The Ratlings are a diminutive abhuman strain of humanity, standing barely waist-high to a normal man, with a fondness for good food, easy comforts, and quiet larceny. Descended from human stock altered on distant worlds, they have thrived across the agri-worlds of the Imperium, where their small stature and cheerful appetites cause little offence. Sharp-eyed and steady-handed, the Ratlings possess an almost preternatural gift for marksmanship that has earned them a place in the Emperor's armies.
Within the Astra Militarum, Ratlings serve as sought-after snipers, their small frames and natural stealth making them ideal for slipping through cover to pick off enemy officers from afar. A squad of Ratling sharpshooters can decapitate an enemy command structure before the foe even realises they are under fire. Off the battlefield, however, they are notorious for pilfering rations, black-market dealing, and vanishing whenever hard labour is assigned.
Officers regard their Ratlings with a mixture of exasperation and dependence, for whatever their vices, none can deny their deadly skill with a long rifle. As a sanctioned abhuman strain, the Ratlings enjoy a security many mutants are denied, tolerated for their usefulness and their essentially harmless nature. They ask only for a full belly and a comfortable billet, and in exchange they deliver a marksmanship the Guard would be poorer without.
The bestiary continues
