In the dank and winding underburrows of the forgotten sewers, whispers tell of a monstrous rat the size of a large dog—clever, cunning, and wearing a strange golden ring. Locals call her Skiks the Rat Queen, and claim she commands swarms of lesser rats like a twisted monarch in the dark.
“She speaks, I swear it!” a terrified sewer scavenger once shouted, half-mad from fright and filth. “Talks like a person, like a noble with her tail in the air!”
Fire seems to frighten her, and some say if cornered, she might try to parley rather than fight. Whatever lair she haunts, it’s likely near something the city has forgotten—or chosen to forget.
Those brave or foolish enough to wander near the deeper tunnels have seen signs: claw marks, shredded cloth, and bones picked too clean. The Queen’s court is never far behind...