"We will bring down their decaying empire and the children of the Horned Rat shall inherit the ruins. I will see that it is Clan Mors that emerges pre-eminent from this extermination. Finish them quickly. Go to help the others complete the tasks they will not be able to finish on their own. Clan Mors must look strong. Clan Mors must be victorious!"
- —Lord Gnawdwell, Warlord of Clan Mors.[2a]
Warlord Gnawdwell, also known as the Supreme and Merciless War-King Tyrant-General, is the current ruler of Clan Mors and a member of the Council of Thirteen.[3]
History[]
"I have seen the Horned Rat with my own eyes, you petty creature, and he does not suffer favourites..."
- —Gnawdwell, before having Grey Seer Razzel thrown down the steps of his tower.[4a]
Warlord Gnawdwell has ruled his Clan since the time of its meteoric rise to power, having eliminated several of his closest rivals to obtain such a position. He achieved this through countless assassinations, deceit and at times outright war, earning Clan Mors the fearful respect of the other clans. In one surprise attack, the water supply of a rival was tainted with a foul contagion purchased from Clan Pestilens. Warlord Gnawdwell marched with his Clanrats into his rival's domain, trampling over countless poisoned corpses and slaughtering those few who survived to claim the labyrinthine warren for his own. Clan Mors has had a great influx of new slaves and gained significant wealth from its sudden rise in status, so much so that it is almost strong enough to rival the four greater clans from its stronghold in Karak Eight Peaks, The City of Pillars.[1a]
This mighty Warlord lives within a tall tower rising over multiple layers of cellars and burrows at the heart of the Clan Mors quarter of Skavenblight. The gate to the tower's under-palace is protected by a small army of black-furred Stormvermin. They are among the most elite and fearless of their kind, larger and more imposing than even the famed Red Guards.[2]
An incredibly old Skaven kept alive by the vats of life-giving fluids bought from Clan Skyre at great expense, there is still nothing to betray Gnawdwell’s vast age. He is physically imposing, strongly muscled and barrel-chested, larger than even his protégé, Queek Headtaker. He might live like a seer, surrounded by his stolen knowledge. He might be dressed in robes of the finest-quality cloth scavenged from the world above, fitted to his form by expert slave-tailors in the warrens of Skavenblight. But he still moves like a warrior, yet has the mind of a cold, calculating killer.[2a]
Occasionally, Gnawdwell will call back his favoured Warlord, Queek, to examine the Skaven's progress. Submission does not come easily to the Headtaker, however, and Queek hates the fact that he must prostrate himself before his master. He is confident, or perhaps arrogant enough to believe that he can kill Gnawdwell, despite the other's great strength and experience. Part of him wants to, very much. But he has not yet made an attempt, as something always stops him from trying. A caution that tells Queek he might be wrong, that Gnawdwell would slaughter him as easily as he would a man-thing whelp...[2a]
Sources[]
- 3: Thanquol's Doom (Novel)