Rage Across Baltimore
Brickbat's Ratkin Buddies
A homid Rat Pack, friends/liabilities of Brickbat
Brickbat’s old friends/associates are street-rats, young, fairly uneducated (as normal folks go) and most likely homeless. They smell of the streets: dirt, sweat, and smoke, their clothes unwashed and often spattered with blood or worse, ragged like the Ratkin who wear them.
The Ratkin, so the stories go, were given the task by Gaia of keeping the humans in line, culling their numbers through famine and pestilence. In the time of the War of Rage, the Garou sought to command the other shapeshifter breeds, the Bête; in the case of the Ratkin, their skulking ways and spreading of disease and sickness led to calls of Wyrmbait and worse. And so, the Garou hunted the Ratkin, slew as many as they could find, and usurped their position as humanity’s caretakers.
Obviously, they failed.
The Garou by and large understand that not all of the Ratkin dens were found, although the rats have never tried to take back their duty from the wolves. They have other plans in mind. But with the prevalence of rats in human cities, it’s natural to find some are Ratkin, and the Bone Gnawers know them best — although it’s by no means a friendly relationship.
Brickbat had the luck, or unluck perhaps, to have befriended a small Rat Pack in Baltimore. Or rather, they befriended him. They used to appear once in a while to impose upon what passes for Brickbat’s hospitality, and once in a while decided that one of Brickbat’s (or the pack’s) problems is their problem, too.
That had mixed results for Last Call, who know full well the Ratkin joined in their assault on a blighted paper mill — and the pack suspects the Ratkin set off an explosive device at the DNA facility in downtown Baltimore, setting off terrorist alerts and heightened security that have lasted for years. Who knows? That may have been the excuse some other faction, possibly supernatural, used to stage a hostile takeover of the Shattered Glass Hive.