The Great Hall
Where rat-kingdoms hold court beneath the bones of the world.
The Great Hall is a vast interior chamber within the Skaven metropolis of Ebon Cap, one of the most imposing structures in the underground warrens that define the rat-city. In Warhammer: Vermintide 2, it serves as a major combat arena where heroes push through waves of Skaven defenders toward the heart of the Under-Empire. As a location, it embodies the grotesque grandeur of Skaven architecture on a scale that would swallow a human cathedral whole. Corroded metal ribs arch overhead like the skeleton of a drowned leviathan; dripping stalactites glisten with alchemical slime; and the stench of warpstone runoff and rotting meat clings to every breath. This is no timber-and-stone hamlet of the surface world—it is a factory of flesh and iron, built to grind invaders into paste.
Quick Facts
- Type
- Interior combat arena; Skaven architectural landmark
- Setting
- Ebon Cap, the Skaven capital city
- Primary enemies
- Skaven (various castes and warbands)
- Atmosphere
- Underground
- industrial
- alchemical
- Broader geography
- Old World, beneath the surface mountains
- Appears in
- Warhammer: Vermintide 2 (Ebon Cap campaign)
Lore & Background
The Skaven build their cities in layers, stacking warrens atop warrens in a vertical sprawl that defies any surface-dweller's notion of architecture. The Great Hall sits among the upper tiers of Ebon Cap, a chamber vast enough to swallow a human cathedral whole. Its vaulted ceiling is a lattice of corroded iron ribs and hanging chains, from which swarms of Vermin Mousers and hooded Clansmen drop without warning. The floor is a mosaic of cracked flagstone and riveted metal plates, slick with the oily residue of alchemical furnaces that line the walls. Unlike the crude warrens of lesser Skaven settlements, the Great Hall carries the pretensions of a throne-room. Broken banners of green and black hang in tatters. Crude statues of rat-deities—bloated, grinning, many-toothed—flank the central thoroughfare. The air hums with the distant clatter of the Under-Empire's endless industry: forges, laboratories, and the ceaseless scuttle of millions of paws on stone. For the heroes who storm its length, the Hall is both a gauntlet and a statement. Every wave of Skaven that pours from side-pits and overhead chutes is a reminder that the Under-Empire does not merely tolerate intruders; it digests them. The alchemical vats that dot the periphery can be shattered to flood the floor with corrosive spray, turning the battlefield itself into a hazard. It is here that the sheer, industrial scale of Skaven power becomes undeniable—not the scattered raids of a warband, but the coordinated, factory-like brutality of a civilization that has turned an entire subterranean continent into its workshop.
Reader's Guide
You enter The Great Hall from a narrower warren passage, and the space suddenly opens up—vast, dim, and vertically oppressive. The visual tone is industrial-gothic: corroded iron arches, hanging chains, pools of green-tinged alchemical runoff, and the perpetual murk of a space that has never known sunlight. Torches and alchemical braziers provide the only warm light, casting long shadows and making the Skaven silhouettes flicker. Enemies here come in dense, coordinated waves. Expect Clansmen as the baseline fodder, Vermin Mousers dropping from overhead chutes, and periodic heavier threats like Skaven Blasters or a Clan-Sublord-type boss anchoring the end of the sequence. The key tactical element is the environment: alchemical vats and cauldrons line the walls, and smashing them floods the floor with corrosive spray that damages both you and the Skaven. This creates a risk-reward loop—use the hazards to thin the swarm, but don't stand in the green mist while you're reloading or recovering from a stagger. What makes this distinct from a generic Warhammer interior is the sheer verticality and the sense of an industrial machine. This isn't a medieval great hall with tapestries and a long table. It's a factory floor that happens to be shaped like a cathedral, built by a species that thinks in terms of gears, poisons, and endless production. The architecture is wrong—angles that don't quite close, surfaces that are too smooth or too pitted, a scale that feels designed for something smaller than the heroes walking through it. It's Ebon Cap's grandeur, and it's deeply, thoroughly alien.
More in World & Locations
Elsewhere in Warhammer Vermintide
Spotted an error? Know more?
Reader corrections go straight into our review queue. Suggest an edit · How this site is sourced