The Ratcatchers? Tiny Guild, three or four old men lording it over a handful of cities, that’s all, lad. They pay contracts rather than keep their own trappers – but it’s who they’re in bed with that really rankles.
Wouldn’t like to guess whether it was the Ratcatcher’s Guild who took the first step into the depths, or whether it was the scum who came to them first. I don’t suppose it really matters. There are some people you don’t want to empower, and the denizens of the undercities are definitely amongst them. Most have survived for years as petty thieves, whores, or pickpockets, and they would be considered the most respectable of their brood. Go further down and those shadows hide murderers and outlaws, men and women with a past bloody enough to make a Butcher blush.
And now? Thanks for the sponsorship of the Mortician’s Guild this horde has spilled into the light of the sun, come to dirty our pitches with their filth. Never thought I’d hear myself say it, but I’m glad for once old Greyscales isn’t here, so he doesn’t have to see it.
Vermin, that’s all they are. Filthy, disgusting rodents, more akin to their quarry than to men like you or I.
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