Long ago, before the Age of Sigmar, in the world of old, there was a young up and coming Skaven assassin called Gnawgem. He was sighted for his talents of murder and quickly hiding into the shadows. He was revered by many…but also feared by his masters, as he could attempt to kill them to take power. As such, they assigned Gnawgem to aid a Plague clan to take out the lords in the valleys under the mountains they reigned. The reason for this is that the clan was led by Pox Lord Golbladd, a crazed lord known for both short temper and a knack of using his forces to test deadly plagues. The Masters thought that with enough time, Gnawgem would die from the various plagues brought to him. However, while Golbladd was crazy, he was not stupid. He would not be used to quell the feud, he instead wants to use the assassin for his own gains.
One night, the forces of Golbladd took Gnawgem from his post and put them on the operating table. As the mad Pox Lord wanted to have Gnawgem forever, he unleashed his most potent and experimental plague he had: the Plague of Undeath. Once Gnawgem was fully engulfed in the plague and had fully ingested it, the Pox Lord tested the plague by stabbing the assassin in the chest. In moments, Gnawgem ‘woke up’, proving the plague worked. The plague also had the side effect of forcing Gnawgem to do whatever the Pox Lord demanded. This control lasted throughout Golbladd’s campaign, but was cut short when an alliance of heroes finally put a stop to the Pox Lord by slaying him. With Gnawgem freed from Golbladd’s control, he made his escape and went into hiding.
Over time, Gnawgem started to gain better control over his new ‘gifts’, as well as understanding of his limits of such a gift. While he couldn’t die, he could still be trapped in spaces and never escape. This is why he focused hard on escapology for several months before returning to his clan, murdering his masters for their tricks and leaving the clan masterless. He could have taken over, but while he was in isolation, he started to feel…bored with his work. The realization of him being immortal was slowly dawning on him. True he could on a murder rampage and go nuts with power, but then what? After his revenge was complete, he now has nothing to gain, nothing to lose, nothing in life at all.
Then the End Times happened.
Gnawgem managed to escape on Skavenblight with the rest of his kind before the old world was no more. Now trapped in a realm of nothing but Skaven, he thought this would be a nice retirement plan. During his isolation, he started to learn more than the teachings of Eshin and instead learn more mundane skills by Skaven standards. This was because there were several libraries of stolen human books scattered all over Skavenblight. He learnt to read and write, he learnt a wider vocabulary, even managing to remove the Skaven quirk with their speech. He found ways to craft furnisher, appliances, weapons, equipment and even instruments. Furthermore, he learnt how to play flute, clarinet, violin, cello, piano and even bagpipes. He even learnt Shadow magic from the last books he managed to find, specifically how to become a shadow vapour to truly escape any situation. But above all else…he learnt about Skaven history and how much of a crap shoot it was. During this time of being only around Skaven, he grew to resent his entire race. He saw them as opportunist pricks with no understanding of power or how to use it. Sure, he did odd jobs to get by, but he never saw his clients more than assholes as a means to an end.
This all changed when the Age of Chaos had begun, the Chaos realms ripping into the mortal realms and unleashing demonic forces onto the foolish forces of Order. Skavenblight also now had full access to the mortal realms, and Gnawgem was tasked to assault the Duardin in the realm of fire. At first, he took it in stride, murdering the beard-things with wreckless abandon. However, the more he killed, the more re began to realize…he didn’t want to murder. The years of knowledge, resentment, and hatred for his race and all it represented, has made him unable to enjoy the things that made him happy in the past. After pulling his blades from the last corpse, he became a shadowy smoke and vanished from the battlefield. He never returned to Skavenblight nor recognized himself as a Skaven. He has become something…more.
Many more years pasted and Gnawgem’s name was all but forgotten in history, just another rat to add to the pile. He travelled the realms, observing the mortals build up their societies and rebuild from the Age of Chaos. During the harsh years, Gnawgem was unable to think of where he could truly fit in this new world. Then one night, he heard crying from an alleyway he normally sleeps in. When he went to investigate, it was a small girl, crouching in a fetal position and crying into their legs. Unsure of what to do, Gnawgem went up to the child, hood fully covering his face, and asked them what was wrong. They said that they lost their home to ‘bad men’, as well as their mommy and daddy, she ran as far as they could and now are lost and scared. Now, if this was in the old world, the child would have just been eaten by the rat, but much time had pasted. He had felt something that has not been felt in a long time: rage. Rage at how this child was without a home and family. He simply asked where this happened, and she shakeably pointed down the alleyway, the ‘bad men’ were already there as they followed the cries as well. The goons said they were collecting payment from the family and were told to leave no witnesses as they began to brandish weapons. Gnawgem didn’t have any remarks or retorts, no quips or cleaver talk, simply telling the girl to cover her eyes. In a few moments, all the thugs were dead, they were unmatched to a trained assassin, let alone one that has lived through two worlds. After the fight, Gnawgem picked up the child and took her to the nearest police station, telling her to go inside and get help from someone who can. Before leaving, the little girl hugged the Skaven, uttering the simple words “thank you” before running to the authorities.
As Gnawgem slipped away into the shadows once more, he started to feel…warm inside. For the first time in the years he has been cursed to live, he did something that wasn’t selfish, wasn’t malice, and would be frowned upon by his kind. He did something…good for someone else, not asking for anything in return. It was at this moment, he did another thing Skaven are unknown to do: cry. He cried tears of bitter joy, finally gaining happiness in his miserable life. He has finally found a purpose for himself and the gift he was given. From that day on, through the Age of Sigmar, he was a vigilante aid to the realms, a hero who used his talents to aid instead of murder. He never referred to himself as a Skaven ever again, simply by the name of Steal-Shadow. That’s not to say he is completely removed from his species. He is prone to reverting to Skaven speech when enraged, and still has the need to ingest warpstone. He conceals this by smoking warpstone through cigars.
