Firesworth, Captial of the 19th clan
If any word could describe Firesworth to the outsiders, it would be hodgepodge, rotten and old. The city had clearly been human during the former ages, with its clean cut stone and well-connected road system. The history of the city however was lost under piles of ashes from the book burning that littered the clans united history. For it was tradition, common practise and to some even zealously religious practises, to burn away all the old stories. Some even say the name ''Firesworth'' was not the city's original name, but the name but the name it was given when the rats burned pyres outside after their conquest of the city.
Its a odd town for the clan members to live in, after all the city was as stated not made for them. Several small stands litter the street corners, with hagglers and sales-rats selling their goods, witch range from legal narcotics to weapons to food to slave rats that had failed to pay their own depth. The several local taverns are staffed with bards and tale-spinners who tell the stories of the glorious rat history to the small females who where just born. Along the shadowy parts of town, criminals fester, whores sell their bodies to lusty females and even a male breeder that has escaped Zzzeaak hides in the shadows (but not for long as he will soon grow to big to hide)
This was all like she remembered it, Amerila thought as she arrived in the town on a early misty morning, walking in together with her Lighting brood body guard, the heaviest of the rat forces. True to their name they painted their two-handed glades, axes and swords with blue lighting warpaint, as their motto was ‘’Sudden’’. Sadly however it was not ‘Subtle’’ as Amerila wished it was since almost instantly as she enters Firesworth the small rat children playing amidst the street run away and hide from the big scary warriors, the humble merchants withdrew their goods from the stands and hide their peruses. Fearsome reputation is a double edged sword.
Happily Amerila herself was unrecognizable as the Ratkin she used to be. Last time she was here she was a humble female who just gotten herself dismissed by her mother (then herself a servant of the last queen) and ridiculed by the rulers as a week child with no aspirations or ambitions, all for the crime of not trying to play the game of politics with the rest of her race. Oh how by the first clan she despaired for her own race sometimes. As she, in her new garments that she had attaint on her travels, strolled through the copped stone streets she could only imagine what dark schemes lurked beyond every shadow and what dark future someone was planning for her right now.
’’Ambassador’’ the slithery sound and the elongated ‘’ss’’ sound was common to their race, but the breath was not. It smelled of Sliver, the famous drug that several rats was or had been addicted too. The voice itself came from a low-rundown homlessrat with a chuck of greenyellowy rock in her paw, since Sliver was made bones the most easy way to sell it was in rock form. Then the rat would scatch it with her teeth and then consum the small fragments for a buzz. Since it was years ago since Amerila herself had been in the grips of the Sliver devil she could no longer, to her joy, recall what it felt like to be under its influence.
’’Yes my dear?’’ The Lighting brood was already on high alert, since assassination attempts in rat-terms was almost as common as a greeting, quickly moving to make sure the street was secured. Again the part about ‘Subtle’’ was clearly lost on these simple minded warriors. She however sat down in front of the poor rat and inspected her. She had not eaten, her eyes had clear signs of bleeding and through the rags that this rat had for clothing, she could see that this rat had breed altest once.
’’*Hick* I remember…the first clan spoke to me in my dreams of your arrival’’ The Lighting brood had cleared the street and had ensured that no one had prepared a trap. Clearly they could be lying.
’’They did you say?’’ She was now watching the homeless one intensely, trying to determine if it had a dagger hidden underneath somewhere.
’’True as the cunt between my legs Ambassador!’’ When the blood started to droll out of the mouth of the poor one in front of her, Amerlia knew that his rat was clearly under the influence of that rock in her paw. Unless this was a very good Blood Brood agent, this rat would not be able to fight anyone, let alone Amerlia. Instead she played along some more, taking out her purose and handing over a handful of G’a
’’What did they tell you about me?’’. The rat picked up the G’a with the same spirit and fervor that one could expect before continuing with her story
’’Great things! Things of primacy! Things of a brighter future for all!’’ The rat women got up, her rags almost falling up the shame of no-one
’’Soon you will lead all rats of all stripes in to an untold and great future! You be the queen!’’ Amerlia just laugth softly to herself as she stood up.
’’How could I distrust your faithful visions? Use that G’a to buy yourself another crisp’’ Crisp was a old slag for Sliver, and often used by rats of the lower standing. The simple rat nodded and thanked her greatly before slumping down again in to the dirty street as Amerlia left her. As she left the humble rat sang for herself ever so quietly and softly as the time passed away.
She would be found dead soon after, the abuse of an overdose.
+ The broods are being called in to service
+ Rat tradefolk are sent out to seek trade agreements with the other nations