After the arrival of the Fire Faith misioneers, my clan stood firm in their old believes, but was overwhlemed and forced to the Clicking galleries of the Dark Below. The clan, forgotten, threatened by starvation, surrounded by untold horrors, became both feared and respected by the Silent Ones. Somehow, they adapted to the deadly miasma and other poisons, and most importantly to herd the Clikers. from who they learned their secret paths.

Recently, few generations ago, a section of the ground floor dried up and a way to the Mall was opened. Small scouting parties, then huntng raids and recenty traders of this stinky, strage rat-folk have been seen in the peripheria of the great clans.

Clan Shrikklik
Fear the Deep-Deep

RICHNESS 2
MILITARY 3
POPULATION 2
CONTROL 3
KNOWLEDGE 2
FERACITY 4

FLAW: -2 Weakened blood: I would take this flaw if you allowed me. It implies that the Clan newborns are diseased, adn their numbers will soon fade unless fresh blood (from other clans marriage perhaps?) is mixed in.

History
Fire priests drove us deep-deep. They kill us, slave us, but we run into dark. In stinky holes, stinky rivers, noise of click-click. Many eyes-eyes, many legs, many Silents, and we fight many generations. Creators forget ratfolk, but the Deep-Deep answers to us. The Deep-Deep voice teaches ancients much-much. Teaches secrets of the scents and the rotten meats. Hi-hi! Now Clickers we tame, and we rule the Rottenbarraghs. But the Deep-Deep pact makes our blood weak-weak, so drink, drink youngling, you soon big-big! You soon ready to raid Above. Hi-hi!
- Matki Hundredtits, breeding and instructing the pups.

Leadership

The Ratthausz is the highest counsel of the Clan’s Bloods, and is dominated by the pious, watchful yet cruel Farsniffarh, Lord of Pipes and Stink, Herder of Clicks’, the Wise-Wise, the Cursebreaker, the Deepsnout. Despite he rightfully rules after challenging the previous Alpha, is is secretly hated by many of the Worthbloods (aristocrats), who lost their privileges after he seized power. However, the support of young warriors, the respected owed to him by the Herders and most importantly, the recognition of his strong blood among the Mothers keeps the balance of power in his favour.

Territory and Ressurces

The Rottenbarraghs lies hidden at the end of a broken pipeline, below the toilet's groundfloor. A soft water current rings debris, corpses and sometimes treasures to the Puaghpools. Around it, the Litterholzs house the Breeders. Facing the Mouldyrrun, as the main pipe is known, in the oposite side of the lake, there is the Ratthausz, where all the Bloods assemble. Branching from the Rottenbarraghs, myriads of pipes and secret paths lead to the Aboveworld. Many of them have been blocked and host heards of Clikers, other lead to the unkown depths, from which few have ever returned.

Culture and Faith

The trauma of exile and the conviction that the Shrikklik Clan was forsaken by the ancients is reflected in their anguishing fear towards the Deep-Deep. Rather than a religion, a series of superstitions and myths about the dangers, inhabitants, and accursed secrets were grown around the double-sided anguish and veneration of the Deep-Deep.

In their seclusion, they learned to hunt the Silent Ones, and to trick them and herd them using smells. They learned to make chitin crafts and to dose the poisons and drugs of the Silent Ones. Medicines were needed indeed, for the Clan became sickened by the foul air. Pests, malformations accurse the barren wombs of the females.

Mice are only now being taken as thralls, after trading with other clans, and are coveted by Worthbloods.

Although seen as a strange folk, the Shrikklik have quickly adapted to the Now-Now times. They are seen as not trustworthy, yet their chitin crafts and medicines are appreciated. Hungry and poor as they are, one can cheaply hire their raiders with the lure of treasure. It is rumoured that travellers who have unsuspectedly approached their secret passageways have ended up being macabrely sacrificed to please the Deep-Deep.

Army and Warriors

Each Mother is responsible for instructing her pups, selecting them for the working caste or mustering them as warriors. Among their litter, They carefully choose the best males to mate, expecting her litter to distinguish itself and bring honor to herself and the clan. Wealthier Mothers can provide beyond traditional chitin equipment, and they gift metal to the worthiest pups. Truth is, other clans with modern technology our superior could outmatch Shrikklik forces, but the intense training and their mastery at War-Insect breeding, fanatic raiders and skirmish and sly tactics make them able to stand ground. Some of their most notable warriors are:

- Pikemane: Basic rat recruits, young but eager, lightly armoured, with chitin shields and often long reach weapons.
-Bugcrackers: Veteran insect hunters, they are heavily protected with chitin cuirass and are heavy shock troops. They decorate themselves with skulls, antennae or other trophies.
-Warclicker herdsrat: They swing odour balls, mesmerizing the clickers. At once, a synchronous clicking is heard, and the herd rushes forward, or follows an smell clue thrown by the herds rat. Legend says that heroic herdsrats from the past tamed huge Silents, but these talent has been lost.
-Deepfreaks: These horrible pups were raised by the Priests of the Deep-Deep and trained trained to serve the clan. Few they care for their lives, their minds clouded in frenzy after overconsumption of drugs.
- Shroudpaws: Nimble fighters with poisoned blades, experts in assassination and dirty tricks.

RICHNESS 1
MILITARY 3 ( =2+1 from Richness 1)
POPULATION 2
CONTROL 3
KNOWLEDGE 2
FERACITY 4

FLAW:"Great Hunger, Sharp Teeth"

Small-wings (Robins, finches, and other small birds)
“They came in groups very fast. We soon downed one and found they taste delicious!” - Mil Kar, member of the Savage Vermintide

The various types of Small-wings are wild in their differences of appearance, but they all act the same. They come in great swarms that appear like great blotches in the sky, or so the Clan of Glass would have you believe. Regardless, some of them always end up in the Mall, traveling through holes in the roof. They can be captured but it really isn’t worth your time. They can’t carry much weight and require multiple birds to have a decent amount of meat. If you can get ahold of some of the Blood-wings (cardinals), their feathers go for a decent price in the trading system and all varieties fetch a nice price as a result of their meat’s scarcity and taste. They especially help if you have a Great-breast you want to tame.

Fear the Deep-Deep

RICHNESS 2
MILITARY 3
POPULATION 2
CONTROL 3
KNOWLEDGE 2
FERACITY 4

-2 Weak blood

History

Fire priests drove us deep-deep. They kill us, slave us, but we run into dark. In stinky holes, stinky rivers, noise of click-click. Many eyes-eyes, many legs, many Silents, and we fight many generations. Creators forget ratfolk, but the Deep-Deep answers to us. Deep-Deep teaches ancients much-much. Teaches secrets of the scents and the rotten meats. Hi-hi! Now Clickers we tame, and we rule the Rottenbarraghs. Our blood now weak-weak, but my sons, you-you strong! Drink, drink younglings, you soon big-big! You soon big rat ready to raid Above. Hi-hi!
- Matki Hundredtits, breeding and instructing the pups.

Shrikklik Clan is one of the many clans which were forced to choose the Faith of Fire or face extermination. They had no choice but to hide in the pipes and galleries left built by the Creators in the World below, even if it meant to inhabit places said to be doomed, clickers, worms, and other repugnant vermins. As life in the dark became a constant struggle, as the light of civilziation faded, the calling of the Deep-Deep was heard in the heads of the sickened and weakened survivors. Yet, from hardship might was born, and even if periodically massacred by the horrors below, they endured, and learn to hunt, herd and stalk the Silent ones. This dreadful existence forced the clan to cope with consanguinity in occasions, and thus their already diseased blood was further diseased.

For a time they were isolated, as the mall was flooded and access to their domains was impossible. Throughout the generations, paths were found, and contact with the surface was resumed. However, the other Clans would see this forsaken insect-hunters as barbaric and unclean, and more even so seeing how they went astray from the faith and revered the Deep-Deep. From mistrust, hate arose and hostilities followed. However soon the Shrikklik found in raiding a way to supply their famished pups and in the recent generations they have gotten used to it.

Leadership

The Ratthausz is the highest counsel of the Clan’s Bloods, and is dominated by the pious, watchful yet cruel Farsniffarh, Lord of Pipes and Stink, Herder of Clicks’, the Wise-Wise, the Pureblood, the Deepsnout. Despite he rightfully rules after challenging the previous Alpha, is is secretly hated by many of the Worthbloods (aristocrats), who lost their privileges after he seized power, who wait Farsniffarh to lower his watch. However, the support of young warriors, the respected owed to him by the Herders and most importantly, the recognition of his strong blood among some Mothers keeps the balance of power in his favour.

Territory and Ressurces

The Rottenbarraghs lies hidden at the end of a broken pipeline, below the ground floor toilets. A soft water current rings debris, corpses and sometimes treasures to the Puaghpools. Around it, the Litterholzs house the Mothers and their spawn. Facing the Foamrun, as the main pipe is known, in the oposite side of the lake, there is the Ratthausz, where all the Bloods assemble to decide over mayor matters. Branching from the Rottenbarraghs, myriads of pipes and secret paths lead to the Aboveworld. Many of them have been blocked and host heards of Clikers, while other lead to the unknown depths, from which few have ever returned.

Culture and Faith

Besides what other clans believe, the Shrikklik are not such uncultured beastrats. Coexistence with the Silent ones have taught them many secrets of the World Below and their sagas remember heros excommunicated from the Fire Faith, so in some ways they are close to the ancient ways.

In their seclusion, they became masters in tracking and hunting the Silent Ones, to trick them and herd them using smells, and to make much valued chitin crafts out of their carcasses. Those among the Shrikklik who know how to sneak into the Silent Ones nests find rich food supply and treasures if they can make it back. The secrets of the insect nests and labyryinthic passageways and Clicker-handling are jealously kept by the progeny of those who dared to plunge in the Deep-Deep.

Having to deal with a toxic environment and avoiding extinction often as they did, life expectancy is short even for rat standards. Healthy Mothers who breed strong rats and with clearmilk have raised to be preponderant and pair the males due to their scarcity and irreplaceability. With pests and malformations occurring many pups, when the pack emerges for a raid, easily risk they act temporarily and easily risk their lives in order to distinguish themselves and secure a bigger ration.

The trauma of exile and the conviction that the Shrikklik Clan was forsaken by the ancients is reflected in their anguishing fear towards the Deep-Deep. Rather than a religion, it is and heterogeneous syncretism with the Faith of the Creators, blending in a corpus of superstitions and myths about the dangers, inhabitants, and accursed secrets revealed in the trance of t anguish and veneration towards the Deep-Deep.

Mice are only now being taken as thralls, after trading with other clans, and are coveted by Worthbloods.

Although seen as a strange folk, the Shrikklik have quickly adapted to the Now-Now times. They are seen as not trustworthy, yet their chitin crafts and parfumes are appreciated. Desperated as they are, one can cheaply hire their raiders with the lure of treasure. It is rumoured that travellers who have unsuspectedly approached their secret passageways have ended up being macabrely sacrificed to please the Deep-Deep.

Army and Warriors

Each Mother is responsible for instructing her pups, selecting them for the working caste or mustering them as warriors. Among their litter, They carefully choose the best males to mate, expecting her litter to distinguish itself and bring honor to herself and the clan. Wealthier Mothers can provide beyond traditional chitin equipment, and they gift metal to the worthiest pups. Truth is, other clans with modern technology our superior could outmatch Shrikklik forces, but the intense training and their mastery at War-Insect breeding, fanatic raiders and skirmish and sly tactics make them able to stand ground. Some of their most notable warriors are:

- Pikemane: Basic rat recruits, young but eager, lightly armoured, with chitin shields and tattered clothes
- Bugcrackers: Veteran insect hunters, they are heavily protected with chitin cuirass and serve as heavy shock troops. They decorate themselves with skulls, antennae or other extravagant trophies.
- Warclicker herdsrats: They rthmically swing odour balls, mesmerizing the clickers. At once, a synchronous clicking is heard, and the herd rushes forward, or follows an smell clue thrown by the herds rat. Legend says that heroic herdsrats from the past tamed huge Silents, but these talent has been either lost or never was more than a cheap tale..
- Deepfreaks: These deformous pups are raised by the priests of the Deep-Deep and trained trained to guard the Deep-Deep. They are terrifying berzerkers subject to the harsh indoctrination of the priests.
- Shroudpaws: Thugs, smugglers, couriers, these nimble fighters who fight poisoned blades, and dirty tactics are the underhand of the Farsniffarh, and are entrusted by him to the most dishonorable subterfuge.

Swear-swear you will feed the Click-clicks off their proud rat-ass! - Haranguing the pack before a raid

History

Farsniffarh, Lord of Pipes and Stink, Herder of Clicks’ , the Wise-Wise, the Cursebreaker, the Deepsnout, is not an ordinary rat. He, born weak-blooded, his skin hairless and covered in bubos, was abandoned to die in the Rotpitts. Left unaided in the dark, he heard the call of the Deep-Deep and survived untold horrors. We would roam lost for long enough to loose a bit of sanity, but he was stronged-willed and finally reached the Foamrun.

He overcame the rejection towards his grim demeanour and to his proud behaviour by proving himself the worthiest of his litter. Soon, rumours about this “demented rat” who came back from the Deep-Deep spreaded. He courted and wooed some influent Mothers despite his unhealthy and emaciate looks, for he proved his blood was untainted. Loved and feared by other common-rats, seen as an eerie survivor of the darkness below, and supported by his mating partners, he took the chance that was offered to him. Unannounced, he interrupted a council session in the Ratthausz, and invoked the right to Duel the Alpha. A slight, unspotted pierce with a oozing fragment of snake’s fang leaned the duel to Farsniffarh’s favour, and thus lawfully became the Alpha

In those days, his Shroudpaw agents became feared, for they would punish any oppositor or offer them as sacrifice for the Deep-Deep. While fear paralyzed the conspirators of the Worthbloods, he gained the favour among the commonfolk by organizing successful raids in the Aboveworld, each time more and more daring. Truth is, that although he started to be more and more brutal, he is a wise administrator and has earned respect among the Shrikklik.

Personality
Fairsniffarh finds any kind of display of violence a small crack of his well-earned ruleship, but, he does not hesitate a second to have a discordant rat, a parasytic noble or boastful stupid Pikemane sacrificed to the Deep-Deep for the good of the clan
The descent into the dark below definitely left a mark on him, twisting his rat soul to monstruous limits. Sharply clever, yet ruthless and tainted, he has ascended to the top of Shrikklik society both because he wished to prove himself back into the pack, but also to purge away the filth the Clan has accumulated. Fairsniffarh finds any need of reasuring his power with violence an annoying fisure of his well-earned ruleship, but he does not hesitate to have a discordant rat, a parasytic noble or boastful stupid Pikemane sacrificed to the Deep-Deep for the sake of the clan

When addressing his subjects, his pretends great devotion to the faceless Deep-Deep, as a well-built character of a mystic charlatan able to seduce the pack with empty promises. He can get to feel compassion, or even empathy to those brave and skilled rats (even from outside the clan), but does not tolerate mediocrity in his closest ranks. In the recent times he has become accommodated though, as years maim his already ruined body and mind.

Appearance

His black fur has many thinnings and for the most part his skin is naked, when not covered in bubes or wounds. He is thin and not larger than most rats, yet his foul appearance makes it for his lack of physical noteworthiness, and is an essential cause behind the aura of fear and admiration he evokes to the Clan. When speaking, sharp, yellowish, long tusks can be seen, which along his long brisks give the lugubrious figure a brisk look.

May the Light-Light Guide Us-Us!





Tizen was a student at a Oroglian school owned by one of the merchant families when heard stories of El Dorato, a place of immeasurable prosperity and wealth. He managed to convince a small group of other rats to go with him on an expedition to the City of Glass, which he thought was one and the same as El Dorato. When they got to the roof to continue their journey, the expedition found themselves trapped by Dark-wings. Tizen remembered some of the things he had learned in school and fashioned sharp things out of glass shards and they drove the Dark-wings off. They then found some plants that had grown and realized that El Dorato was a metaphor. In coming to the roof, they had made their own paradise very possible. Tizen was selected as the leader and the Bounty of the Glass was formed.



Tizen is very wise, yet does not like formality for he has found that formality slows things down. He has seen how Clans decay under the rule of tyrants and does not want the same thing to happen to the Clan of Glass. Above all else, he wishes to simply become one with the Light when he passes.



Tizen looks a tad gray as a result of the “age” he has experienced. He wears a cotton cape purchased from Origlio that was custom-made. It is dark green with a yellow circle near the top, representing the Clan’s source of food and their main religion. Beneath the circle is a bird, to represent the Dark-wings and how they are beneath the Light. Should he feel the need to go to one, he travels to meetings between Clans on a Dark-wing the Clan has stuck a deal with. It works for them, and in return, they feed it the other Dark-wings they fall. If he ever has to fight, he wields a sword made with a special, reflective glass they raided from below (a shard of a dvd).



Tizen has a great relationship with his son. Seeing as how his son is attending school in Origlio, he sometimes receives drawings of various contraptions. When he puts one of them together, the BotG finds that they have just built a weapon and he sends payment for his son to continue his classes.

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<sub>Frostkeep has allowed the Whitepelts to store surplus food for years, as well as trade ice. Slaves perform all menial labor, allowing Whitepelts not stationed as slavemasters the free time to raid, trade, and scavenge for food.


Clan Whitepelt's army mostly relies on organized rows of phalanxes, and a cultural belief in destiny and a warrior's afterlife if these phalanxes fail. Aside from their standing army, the harsh martial culture followed by the Whitepelts ensures they are almost always armed.


Aside from the many rats within Frostkeep and their slaves, there are many small packs of Whitepelt traders, bandits, and slavers within the Mall. Their only true territory is Frostkeep, though the hallway leading to it is avoided by anything with sentience. The surrounding area is only unofficially their territory,
decorated with their sigil graffiti'd across random surfaces, though those quick, stealthy, or foolhardy enough manage to steal armfuls of their crops every few fortnights.


Due to their cultlike teachings, the elders and war-king maintain absolute control over the Whitepelts, though the Whitepelts are outnumbered by slaves who are double their number.


Aside from the use of Wiremagicks to open Frostkeep's door, the Whitepelts have a thin grasp of technology, and are fairly barbaric for all their trappings of civillization.


The Whitepelts are hated for their belief of superiority, but feared for their savagery. They frequently enslave captured enemies, using them for menial labor, food, or clothing to protect from their cold environment. The hall leading to Frostkeep is decorated with the crucified remains of hundreds of rats, which serve as a grim warning. Their weapons and armor are decorated with bones, their blades are tipped with the feces and offal of their diseased thralls, and their prowess in battle is known on each floor.



The Whitepelts are universally hated for their pompous nature, practice of rat-slavery, and deceitful ways. Rats are only willing to trade with them when they need to.


Given that they keep captured mice and rats as slaves alike, there is a slowly-growing uprising movement within the ranks of the Whitepelt's many, many thralls.


While acknowledging that something created The Mall, Whitepelts believe they are the chosen ones of that something. Naturally, zealous rats don't take kindly to that, be they followers of the Creators or believers of the Faith of Fire.</sub>