”

“Oh?!” A squeak of interest escaped the child’s snout. “When are we going, then, Mommy?”

“You… misunderstand, child.” Ratling Queen hugged her child even harder.

“Mommy, I can’t breathe!”

“You will be going on a journey, alone, my poor, little child.”

“Noooooo! Not without you!”

“Shh…”

“Mommy! Nooo!”

The sounds of sobbing and cries echoed in the Queen’s chambers that day, before quietening into despairing, tired silence. The duty came even before love and the little rat was bound to join the Ratling Crusade as a new Queen. Both she and her mother prayed for salvation, differently.

None, but the Creator could hear them.

Yet the God of Rats never cared.