Crafter, one of the Secret Council

somewhere in the Ratling Tunnels

The rat in question was currently very-very angry! These guys! These damn rats! They dared to send his materials to Mechanic and Scientist! He had a dire need for these ores! Yet all the metal and wood harvested by Scout’s teams were being uselessly wasted on strange experiments. Or even worse - turned into pretty much useless machines...

Because of that catastrophe here he was - sulking in the darkness, at the end of the deepest tunnel. Near the stairs towards the lowest level.

What was worse-worse nobody in the Council considered him important enough to assign some rat-trainees to the poor Crafter. And the bodies were something abundant in the Burrow! Yes-yes it was not because he was useless - or so they said! “Your time will come - in the future!” - they lied.

Oh, these cold stares, how did they hurt. He felt them, even now. Even when squirming alone.

“Noooo, Crafter. We can’t have you making armor, wasting ore - the Ratlings can easily use their metal hides to defend, they say.” He squealed in indignation. “And what about the underbelly I say?! What about it?!”

“Noooo, Crafter. There isn’t an enemy who can do that.” His small paws hit the ground with anger. “YET! THERE ISN’T ONE YET, YOU FOOLS! Be prepared for the future!” His squeals echoed in the tunnels, scaring the lesser Ratlings into submission.

The ordinary rats ran away while trying hard to not see the raging Secret Council member. There was, after all, nothing good from being caught in their power struggles. Especially when considering that Crafter faction was currently getting the short end of the stick.

“Noooo, Crafter.” The angry rat continued his monologue. “We can’t have you wasting metal on weapons. Our hands are not yet agile enough to wield them. And our fangs strong enough to tear through enemies.” He stopped again, gathering his thoughts and breath. Then continued roaring. “That’s why I said to make CLAWS! CLAW WEAPONS, YOU DERANGED FOOLS! Or even spiked armor. Better spears. Goggles.” He added one thing after another in a quieter and quieter voice. Then he took another breath and continued.

“But noooo, Crafter. There is no need for tools. We can’t use shovels or pickaxes. Or hammers, pliers and lamps. Our claws are strong, our arms tireless...” He stopped in place and started to hit the wall with his head. His beady eyes soon turned teary. “Why nobody listens to me? Has the Creator abandoned his child?” He asked the darkness, stifling the rats with his words of heresy.

The Creator was, after all, their God.

As he wailed in self-pity something changed. The tunnels were soaked in a strange presence.

It was a feeling he knew well - the Creator was on the move. Maybe trying another experiment or just ordering some minions to do their job.

Watching him was dangerous, but also profitable.

Last time he had dumped a whole load of sentients in the dungeon entrance.

Earlier he fought the Undying One.

Even before that he uncovered the Big Dark One and the undead…

Yeah… it was more dangerous than profitable.

But still, rats in a situation like these didn’t have much choice.

Knowing that Crafter clenched his claws and ran on all fours, traversing the tunnels in order to get closer to the source of the disturbance. It took him a few minutes to arrive, thankfully none of his brothers got the wind of the Creator experiment.

So the spoils would be his and his alone.

Crafter stared down from the perch high up in the wall.

It was designed as a shooting point, thanks to Tactician instruction.

It also was a perfectly hidden observation platform.

The Guardian room beneath seemed the same as before, baring a stone slab dumped in the back, blood still dripping from it. Crafter wondered what was the source of it and why Creator didn’t just devour it clean.

After all, blood was one of the tastiest parts of sentients to be had.

He blinked and a Ratling appeared in the room.

He blinked again and said Ratling exploded in a shower of guts and gore.

“Was the Creator angry for my earlier blasphemy?” He asked himself in terror, only to see another rat disintegrated. Each time however a red sphere was left in its place. Taunting him. “This Crafter will give his life, his claws and his soul for you, Grand Creator! Please, avert your wrath from the Ratings! I alone am to blame!” He intoned quietly, trying to ask for forgiveness.

The Creator was a great power, but there was a ruinous part to it. The destruction it brought… he trembled in fear.

But soon the show had ended - the Creator seemingly satisfied with random Ratling sacrifice. Crafter made sure that his future cursing was to be kept to a minimum. No need to risk the Master wrath once again.

It all ended when a red rat appeared, twisting in pain due to the Creator intervention. It stared at Crafter, seemingly begging for help, but disappeared from sight soon after.

Before he could process the change two pieces of metal appeared.

And by the Creator!

They were magnificent!

Crafter stared at them greedily, nervously returning his goggles to the right position. There was his earlier transgression, but...

Surely…

Surely, the Creator would not mind giving these ores to him…

Yes-yes! It was a divine grace, after all!

A reward!

For what? Crafter didn’t know, but they were just there…

So easily grabbed. So shiny.

With a rush of courage that he never knew he had before a small Ratling desperately ran out a safe zone. The tunnels quickly disappearing from his back. His form was meager, thin, with only distinguishing feature being a pair of goggles stuck on his nose and most importantly - a lack of the spear thrower that all the lesser rats bore on their back. As all members of the Secret Council did.

The Creator noticed him almost immediately.

This, however, didn’t detract the young Rating in the slightest, as he moved towards the sweet-sweet metals just lying in the open.

It was then when the disaster struck.

A bolt of energy descended from the ceiling, striking him down.

The pain stuck heavily.

“Argh… C-can’t m-move…” He squealed in despair. “F-for-gi-ve, Crea-tor…” He continued, now understanding that it was all a test.

And he failed.

As Crafter senses started fading to the black he felt a strange, reinvigorating energy filling his body.

And the Creator attention turned to him completely.

Which was never good.

In silence he felt the presence turn shocked, then pitying, amused and in the end - simply curious.

Which was even more so not good.

The Creator waited, looking intently at the Ratling.

Forgetting his earlier confessions Crafter stared at the metal ores with desire visible on his snout. Slowly he started inching closer and closer to them. The amusement and curiosity of the Creator peaked when the rat grabbed them and started to run away.

He was of course caught and begged for mercy once again.

Sadly his Master wasn’t privy to secrets of Ratling language. It all seemed like random squealing to him. Something, that was unimaginable to the rat.

Thus the energy struck again and Crafter closed his beady eyes, awaiting death.

This time however the target of the Creator magic was different. The Ratling was safe - instead, the ores were soaked in something that looked like blue energy. They started shining too.

And shiny things were very much liked by the rats.

“This lowly one thank you, Creator, for the bounty freely given.” Crafter lowered his head, now the greatest zealot of them all. Not because of shinies no-no.

The Creator only watched in amusement as the rat dragged back now magical ores towards the tunnel.

He would show them!

The armored rat!

The warrior amongst warriors!

As he spotted one of the scrawnier, ordinary Ratlings Crafter spirit returned.

“Come with me!” He laughed at the other rat dismay. “Don’t worry. You and I - we will create a better future for the Ratlings!” Saying so he moved deeper into the tunnels, dragging the poor creature behind him.

The new minion could only more-or-less calmly accept his fate.

All while the Creator was continuing his experiments.