Necromunda Total War: Rustholm IC [Archive] - Giant in the Playground Forums

Icedaemon

2012-08-06, 03:50 PM

Anna mutters swearwords that would make most imperial guardsmen blush, looking at the faded booklet again. Whatever mad bastard designed the transit tunnels had an obsession with triple-reduncancy when it came to setting up the maintenance shafts. While this does mean that even the centuries of neglect have not managed to seal off all access routes, reading the map of the tunnel network, a small booklet in a dozen different colours, is not easy. She knows that she and the fraction of the group entrusted to her are not making the same speed the larger group led by Rambrand himself can reach. This was why she set out first, but even so the others would probably catch up soon.

Rambrand, meanwhile, was going over his set of plans. Not one to focus wholly on one scheme, he was considering the options his lot could go for should they reach Delaque assets without encountering their neighbors. A raid on one of the many hab domes the Unfolding Shadow allegedly controls would definitely terrify enemies and show that the Tunnel Foxes mean business, but such an overtly hostile stunt would probably draw the ire of more than just the Delaque gang. Doing anything which might antagonize the arbitrators or worse, the guilders while his little lot is still relatively untried would in all probability lead to more trouble than they could handle. Therefore, that plan is labelled at 'C' or so. Trying to cut the Dirty Den off from the rest of Delaque territory seemed to be the best bet. As plan 'A', the two-pronged attack he had come up with should work just fine and secure a lovely source of revenue to boot. Of course, finding the patrol route the Unfolding Shadow must surely take every so often to safeguard their rather expansive and vulnerable turf and laying an ambush was also a feasible idea and while not his first choice, still something he believes he is able to opt for. A solid enough plan 'B' - at the least amusing if they could pull a sneak attack on a Delaque gang.

Whatever the case, they needed to get to a secure location first. He, Anna and the sisters had been at the bus stop before. The Rimwards side of Rustholm had been Van Saar-friendly for a long time. The Red Reapers had held this area as well, in their prime controlling a holestead and a mine very close by indeed. Junior members had often been sent to use the bus stop's building as a watch tower. He remembers his first lengthy chat with Anna happening while the former member of house Escher was still seen as an untrustworthy merc hired to fill in a gap which yet another loss to the Stainless Steel Rats had led to.

Walking close by and clearly following landmarks she recognized more than his footsteps, it seemed obvious that Liria also knew the way. Given how the holestead her parents had made was so close to this place, she probably knew the bus stop even before she was recruited by the Reapers.

Entering the dome, the Foxes kept to cover. While Rambrand does consider this structure a part of their turf, the Delaques had been spotted nearby once before. Rumours that the Unfolding Shadow might think their border runs through this dome - perhaps empty boasts from someone nursing a Rotgut or three at the Dirty Den, perhaps lips loosened by one drink too many, have reached Rita's Rover Repairs.

Anna, having stashed the mini-atlas in a supply closet within the tunnel network, is making preparations to exit the tunnels and head to the rendezvous point. As she opens the rusty hatch however, the veteran spots movement. The others should not be all the way over there. Sure, the figure only glimpsed could just be a random scavenger, but it might just as well be a member of Unfolding Shadow unaware of her presence, insofar. Thus, she changes her plans. While a chance encounter had not been Rambrand's most favoured plan, the gang champions had discussed just such an eventuality and agreed to something of a plan. Anna at the least appreciates the honour of open combat enough to smile, though not insomuch as to give away her position via shouting. Instead, she simply ducks back into the hatch and whispers to the pair accompanying her.

"Hammer and anvil, jus' like in practice, remember?"

While Rambrand's lot might not have noticed the foes quite as soon, their careful approach at the least ought to keep the very worst fire off them, should they be spotted. The Hammer and Anvil stratagem is a one of the oldest within the Tunnel Foxes repertoire, more designed for chance encounters during a patrol than running into an enemy gang on their way to a raid, but one which should work well enough once battle starts, hopefully.

Papa Doc

2012-08-06, 07:25 PM

"Fahaaaaaaaawwwghhgk." Lark tries to bark orders, but is still winded by the essentially superficial burns to her ribcage.

"Fall back." Skrugg seemed a new man, his hands flying immediately to check the magazine and action of his autogun without touching any of the hot parts. He was calm, methodical, and already moving away. Without more than a nod, Karra rushed over to try to scoop Lark up, settling instead for gently helping her walk. "Let's go. Rumor has it there's some new enforcers on the block, and nobody is friendly to the guy that just won a gunfight."

Hovath started to holster his pistol, but earned a haymaker to the temple for his pains. Suddenly he was staring down the barrel of a still-cooling autogun. "You get one more chance, kid. Lark did her job, and she took fire. Karra jumped in there and fought off two-to-one, and managed to do it with a single pistol. I killed a damn heavy before he could get in and roast your ass alive, and what did you do. You couldn't even keep you pistol working. I had better see you sitting down with Grimm and Brimm and learning how to take care of your damn weapon."

"You gonna shoot me over a damned jam, Skrugg?"

"No. Everyone gets one. You end up worthless in another fight, and you and your little pistol can fend for yourselves."

Back in the center of Hope, at the Men of Iron Salvage Office Corbin greeted his street soldiers with the traditional gifts of Wildsnake and hookers. "I'm proud of you. Today we saw several of you tried by fire. When an Ironman is wounded, the other Ironmen come to his or her aid. When an enemies threaten, Ironmen work together, and I'll be damned if one of our newest members didn't get his first kill today. Skrugg, come here!"

Skrugg swaggered to the center of the room and hoisted his rifle over his head. "ORRRRRRRRRRRRLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCK!!!!!" he bellowed by way of a warcry.

Corbin stepped forward and raised his chainsword with one hand. "Today we struck a blow against those Cawdor bastards. Skrugg showed us all what it means to be a Man of Iron, and it is my pleasure to pronounce him a full-fledged member of this gang. Skrugg, tonight is yours to yourself. Take two of the juves with you and do as you see fit. I name you Skrugg Flamekiller, bane of Cawdor. Tonight we drink, we eat, and we celebrate. Tomorrow, the rest of you go to work!" His declaration was met with cheers and groans alike, and he let the revelers go about their business. The conspicuous absence of Lark and Karra was not lost on him. He mused that his strong right hand might be on the path to love once again. Skrugg would make a goo dleft hand, so long as his rigid manner could complement his other gangers. He had chosen well in Skrugg Flamekiller.

Etcetera

2012-08-07, 04:33 AM

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the name of the Emperor, who watches over us (although perhaps not as much as he should), to mourn the untimely death of Albert Dunhill. Albert was a family man, who lived life with a smile on his face and a gun in his hand, never afraid to go the extra mile to save others from themselves. Unfortunately, he was unable to save himself from others.

Some may say that going to battle with 13% of your blood by weight consisting of promethium was a bad idea. But Albert was never one to listen to naysayers and doubting Thomases... Thomas'? Anyway. His faith never deserted him, even when his internal organs did. He's now painted across a better place, although Emperor willing we hope to have the worst of the stains out by next week.

He died a hero and a warrior, the way he would have wanted. He died honourably. He died as an example to us all of how to live our lives - with less inflammable liquid in our veins, but also as tireless servants to the Emperor. And tomorrow, at the dawn of a new day, his friends and family with give him the requiem he always wanted.

WITH FIRE AND SWORD WE WILL DRIVE THE APOSTATES FROM OUR PROMISED LAND AND WREAK GLORIOUS VENGEANCE FOR THEIR SINS!

Also, everyone meet Albert Dunhill senior. He's come all the way from the mid-hive to take vengeance on the bastards who killed his son. Albert, if you don't know where anything is, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the other boys."

Fremen

2012-08-07, 12:03 PM

"Slow down, and tell me again," Caesar said slowly, his patience clearly waning.

Mange nodded, his thin, matted beard shaking as he caught his breath, leaning his thin frame on his home-made scattergun. "Gangers, boss, bunch o' 'em. You know the kind, what wear the masks?"

Caesar nodded thoughtfully. "Caws..." he muttered softly.

He looked at what remained of his gang, the scraggly bunch looking at him, not saying a word. Those who had guns of any sort held them close, not trusting their comrades not to steal them and make off into the night. Only the scalies looked at ease, with Lizard seeming to be almost bored, while Zeus looked positively excited. Again Caesar shuddered involuntarily, well aware of just what Zeus was looking forward to.

He looked out at the beautiful underhive before him, full of in tact buildings, streets that could be identified as such, and rooms which could easily be called habitable. All luxuries virtually unknown to scavvies. He licked his parched lips beneath his mask, inadvertently fogging the broken glass lenses. Swearing beneath his breath he looked about for something to wipe his mask clean with, and settled on snatching a ragged scarf from Letch, who make a sound of protest.

Throwing the now dirtier rag back at the scavvy, Caesar scratched his bald, spotted head in thought. He suddenly struck upon a plan. Looking back to his gathering, he grinned beneath the rebreather, "Whose hungry?"

Yellow, mismatched teeth met him in a sea of inhuman grins. He hadn't noticed before, but Zeus's teeth were actually filed to points...

Adlan

2012-08-07, 06:20 PM

Round One
Gutter Legion vs Members of the Holy Flame
Gang Fight

From the Sump Chasm to the south, scuttling into what might, optimistically, be called the nicer parts of the under hive, the Gutter Legion surge forth, splitting into three groups. The Majority scuttle forth into the streets leading too the nest of connected hab blocks, grabbing what cover they may. Others stay out of sight and range, flitting behind the buildings, towards the Rimwards sump pond.

Members of the Holy Flame begin climbing the tall buildings that occupy the Clockwise edge, their Heavies deploying in two groups, supported by gangers, those with shotguns occupying the higher levels, even in the precarious top story, while the heavies are ready to clear the streets infront of them with holy fire from the first story. As the scavvies get close enough, occupying the edge of the dark hab block nest, the shotguns open fire, their overwatch bringing Twitch down with a solid slug fired from Decon's smoking barrel, while Puritanius's hotshot round begins to smolder in an old plastic girder and Death to Xenos bounces lead off the overhead cover provided by a metal walkway above Caeser's head.

Grabber, Hack, and Thump split off from the tunnel like overhead cover, heading rimwards, accompanied by the jibbering ghoul, baiting it with a last bit of raw flesh from last feast night. The go right across the streets covered by Gabriel, Harumash and Abraham's overwatch. Hack is hit by the hot shot, it's fire wrought pain putting him down. Harumash misses completely, the lead slug bouncing into a wall far from it's target, and Abraham's old shotgun, an ancient break open affair, blasts louder than a bolter, Smashing both it's own lock and Thump down.

Grabber takes cover, and seeing his friends down, bleeding on the floor, he beats a hasty retreat in the cover of a side alley, running for his favourite hole. The Ghoul holds it's nerve, if a twisted being such as they could have nerve.

Advancing from the Sump pool the Scaly, Lizard, aim's his mighty spear gun, and sights through a gap in the cover, on two of the masked cawdors. The first, luckless Abrahams still gawping at his survival from the misfire, is brought down by the spear punching through him, sewing him to the wall, missing a stitch through Gabriel by an inch. Instead of reeling him in like a 3 eyed plaice on a gaff arrow, the Scaly charges forth accompanied by Gob and Shivers.

Lurch& Goggles remain at the edge of the sump, clawing what cover they can from the half dissolved buildings, and opening up with their crude autoguns, though they fail to down the heavy, Lurch inflicts a nasty flesh wound on Jebediah, with shrapnel from his last magazine of rounds, running the gun empty and Jebediah is pinned by the fire from Goggles.

Caesers autopistol rounds are the only ones that can reach from the protection of the tunnels, and he provides "covering fire" for the rest of his clan, as they dash across the street. But he seems more concerned with remaining in cover, and waving his arm wildly spraying bullets from round the corner doesn't put off the Cawdor forces, who open up, from the first and second stories shot guns splitting down hot lead which pins the Ghoul across the street, preventing it from joining the Scavvy charge. This might be fortunate, as Obediah sweeps his flamer across the street, getting Caesar, Letch, and even Zeus with the flame's blast, while Waste is bathed with promethium putting him out of action. The Pinned Scavvies are then stunned again, when the more gunfire from the ground floor pours out. Elizah's stub gun brings down Letch and A lucky shot from Thrones Servant wounding even the mighty Scaly, casuing Zeus to cry out. Before the charge could be made by either the chanting Cawdor, or the tall buildings could be scaled on the rimward side of the conflict, the Gutter Legions Bottle fails them, and they melt away from the rising volume of the Holy Flames Hymn.

thegunslinger

2012-08-07, 09:06 PM

The last of the Scavvies melted into the darkness, gibbering and cursing thickly.
Several of their number turned to make obscene gestures at the Cawdors - their leader pausing to spit and scowl as well - before retreating out of sight.

Ezriah smiled widely - even if Abraham did go to meet the Emperor, this was surely a good day for the Holy Flame. A larger gang seen off with heavy losses - perhaps losses enough that this lot will limp off further into the underhive to lick their gangrenous wounds. Not a bad blooding.

Whistling loudly, Elizah called back the two groups that he had split off to either side. As they began to walk back in, he could hear plain-song chanting from both groups - though he was prepared to make a benediction for their loss, regardless. Nothing like a reminder that without the Emperor's blessing and His light, the Cawdors were no better than the mutant heretics that they had defeated. Of course, the Emperor also had his chosen instruments and on this day, there would be few who doubted that he was one.

To his utter amazement, as he counted the gangers back in, pausing with a grin and a muttered psalm for some, a clasped hand an a sign of the aquila for others, he saw Abraham bringing up the rear. His shotgun was blackened and useless and no doubt he'd still be seeing double. That paled in comparison to the giant, jagged spear-hole that by all rights should have left him bleeding out in moments - if indeed he hadn't been reeled in by that Scaly like a juve with a sump rat.

Abraham grinned weakly at his gang leader, raising his hand in greeting. He was going to survive, but no one walks away from that sort of injury without feeling it keenly.

Elizah returned the smile and turned to his gang 'See, brothers! The Emperor protects!'

Adlan

2012-08-08, 03:49 AM

Round One
Precinct 14 Patrol Beta investigates Suspicious Activity

Heading out away from the lights of Greater Rustholm away from the tracks and noise of the Monorail, the 5 man team, with probably the finest gear in this sector of the underhive heads towards the reported trouble spot.

It was quiet, until Enforcer Geller opened up on the nearest open doorway, placing a frag grenade through the door, a perfect bounce through the door way putting it out of sight...

...the Patrol pauses at the edge of the village, blocking the largest gap in the fence and look up as the Grenade Blossoms into fire and over pressure, blasting the two zombies in the room to the floor, one of them into multiple parts on the floor.

With the blast and noise, the rest of the buildings vomit forth their plague bearing squatters. Stretching out like a Grotesque Conga, 4 more neurone plague victims appear and the 5th crawls onwards, still smouldering from the grenade blast.

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/NecromundaZombies.jpg

Enforcer Glaze then opened up, his sustained fire walking across the line, 3 of the zombies visibly hit, but only two of them go down, the third ignoring the rounds that shatter it's sternum.

Mindless, without fear or hesitation, the plague zombies continue their advance, slowed by the terrain, their uneven gait splitting them into the group of two standing abominations, and the rest, laid out but still crawling.

Enforcer Vaquez then took her turn, her boltgun spitting rocket boosted rounds, but like the mindless beasts they are, the plague victims ignore the explosions as they spang off the ruins around them.

Enforcer Glaze again opened up, the heavy stubber chattering through the last links of ammunition that burdened him. Twice more he hit the closest zombie, finally the weight of fire almost chewing it in half.

Enforcer Grylls advanced with his Sargent and Cyber Mastiff, Ralfy. There was no way for the Plague Zombies to get past their supression shields, and Ralfy bounded onto the nearest neurone plauge victim, bringing it down with a vicious bite to what was left of it's hamstrings.

From the crawling, writing mass of zombies, one disentangles itself from the dusty ruins, and staggers to it's feet. A former Goliath, this individual is missing most of it's features, but it's teeth gleam as along with the remaining upright zombie, they pounce on the cyber mastiff. Between them, the clumsy undead manage to knock it over but can do no more damage as Sgt. Horatio Columbo, along with Enforcer Grylls, smash into them with their gunfire. Plasma burns what is left of the former Goliaths face off, and an executioner round, despite not having time for it's machine spirit to identify it's target, brings a lethally accurate round through the others skull.

The following sweep was quick and efficient, and saw all the correct decontamination procedures followed, and the official warning notice to any settlers who tried to reclaim the old habs.

Now, all they had to do was get back to the Precinct House. There was paperwork to do.

Vizzi

2012-08-08, 12:10 PM

"You know, it cant be healthy to do this, everyday. Although i suppose not having it explode on your hands is probably healthier." Jack says as he looks upon Harry as he uses the tools in his father's workshop, his eyes drifting slightly as he watched with some apprehension the usual maintenance that the Heavy Plasma Gun needed. "No doubt, but its as you say Boss. Better safe in the future than slightly dangerous now" his grin as he banged slightly on the power pack was precipitated by a twitch in Jack at the slightly rough treatment "Well, do hurry up while i go check how things are around here." with that and a swish in his coat he leaves, heading towards the Ol'Heller.

As he walked across the settlement accompanied by his some of his gang members his eyes took his surroundings in. As always interesting sights abounded, a stall there selling a particularly interesting piece of technology, a pickpocket eyeing his mark, a vicious beating being done by Lex. As he continued for a few moments longer his mind stalled slightly as he reworked his last thought. Lex beating someone? he mulled over that statement for a few seconds until like a flash of a Plasma Explosion he finally understood, feeling slightly idiotic as he turned around to the amusement of his companions who had stopped already but where waiting for him to catch up. He eyed them with a slight glare, punctuated with a noise of a fist hitting flesh followed by a loud*Spleen* at that his mind Hiccuped slightly as his head twisted slightly towards Lex and the savagely beaten man, with just cause he decided, if only to avoid suffering the same fate, he mulled over what he would say as Lex unleashed a particularly devastating combination of punches that left the men groaning and begging for help.

"Lex. May i ask why you are 'helping' this man?" his eye twitched slightly as she gave a particularly vicious kick in the man's nether regions before turning towards him "Nothing much boss. This idiot tried to coop a feel." her glared precluding any amusement such a thought would normally incite, at least any that showed on their faces, although if one looked closely upon their eyes they would find a twinkle "Perhaps its best if you followed us. We are heading to Ol'Heller for an update." and without waiting for a response he turned with his jacket seemingly twisting in a dramatic fashion, Lex only rolled her eyes at the customary dramatics her boss usually employed.

As they travelled onwards nothing of much interest happened, except a man being thrown out of a window by a particularly burly woman and flying head first into a small ditch, as they passed the house the burly woman burst out lamenting her temper, his mind recoiled slightly at the sight of the generous moustache that stood prominently in the woman's face, his pace quickened considerably. Until at last they arrived at Ol'Heller's house one of the towns 'leaders', if one considered the slightly insane and gossipy old man that, he sat as always in a rickety old chair outside his home.

As they approached closer while still maintaining a distance to prevent the dreaded cane from reaching him Jack called out "Ol'Heller you old goat anything interesting to say?" barely avoiding the cane thrown out as he woke up and screamed out in response "G' bo'er so'one ese! Y Idjit!" with that happy beginning the discussion soon devolved into the customary insults and barely understood sentences, the gist of wich was to go search out towards the old side stop up near the border with the Tunnel Foxes. As he sent a few men to gather the rest of the gang for a small outing he forgot about Ol'Heller, something he regretted as soon as the cane impacted with a vicious *Twang* on the back of his head, vengeance would he his as the obnoxious laughter of old man was heard.

Adlan

2012-08-08, 04:24 PM

Round One
Tunnel Foxes vs Unfolding Shadow

Gang Fight

Anna the former Escher, along with her Heavy bolter exited the tunnel under the central bus stop. She was trailed by Matt and Allis, who cradled their lasguns under their arms in a way that made it clear why House Van Saar was the No. 1 choice for the Imperial Guard Conscription Commissars. Now inside the Structure, they quickly climbed the ladders and gantries, Matt taking up a position on the first floor, looking out the window nearest the staircase, he can see the curve of the street as it goes corewards, as well as the open space around the isolated Bus Station. As he covers the view, Anna and Allis climb higher.

Rambrand Von Mittensee, Honore with his Plasma Gun quietly, ominiously humming and Lira are lead by the Juves, Halbret and Tavin Von Mittensee who scout ahead as the gang cuts off the corner of the path, taking up positions on the Clockwise side of the street covering the empty corewards road that is the dividing line. As the get into position, Matt loses a Lasgun bolt, the Delaques have occupied the Anticlockwise side of the street, all the buildings opposite .

The Delaques have occupied the Buildings opposite, Jack & Winfred
and Nathan & Henry as two man teams supporting each other. Jack's Bolter Cracks out a shot first, but the Van Saar's are well hidden. Winfreds Lasgun catches the movement of a flinch, like scaring up ripperjacks on a cull and snaps off an accurate shot, inflicting a flesh wound which will render Halbret's aim even worse than it normally is.

Henry's plasma gun blast burns the street between the two gangs, almost illuminating their disputed border and Nathan's Lasgun fares no better.

Anna and Allis have climbed to the upper gantry level, from here, the old ornamental balcony has an air of decayed grandeur, as well as an excellent view of the battle field. From their vantage point, they can spot the Delaques heavy, setting up a Plasma Cannon that would dominate the street and shoot down into the cover occupied by the Foxes. Allis's Lasgun snaps up into a shoulder and firm cheek weld, pinning the Heavy into what cover he can get on the top of the hab block. Anna has time to set up the heavy bolters bipod and open's up, smashing the two gangers who have followed the heavy up to the top. Lex is Out of Action, and it looks like Mike is Down for now. Harry, pinned by fire, grits his teeth and edures behind his patch of cover.

Melta fire from Rambrand Von Mittensee, hits the building, showing why it's called a vape gun as some of Winfred's cover is eaten away, Honore with his Plasma Gun ominiously humming allows the sound to build as he charges the capacitors, and discharges it, a powerful burst pulsing across the Clockwise street, exceeding the destruction wrought by the melta as Nathan is caught by the second of three globs of star fire. putting Nathan down.

Lira and the Juves, Halbret and Tavin who open up the pistol fire following Lira's Lasgun shot, which follows through the newly made gap to hit Winfred, a carefully picked target over closer, but less visible Unfolding Shadow Gangers. Winfred Pinned in his shrinking cover, Halbret hits and downs the Delaque, emptying his laspack, and then replacing it despite his unsteady, blood slicked hands.

Jack, the Unfolding Shadow leader, holds his gangs nerve as they see their fellow down. But then Anna's Heavy Bolter opens up again, the explosive bolts blowing apart the structural integrity of the Hab Blocks. Allis and Mike's Lasbolts patter into the window edges, and then Rambrand Von Mittensee's Melta spits out again hitting Jack, and wounding the Delaque Leader. With their leader down, the fight leave the Unfolding Shadows, who seem to fold away, back into the shadows.

The Boundary Line has moved, and again the Side Station Belongs to House Van Saar.

bluntpencil

2012-08-09, 04:20 PM

File in triplicate. Always in Terra-damned triplicate.

That being said, it didn't take too long for Columbo to fill out the forms, seeing as there were no casualties or odd goings-on.

Hell, Glaze outdid himself with that big cannon of his and the plan went perfectly. Health and Safety would be pleased indeed. Well, they wouldn't be pleased, they'd had that part of the brain lobotomised, most likely. They wouldn't be irritated, which was their usual mood.

Anyway, the locals seemed less terrified, too. They weren't grateful, they hated cops, and probably rightly so, after that beat-down six months ago. Ah well, all effluent under the gangway now, right?

Time for a smoke, thought the Sarge, as he relaxed, playing cards with his squad, unless those Cawdor bastards had caused some sort of wildfire.

Adlan

2012-08-09, 05:35 PM

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Round1.jpg

Etcetera

2012-08-09, 05:47 PM

Will conflicts affect hab prices?

Genius.

thegunslinger

2012-08-09, 06:13 PM

'Pilgrims to the right! To the right, damn your eyes, get out of the frakking way' bellowed Jebediah, pushing his way through the line of settlers trickling through the gang's territory. 'And the next one of you who doesn't show the proper respect is getting some Emperor-blessed boot leather where it'll hurt, see if it doesn't!'

Jebediah turned back through the throng to see Aquila and Throne's Servant leaning against a hab-stack, sharing a lho stick and laughing about something inane, no doubt. 'You two! Shift your mangy arses and get this crowd moving! We don't have all damned day!'

Aquila ground out the stick beneath his heel and took up his place along the side of twisting line of habbers moving through. 'Come on then, stir your stumps. We've got a stretch to go, then you lucky lot get the blessed duty of shovelling out the scav-ruins. Remember - honest toil is the Emperor's currency!'. The juve grinned at the scowls of the new settlers. He knew that they couldn't complain too much. Yes, it was going to be a disgusting job reclaiming the wastes back from being a scavvy-den to something approaching a settlement, but how many underhivers could claim a new spot for their very own without too much blood being spilled?

Not bloody many, he was sure.

thegunslinger

2012-08-09, 06:15 PM

Really like that news report, Adlan. Keep them coming!

Icedaemon

2012-08-10, 07:20 AM

With the Delaques fleeing, the professionalism of the Tunnel Foxes still-relatively-green team crumbles away. Even Rambrand is cheering, though him with at least enough sense to re-holster the dangerous Meltagun. Honore, however, is as giddy as the juves, laughing about the Delaque ganger who was dragged off by retreating fellows, clutching a face which had received a generous plasma bath. While a full-powered shot might have boiled the head off instantly, the necessity of pausing to recharge his gun while stuck in the middle of a fight that could still go either way is not one he relishes.

As Anna and her fire team leave tower building, the heavy exiting later and walking slower while the other two practically run, they are met with outright hugs.

Liria, clutching her younger sister, is smiling: Ma and Pa taught you better than I thought. You lot kept them huddling their piece of cover.

Slightly abashed, the other woman, barely more than a girl replies: "Anna did most of the work. Me and Matt just helped a bit"

Tavin and Matt were also congratulating one another, though via ribbing more than anything. "So, are your security guard skills any good down here?"

You tell me cousin. I didn't exactly see you getting shot while you were jogging down to a gunfight as freely as if you heard it was half off on Wildsnake on the market.

"Put a sock in it."

Meanwhile, Rambrand is talking with his second in command and long-time comrade, both of them with an arm on the other's shoulder. Both of them in possession of enough weight gun-wise, they've stashed their weapons on their backs.

"Beautiful work Anna. I mean, the tunnels worked as they should, but getting to that balcony before showing them we're here, that was smart."

"Pfft. Just common sense. We've both been here before, we know the structure. The balconies are the best places to be when my job's giving some dip**** a permanent bolt rain."

"Really? I always just preferred the windows. A nice sturdy structure like that, I can shoot out without fearing anyone who hasn't got some big anti-material cannon."

"It's more fun just to have a nice generous angle which lets me put 'em down before they get return fire."

"Right. Regardless, Good work n'all, but we're wasting time."

Stepping back and raising his voice, Rambrand addresses the entire gang.

"The Shadows are on the run. Last I saw them, they were dragging off bleeding or charred buddies. Worst case scenario, most of them are too messed up to bother us for a while. Best case, half of them are dead and the rest leaderless. We don't go back home now. We are still on the offensive. The Dirty Den is a crystal mine and the way there is wide open. Anna, the map?"

Having returned to the tunnels to retrieve it before the gang even regrouped, the Escher-born ganger gladly hands the throne-damned booklet over.

"Right here. The kid should get his arm looked at though. Also, everyone probably knows we're here now."

"You're right, we shouldn't get cocky. Rushing to some location with our entire force just means that our own assets are uncovered and a fleshwound can still get infected. Liria, you know the way, take the juves back to Rita's. You can hold the fort against lone scavvies by yourself, I'd think. The Unfolding Shadow guys, pretentious name and poor mettle aside, still held onto some damn good turf from what I've heard. This might only have been a part of their gang. Still, we should be able to take any guards of any individual structure no problem."

Liria, while irked to be left out of the rest of the mission, still understands and accepts that she is being given effective command of a third of the gang. The new kids might be soft boys from the safer parts of the hive city, but at least they didn't run off at the first sound of gunfire. They might become proper gangers yet. As she prepares to leave though, she hears her sisters voice.

"We could go to Fungusbreath Village instead. That's not too far."

Rambrand too is surprised by Allis' comment. While Liria smiles, he frowns quizzically.

"Fungusbreath village? I've not even heard that name."

I do chief. Now that I think about it, Allis is right. One of the hab domes not far from this bus stop is still inhabited. Unless I've missed something, the Dirty Den is in Rustholm proper, so we've a way to go. We could go to either one.

Eager that her suggestion is being considered, Allis goes on.

"That hab's been changing names more than an outlaw scummer. Pa just called it Fungusbreath's Village, after a chief he did business with way back when."

Matt, anxious to get a move on somewhere, pipes in.

That gamblin' den will give us more guilder cred than any village could. Rambrand's plan was hitting the den, so that's what we do.

Rambrand himself, however, is less than eager to have some rivalries develop between his gangers and has come up with an idea.

"I don't need my authority propped up. What I say goes, but if that village is there, that's new info for me. The Delaques are expecting a hit on the Dirty Den. They are gathering whatever remaining assets they've got there. Allis, If you are sure you can find a way to that village, we can take it over easy. This is allegedly all Shadow turf, so they likely consider it theirs - we've got an open road to a settlement without guards of its own. A casino will give us more creds, but taking an entire settlement, even a village, will get us respect."

The discussion finished, the five gangers head southwards instead of corewards, with Rambrand keeping half an eye on the bus route maintenance atlas to try and identify where probable intact tunnels might be relative to their position. They don't need those now, but that does not mean such knowledge couldn't come in handy later. Soon enough, they reach the settlement.

While they might have travelled with any weapons holstered, the village is entered with everyone holding onto at least one piece. Rambrand, unwilling to tax the melta more, is holding his lasgun. Not expecting anyone to be stupid enough to make her spend ammo though, Anna is swinging her heavy bolter around instead of opting for the pistol. Spotting the Delaque snakes hanging from an archway between two particularly large and intact buildings in the centre of the settlement, Rambrand quickly fires off a few shots, putting three holes through the sign. The laspulses are strong enough that it falls off one of the chains attaching it to the arch, leading to the sign hanging haphazardly.

"All right you lucky lot! You have just been liberated from the bald turds of House Delaque by yours truly and company. This village is now under the protection of the Tunnel Foxes. Do right by us, pay for our services and fall in line and we will see you prosper."

"However, if any of you have some empty loyalty to the Unfolding Shadow boys, you start running for whoever of theirs is still alive right now, or come out and fight like proper Necromundans! Try something sneaky and you and your family are nailed to a wall, literally. Sound fair?"

The Van Saars do spot a few particularly pale and bald villages slinking about and muttering, but from the looks of things, this hab dome has been part of the underhive for long enough that most of the people have forsaken most of their house ties. Mixed breed born-and-bred underhivers are more common than people who could be identified as belonging to any one house. For a time, there is no real reply. People shuffle their feet and look around, waiting for something. To the more seasoned members of the Tunnel Foxes, even Honore, the villages hesitation is logical. They expect their current Delaque masters to have at least someone nearby who'd challenge the new gang. Rambrand lets them get away with this. It's better to break in a new territory via letting the locals get disappointed by the lacklustre performance of their old bosses.

At last, an old man, barely able to stand upright even with his cane, gives a slight nod to two youths. As one climbs the archway to remove the now broken Delaque sign, another goes into what looks to be a storage shed. The second youth returns soon enough, an emblem with a faded representation of the Van Saar spider carried aloft.

Anna smiles. Chances are, that storage shed has symbols to represent all the major houses and probably some of the older gangs. Rambrand though muses on them likely needing to come up with and make publically known a true Tunnel Foxes-specific symbol.

-----

A few days later, the majority of the Tunnel Foxes are back at Rita's. Halbert, intent on proving that his flesh wound has already healed, has crafted a punching bag in one of the abandoned storage sheds and is training on one of the rare hours when none of the senior gangers can think of a better job for them. Tavin is also resting, though for him it's just laying down. While Liria had taken hitting up the slag on herself in theory, she had in effect dragged the juve along to do the manual labour while she watched out for Delaque opportunists or Orlock goons who might consider the rimwards side of the slag to be theirs.

Matt and Rambrand had gone off that morning (or so - whether the repair shops clock is accurate or not can hardly be determined in the underhive), providing cover to the Van Saar's guilder ally in exchange for a handful of creds. Allis, who had earlier tried her hand at learning some mechanical skill from Anna, was standing guard, pondering. She was still unsure of the new girl. Haggard and fidgety, the juve looked more like a scavvy than anything else. Allis herself and her sister had been underhivers for most of their life and yet could still be readily recognized as members of house Van Saar from their manner and garb. Rambrand had taken this wretch back to the hideout a day ago, after yet another trip to the village she had led them to. Still fearful, the new member of the team was huddled in a corner, though her behaviour turned almost sycophantic the moment any of the gangers, even the other juves, addressed her. Still, Allis supposed, at least no creds had been wasted on kitting the girl out.

Adlan

2012-08-13, 12:03 PM

Round 2

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/newspaper-2.jpg

With the recent events still fresh in every resident of Rustholm's mind, the atmosphere is tense. Tensions between those still affiliated with a house are rising and those unaligned are still feeling the disruption of the gang violence, though the major settlement is of course unaffected by who really controls outlying hab's, the influence and power that control can give has made or broken gangs rise to power in the past.

Members of the Holy Flame Defend against the Unclean!
Zombie Raid
Map:
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/IMG_0002.jpg
The Settlement of Redemption is surrounded by a low parapet wall, chest high in most places, constructed from rubble and reclaimed materials, the few buildings still sound were incorporated into it's defence, and at the Anticlockwise edge, a stout gate, with higher walls each side, opens towards the sump.

Away from the settlement there are low ruined buildings, none left more than One storey high, many only the ruined remnants of the walls, often where Members of the Holy Flame had repurposed the materials for their new settlement or it's defences. Rimwards, many of the low buildings are still connected by a warren of walkways. Most of the Forces of House Cawdor are away, but Elizah, Jebediah, Obediah and Gabriel patrol the wall, or keep watch from the buildings on the perimeter or gate.

Gutter Legion vs Zippo's Brotherhood
Scavengers
Map:
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/IMG_0005.jpg
Some say McAdams Spore mine was abandoned because a great pit opened up underneath McAdams, and McAdam's mining carts, swallowing him down into the sump. Some say it was the Rockfalls, crushed his skull when one of the sheds he was in was partially collapsed. Others think it was when the Spore's finally rotted out his lungs.
Now the fungus tree's grow, like huge toadstools, coloured and spotted in many variations of every colour known in the underhive. Within the Fairy Rings they form, many rare fungi can be found, if you know what you are looking for.

The Rockfall's are huge boulders, where they intersect with buildings, they can be climbed to reach the top, The rail tracks are McAdam's old mining lines, and would of intersected where now only the darkness of an unknown depth remains, crossed by a walkway most precarious between two of the old rickety sheds. The Corewards building is the burned out remains of McAdam's Equipment hanger, and it's charred roofbeams cross the empty space between the two sides, while the two storey watch tower looks out across the cavern. Clockwise of the watchtower are some of the old hab blocks that McAdams, or someone, used to inhabit. Towards the Clockwise Rim, the only thing rising above the Fungus Trees is the old Water Tower, now overgrown with mold, it's rusty ladder is precarious, but seems sturdy enough.

The Gutter Legion approach from the Corewards, while Zippo's Brotherhood approach from the Rimwards side.

Unfolding Shadow vs Tunnel Foxes
Ambush!
Map:
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/IMG_0007.jpg
Amid the ruined buildings and rusty walkways, Unfolding Shadow have walked into an Ambush. All three groups of them are caught in the centre of the mess of ruined high towers and low hab blocks, as they cross underneath the highest walkway around.
The Tunnel Foxes have occupied cubby holes and hide aways in the darkness, far out of view of the Unfolding shadow, readying their weapons to leap out and open up on the unaware enemy. Their positions need to have good positions to fire from, but if they are too close, they risk alerting the Delaques that the ambush is about to be sprung.

Precinct #14, Patrol Beta vs Slagburn's Ironmen
Gang Fight
Map:
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/IMG_0009.jpg
Abandonment has destroyed this part of the Underhive wastes. What could once have been habitable has been rendered desolate by neglect, though no one recalls what lead to this areas depopulation. The Hab Blocks are Empty, the towers precariously sway with every hive quake. Piles of Rubble renders some roof tops accessible and buries some doors completely. But it's here that the Orlocks encounter the Enforcers....

Etcetera

2012-08-13, 12:24 PM

Zippo's Brotherhood IC

On this new day, blessed as it is in the Emperor's name, the Brotherhood stand ready to defend the faithful against the great unwashed masses: the scavvies. With supreme tactical planning, granted by a vision from the Emperor himself, Zippo has chosen the old abandoned mine for the useful but unnecessary advantage it would give the brotherhood. It was nothing to do with the rumors of potentially lucrative hallucinogenic fungi that could be found in the area.

Nothing at all.

Liberally draped in some very familiar looking sheets of paper, bearing psalms to the Emperor, and benedictions upon his warriors, the Brotherhood began its inexorable approach. Up in the battered remains of a double block on the Rimwards side of the mine, the faint sound of swearing could be heard as Cartier, with the aid for his cleaver, tried to re-zero the sights on his lasrifle.

Beneath him (somewhat literally in Cartier's opinion), Zippo was performing a cursory check on the equipment of his brothers. After a heated discussion (very literally, this time), it was decided 7-2 that the paper would have to go. It had an altogether unfaithful tendency to go up in flames every time they got near a pilot light. Still, as Zippo remarked, at least they didn't pay anything for them.

The gang slowly shifted gear, switching from jokey, fun-loving psychopaths to angry, murdery psychopaths. With an efficiently you'd not have expected of such a motley bunch, they split off into their sub-groups and set about making the Imperium a better place, chunk by scorched chunk.

Adlan

2012-08-13, 03:28 PM

Zombies IC Post
There is a reason why underhivers had made their settlements far from the Scrofulous Waste, a reason why the area had until recently been scavvy territory, unfit for any decent being.

The Reason is currently shuffling towards the gates of the settlement.

No one knows what causes the Neurone Plague Outbreaks to wax and wane. Some say it is when the Factories Midhive dump extra heat into the sump, others when the effluent runs a particular colour from the waste pipes and some whisper that it is Karloth Valois, returned from the Abyss with a horde of zombies at his beck and call.

In this case though, the heat and light and noise has drawn the shambling, hungry, victims of the Plague towards the settlement. They seem to be coming out of the ground and the buildings themselves as the Cawdor Sentry sees them only one or two buildings away.

thegunslinger

2012-08-13, 05:47 PM

Members of the Holy Flame

Jebediah stretched and yawned. Throne, but guard duty was boring. His flamer resting next to him, he used it as an impromptu hand warmer as he stared out over the hastily-built parapet that was the Underhive's newest settlement. Not that staring out there did much at this point, the pilot light from his flamer ruining his night-vision. Horus take it, anyway. Nothing out there except sump-rats and moldering scavie bones after the fight to take the place.

Feet hitting the ramp up the walkway next to him signalled the arrival of Gabriel. 'You're a twitchy little bugger, aren't you?' said Jebediah, without rancour. Gabriel grinned as he hefted himself up to the top part of the wall. What could he say? He was a twitchy little bugger. The last fight had taught him that hitting faster and more often was probably the way to go about surviving in the underhive. He hadn't put that into practise just yet, still armed with the shotgun he had shoved ahead of him as he climbed up, but he was hoping to demonstrate that he was more capable than your average ganger, just as soon as he had the chance. Having the creds to get a weapon worth a damn close in would be nice, too.

'Aye, I am.' said Gabriel, scratching his cheek underneath his mask. 'But at least I know not to stare at a light while I'm meant to be looking into the dark, you lummox.' Gabriel ducked under the cuff that was coming his way and danced off to the side a bit. He picked his nose and flicked it at Jebediah, who was back to warming his hands. 'That goes double when there are plaguers out there.'

Jebediah spat. 'There ain't no frakking plaguers out there. We's just up here to give the happy clappies below us something to point at and pray about.'

Gabriel frowned slightly. 'Care to wager something on that then? I bet you 5 creds that we'll be up to our necks in something before the shift is out.'

Jebediah turned to him, clicking the pilot light off. 'You're on. But instead of 5 creds, I want that medallion of Sanguinius you got. Had my eye on it.'

Turning back down towards the settlement, Gabriel smiled. 'Not a worry, my promethium-drinking friend. You should probably get the creds ready for me now, then'

'Oh aye, should I? An' why's that?' growled Jebediah.

'Because Elizah and your other giant mate are on their way like the Traitor Legions were up their arse - probably because they heard that over there while you were busy warming your balls.' As he said it, Gabriel pointed back over the wall, where the first plague zombies were ambling towards them, growling and gnashing their teeth.

Jebediah turned to see what Gabriel was pointing at, hefting his flamer. The plague zombies were pulling themselves up out of the depths, twisted and rotting forms snarling in the darkness.

Laughing a deepthroated laugh, Jebedia turned to Gabriel 'aye lad, well played - I'll leave ya the creds in my will!'

Papa Doc

2012-08-13, 08:37 PM

"Ironmen, stir yer stumps and move yer rumps. Brimm, Grimm, I want every weapon checked and double checked in five minutes. Lark, Skrugg, on me. everyone else be ready to move in ten!"

Lark and Skrugg joined Corbin at the main table, where Corbin was already unrolling a hand-sketched map of their slice of the world. He searched with his finger for a minute before wiping away a spray of spittle from his chin. "Here. Some scabs been talking, said there's an informant here meeting with some enforcers. Should be only a handful. Word on the street is that the enforcers are trying to finger us for that shoot-out the other day with those Cawdor maniacs. I want them DEAD! We'll move out as soon as we can. I mean to get there first and be nice and settled when these scum show up." Corbin growled, a throaty rumble that echoed through his exposed teeth. "Thoughts? Questions?"

"We need a plan." Lark pointed at some of the buildings with her knife. I don't want to go out there without everyone knowing what's going to happen once we get there."

Skrugg slapped the butt of his autogun on the table. "Nope. Those building are too deteriorated, too flimsy to try to plan anything out from these maps. Like as not we'll get there and fin that what looks good on these is shot to ****."

"I like the way you think, Skrugg. We'll form a better plan once we arrive. Anything else? Good. Keep Horvath on a tight leash. If he becomes a liability, feel free to knock him about the grape once or twice. We're moving in five."

The den was a flurry of movement. Weapons, ammo, and bodies flew around in a blur. Like clockwork, Corbin stood and shouldered his chainsword with a bellow. "Time's up, let's move." Silence followed, broken only by the thud of hobnail boots on the dilapidated floor. As one, they rolled out the door and into the alleyways, making for the ruins with as much speed as was safe.

Icedaemon

2012-08-15, 08:55 AM

"Hey chief. Nice gear, it workin' properly?"

Rambrand nods, if not all that patiently. The damn thing was expensive, far more than he had expected, but the trader swore up and down that such a thing would be worth it. If that was true would remain to be seen, but it at least protected his eyes. The typical Van Saar focus on ranged weapons would not be aided by losing his sight all that much.

Him and Matt had just enough credits over after purchasing their supplies that he could afford a little something for himself. Expecting a counterattack from the Delaques or a push from the Orlocks, anything which kept some potential enemy tricks at bay was a good purchase, though saving no creds for a rainy day might bite the gang in the arse yet.

The previous group of guards had set out not too long ago. It almost seemed suspicious that Honore and Liria had returned so soon.

"Did something happen?"

"You could say that. We had the new girl with, trying to see what she's made of and if she's genuine."

Rambrand peeks out suspiciously. Lorraine was there, pushing some of of the spare gear around, with Honore and Rita acting as co-overseers.

"What'd she do?"

"She had a chat with some old friends. Seems there's people with contacts to the Delaques yet. We might've kept watch, but we can't track the comings and going of everyone just yet."

The leader sighs and takes a seat on what might have been the back seat of a luxury shuttle bus ages ago.

"Bring her in."

A few minutes later, the rag-garbed juve was standing before him.

"I've heard you know something?"

Wringing her hands, Lorraine nods.

"Ah do sir! Them was talking that the Shadow is cross n'all. Wants to get their family back, the entire set'ment too. Them's planning to get at us. I'd not be surprised if'n there's people biding their time to join up with the Foldy Shadow if they hit the village."

"So. We need to break them before they reach the village. There are three paths into the place, that I know of. we use and know the rimwards road, they'd risk too much taking that one. Of the other two..."

Pausing for effect, Rambrand takes his visor off and affixes both eyes on Lorraine's face. The juve is silent, but with a smile on her lips. Having realized its meaning moments ago, Rambrand allows himself a slight grin as well.

"You know which way they'll come?"

The cheerful and rapid nodding is a good enough answer for anybody.

------

Rambrand adjusts his photo-visor again. It's nowhere near as good for keeping an eye on the enemy while staying hidden himself as he had hoped, but it proved sufficient, this time. None of his teammates had been spotted insofar. The Delaques are clearly not expecting the ambush, why would they?

As they approach the walkway, he tenses. The plan was composed in a hurry, but it should work well enough. With the enemy in the 'firepit', as he had hastily dubbed the area, he gives Liria a slight pat on the shoulder and stands up himself. The rest of the gang is in position. It's time to strike.

Adlan

2012-08-16, 10:33 AM

Round Two
Members of the Holy Flame Defend against the Unclean!

The moans of the infected echoed through the night, and their eyes and stained ivory teeth glistened in the reflected light of the torches and the faint glow of some forgotten light that knew no day or night cycle far above the floor level.

With Shuddering limbs, the Zombies seemed to realise they were discovered, as they slunk out of cover, dragging feet and spitle dropping as they lurched into view, revealing their number. The Settlement of Redemption was outnumbered five to one.

Jebediah and Gabriel rushed to man the wall. Taking position in the parapet next to the gate, Jebediah begining to recite blessed litanies while Gabriel Opened up on the Closest Zombie, the Flash of the Hot Shot round revealing that behind the closest zombies, still more were beyond the range of his weapon.

Elizah Was Running down to the Gate, while Obediah Ran to the unoccupied other parapet, corewards of the gate. With the Emperors Vision and a periscope, the Cawdor Gang leader could see his foes unmasked, unclean face.

The Zombies picked up speed, as no obstacle save the odd fallen brick or block of old hab blocked their way. Holy Flames Clear up seemed to be working against them, speeding the neurone victims feet though the outlines of the ruined walls steered their way.

It became apparent why the House of Cawdor put it's trust in the burning flame of the Emperor. Both Obediah and Jebediah use their fuel in bursts against the front of the shambling line, scorching several, but three catch fire. Obediah blisters two to writhing figures on the ground, while Jebediah burns another to a cinder.

Gabriels Shotgun fires off again, like a flare illumination after the campfire his comapions have left. It's like a call for salvation, or emergency rescue, but as yet, there is no help coming. Eliza can see the oncomming zombies and precariously fires off a round from his pistol, hitting a zombie clean through the sternum, the lead did nothing to slow it's advance.

As they cross the still smoking remains of the first wave, the zombie horde stumbles, and as the settlement walls are illuminated by flame, Jebediah's litany's have changed into a hymn. Sung by many strong vocies, the rest of the gangers have arrived, arriving as quick as they can from their errands, weapon in hand, they run to take positions against the parapet walls before the zombies can cross them.

Elizah, puzzled by his pistols failure before, takes careful aim again, plugs the same zombie through the sternum, barely a finger span from his previous shot. The Impressive display of marksman ship does nothing to improve his opinion of the stub guns efficacy as the zombie is unfased.

Jebediah is the first to finish his tank of gas, putting three more zombies down in blinding flaming promethium. Obediah has conserved his tank and still manages to put two more down.

But still the horde moves onwards, Rushing with speed against the wall only recently manned, the shotguns of the gangers roar out, in the brief flashes of light, they must be outnumbered 2 to 1. Decon's shotgun explodes in his hand, the home made ammunition not quite as good as the uphive brand label sold at the traders in town. But it still puts a neurone zombie down, along with Abraham, Death to Xenos puts one right between the eyes of what used to be an Escher, leaving nothing but a bloody mess between two caked and crusted pigtails. Puitanius also puts one down, while Gabriel hasn't even reloaded his shotgun. With a Shout and a Cry, Elizah's next shot is disturbed, interrupted by the Juves arrival, swinging chains and flails they are chanting the old Favourite
"Mine Eyes have seen the Glory of the Emperor our Lord,
He will Smite the Filthy Mutant he will Crush the Deviant Horde"

And he couldn't help join in on the old chorus as he holstered his stub gun and reached for his chainsaw.

On the walls, Obediah and Jebediah had one last chance to sweep them clear with his flamer, blasting them away from the centre, away from the gate to the settlement. Jebediah missed, but 5 burned to a crisp, and Obediah's Flamer Tank seemed like the Miraculous Oil of St. MacAbbey, which kept fuelling the holy fire for 8 days and was not yet empty.

Then they were beset on the walls, but they hold firm, the height and cover giving them the advantage, save for Harumash, who was also forced backwards.

The Rest of the Zombies pile in, save for three which clamber over, thanks to the burning remains of the others, all that remains of this group are now but 5 foul infected each one mobbing a member of the hole flame trying to climb up the wall. But those three were worse, charging into Deacon and Harumash. Deacon fends them off, but is forced back from the wall, while Harumash is practically torn into, going out of action in hand to hand with a plague zombie is one of the worst fears for the pure.

Obediah alone remains free from fending off the grasping hands and again triggers his blessed flamer. but it washes over the group's heads, burning ones head off while the rest bend low under the fire to feed. But it at least distracts them.

Elizah raises a shout as the juves join him, the gate's sally port opens, and they step out one by one over the crispy remains of Obediah's wrath. They charge the nearest zombies which had beset Jebediah and Gabriel at the foot of the wall. Deftly stepping aside from the clumsy attack of one of the zombies, Throne's-servant smashed the creature to the ground with his flail, pulping its head. Elizah grinned and turned from the juve, hacking into the next zombie foolish enough to attack him. Elizah's Chainsword roared in his hands removing one zombies head clean from it's shoulders.

The sally was cutting through the horde like a purgator through a heratic's bowels, the rim wards wall was holding, but on the Coreward wall, the Zombies moved on from their first victim, and closed on Deacon. Obediah's flamer roared again and again it's tank held out. It's flames licked the zombies but their now burning skin did not slow them.

Deacon's shotgun blow ones arm off, but even without an arm, it didn't falter in it's pace. Then the two zombies closed in on Deacon, and between seven limbs, he was caught in their grasp, brought down as they mobbed him.

Elizah's group charged the zombies still on the wall, while Obediah opened up, dousing one with the fuel till it finally stopped twitching. Elizah and his Chainsaw carved in the emperors name, his stroke forcing it to lurch into the range of Methuselah's Flail, though it was only after it was spun by that impact that Praise-be-his-Name could administer the blow that put the zombie down. Thrones-Servant and Aquila kept the other distracted, though neither could land a good blow on the zombie. Only Death to Xenos was still alone, though he was hit, he miraculously avoided a scratch breaking his skin. Almost as if the zombies only wanted human contact, not human flesh.

As the fight continued, Obediah's tank finally empties, as with the last few jets of fuel he incinerates the last zombie near Deacon. http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Firefromabove.jpg

On the wall, the struggle finally ends. Gabriel's twitches work out for him, as he jams his knife through the last zombies ear, wiggles it and withdraws it. The zombie falls, unlifeless.

The Settlement Holds!

thegunslinger

2012-08-16, 08:07 PM

There was a faint 'glink, glink' sound of cooling metal. Obidiah gave the battlefield one more look around, making sure that there were no more plague zombies hiding in the out-hives. He made doubly sure that none of the charred bodies in front of him were still stirring, then he blew out the pilot light of his flamer.

'You still alive, Jeb?' he called out, grinning to the other heavy standing on the far wall. ''cause if you are, it's because of me an' Sabbat here, an' no mistake!'. Obidiah patted the side of his flamer, whose promethium tanks were as close to empty as they had ever been.

Jebediah grunted and walked over to the other heavy. His flamer-tank was only half full, having blown out a gasket-hose midway through the fight. 'I reckon that between you, the Emperor and Elizah down there we're sitting pretty. Too bad about Deacon an 'mash, though.'

Obidiah was still to pumped up from the fight to pay much attention. He was still grinning and preening over his flamer to pay much attention. He was still doing so when Elizah reached his side.

'In all my years, I never thought I'd be so blessed to see a miracle.' Elizah murmured. 'But that was as close to one as I thought I'd ever see. Kneel, my child and accept the Emperor's blessing'.

Obidiah knelt, bowing his head and putting his flamer to one side. Several gangers gathered around, along with nervous pilgrims and hab-wives, nervously venturing back into the street now that the snarls and gunfire had died down.

'Nomine Imperator, et primarchi et gibbldy gobbldy' muttered Elizah. He only knew a few words of High Gothic, but it didn't matter. No one around him knew any at all, so as long as he said it with conviction it was unlikely anyone would challenge him. Even less so, as his chainsword was prominently displayed at his side, covered in zombie-gore. And conviction was never something he lacked, either.

The impromtu service over, Elizah reached over and unclasped the flame-tank. 'A holy relic, brothers! To be displayed and worshipped by the faithful!'

Holding the empty fuel tank aloft, Elizah strode forward, intending to place at the front and centre of the Holy Flame's Chapel.

Shaking his head and grinning a bit, Gabriel pocketed the 5 cred chip he had fliched from Jebediah. 'Now I've seen it all. Mutant scavs. Walking dead. And now a holy flame tank.'

Several of the juves around him grinned at the sacrilege. Deacon, holding the wound in his side with one hand grabbed Gabriel with the other. 'Y'aint seen anything, you little squint. An' for that, you're on corpse detail with the juves. Learn your manners and tend to your scripture, lest we leave you out there next time.'

Gabriel frowned, but bowed his head and walked with the juves to start collecting the corpses and start the purity-pyres. He couldn't help but think that despite Deacon's piety, he was the one with a zombie-gnawed side.

thegunslinger

2012-08-17, 03:27 AM

The Guilder heard the auto-chime and stood up in his chair. 'Emperor's hairy ********. That's all I need', thought the merchant. 'Cawdors. As if my day wasn't already spent dealing with enough idiots doped up on 2nd Best, now I have to deal with some other idiots doped up on the Emperor instead. I haven't gone to the songs and pongs for nearly a decade and that's just the way I like it.'

Regardless of his inner monologue, the Guilder reached under his desk for a small shrine that he kept there for just this purpose. Some barbells for when the Goliaths came knocking. A working up-hive jarrack-bird clock for when the Van Saars came calling. And a shrine with the Aquila on it for when the damned Cawdors wandered in.

'Emperor bless you on this day, brethren! How may I be of service to those whom the light of the Throne has fallen on?' burbled the trader, keen to make a good impression.

Elizah pushed aside the beads that formed the entrance to the Guilder's hut. 'Cut the crap, hethen. I'd know it if you'd been to service in living memory. And you put your shrine to the God Emperor on your table upside-down'.

The Guilder's smile froze on his face. He couldn't resist glancing back at the shrine. He was sure that he had put it on the table the right way. His eyes slid towards the shrine. He realised as soon as he looked back at it that the shrine was fine, the Cawdor was just testing him. A true servant wouldn't have had to check.

Turning back with his hands open, the Guilder attempted a half hearted smile. 'Ach, you got me. Clearly you're blessed with the gift of cunning, as the Emperor blessed the Primarch Russ. How can I help you?' Mentally the trader added 'and how quickly can I get you out of my shop, before you take offence at something and burn the place to the ground?'

A burly ganger entered the shop-front. Looking up at him, it was impossible to miss the flamer that was strapped to his back. It was even harder to miss the votive scrolls and hymnals that were attached to the gang-member, given that they appeared to be pushed through the man's flesh. 'What on Terra possesses these idiots?' thought the Guilder. He stopped a small smile, realising that he had his answer - Him on Terra was what possessed these idiots. Faith was a helluva drug.

Meeting the man's eyes was not a wise move. Seeing the twitches of a smile on the Guilder's face, Jebediah frowned behind his mask. 'Something funny, runt?' rumbled the man, fingering the flamer at his side.

'Funny? No, no, nothing at all.' stammered the Guilder. 'I was just showing your er, friend, here my wares. He's still to let me know how I can be of service.'

Elizah turned to the heavy. 'Start looking through this, see if there's anything we want. You know the deal. The heavy nodded. He'd prefer to be back in his workshop, his flamer still wasn't quite right. Half the rubber seals had melted in the fight, even though he had only got off a few bursts. He'd have to find something to replace them. Something good, if only to shut Obidiah up about his flamer. He'd taken to calling it 'Sabbat', after the Saint. Jebediah wished that it was somehow heretical, but so far Elizah had nothing but praise for the other ganger, as he'd almost single handed burned a plague-horde to the ground. Grinding his teeth in jealousy, he started rifling through the wares on offer.

Elizah threw a few stub rounds onto the bench in front of the guilder. 'Let's see...the stub rounds. Those shot gun shells. That copy of the Testament of St. Macharius...what? Oh. Yes. Ok, those rubber seals and that flexi-hose.'
Elizah pulled out a few credits to pay for the purchases. Something caught his eye.

'What in the name of the Throne is that?' asked Elizah, pointing out to the back of the shop. The Guilder half turned to follow the gang leader's outstretched arm. He wasn't going to take his eye of the goods that were in front of him, nor the money. But he also had to at least make an attempt to look where the man was pointing, less something religious happen to him.

'I'm sure there's nothing there that you could possibly want.' Or afford, added the Guilder, to himself. However, he was addressing empty air, as the senior gang member strode quickly past him. 'Is that...is that a power weapon, praise his name?'

Pulling the sword out from behind the counter, to the muttered protests of the Guilder, Elizah turned and thumbed the activation rune. A crackling field ran along the monomolecular edge, throwing shadows around the room.

'How much?' asked Elizah, gazing at the sword. 'I'll give you 50 credits for it'.

Not being able to stop himself, the Guilder guffawed. '50 credits! Oh yeah, that'll pay off the Mechanicus next time they come calling. That's nearly cost. How'm I supposed to make a living offa that? 65 credits, and you can take the ammo and the other junk, too.'

The heavy ganger snarled at the merchant. 'Guilder or not, you watch your tounge. While I'm sure your kin will avenge you, they won't be able to make me un-**** your corpse'.

Visibly paling, the Guilder stuttered. 'I..I apologise. But 65 credits is the price! I have mouths to feed!'.

Elizah turned the sword off. 'I'm a fair man. I'll give you 55.' The guilder replied '60' and both turned to face each other, comfortable that the usual back and forth of the barter would now commence.

'58' said Elizah. 'and my companion here doesn't burn your Horus-loving soul to the ground, along with the rest of your knick knacks.

Not happy with the situation, the guilder was canny enough to see the writing on the wall. And it was saying that if he pushed this too far, screams and smoke were in his near future. Besides, he needed to shift it. Swords that were acquired from the Mechanicus probably weren't best left in his inventory. At least, that's how he would rationalise it to himself that evening over a cup of amasec.

Putting the credits on the bench, Elizah motioned for the heavy to leave. He wrapped the sword in a small cloth and then put it in the sack slung over his shoulder. He didn't want anyone to know what he was carrying, not this far from home. Getting jumped for a power weapon was well within the realm of possibility, given that there were scummers out there that would gut you for a half-credit.

Once the Cawdors had left, the Guilder sighed to himself. He was 58 credits richer, but thought that it was probably time to put that cash to good use hiring a few seasoned guns. Relying on the good will of fanatics was always dicey.

Vizzi

2012-08-19, 07:34 PM

"I Hate him Jack. I want him dead, his body torn to pieces and his blood spread across the ground." Lex said her eyes alight with anger and hate as she talked "I want Rambrand dead." her fists closed and suddenly she turned and punched a nearby wall.

"I know. And we will have our vengeance." his hand moving slightly across her shoulder as to relax her. His eyes drifted to Nathan, his new pronounced scars gifting him with greater character, his usual grin gone, as he thought of the last battle. His head turned slightly as he heard something banging and swearing, coming from Mike no doubt as he listened carefully, the loss of one eye was something that weighted heavily, only overshadowed by the loss of the settlement and the family and friends that lived there "We will take back what is ours, or at the very least die trying." his smiled turned cold and he snickered slightly, joined soon enough by the rest of his gang. Death was an old friend and foe.

As the moment passed the mood turned grim again he thought sadly, and only just sometime ago was it brimming with joy, damned Foxes they would pay. With that in his mind he stood up, signalling a few the fresher gangers to follow him he moved to reach the market his mind a whirl of thoughts and plans.

And as he bought a shotgun his eyes drifting to a pair of brothers, heavily armed. Scummers, with a decision made in an instant he approached them.

"Hello. You both up for hire?" his eyes moved across their bodies, checking for gear and obvious signs of experience. "Perhaps mon" spoke one, and before he even finished the sentence his brother continued "what you looking for?" Jack's head swivelled back "Some friendly help" and back "or just bodyguards?" and back "We do it all." and finaly both brothers spoke at the same time "Reggie and Ronnie at your service." and with that they jumped up towards one another and hi-fived.

Without even meaning too, his face cracked a grin at the actions of the brothers "Yes, and we will be having a battle soon enough. Vengeance must be had." and with that the brothers nodded and Ronnie said "That we can understand Mon, lead the way." he gestured Jack to lead the way.

As the group with the new additions headed back towards their home, Jack thought about the battle, of his mistakes and his errors, he blamed himself, for is it not always the fault of the leader. Especially when the men, and thinking about Lex's reactions he quickly added to his own thoughts, and woman where of the quality he had. He was tired, he only wanted piece and fora time he had, until this.

Arriving he called out for a meeting and with a simple sentence the day of reckoning would soon come "Battle awaits, for glory or death soon we would fight them again"

Adlan

2012-08-20, 06:36 PM

Round 2
Unfolding Shadow Ambushed by the Tunnel Foxes!

It had seemed like the plan was going perfectly. They were going to hit the Tunnel Foxes where they didn't know it, and thanks to the help of Ronnie and Reggie, they would hit hard. Sneaking around the VanSaar turf till they headed in from the rimwards edge, going corewards into the Tunnel Foxes territory.

It had seemed like the plan was going perfectly, until the shots had opened up. A Melta round seemed to be the signal to open up. No sooner had it send a patch of rubble, in front of a stunned Mike 'Eyed, into bubbling magma than all manner of firearms were unleashed. Heavy Bolter rounds pin Mike to the cover, even though it's smoking hot, while Lex's hatred lets her ignore anything that might stop her smoking the Tunnel Foxes leader. Heavy Bolter fire is walked across the groups of Dealques, and catches Winfred, putting the Ganger down for this fight. Allis too opens up, landing a hit on Reggie, her Lasgun effectivly downing the scummer, while Matt's Las Bolts just illustrate the location of their hiding place with the raised dust of his misses.

As the firepower has swept from Clockwise, then the now revealed ambushers directly in the corewards building, now the Anticlockwise Ambushers take a turn, Halbret and Tavin displaying impressive trigger pulling fuctions, but little else. Honore hasn't been wasting his time trying to improve their aim though. He has set the Plasma to high power for the opening salvo, and three powerful blasts of plasma eat through what little cover is left for Unfolding Shadow. The worst blast smashes into the centre of the Delaque group, and luckily avoid igniting a chain reaction with the plasma guns they carry... instead the burning plasma brings the Leader Jack to his knees.

With their Leader Down, everything has gone wrong for Unfolding Shadow, but then Nathan, emboldened by his past experiences, braver now he knows that pain fades and chicks dig scars, rallies the Delaques for their turn in what will be a deadly close range firefight. His own lasgun fires wildly into the darkness, but it inspires Harry's Heavy Plasma Gun to return fire. And the heavy plasma gun takes out the support column between the windows that the heavy bolter and lasgun fire was coming from. Matt takes hot plasma down the back of his neck, but Anna and Allis dive out the way, and suffer fleshwounds from the falling masonry.

Henry runs to cover Jack, and tries to supress the anticlockwise building, his splash of plasma dissolving the windowsills and guttering.

Ronnie though, his eyes filled with rage at seeing his brother taken down, opens up with his boltpistols. Each hand filled with iron seems to be firing unnaturally fast as he tried to reach Reggies prone form. But despite his impressive form, he can't find a target.

As the firefight rages below, Lira has been climbing the Gangway, out of notice, out of sight... but not out of reach, she ducks some wild bolter shells sprayed from one of the scummers pistols, and she picks him out as her target. She pulls the pin, and hardly has to throw as much as drop the grenade...

...

...

...

http://bestanimations.com/military/Explosions/Explode-04-june.gif

The Boom deafens everyone, ambusher or ambushee, but as the smoke clears Winfred is even bloodier, Reggie is out of action, and may be nothing more than bloody rags in the hazy smoke filled aftermath and Mike 'Eyed is has suffered shrapnel damage all over his forearms.

With the situation being so dire, and Jack out of Action, Nathan hastily organises the retreat, leaving the battle field to the ambushing Tunnel Foxes!

Icedaemon

2012-08-21, 02:02 PM

With the members of the unfolding shadow turning tail, again dragging their leader's unconscious though apparently still alive form, Rambrand lets loose a laugh.

He might not be so overjoyed were he in the coreward house, where Allis is carefully prodding at the prone form of Rambrand's cousin.

"Matt? You alright?"

A few seconds of prodding later, the man moans and opens his eyes. By that time, Anna has joined the other woman, visibly looking worried - her combat experience having notified her well enough of just how badly a plasma cannon can hurt a man. The bruise on her shoulder where the falling masonry hit her is already discolored, but vehemently ignored.

"Can you get up?"

Realizing that he's still laying flat on his stomach, Matt tries to move his arms to lift himself up. The motion changes what was a low moan into a half-scream half-roar of pain. After nearly blacking out, he composes himself just enough to speak, or shout.

"Xeno-****ing mutie son of a wyrd, that hurts!"

The two women, both having lived in the Underhive for over a decade, are unphased by the expletives, rather mild by the standards they've heard over the years. Rather, Anna simply walks out.

"Matt's hurt. He was in cover behind the support beam that plasma gun busted. Everyone else OK?"

Rambrand nods, his smile fading just a bit. Not one to support favouritism on principle, he walks to the abandoned structure with measured paces, if still not entirely slow ones. Looking around, he notes with a tinge of pride that the rest of his gang, even the juves entrusted to Honore, are in perfect condition. The Shadows are certainly not looking to be a candidate for the Stainless Steel Rats' old seat, not by a long shot.

"They landed all of one hit?"

"Looks like it. Damn good gun, that. Blew up the support beam and had enough oomph left over to scorch Matt."

Indeed, inside, the view is not exactly pretty. Having leaned against the support beam, assuming that it'd withstand anything the Delaques could throw at them was not Matt's brightest move, apparently. His Van-Saar-standard-bodysuit has partially melted and the flesh above his right shoulderblade is visible, severely burned. Tavin and Halbert, both still soft midhivers more than anything else, are visibly put off.

Noticing that Matt, despite being sprawled on the ground in the same position he was in previously, does have his eyes open and darting about, Rambrand addresses him.

"Can you move?"

"Anna already asked that. The pain goes from bad to chaos-courting horrid if I try to move my arms."

"All right. Tavin, Halbert, make yourselves useful for a change and lift him up. Carefully. Easy does it."

To the tune of various assorted curses and growls from Matt, the boys get him to his feet. Slowly and with plenty of wincing, he can lower his left arm, but any attempt to get the right one out of its unnatural position leads to yet more expletives, by now almost tiring.

"Come on. We'll get you to Fungusbreath's, or whatever it's called. It's only a short walk. Tavin, support him. Halbert, pick up his things. Lorraine, look around, try to see if the bald bastards dropped something of use, then follow."

As they head to the village, Matt tries to find the least painful shuffling steps. Even he can tell that despite his injury, the Tunnel Foxes victory was again quite a great one.

Adlan

2012-08-22, 04:47 AM

ROUND 2
Scavangers of McAdam's Spore Mine!

Cartier had climbed the Water tower, and with the Sarome, hoped to be able to spot the best fungus beds from their vantage point. Inside each Ring of Fungus Tree's, there were riches to be found.

Instead of Ironspore, or Giant Yellow Spotted Dreammakers, Cartier spotted the approach of Scavvies.

A Horde of them, no, two, spliting around the burned out equipment hanger, the ugly brutes advanced and the sharpshooter shouted a warning. It was heretically similar to the emperor blessed plan of Zippo.

Zippo himself had also spotted the Scavvies, sneaking around the buildings to the clockwise of old hanger. Sarome's fire missed, but Cartier following Zippo's instructions, lands a hit square on the most important looking scavvy, who cowers in the cover to avoid a more fatal second shot. Zeus's scatter cannon returns fire from the targeted group, catching Bic and Dupont, though the heavy only gets a few splinters, the nails and other rubbish stuffed down the barrel puts the young juve down.

But now Dupont is close enough to start cooking, He picks the ugliest scavvy he can see, resisting the urge to flinch at sight of his scars. Then he begins to sweep them away with holy flames. Amazingly, the ugly scavvy survives, ignoring the hideous screams (and to him appetising smell) as Letch caught the worst of it. Beney's shot gun ad's it's flames to the firefight, and Zeus lets out a hideous scream as the burning round lodges in his flesh.

The Scavvies return fire is pitiful, as Mange and Shivers, disliking recoil, have apparently cut down on the charge in their scatter guns, the projectiles bouncing harmlessly off of the robes of the faithful. Then, Lurch too, as accurate, suffers from a loss of stopping power. But at least they made the emperor botherer's keep their head down. They take advantage of this moment to break from their covered shelter, and dash across the open space, hoping to rush the Cawdors from their cover in the rubble.

But they forget Cartier and Sarome, who's volume of fire, along with Zippo's words convinces Dupont to rejoin the fight. The Scavvies are close! One flamer cannot reach them all, but then Zippo's hand flamer also bathes them in fire. Caesar is down, and so are Lurch and Mange. But Zeus still stands as does Shivers, and close combat is joined.

On the other side of the Chasm, Dunhill Senior leads the group, seeking vengeance against the whole underhive for the loss of his son. He has to settle for the 4 plague zombies that seem to have climbed up out of the Chasm, He lets them have the whole fuel tank, torching 3, one of which is still standing when Clipper's shot takes it out of action, Montblanc downs the other one after a second shot. It dosn't look good, no flamer fuel, and Clippers has no more stripper clips to load his pistol, but the Scavvies, seeing what damage that flamer can do, turn tail as soon as Lizards spear is left stuck in a fungus trunk, the licks of fire from the former neurone zombies behind them even more terrifying when a spore cloud catches, the sudden combination like a fuel/air bomb that illuminates the ill lit mining cavern for an instant.

Zippo holds off the Scaly, chanting while Dupont's massive club is wielded against it, the unclean beast struck down while the chainsword of the brotherhoods leader keeps it occupied. Beney[/B] chases off the Final Scavvy.

The Cavern is now theirs! Zippo's Brotherhood can hopefully make a profit off the many rare, (and hallucinogenic) exotic (and hallucinogenic) Fungi they find today.

Adlan

2012-08-24, 08:41 AM

ROUND 2
Police Action!

Reports that the miscreants responsible for the disturbance outside Ronsons Bar and Saloon fled Clockwise had resulted in this Patrol. Enforcer Glaze was 'rewarded' with command, and together with Taggart; Caine, Redstone and Vasquez made up the other group of this combat patrol.

They hadn't seen a sign of the gang fingered by the Cawdor residents of Corewards Rustholm. It was a fair bet either way which gangs started it, the Houses of Necromunda took their infighting and prejudice seriously.

"I dislike this, Lark. Spread everyone out. take Karra and Grimm with you and flank left. Skrugg! Take Brimm and Hovath and go right. Dakar, you madman take my left, and Harken, cover my rear." Corbin studied the map, then looked around quickly. "Skrugg, one, two, three, and post up facing clockwise. Lark, one, two, three, then counter-clockwise."

Corbin took his team slowly up the middle, while the two satellite teams moved in a bounding overwatch. Each numbered building was a overwatch point to cover. He wasn't worried about a back-up plan. His Gangers were smart and quick-minded. He knew even as they moved, Lark and Skrugg would have someone watching the rear and be eyeballing places to move is things went rimwards without warning. It had worked seamlessly in the last fight, save for that damned fool Hovath. The only part that worried him was whether or not Harken would be able to cover him and Dakar if someone showed up with some serious firepower.

Then, ahead of them, they caught a glimpse. The gang was coming to confront the Enforcer and had spotted them. In the world of underhive gangs, Patrol Betas uniforms were just another set of colours to contend with.

Corbin's hasty plan was working well, the three groups moving divided to join the fight united. Patrol Beta reacted to the sight of the gang, Caine, Redstone and Vasquez advancing behind the cover of buildings pushing along the clockwise edge of the conflict zone. Glaze and Taggart took advantage of the tall buildings, climbing the central 2nd storey tower. But when they reached their vantage point, the Orlocks were already advanced into the cover of the ruins only Hovarth was still exposed, his long run over the roof top walkways leaving him perilously exposed.

Glaze took advantage of that exposure, opening up with his heavy stubber. His first rounds of the burst caught the juve, and then they went high, the final rounds the enforcer walked down back onto the target, but miraculously, though hit twice, the plucky juve was still going, though his hands were blood slicked and shaking, he began his run again, only to pass out from loss of blood.

Taggart opened up with his bolter on the closer, partial targets but the cover conceals them too well.

The return fire begins from Brim, who's own fire smashes apart the cover the enforcers are using, one lucky round finding it only concealment and hitting Glaze, the round buried it self in his carapace armour. failing to detonate. Skrugg opened up with his autogun, but though a finely tuned weapon, his aim wasn't as good as his mechanical skills. Despite the settling dust and fallen masonry revealing more of the Enforcers Gun Nest, Kara's Autopistol fared no better. Lark then too opened up, his rounds hitting the bolter wielding Taggart, but though he expended his entire lasgun clip, he didn't waste it, managing to overwhelm even Enforcer carapace with weight of fire.

But then the Enforcers flanking went into action. Caine's executioner round flying wild, but alerting the Ironmen to their presence, as Redstone and Vasquez charged across the open street, using their supression shield to cover their movement.

Corbin quickly ordered the gang's response, those not firing on the gunnest to advance on the new threat. Lark retreated, dashing across the walkway, as Glaze's heavy stubber chewed apart the cover inches behind each step. Brims heavy bolter and Grims heavy stubber finally bring enough weight of fire to put down the source of the Enforcers firepower. With Glaze down calls from the tower, the Enforcers charge breaks off. The Orlocks Cheer to see the retreat of Patrol Beta! Slagburns Ironmen Fought the Law and Won.

Icedaemon

2012-08-24, 02:52 PM

Lorraine's information had unnerved Rambrand, though he insofar managed to hide that. Back in the village, he is now more than ever keenly aware of any Delaque or half-Delaque-looking scummers and other underhivers. The enemy attack might have been thrown back gloriously, but if the worst case scenario presented by the new girl is true, the Delaque supporters in the village were more numerous than he had anticipated.

Matt, still complaining and still moving in small hesitant steps, is ushered into a house. It's no hospital, but it'll do. At the least, it looks to be clean enough by the admittedly low standards of the underhive.

Rambrand knows little enough about medicine. Alcohol might be used to clean a wound more reliably than water, though the filth used in making Second Best would probably hinder more than help. He would need Wildsnake and that's expensive enough. Perhaps spending those credits on his fancy but ultimately barely useful visor was not the best of ideas.

Exiting the building again, Rambrand looks around. There was no overtly suspicious activity at hand, though of course quality suspicious activity is hardly easily noticed. Soon enough, he finds his de facto second-in-command.

"Anna. You take over in here. I'm taking Allis, Liria, Hal and Honore back to Rita's, double-check our gear and prep for whatever's coming next."

"Me, two juves and a guy who might be a crip? I could probably hold onto this dump on my own, but babysitting will cost extra."

Not quite in a joking mood, Rambrand replies with a momentary glare. When Anna's grin only widens, he realizes that his eyes and eyebrows are concealed by the visor.

Taking the eyepiece off, he leans closer and speaks softly.

"I'd appreciate you being serious for a moment. Honore can handle maintenance work on his own, it's practically why I hired him. You hold down the fort here, I've an appointment with a guilder."

---

With Lorraine scrounging for rumours and Tavin watching over his wounded relative, suspicious of among others the old woman who claims to be the closest thing this dungheap has to a doctor, Anna settles down in one of the ramshackle towers guarding the outer perimeter of the village, the one which provides ample lanes of fire not just towards outside threats, but also to any would-be liberators inside.

Meanwhile, reaching the Rita's Rover Repairs, Rambrand sets his units to work. While Honore and Halbert set up the gang's corner within the workshop to check up on the melta and plasma gun, the three women hit the shower, a rare amenity within the underhive and more likely to provide rusty brown water even on good days than anything else, but still an actual honest-to-the-emperor shower, likely originally built so that bus drivers who would be swapped out after a long trek could clean up and somehow still in working order.

He himself head to the owner of the repair shop.

"Red's due for his trip to the centre of Rustholm again. I'm taking Allis with. Once Honore and the rest are done with maintenence, they are yours if you have some odd jobs to deal out. In fact, Liria could do with learning some independent work, so once she's out of the showers..."

"Fine. She'll find a use."

"I'll also need creds for the market."

"What? Ask your followers, I paid you only a couple of days ago."

"That was a couple of days ago and it didn't go far. We needed the food and ammo. Me and the kids deserved a proper party for our incredible victory."

"How'd this fight go? Some of your lot are missing."

"Matt's got some burns, the rest are holding down Fungusbreath's in case they still think they can somehow slip out of our fingers. You changed the subject. Creds."

"All right. Here's thirty. At least your goons don't break things like some goliaths I could name."

Rambrand smiles and picks up a dented glass, filling it with the marvelous STC water cooler in the office's corner. It's not quite distilled and certainly has a bit of a metallic aftertaste, but it is cleaner than most drinks get in the underhive.

Excellent. Here's to our continued partnership.

As the women leave the shower, the experience being quite a new thing for Lorraine, the leader enters, noting her still confused and frightened but at least now clearly non-mutated face. The women already having found towels (or, in the juve's case, the cleanest oilcloth which covered her for the most part), he makes a note to ask the sisters if they spotted some mutation. While conflict with the Cawdor gangs is in all likelihood inevitable, it would not pay to provide them with an excuse.

Allis, clean our bodysuits and put on your prettiest face. We’re going to meet some friends who might be receptive to having you around.

---

Sitting by the old bus route, Rambrand glances back rimwards, then turns again towards the woman. She had clearly made the effort and he approves, wholeheartedly. While raised as an underhiver farm girl, Allis cleans up nicely and is obviously able to take care of her appearance, with the right supplies. She nearly looks too clean and pretty to possibly act as a properly useful guard in the underhive. With their Van Saar body suits clean and orderly and their las rifles almost looking fresh off the assembly line, the pair look less like gangers and more like PDF troops in parade uniform.

He turns again, hearing a familiar rumble. Indeed, not too long thereafter, the familiar halftrack rounds the corner. While the buses might have abandoned these routes long ago, there are reasons why certain tunnels seem to have almost no rubble blocking them. At least one of the reasons is right there, sitting next to the driver. As such, he gives a friendly wave. At the least the gunner, Old Morgan, replies with the same. While not exactly in the way of the halftrack, the two Tunnel Foxes were right where the route took it, ready for Rambrand's usual deal of tagging along and offering added protection in exchange for some trade benefits and a handful of credits.

As was the way last time and the occasion before that, the halftrack stops. To Rambrand, the faces within the vehicle, cobbled together from the front section of an open-topped double-decker, a largish van and the tracks of some ancient earthmoving tractor, are long-familiar. Old Morgan had been one of the senior members of the Red Reapers when the gang lost that final, fateful time. Elderly by the standards of underhive gangers though only a slight bit over fifty by the years of Holy Terra, he's been semi-retired in the company of this friendly trader ever since. The trader himself and his loyal chauffeur had been allies of the Red Reapers from the beginning, the driver allegedly close kin to a member of the Reapers who had long since been dead by the time Rambrand was recruited.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. This is Allis, one of my associates."

The girl provides a disarming smile followed by a curtsy, the motion appearing somewhat strange in the Van Saar bodysuit.

Climbing out from the cab of the halftrack, the Guilders brass icon clanged against his the chest of his own suit as he returned the bow. This was no ordinary VanSaar suit, instead the opulence of a guilder, even one who plied the underhive trade, was loosed on the survival suit that put gangers to shame. Erythrite "Red" Cobolt was a powerful man, though the red that gave him his nick name was evident only in his beard, his hair white like the clean air indicators on his collar.

"I hear you claimed back Reapers Reach" His voice sounds harsh with the years of breathing the dust and spores of the underhive.

"Heh, that was what we called it back in the day, before your time Ram my lad" The driver was leaning on the open door, using the abbreviation allowed by his veteran status with the old gang. In the underhive, if a stranger called you what your friends did, it could be a killing matter, but gang ties are thick.

Rambrand replies with a smile. Despite not technically being in the same gang at the same time as the old-timer, he does think of himself as continuing the legacy of his old comrades.

"Reaper's Reach? I like that. Sense of history there."

"Anyway, to Busisness" Red was nothing if not business minded. "If you are scuffing with the Delaques, I have what you are after, ammunition your usual."

He lead them round to the back of the cobbled together rig. He did indeed have the usual, but most of his shipment was Bio-boosters, sealed cases. One thing guilders didn't do was sell other peoples property. This was a transportation job, and the few goods on the side weren't that impressive.

Until he pulled out a Satchel. Marked with the Aquilla of Imperial Guard Issue kit. A fully stocked medi-pak.

As they walked, Rambrand addressed his ammunition concerns.

"Reliable as always, Red. Those lasguns you've sold us still work perfectly, Rita's got a power cable to the midhive and our power packs charge up without problems, bless the Emperor and his Mechanicus for those brilliant things. We've not run out of ammo yet, but you know how hungry a heavy bolter can get. A case of shells for that, a hydrogen flask for Honore and a pyrum-petrol tank for my melta, should be all the ammo I require."

Inspecting the kit, not opening it yet for fear of some contractual purchase coming from that alone, he speaks up.

"Nice. We haven't run into real casualties yet, but I am not half as sure in the Emperor giving a damn about some random underhivers lightyears from Terra as those Caws are, so that's more luck than anything and I don't exactly put my trust in luck."

"What sort am I looking at? Is this just a bag of medicine and synth-skin or one of those electronic devices? Can I take a closer look?"

"It's practically a field surgery. It's surplus now the shipments to Armageddon are over. Look," The Guilder opened up satchel, inside were the connections and readout showing a blank screen. But it flickered to life when Red turned it on. "It's all functioning, new battery, fully stocked with the chemo's you need to get the most out of it... 100 creds to an old Reaper."

Come on, Red. You know I don't have a hundred creds on me. Down here, for a gang that's just getting its legs that's a fortune and a half. You didn't ask that much for my melta and that's my pride and joy.

Depending on how much you pay me for the added protection we bring you in this chaos, I might be able to afford it at half off, but I'd be a stupid bastard to expect you to relinquish anything below cost. How's seventy-five sound?"

"I thought you said you’re smarter than offering me cost?"

"You wouldn’t be happy to settle for a hundred if seventy-five was cost, not that it would be if it really is surplus. Look, this is quality stuff, I can tell that much at a glance, I’m not some ignorant goliath. I’d give you eighty credits for something like that without a pang of guilt, but I don’t have that much on me. Even if we did something particularly impressive during this protection gig, we couldn’t afford both the ammo and the kit. With seventy-five we’d be eating rat stew and foot fungus all week."

"So you’re just wasting my time?"

Rambrand rubs his face, in particular giving a good rub to his beard.

"Why not hold onto that kit for a while? Next time you’re passing this way, I should have eighty creds on me."

"Fine. We do that. And it’s ninety credits. Final offer, we’re heading onwards either way."

With a sigh, Rambrand agrees. "You drive a hard bargain, Red. Always have. Still, you always carry have the best gear."

That said, he climbs up the double-decker’s stairs, joining Allis and Morgan as the trader closes the door. The engine never really stopped, tractor engines of the 41st millenium running on just about anything you can burn much as imperial tank engines do.

...Blew them away and scattered the whole bunch?

Yup. Sis did good.

"Hah. I remember when she was such a juve she barely knew how to hold onto a gun. Then again, I remember when Ram was that and he's done well for himself, looks like."

Rambrand smiles again at the old timer. The veteran had a cybernetic leg even when Rambrand had joined the Reapers and was for a long time known as Morgan Facepunter. It was paired with a cybernetic eye soon enough. The meticulously maintained autocannon on its 210 degree swivel mount might be the old-timer's weapon of choice at the now, but Rambrand knows enough to remember how gladly the chainsword currently strapped down at its base went into use if need be. Were Rustholm not in the chaotic mess it was in now, Erythrite wouldn't even consider hiring anyone beyond his two trusted companions to defend his rig. However, if one of these new gangs thought they could afford to go outlaw, they might conceivably have a chance. With Rambrand and one of his associates on board, able to use the balcony walls as cover to stop anyone who somehow managed to circumvent the autocannon, the threat was minimal and not worth it to all but the craziest gangers in the underhive.

"The Caws have been growing too big for their breeches. I've heard the bigger of the gangs wasted some scavvies and zombies, so lots of the common folk like them a lot right now. They've gotten cocky. Last I heard, they nearly knocked over some guilder fool enough to traipse down here without any muscle to keep the most obnoxious cliente at bay."

"Think they can take me?"

"Not in their wildest dreams. Heard one of them had an infinite flamethrower, but I doubt that'd matter once he's got a few of those fist-sized rounds you like bouncing around in his skull."

"Aye, flamethrowers tend to ruin the paintjob. Best not to let them get close. Any news on the arbitrators?"

While Rambrand did work under the assumption that he was being addressed, Allis was right there and was under the older ganger's eye and was already eagerly opening her mouth, the underhive-native girl obviously smart enough to tell that any life-long ganger with the moniker 'Old' was someone to take careful note of. Thus, Rambrand took the opportunity to look around instead. A dome was to be around them momentarily.

"They're on the other side of Rustholm from us. Still playing nice with everyone, but who'd trust an enforcer?"

entering the dome, the group was silent bar the rumbling of the engine. Despite their verbal flippancy regarding any potential attacks, neither Rambrand nor Morgan were willing to take chances. Quick enough on the uptake, Allis too scanned the perimeter. The ruins were empty as ever though, lacking even a particularly large mutant rat.

Indeed, the market was reached without incident. Even the settlement was quiet. If some groups of would-be-toughs considering if they could pull off being a gang did take appraising looks at the halftrack, the armed trio milling around on top or around it dissuaded them well enough. The normally vocal and proud Orlocks were hardly seen and there were few armed cawdors in the streets, those being civilians or juves with meagre stub guns at most. Allis even had time to chat with some old acquaintances from back when she was still a holesteader's little girl, people whom Red quickly managed to wrangle into buying his wares.

In the end though, Rambrand was disappointed.

"Ten creds, Red? We did more than provide pleasant conversation to while away the time."

"You did. Bringing that pretty girl along got me a few extra customers. That's why our contract still stands. Maybe this was just a nice and safe, slow day, maybe things are stabilizing again. I am happy to trade with you, Van Saar is sane enough to provide a pleasant change of pace and I like having friends wherever I go, but when I don't need to pay for an escort, well."

"Just a lucky hour. I'd wager things get worse before they get better again."

"Fairly obvious, that, innit? As Red said, we'll continue using your services, but he rarely pays for just sittin' around."

"Right. 'll be seeing you."

As the merchant drives off, now inside an area protected at least in name by arbitrators and certainly a place where anyone trying a hit on a guilder would be immediately known, Rambrand and Allis visit the food market, picking up enough quality foodstuffs to keep the gang from going hungry.

On their way back, Rambrand addressed the young woman.

"So. New girl. Mutie?"

"Nah. Didn't notice anything, not even a little tail like inbred folk tend to get. Just skittery."

When they finally got back home, Rambrand found that the rest of the gang had set up a firing range in the old ruins close by. Much to his surprise, even Matt was there, still a bit stiff but apparently able to take shots at stuffed dummies, at the least. How much of his body suit's back was recovered is unknown to Rambrand at this point, the cousin wearing a leather vest over the presumably still partially ruined garb. Obviously, everyone present, even Honore, was using a las weapon as to not waste non-rechargeable ammunition. Giddy from her day, interesting and fun from her perspective, Allis joined the group. Only Anna and Lenore were missing, the former Escher apparently still guarding the village.

"Liria."

You see that shot, chief?

"You are getting quite good with that thing. You probably don't need the stub gun."

I sure don't! Wait, why bring that up?

"The new girl is mostly legit, looks like. She does not deserve a proper body-suit yet, but she should at least have a gun."

And you are too cheap to buy her one?

Rambrand replies with a glare. He might not want to play the tyrant, but neither does he intend to be talked back at.

Fine, take it.

Shrugging, the woman unholsters the crude pistol. She is not particularly attached to it, but this sharing nonsense is still not her personal preference.

Etcetera

2012-08-24, 04:08 PM

Zippo stubbed out his cigarette, newspaper and mushroom ash mingling in what was probably a human skull. Colours never before seen by man swirled and twisted before him. The skull sprouted legs and ran away.

Clearly the Emperor was trying to tell him something. This was going to take a lot more prayer. He rolled another smoke, the deftness of his hands belying that fact that he was stoned out of his mind.

***

Ronson finished off the last dregs of his sumpwine, slamming his mug onto the bar top and glancing around for the barman. As the potent spirits turned his liver into something resembling chocolate mousse, they loosened their hold on his brain slightly.

Ah, yes. He was the barman.

Where was everyone, anyway? Normally Zippo and the boys would be round this time of night, drinking, praising the Emperor, and setting anything that looked at them funny on fire. Come to think of it, they hadn't invited him to any of their punch-ups, either. It was like everyone had forgotten about him.

***

OOC for a moment. Ronson's Bar is marked on the Rustholm map, and I'm sure I remember adding him to my roster, but he isn't anywhere on there. I'm trying to work out what point his disappeared at, and if his disappearance gave me any disadvantage (because I'm petty like that).

Adlan

2012-08-24, 04:17 PM

Ronson was a character I invented to be the barman. I don't know if you added him as a ganger.

thegunslinger

2012-08-26, 05:57 PM

Aquila knelt next to Deacon's bed. The young juve had come to respect the older ganger, acknowledging that there were skills and traditions that he still had to learn, to better serve the Emperor and House Cawdor. Deacon was unconscious and had been that way for several days now. The chewed wound in his side was infected, with worms of black crawling through his veins. It was touch and go as to whether the man lived, that was clear. What was still uncertain was whether he then began un-life as a walking plague zombie.

Aquila reached over and lit another candle, placing it gently amongst the others. Dozens of them surrounded Deacon's bed, the flickering light illuminating his face. Even beneath the mask that covered the man's head, Deacon looked pale. His jaw was clenched. The neurone plague was clearly painful. Before succumbing to unconsciousness, Deacon had cracked several of his teeth.

'Emperor watch over you, brother', murmured Aquila 'and come back to us soon.'

A wheezing hiss behind him let Aqulia know that the Doc had come back to look at his patient. Harumash was in the other room and was similarly afflicted. He was not as loved as Deacon and only a few candles flickered around his bed. The other ganger was a bit of a bastard, truth be told and whilst no one in the gang wanted to put a bullet through a former gang member, not many people would weep for him afterwards. So Doc Stumps spent as much time keeping the incense candles burning in his room as he did administering the balms and ointments to the man's wounds.

'Precious little evidence that the Emperor is with us down here, boy.' muttered Doc Stumps. 'Or maybe He likes looking at sump rats and muties, do you think?'

Aquila turned slightly, looking back at the Doc over his shoulder. The casual blasphemy irritated him. 'All things the Emperor sees, All things the Emperor knows - Saint Ophelia'.

'Ah! We're quoting scripture, are we? Very well. 'Abhor the things in the darkness, shun them and do not seek them - Saint Helestia' replied the Doc, with a small smile.

'Knowing that the Emperor doesn't want us to walk with heretics and the other things he's cast out doesn't mean the Emperor isn't looking at them, Doc.' replied the juve. 'It just means we're not supposed to stray from the path'.

The Doc grunted. 'If I was the God-Emperor, I'd spend my time looking at the Cathedrals up-Hive, instead of down here. Much rather listen to that and look at the Sisters than anything here.'

'I suppose that's one of many reasons you're not the God-Emperor, praise His name. That and it's not like you become one by collecting coupons or something.' Aquila smiled slightly back. Yes, House Cawdor were a ruthless bunch of Emperor-botherers. Some levity was allowed, though.

Chuckling, the Doc replied 'If it were so, then your friend lying on the pallet would be able to stuff his mattress with them and no mistake. If anyone's going to pull through, it will be him.'

Reaching past the younger ganger, Doc Stumps opened a small vial. He cracked the seal on it and applied it to the wound on the man in front of him. Almost immediately, the ganger stiffened, his hands curled into fists so tight that he gouged marks into his palms with his fingernails. His toes also curled and his heels began a staccato drum beat on the floor.

Aquila turned to the Doctor quickly 'What did you give him! What the hell just happened?'

The Doc wiped the wound and flushed it with a spray bottled.
'Damned if I know son, but I bought that lotion from the other Cawdors near here - figured if anyone could brew an antiseptic we could trust, it'd be Zippo and his lot. '

Aquila frowned and helped hold his friend down. Surely another gang from House Cawdor wouldn't be watering down medidrugs with sump run off?

*******

Death to Xenos heard the commotion before he saw it. Several voices up ahead were both laughing and shouting in equal measure. A ring of pilgrims and other hab dwellers had formed around whoever was causing the commotion. The ganger pushed his way to the front of the crowd, noting that several other members of the gang had also moved through to see what was going on.

Two underhivers were sitting in the middle of the cracked street, one was laughing uncontrollably, stuffing detritus into his mouth and then vomiting it up, rolling around in his own effluence. He laughed and laughed, tears running down his face, completely oblivious to everything around him. The other hiver sitting next to him was the polar opposite. His mouth was jammed shut, veins bulging in his face as he screamed and screamed through his clenched teeth. He grabbed at himself, eyes darting and looking at each of the crowd members in turn.

As Death to Xenos moved forward to demand just what on Holy Terra was going on, the first ganger stopped laughing and turned to his fellow. With a huge guffaw, he bit the other ganger square on the cheek, laughing and squealing as he did. The second ganger screamed louder before both of them, almost simultaneously, fell to the ground. They convulsed several times and were still, arms wrapped around each other as if they were lovers.

Death to Xenos nudged the two with his boot. He was ready and willing to do whatever was necessary to put the two lunatics down for good, but wanted to find out what the hell was going on. When neither of them stirred, he gingerly bent down and touched them. 'They're dead!' he stated, more for the crowd's benefit than anything. 'Anyone know what in the warp caused this?'. The habbers and underhivers around him shook their heads, already starting to disperse now that nothing interesting was happening.

Death to Xenos rifled through the men's pockets. He pulled out a vial from each of them, seal already snapped. Only one place nearby sold this sort of thing. Zippo's Brotherhood out of Ronson's bar.

Adlan

2012-08-27, 07:25 AM

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Round2.jpg

Adlan

2012-08-28, 03:43 AM

ROUND 3
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/newspaper-3.jpg
With a new gang in the area, will violence rise? After their defeat by the Tunnel Foxes, will Unfolding Shadow survive the Dark journey home? Who will rule the House of Cawdor, Holy Flame or the Brotherhood? What about the Ironmen's Struggle with the Van Saar?

Zippo's Brotherhood vs Members of the Holy Flame
Gang Fight
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/FD609BA8-B809-4E11-B13D-F06B5DD1D87E-2647-000002712DFADB0C.jpg
The confrontation between the two gangs of house Cawdor occurs on the road between the Holy Flames Chapel, and the Brotherhoods Bar. Most of the buildings here are abandoned and ruinious, but this close to the settlement, they are often used and many sturdy walkways connect them. The Gangs Advance from their respect territories, Brotherhood entering from the Clockwise Edge, Holy Flame anticlockwise.

Purple Cloaks vs Zombies
Gang Fight
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/7B7B8C0E-1729-4B07-AEE6-9DFB384C01FE-2647-00000271270AF3A6.jpg
They Purple Cloaks have spotted a few Neurone Plague Victims around their new territory. They could fall back, contact the authorities and wait for the law, or the guilders to deal with the problem... or if they want to get it done this life time, they can take it into their own hands and clean out the area. They enter from the Corwards Edge.

Delaques
- Escape
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/B2BAC349-C089-420F-B90A-B89E2452F253-2647-000002713493CF92.jpg
Dark isn't it?

Escape from the Tunnel Foxes has lead you into an unlit dome, enroute back to the Dirty Den, you are lost in the darkness. Fortunately, the next turning looks like there's light that way... flickering light? Or is it someone? or Something?

thegunslinger

2012-08-28, 05:31 PM

Adlan

2012-08-28, 05:35 PM

er. How does one approach clockwise?

Is that the top left corner of the map, or bottom right? Or something else?

I'll have my plan PM'd to you as soon as I know which direction I'm approaching from.

For Clockwise read north, for Anticlockwise read South. It's part of the flavour, just like Corewards and Rimwards. Essentially, there is no concept of direction except relative to the hive, so you either go towards the core, towards the rim, and you go clockwise round the core or anticlockwise.

Papa Doc

2012-08-29, 01:29 AM

"That kid is gonna get us all bloody killed, Corbin."

Corbin looked up from his meager meal of unidentifiable gruel and stared down his lieutenants. Skrugg nursed his rifle, toying with the sights and occasionally launching a small lump of phlegm at the spittoon. Lark sat with her arms crossed, glaring at Corbin, who turned his head slightly to address the accusing statement. "Never judge a ganger by his first battle, or his second. A man-" Lark coughed loudly, "A ganger who hesitates in his first battle may rush forward to attack in his second, and a ganger who charges blindly in his second battle may prove to be a fool or a coward in his third. I'd wager that's what happened against the Enforcers. He may still prove useful, given that he actually gave a damn this time to keep his piece in working order. Have Harken work on some longer-ranged marksmanship with him. If he slacks off, put him in the Bearpit against Dakar for a few rounds."

"If you ain't a thinker and you ain't a shooter, you're damn well gonna be a tough SOB. I'll put him to it, Boss."

"Good." Corbin slurped a spoonful of gruel from his spoon and grimaced, but managed to swallow. "We're painfully low on money. We've been surviving by pure luck so far, but I'll be damned if our luck holds. I'm gonna go rough up our 'banker' later tonight and make sure he's doing his sums to the letter. Meantime, you all get on the trail of who set us up to walk into that gunfight. There weren't no informant there, and those Enforcers are too green to be setting us up like that. Lark, that's your job."

Dakar strode in with his shotgun and a wild look in his eye. "Why have the bird hunt other birds? The huntsman has his fowling piece, and seeks the mockingbird." The group stared in silence, waiting for the madman's droning to make sense. "Seek the Foxes in their den, for foxes hold secrets, and secrets are what we wish. The huntsman will seek the foxes while the masters plot and play."

"The Tunnel Foxes, eh? You trust your source?"

"One notes that a bird on the wing may flit and chirp, but a bird pinned to the table shrieks the truth with his dying breath."

Lark noted a red stain on his knife's hilt and still-fresh crimson liquid spattered on his boots, in his hair, and under his fingernails.

* * *

Karra stood with Hovath and Harken in the scrapyard that served as their training facility watching Brimm and Grimm fight it out with wooden knives. They collided with a matched pair of deafening shouts, straining as though trying to kill one another. One would seldom have guessed that they were among the most intelligent members of the gang, and likewise brothers if not for the striking physical resemblance.

"So what's with you and that ganger, Lark? You two seem...close."

Karra shot him a dark look and balled her bony hands into fists, turning her head a bit so that her hair hid the scar on her face. "She understands me. My loss...my struggles...my pain. Not that it's your business."

"Just askin' love. Ya know, it was a Cawdor gang what killed her old girlfriend. That's what drove her to the Ironmen." Harken rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet for a minute and sucked at his teeth. "You two work well together. See that you stay on her good side. Every juve needs a mentor, of sorts."

Hovath grunted and spat into the dirt. "I'm not snuggling up with no one, no matter how many times they put me in the pit with Dakar."

Harken turned a bit and shot the juve a dark look. "Watch your mouth. Skrugg only put you in there because you were slacking off. Nearly died against them Enforcers. Nearly got Lark killed 'fore that. Might be time to do some killing of your own, or find a new line of work. Dakar gets a bit wild in the pit sometimes...Now go back to the firing line and work on pretending you know how to shoot."

The juve rubbed at the aches all over his body from the wild man's "lesson" in the bearpit. For someone with a half-addled brain, he didn't mess around when it came to up-close work.

Etcetera

2012-08-29, 05:06 AM

Zippo twisted his neck into an uncomfortable position, trying to decipher the collection of squiggles and lines on the paper. Eventually he realised the sheet was probably a map, and not a psalm as he had first thought. How disappointing.

***

Dupont and Dunhill Snr were engaged in an interesting debate on the subject of religious tolerance. More specifically, how to destroy it at all costs. Dupont favoured shooting, while Dunhill was a big fan of getting up close and personal with an axe. It was truly a gripping moral quandary.

***

Meanwhile, the rest of the gang set about preparing for the actual battle. Prayers were said, weapons were cleaned, bets were made, havoc was cried, and the dogs of minor conflict were let slip. One way or another, this was going to be bloody.

Cartier rushed up to Zippo, bursting with enthusiasm and cheap booze. He had an idea. Zippo blanched. It was very un-Cawdorican. Some might even say cowardly.

But then again, they wouldn't be calling cowards anyone if they were dead! Zippo was hit with glorious inspiration! Had not Saint Agatha said "The Emperor cares not how you cause the blood of the heretics to flow, only that it flows!"? Zippo was sure he remembered it being something like that. Maybe not Saint Agatha, though. Now that he recalled, she was the Patron Saint of Florists.

Still, a plan was a plan was a plan, and if the plan wouldn't save a few of the Brotherhood then at least plasteel and ferrocrete should. Faith was well and good, but it didn't hurt to supplement it with the occasional wall.

dhenn

2012-08-29, 09:32 AM

Mid-Hive, Twelve Years Previously

"In business, as in all things, my dears, timing is everything." The matriarch of the Bairbre family paced in front of her children. There is no such thing as tragedy, only failure to take advantage of an opportunity. Remember that.

Three days ago a minor hivequake collapsed a small section near the outer skin. Thousands were dead, or would be shortly. But more importantly, the facilities of a rival family were utterly destroyed, and another competitor had seen their largest smelter damaged beyond repair.

Officially, the Bairbre clan was participating in public mourning, attending prayer vigils, donating to help defray the medicae costs of survivors, and offering skilled workers to assist in rebuilding efforts. Behind closed doors, though, Lady Bairbre was working feverishly to secure materials contracts suddenly unable to be filled by their previous holders. Her mother hadn't slept since, but had increased work orders by 17%.

You may perhaps be too young to see this now. You may think my actions in poor taste. But if I were not to act, others would, and our family would be threatened by their power. Some day, likely not too far off, you are like to find yourself in a similar position. I pray you, too, shall have the wisdom to do what is needed for yourself and those under your care.

Today

There it was, the groan of zombies. She knew there was a reason this territory was abandoned.

The Cloaks had only really begun to exist as a coherent force when the Ratz collapsed, still just one of dozens of minor groups active in and around Rustholm. Those vying to replace them had wasted no time in going for the throats of their most potent foes.

That left an opportunity for those of lesser status. With serious retaliation unlikely, Pavlina began searching for a permanent home for her dozen followers, plus the Doc. Scarcely anyone had noticed as her team took control of several abandoned hab-blocks, and discovered the valuable resources not far at all from there, completely deserted, unclaimed, and ripe for the taking.

By now, the fact that no one of importance had seemed to notice was almost confusing, but the now-audible groans explained that. Of course the big guns don't care about this area. The piddling returns are scarcely worth dealing with the neurone plague. But perhaps this could be an opportunity as well.

Pavlina raised a hand, halting her team. Her eight fellow full members wore deep purple cloaks, robes, or capes, depending on personal style. Identical uniforms are an undue luxury this far downhive. The three newest members, the Doc's daughter and two girls living alone in one of the gang's abandoned hab, had to content themselves with purple head- and armbands for now.

Neske, Naiara, Dervla, get up there, waving her pistol towards a trio of buildings, formerly industrial control centers by the looks of them. Take the young'ns with you. Rest of you, with me, jogging towards the utterly burned out shell of another nearby building. Weapons out!

As she got settled behind the barricade, pistol at the ready, Pavlina activated her chainsword. The roar as the engine started turned all the zombies towards her, just in time for the Purple Cloaks to launch their opening salvo.

Adlan

2012-08-30, 11:41 AM

Slagburn's Ironmen vs Tunnel Foxes
Hit and Run - Bushwack

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/597E12C5-8B72-46C3-A80F-25CC8BB364EA-2647-000003953C434960.jpg

The Range
This area of the ruins lacks numerous intact buildings, though a sparse handful does still dot the surface, several of the surviving buildings of the tough multi-storey type. Due to being close to a major road, the area has seen a huge share of scavengers and as a result most of the structures have long since been turned into rubble, with any income often taking the form of loot off the bodies of would-be treasure hunters from a few decades back who noticed a building was on the verge of collapsing a little too late. The Tunnel Foxes have turned it into their shooting range and it's here that the Ironmen hope to catch the Tunnel Foxes leader unawares.

thegunslinger

2012-08-30, 04:30 PM

All of the juves had their own way of dealing with the stress pre-battle. Aquila was standing in the doorway, thumbing his rosary beads over and over, whispering hurried prayers while he did so. Death to Xenos and Methuselah chanted a plainsong in canon, virtually under their breath. Both of them being members of the chapel choir, the familiar verses calmed them down. Praise be His Name stretched his neck and shoulders, waiting for the go decision from their leader.

Several gangers stood in the house next to do them, performing final checks on their weapons and ammunition. The gangers were less nervous than the juves next door, but still aware that this fight wasn't running of scavs or punishing zombies. This was their first real fight against a living foe and it wouldn't do to underestimate them, even if they were faithless scum who pedalled the worst sort of drugs. At least, pedalled the worst sort of drugs and didn't have the common decency to cut them in on the action.

Elizah moved from hab to hab, exchanging a quiet word with each of the gang members in turn. What he said was similar to each of them, a blessing here and a quiet word of encouragement there. He asked if each of them new their part in the plan and was pleased to hear that his course of action was grasped by the gang.

The juves weren't going to waste any time hanging about, the fight was going to become up close and personal as soon as they could bring it about. Fortunately, there was plenty of cover to allow them to get close enough without experiencing much return fire. Combined with the presence of their leader, the Emperor's blessing and good dose of underhive luck, the juves would be able to smite their foes in righteous retribution. Or they'd make a bit of a song and a dance before Elizah chopped their foes into pieces with the monomolecular power sword he had strapped to his back.

The gangers were going to provide support to the group going in. Shotguns with fresh hot shot shells and holy flamers were going to support the juves. There were bound to be enemies more dangerous than the rest of their fellows - pinning them would allow the juves to bring the fight to the enemy.

Elizah gave a low whistle - it was time. The juves stepped out of the door frame, heading towards the next piece of cover. The first desultory enemy shots spanged off the metal rebar around them, to be met by the first return fire from the gangers. The fight had started.

Adlan

2012-08-30, 05:37 PM

Zombies IC
The Most famous chempit in Necromunda is of course the Sump, the unstable, unstound area filled with the Tox from above. A heaven for the unstable and unsound, mutants heretics and neurone plague zombies. But it is not the only polluted area to harbour the unclean. Nearly a Score of the infected occupy what could be valuable salvage.

Round Three
Purple Cloaks Begin Chemical Clensing

Entering in two groups the House of Escher makes it's first foray into combat. Their distinctive colour clothing blending with the shadows as the sneak towards their positions. They deploy without attracting attention, but as the group lead by Pavlina, acommpanied by the gangers weilding shot guns the shotguns, and the combat gangers with their Chains and Bludgeon enter the Clockwise (Northern) most building, the Zombies stumble into the open.

3 figures are in the range of Naiara and Dervla's plasma guns. Naiara's first blast is a low power, falling short. The power conserving setting doesn't stop Dervla splatting one down though, it's legs were bubbled away, but it didn't stop crawling towards the source of light and heat.

Neske's Lasgun shot flies wide as she moves to get a better firing position for the next round. The Juves covering the ladders up to the heavies positions level their pistols and try and down the remaining two, both hitting, but only Ravi's shot damaged a shambler, blasting an arm off though it continued advancing.

Six more Zombies stagger out of the rubble, and from the first floor Udara and Osane open up, their scatter shot smashing into four, but the spread of the shot resulted in only one brain dead victim ending it's unlife.

Pavlina opens up with her plasma pistol, as do the gangers with her, Carys the only one who's shot tells, downing the gathering horde to four.

From the chempit, like a mass of rotten logs, blistered and half dissolved, grotesquely distorted four more figures rise, now six threaten the heavies and their guards. This is reduced to 4 as the closest 2 are vapourised, their torso's burned away by Naiara and Dervla's plasma. Then Neske's nails one clean through the torso with her Lasgun, but to no avail, it takes Alda and Rava emptying their laspistol cells into it to bring it's motion to end.

At the Clockwise edge of the field, the Zombies have closed to hand to hand, Pavlina, Carys, Tondra and Dezirinda are forced to retreat, and then Udara and Osane Down the closest, cutting a gap to cover their leaders retreat.

The return fire from Pavlina and her gangers is brutal as the leader lets lose, her Plasma blast burning the chasing plague victim. Tondra's laspistol downs the next, leaving a solitary shambler mph? insensibly through a missing jaw. Udara switches to a solid slug, which dismantles the rest of the zombies head.

The remaining zombies can be seen shambling forth from the crystals, two form the rimward growth, appearing between the shimmering quartz like crystals, grown huge and in lurid colours on Tox Spill from uphive.

From the Corwards stand, six stagger forth. The crystals flash as two are burned to cinders, Naiara and Dervla both down one, Neske misses, perhaps confuesed by the glimmering cover. Alda and Rava both suffer from the same dazzle.

Osane draws a bead and it's her solid slug out of the shotguns that puts down the furthest shambler. The closer is charged. And in hand to hand, Pavlina's intricate style with the chainsword indiciative of her old life mid-hive, while Dezirinda's workwoman like blow ends the neurone victims existence.

The Plasma guns reap again, but the remaining two infected continue on, weathering las bolts and clumsily scaling the ladder. At the top they are met by Onora, who brutally uses her knives, skewering the first through the brain and the second falls to it's doom.

The Purple cloaks are victorious! Now begins the arduous task of turning the place into somewhere liveable...

dhenn

2012-08-31, 05:41 AM

The days after the infected were driven off were a blur of activity.

Carys was still out dredging the chem pits. She had volunteered for the difficult and unpleasant duty because she knew her performance at the battle was sub-par. No one in the Underhive makes it to adulthood without seeing their share of bloodshed, but dealing with plague victims is altogether more trying, and she had frozen.

Everyone else had performed quite admirably, and it seemed like the group was really coming together. Onora, the youngest and newest of the lot, had truly proven herself, and the other juves, though older by at least two years, seemed to look up to her.

She was in the alley behind the ruined hab trying out her new laspistol. Udara was with her, having borrowed Neske's lasgun, trying out something a bit more precise. Meanwhile, Naiara was helping the less experienced members clean and prepare their weaponry.

"See here, this dirt's gonna make the mech'nism seize up. Good way to get yerself kilt."

Pavlina, meanwhile, was poring over sketches of the surrounding area. This battle was going to call more attention to them, not all of it good. It would be better to capitalize on that momentum before someone else did. The Tunnel Foxes and Ironmen held the most sway nearby. Perhaps it was time to test their defenses...

Adlan

2012-08-31, 06:08 AM

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/GamesPoster.jpg

Adlan

2012-08-31, 05:28 PM

Theological Debate
Members of the Holy Flame vs Zippo's Brotherhood

As the Brotherhood advance onto the field, they see little movement on the right of Corewards side of the road. But as Cartier and Sarome advance, scaling the tower on the Rimwards field, they could see the motion of advancing masked figures. The Holy Flame on the Move.

Bic and Montblanc ocuppied the ground floor on the building, readying their shot guns from the cover of a gap in the ruined wall to cover the open ground and alley way leading away. Likewise Clipper, and Beney occupied the window ready to treatianyone who gets too close to a fusillade of slugs, incendiary rounds and taunts.

The Holy Flame Advances through the cover, and Cartiers first shot at them is a miss. But it scares up Abrahams, who runs for better protection, only to catch Sarome's Snapshot in the arm. But it dosn't stop his movement, and the two waves of Masked Members of the Holy Flame continue on.

The next two shots from the top of the tower were misses, but then from the ground floor, the Brotherhoods shotguns could draw a bead. Four shots smashed through the corrugated iron concealment, but only shrapnel from Clippers round did any damage, cutting Deacon, but again, not harming him seriously.

Now the Holy Flames Shotguns spat an answer, Death to Xenos and Harumash downing Clipper and Beney. Bic was pinned by the weight of lead bearing down on him, but Montblanc could snap off a shot, that began burning in a already half melted plascrete beam.

Zippo lead Dupont and Dunhill Snr around the base of the building, Ready to drive the Holy Flame from cover. The Flamers licked against the walls, but they didn't do more than singe the Holy Flame, Zippo's Plasma gun though, did more than singe, and Jebediah went down to the blast of heat and light, despite his herculean effort to stand, the burning pain wouldn't let him.

Then Elizah rallied his Juves, and charged, the Windows and Gaps in the ruin proving no obstacle as they swept into hand to hand with Zippo and the Brotherhoods heavies.

Gritting his teeth at the flesh wound he received, Jebediah recovered from the blistering injury with his head long charge towards the enemy gang position. His votive prayer-sheets fluttering in the wind, Jebediah gave praise to the Emperor as he neared his foe. But with Elizah waving his power sword around, he couldn't use his flamer in support. Obediah with his fearsome weapon moved ready to clear the ground floor of the tower.

Elizah, his power sword crackling, is more than a match for anyone in hand to hand. Chopping down Dunhill Sr. he then scans the battlefield for his next foe and with a yell sprints towards Zippo, who is brawling with the juves, batting back their chains with his chainsword.

But the crackling blue power field is swiftly against Zippo's throat. It seems the theological debate will be cut short, the will of the Emperor is clear.

Members of the Holy Flame win!

thegunslinger

2012-08-31, 09:09 PM

With the rest of the Brotherhood taking to their heels, Elizah waved his gangers up. 'Take position up there and over there. Make sure none of them come back through this way. I doubt this lot will find their courage again, but you never know. Sump-crazed warpspawn don't always know when they've been beaten'

The gangers moved to obey their leader, hurrying to their positions. 'Jeb - not you. I want your help with something.'

The burned ganger turned to his leader, the cauterised scar on the side of him making him wince. Worse, half of his hymnals had been burned and scorched by the flame, leaving several other smaller burns around the impact-hit.
Anyone else would have been lying on the hive-floor, screaming. But the stoic heavy met Elizah's gaze levelly. The gang leader could see that the heavy was mouthing litanies of deliverance under his breath, no doubt to ward off the waves of pain.

'If you're well enough for it, brother - I believe that we can get the information we're looking for out of this one here.' Elizah nudged the unconscious form of Clipper, who groaned.

Jebediah stopped his prayers long enough to grin a long, awful grin. In his experience, nothing helped get rid of your own pain as well as inflicting it on someone else

***

The screams echoed around the habs. Some of the more faithful uttered prayers and made the sign of the Aquila as they hurried away. Most of the hivers who heard the bellowing, high-pitched scream merely shrugged. They lived in a settlement run by House Cawdor and Elizah was known to be a bloodthirsty son of a bitch. The odd bit of torture was to be expected. After all, Cawdor Gangers were known to scourge themselves in their eagerness to get close to the Emperor's purity. It was more than likely that any poor bugger hauled in by his lot, even another Cawdor, was going to be in for some religious suffering.

Clipper awoke to see a masked face staring at him upside down. It took a few moments for the drug-addled ganger to make sense of what was going on around him. Why was this clearly senior member of the Holy Flame standing upside down in-front of him, swaying gently from side to side? Did he get into a batch of 2nd Best, thought the ganger, or something else? Thinking about it a bit more, he realised that no, the ganger in front of him was standing on the ground. He was hauled up into the air by a chain around his legs.

'Ah, good. You're awake.' said Elizah. 'How're you feeling?'.
Clipper frowned a bit. 'You know, surprisingly enough, I feel pretty good. All things considered, I think it could have gone a lot worse. After all, we're all friends here, right?' Clipper grinned hopefully. It wasn't easy to show humble contriteness whilst hanging from an I-beam, but he was making a good show at doing so. Doubly so, as the man who had just hung him there stepped around into his line of site. Oh God-Emperor, thought Clipper. That's the bastard that stopped a plasma shot and still kept on coming. So I guess we're not all friends here, after all.

Elizah saw Clipper notice Jebediah. He saw the upside-down ganger blanch at the sight of the heavy, who was making sure that his wounded side was facing him, the still fresh burns showing clearly.

'Jeb here suffered at the hands of those who should be righteous. You dishonour our House name, peddling crap to the underhivers here. Tell me, where do you make this stuff?' Elizah's voice was matter of fact, as if he was asking where the best place to get a ratburger was. However, Clipper heard the fwump of a pilot light igniting behind him.

His mouth dry, Clipper stammered 'w..well, I don't rightly know. Please, it's the truth!'.

Elizah didn't bother to reply, but pushed the hanging ganger gently, causing him to spin around in a lazy circle. As he spun, he noticed all sorts of eerie shadows being cast from the small flame that was burning. He'd never concentrated on a small blue flame in his life as much as he did right then.

As the luckless ganger kept twisting, Elizah pulled up a small seat and sat down. 'You know, they say that you don't really feel the first bit of the flame when it sears your skin. Apparently the nerve endings just shut down as they're burned to a cinder. Feels like someone's running an ice-cube across your back. There's no blood, at least at first, because usually the wound cauterises shut.'

Clipper tried to stop the small smile from starting across his lips. He'd heard this one before.

Elizah continued 'however, after that you do feel the pain. Oh yes. Pure, unadulterated. The most significant of experiences. The most keenly felt emotion. The one aspect of man that is shared with Him on Earth.'

Clipper grinned. 'Oh yes. About now is the bit where you scare me into telling you things, right? But really you just run an ice cube across my back and I feel like an idiot. Haha, ok right, yes you got me.'

Elizah grinned right back at him. 'No, brother. This is the bit where we get you to talk.'

***

Clipper awoke in a tunnel. His legs and buttocks ached where the brand had been applied. Amazingly, his equipment - including his battered lasgun - was next to him in a neat pile. He was ashamed that he gave away the location of the drug-stash in the ruins near the base, but at least he was alive.

Icedaemon

2012-09-01, 08:13 AM

The day after the trade with Red, Rambrand strode into the still-lived-in habdome. He glances at the corrugated metal fence splitting the ruined and desolate parts of the once large dome from the quarter still inhabited. While the Van Saar sigil might swing proudly in the settlement's centre, the pitiful sign above the entrance boasts the unimpressive name of Downup.

Addressing the townsfolk, he puts on his best oratory manner.

"I've heard tell this settlement has more history than most. For some of you, your ancestors lived here while this was still a true hive city hab. As the underhive rose, the hardiest folk stayed in their homes. I've heard tell of this settlement having dozens of different names under hundreds of would-be conquerors and gangers."

"From recent history, the name Reaper's Reach is the proudest you've had. It's a name you now get back. The pitiful moniker issued by the weak Delaque will not stand. You deserve better."

While plenty of the faces are still suspicious and of the rest, most are impassive, there seems to be fewer people of Delaque stock in the settlement compared to the previous days. Perhaps they took Rambrand's gracious offer to get out of town unmolested and are now someone elses problem. Obviously, they might have been disheartened by the utter failure of their would-be champions and caved because of that. Whatever happened to the Unfolding Shadow is still unknown to Rambrand, though he expects to hear the news in either this settlement or central Rustholm soon enough. Maybe the stinking carcass nailed to one of the abandoned buildings directly outside the settlement, still easily seen by any hivers nearby, dissuaded them. The boy who had tried to ambush Anna while she was alone after Tavin had brought Matt back to Rita's learned the hard way that the sword at her hip is not decorative. The town's apparent elder and his associates had sworn that the kid was a orphan with a history of mental illness, an unlikely claim though by now reinforced by the bald corpse still stuck there. While the boy had spilled his guts, he had only done so in the most literal sense. He had not the time to tell if he had worked together with anyone or had been the one Delaque still brave (and stupid) enough to attack the Tunnel Foxes even after the Unfolding Shadow was thwarted.

Obviously, the Delaques not present might be trying something sneaky or preparing for a real fight, though the increased number of zombie and scavvie sightings in the area suggest this is not a safe time for green teams.

Rambrand also notes the new faces, several of them cleaner than average and often wearing Van Saar bodysuits, if generally worn and simplistic versions thereof. They, at the least, smiled at the mention of the old name the Red Reapers had given this cesspit.

By the time Rambrand as his associates left, the sign had been changed. Instead of painting the old one over, a new piece of mostly straight and sufficiently light rubble had been given the Reaper's Reach name, complete with the drawing of a red skeletal hand left of the name.

---

Two days or so later (telling time in the underhive being a matter of guesswork moreso than anything else), Rambrand and most of his gang were at their main hideout within Rita's. Honore and Liria had just returned from Reaper's Reach, checking up on its security. While still not ready to implicitly trust the acquired settlement to fall in line, the Tunnel Foxes have by now stopped maintaining a constant guard. The only ones with sufficient endurance and focus to keep a reliable watch by themselves for over six hours being Rambrand and Anna, the gang simply could not afford it. Even Honore would lose focus and instead prod any villagers out scavenging for any interesting pieces of ancient machinery after a while.

While the lot could afford only a small bottle of wildsnake between themselves, they did share small amounts to everyone, even the juves.

"Here's to us, ladies and gents!"

"After we broke the Unfolding Shadow again, our little village has accepted our power and authority."

He pauses for effect, the applause started by Honore spreading among the gangers soon enough.

"Matt has recuperated from his injury and is back in true fighting form. It is time to plan our next move. The Holy Flame is currently the strongest force for us to contend with. They have the most manpower and have not stumbled yet. They are also the only gang out here with a probable ally; the second set of caws might join up with them if things get hectic. If they continue unopposed, I need not say they'll own Rustholm and we'll be in the same position the Reapers were fighting the Rats, up against a gang that can shrug off any losses and inflict bad ones on us.

However, talk on the sump lines is they currently enjoy a lot of public support after their clashes with the sump scum. If we do hit them, we might be labelled outlaw and have to contand with Caws and enforcers at the same time. We need a plan to discredit them before we attack."

"If any of you comes up with one, tell me. For the now, we'll build ourselves up. Me and Matt are hitting the firing range again, nice work on that you lot. Honore, you've got Rita's. Put those midhiver skills to good use and make something she'll pay to get."

---

With that, the Mittensees head out, followed by Anna.

A few minutes later, she is addressing Liria. She had been the only one absent from the meeting, having patrolled the ruins and the wide road near Rita's. Anna suspects the girl spent at least some of the time in the range, Liria being probably the most fanatical of the gangers in trying to improve herself further.

"Your first lone proper patrol of the core of our turf. How y' holding up?"

The two women walk alongside one another, checking the rimwards part of the road to see if anything out of the ordinary is beyond the curve of the road.

"I'm just fine. I thought this was your gig though?"

"I'm no machine, I need sleep as much as anybody. If the junior members can do all right by yourselves, everyone's happy. This is what you get for beating Ram yesterday."

"You're saying guard duty is a punishment?"

"And an honour. If we don't think you are up to doing the rounds by yourself, you don't get the job. If some bed-wetting juve ends up as a guard, chances are she'll be dead and the rest of the gang under attack when we're in the middle of lunch or in a ****house."

"Didn't know Lorry wets her bed."

"I didn't mean her specifically, though I wouldn't be surprised. Principle of the thing."

"Well, thanks. I guess I count as an old Reaper?"

Anna replies with a glare, though one which turns into a semi-mocking grin soon enough.

"Sure. You were with us for almost a whole week and achieved ever so much."

"We were fighting every day back then. Still amazed I didn't get hit, all the other new kids were mowed down by the Rats."

Meanwhile, Rambrand is talking to his cousin.

"How are you really?"

"Fine."

"Be honest. Black burns don't just go away in two days."

"Still hurts if I move my arms, but It's a dull pain I can ignore. I can shoot and move if need be, though I'd prefer waiting a bit before getting back to intense fights."

Papa Doc

2012-09-02, 12:32 AM

Corbin looked over the quartet once more. Anything that could sparkle, shine, or make undue noise was taped and smeared with a charcoal paste. "You know the plan. You know the target. You know the numbers will be against you. The Ironmen salute you for your bravery. Lark, you're in charge."

The girl looked quickly at her companions, and her hand floated absently to her most recent wounds. "Courage. We move in half an hour."

Lark disappeared with Karra in her wake, leaving Grimm and The Jester standing in the anteroom awkwardly. Dakar looked at the overgrown tech for a moment. "Sweet dreams princess, the lion comes to the jungle." he said flatly before taking a seat to make shadow puppets with a folded paper lantern.

Grimm found his brother at their shared workbench, elbow deep in a flamer they had found a few weeks back in a scrap heap. "I told you you're never gonna fix that thing. I mean hell, you'd have to buy a new one just to strip the parts to fix that one."

"Nah. I'll fab them myself, if it's the last thing I do. Maybe someday I'll show those Cawdor scum what it means to cleanse by fire." he chuckled heavily. "I hear you're running support on this ambush. You sure you're okay with that? We already got the Enforcers and half the Cawdor zealots down here coming after us. Sometimes I think we're pissing off too many people at once."

Grimm snorted deeply. "We're Orlocks. Men of Iron. We piss off everyone. Besides, brother, Corbin knows what he's doing. With me and my baby up there chuckin' slugs and The Jester coming out of nowhere throwing scattershot, those Van Saar punks won't know what hit them."

"Be careful brother. And just so you know, you look ridiculous with that stuff smeared all over you."

"That's okay brother, You look ridiculous all the time." Grimm rolled his shoulders and popped his knuckles loudly. "I have to go check the weapons one more time. See you in a few hours."

* * *

"Everything checks out, Lark. It's now or never."

The female ganger looked over her assault team one last time. "Remember, as soon as both teams are in position, Grimm fires to start the ambush. If reinforcements show up and it looks back, we bump back. Fire and maneuver. Remember, either we do this by stealth, or we don't do it. For the Ironmen!"

Adlan

2012-09-02, 04:42 AM

Bushwacking
Ironmen vs Tunnel Foxes

The firing range may not seen like the ideal place to organise a hit, but The Von Mittensees were having a bonding time for a change, talking and practicing their accuracy, and their guards Anna and Liria were chatting. The pair patrolled between the perimeters to their look out post, located on the second floor of the middle anticlockwise building, which is used as a guard tower.

Lark's team moved with well rehearsed precision. From Clockwise and Anticlockwise positions, her fellow team members prepared to Act, but their timing was still off by a fraction, Grimm was still running up to the second floor when Karra popped up from behind the rubble with a pistol in each hand. She leveled both weapons, scanning for the best shot. She could see The Jester coming through the remains of the wall, roaring and loosing a load of scattershot. Karra used the distraction to loose a burst from the autopistol, point-shooting with her left hand while aiming a more accurate hammer pair from her laspistol at the easiest target she had, Rambrand's arm holding the meltagun.

She missed the arm completely, her las bolts vanishing from her line of sight. She could feel the lightness of the autopistol, she knew she'd used the whole magazine and she felt defenceless as she began to retreat into better cover.

It was only as she was turning that she caught sight of Rambrand Von Mittensee, falling to his knees. a row of Autoround sized holes running along his chest.

Lark couldn't believe it, and was organising the withdrawl as quickly as possible.

The Von Mittensees couldn't believe it either, with their leader out of action, Quickly his relatives dragged him out of the live of fire, so shocked they could hardly react to get rounds down range at their attackers positions. But then Grimm had set up in his position at last, his Heavy Stubber chattering away.

The Orlocks Victory was sealed with an escape under his covering fire.

thegunslinger

2012-09-02, 06:38 AM

'Knave of Clubs' said Death to Xenos, throwing the cards in the air. No matter how many times he saw this trick, it never failed to impress him. He threw a dozen cards into the air in a wide arc, taking little care how they fell. The swordsman stood and watched the cards as they flew upwards, standing motionless for a moment. Just as Death to Xenos was convinced the cards were going to hit the floor, the crackling blade swung out and pinned a card in the air. The other cards fluttered to the ground. Elizah turned to the other ganger with a small smile, showing him the card at the end of the sword. The Knave of Clubs was pinned through the middle.

'You know that the Games are on, Father?' asked the young ganger, preparing to throw another card, 'Angel of Hearts' he said, throwing another dozen cards.

Elizah concentrated briefly, before swinging the sword in an overhead arc and cutting the card in two. The Angel fell, bisected neatly in two. 'I am aware of this, yes.' Elizah nodded at the young ganger, who threw another half dozen. 'The Lion of Diamonds' said the ganger 'and we were hoping we could go along and watch'.

Elizah made several complicated cuts, the Lion of Diamonds falling to the ground with the corners removed. 'You may go and watch, my sons. In fact, had you not brought it up, I was going to suggest it.'

The juve made a disbelieving noise. 'You'll forgive me father, but we thought we'd have to promise to scourge until the next feast-day before you would agree to that.'

Elizah chuckled. 'The scourging sounds like a good idea to me, but the reason I want you to go is to see that the Emperor's chosen will triumph over the wicked and weak of will. You will all see first hand'.

The juve flicked the remaining cards into the air in surprise. 'You mean...'

Elizah slashed the remaining rectangles of paper out of the air, then holstered his power sword over his back.
'Yes, my son. I will enter these games and bring glory to the Golden Throne in victory'

Vizzi

2012-09-02, 04:09 PM

Further into the dark they moved, their wounds many and their pride no less damaged, but their hate, their deep hate of the Tunnel Foxes burned brighter still than before. He could hear Lex talking to her self a bitter litany of hate, of vengeance towards Rambrand.

"Where he lives, I shall bring death
Where he speaks, I shall sow destruction
Whom he befriends, I shall point heresy
Where there is rage, I shall show its course
My hate shall be as my weapon in the field."

Towards another side he could hear Ronnie and Reggie talking quietly one brother watching carefully for the wounds of the other. Further back Mike stood his single eye peering into the darkness a statue and bulwark against those that would harm his friends. Harry stood in the middle checking and rechecking his Heavy Plasma Gun, with great care for it was his trusted friend.

And me, a wraith in the shadows my mind twisting from cold logic to burning hate, my hand without even taking care would twist towards my knife, and a desire to see my enemies before me and kill them with my bare hands almost overtakes me. Hate for them, blind and insane hate.

In the shadows i am a twisted man, of what i was before. Salvation lies in knowledge. Towards the light, to oblivion or nothing.

Icedaemon

2012-09-03, 02:01 PM

While he briefly lost conciousness from the shock of taking the bulk of a clip into his torso, Rambrand recovers quickly enough to bark an order before his allies have dragged him off the firing range, though they do reach the edges of the buildings.

"Damnit, stop dragging me."

With feeling returning to his body he groans for a bit and, with a slightly quizzical look on his face, takes a few deep breaths. Anna and Liria rush down, but anything they might say is interrupted by Rambrand's statement.

"My lungs are fine. Bullets didn't go deep. Can't feel anything severe."

Letting his cousins pull him up as not to get into a sitting position, that potentially worsening his condition, he limps back to Rita's.

"Those looked like Orlock, from what few glances I had."

"There was only a few of them. I spotted three, there'd have been five at most."

"We were wide open to a damn attack on our own thrice-damned turf."

"I'm so sorry. I was certain I didn't miss anything."

"A small group can always sneak past one patrol. Some splinter of the Rats back together and letting us know first?"

"I don't feel like speculating right now. Get Honore, find out if he's got an idea how to yank these bullets out without spilling all of my blood."

With nothing but a nod, Anna is off.

"Rambrand?"

The champion turns towards his cousin, low on patience but not about to snap just yet.

"I paid attention when that kook hag was patching up Matt. I've read some old books, well I say books, more like..."

"Think you're up to this, kid?"

"Well, I've got to start somewhere, right?"

Rambrand thinks for a moment, then chuckles.

"Sure. Autogun rounds are small rats, sometimes even compared to las-burns. Honore's scrounged up all technical documents he could get his hands on. You'll get the gang of it."

---

Indeed, with the more technical-minded heavy admitting his lacking medical skills, Tavin was the one to pull the bullets out. His stitchwork was crude even putting it mildly, but at least he didn't gag and understood the principle of keeping the wound clean.

Adlan

2012-09-03, 05:50 PM

Monsters in the Dark
Delaque vs a Hideous Monster

The House of Dealque is famous for it's shadowy nature. The further into their territory, the darker it is reputed to get, but nowhere is it as dark as here. It is only thanks to their naturally more sensitive vision that they can perceive anything at all. The touch of the steel mesh floor, the smell of rust from water pipes around them contribute to their picture of their environment

The Light though, that is their goal. They move slowly as the dare and fast as they can. The Light, it looks like a far off hatch way... a tunnel out, or a light on a live cable they could follow back to civilisation.

Until it moves. A bibble of motion in the light... is it rescue? Is it the Tunnel Foxes comming down to finish them off?

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/angler-fish4.jpg

The light reveals it self, not a far off escape but a near by end!

A huge beasts head suspends the light like bait, and on a snake like neck, it extends, illuminating the stained and broken rockcrete side of the wall it is clawing it's way out of. A Giant Lizard, and it's hungry for Delaque.

Nathan calls for everyone to hold their nerve by the simple medium of opening fire, his fire soon joined by the rest of the gang, or at least those of the gang who can stand. Ronnie too, is unloading first one bolt pistol, then another. Then he takes his half concious brothers pistols and continues firing. Mike and Lex's rounds impact on the beasts scales, but nothing seems to slow the beast. Henry's Plasma gun on low power seems to do nothing but draw it's attention.

Drawing it's attention is not a good idea. With a Sudden lunge and movement faster than can be seen, it strikes down, it's reach further than any of the Delaques could imagine. The jaws snap shut and it's a moment before anyone can see what's going on.

Harry doesn't wait to see what's going on. Having taken the moment to set up his heavier version of the weapon that drew the beasts attention, Full Power from a Heavy Plasma Gun does more than draw it's attention. It's neck is burned away past the spine, and it's head begins to flop loose.

Luckily, it had not swallowed Henry, who had rolled aside at the last minute. The light at the end of it's head did not fade with the rest of it's vital signs.

Nathan Cut it off, on the end of it's long fishing rod of flesh.

And with it as a lamp, they eventually found their way out of the darkness and into the habitable zones.

Delaque Win!

Papa Doc

2012-09-04, 01:10 AM

Grimm was still making his way up the half-ruined staircase when he heard the tell-tale sound of gunfire. He redoubled his efforts, earning several bloody gashes in his legs from the scrap metal and rubble. The second he hit the top stair, Grimm kicked a hole in the wall and looked down into the courtyard in time to see Karra still standing, both pistols raised. She was staring in disbelief at the sight in front of her; Grimm followed her eyes to the knot of Van Saar thronged around their fallen leader. It gave him a second of pause to realize that the juve had just taken down a battle-hardened Van Saar. By herself.

Lark moved first. "Grimm, suppress. Dakar, Karra, MOVE!" her voice shocked everyone into action. Lark spun and ran back to help cover the rest of her team, and at the same time Grimm began slamming slugs into the courtyard, forcing the Tunnel Foxes to scatter, dragging their leader away in their confusion.

* * *

"...so friends and Brothers of the House of Iron, raise a glass with me to our newest Ganger, Karra the Headhunter." The entire settlement had come out to hear about the daring raid in which a juve, a young girl had shot up another gang's leader without a scratch. This was just one more notch in the Orlock gang's belt, one more stone on their meteoric rise to power. A young man stepped out of the crowd during one of the lulls. He carried a length of pipe and a bandolier of grenades slung across his chest.

"Corbin Slagburned! Am I a Man of Iron? My blood is as pure Orlock as any man or woman here." He shoved his pipe into a nearby fire and nerved himself up for a few moments. "Am I Orlock enough for the Ironmen?!" he cried in challenge as he drove the metal pipe into the meat of his left shoulder with a deep hiss. "Cawdor's heat is nothing to me!"

The crowd went wild, screaming so loudly at the display of bravado that the very walls of the settlement of Hope pulsed with the noise. Corbin strode out from the throng with a mug of some foul smelling rotgut and held it high. "What's you're name, you little whelp?"

"Piper." Corbin reached out and dumped the mug on the whelp's head, enjoying the wince of pain as the lukewarm liquid hit the raised welt.

"You show up tomorrow with that stick and those 'nades, and we'll see if you're worthy of being a Man of Iron."

* * *

Word of the Orlock gang's arrival had spread quickly, since they brought half of their settlement with them to the party. Before long Brimm and Grimm were eyeballing new weapons and learning tricks from some of the better-traveled armorers. Lark and Karra were causing a stir, though few would come close to the femme fatale after hearing about the couple's most recent exploits. The other gangers and juves spread throughout the crowd.

Then the fighters arrived. Dakar and Corbin walked shoulder to shoulder the cripple and the lunatic, Corbin revving his chainsword and Dakar spinning his newly-bought Power Sword in quick, wide arcs. Someone threw out a handful of gossamer cards and called out one for him to hit among the flock; Dakar swept his blade though the middle of the floating cards and the crackle of energy set them all ablaze at once, a burst of short-lived flames that shimmered around the duo for an instant.

The pair slowed as they approached the center of the circus, and Dakar let out a howl that trailed into a mad cackle. Corbin held his chainsword high over his head, running the blade until it screamed, which drew a slow roar of approval from the carefully-planted Orlocks. The noise spread, slowly, from person to person until Dakar fired a round from his shotgun into the air, silencing everyone at once.

"We've heard about these disciples of House Cawdor, a church so holy that it can't even agree! I heard they were coming to do parlor tricks and a puppet show for the youngun's." A few of the bolder individuals dared to chuckle openly. "We've heard of the Van Saar and their Tunnel Foxes. One of my Juve bitches put a mag from an autopistol in him and walked away without a scratch!" This one had everyone laughing, at least a little. "A little birdie told me that some of those new Delaque gangers got lost and had to fight boogie men in the darkness. I've got three bastard kids what know better than to tell anyone about boogey men. And don't get me started on these Enforcers, telling tales about the living dead. HA! Well I'm here to tell you today, the Men of Iron are not like these other weak, cowering excuses for gangs. Even our women make other gangers cower in fear, and today you'll see as I take all challengers in the bearpit. For your special amusement, up from the deepest slagpits, I've brought The Jester himself to take down the champion."

Dakar too this opportunity to lick the edge of his blade, causing his hair to stand up straight on end and giving him no end of pleasure at the blue sparks jumping from steel-capped tooth to steel-capped-tooth. He whipped the blade around in an arc and whipped it high into the airdropping into a low bow, catching the blade by the hilt as it dropped back toward the earth. He took a single step forward and slid the blade into the scabbard on his back. "Enjoy the show, folks, we'll be here all week."

Icedaemon

2012-09-04, 11:52 AM

This time around, Red meets the Tunnel Foxes entourage along the corewards road, past even the Enforcer precinct. While normally, those supposed protectors of the peace could be expected to protect that area well enough, the crowds moving into Rustholm for the big event are more numerous than Rambrand remembers them being even in his early youth. Obviously, more than one hab-dome is still hidden somewhere. Even with this mass of people, Rambrand and the comrade brought along this time, Liria, managed to pass through unmolested. They did walk through Rustholm itself proudly, Rambrand's bandages unseen by virtue of wearing an undershirt underneath the preforated body suit, daring anyone to comment or hinder them with glances, but after that they took to what parts of the bus route network was still undamaged this far from Rita's. Hiding in the tunnels if anyone tried to ambush them was hardly brave, but two can't take on an entire gang.

The halftrack stops, neither of the men inside looking too surprised.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

"Eager for our deal, are we? Get in."

Nodding, Rambrand and Liria climb into the vehicle. Ushering the woman up, Ram hesitates and addresses the guilder.

"We thought you could use us a little earlier this time around. You know what's about to happen, no doubt?"

The driver shrugs, while Red smiles, rolling his eyes theatrically.

"You need to ask?" "You did not answer my question."

"I could do with a bit more cash before we discuss the medical gear. I've got seventy-five on me, plus a business proposal."

"How utterly facinating. What is it?"

"As you know, the Games are in Rustholm. That's a lot of business available for any guilders currently in town. Also, a lot more drunkards and fools who might try and steal something from you, or worse."

"Enough to overwhelm Morgan but not too much for him and one little ganger?"

"Liria is the best the new generation's got. A crack shot and sharp enough to prove to anyone that Van Saar wits are never dulled by an Underhive education. I would underestimate you if I wasn't sure you spotted and noted her bandolier of grenades."

"You've got yourself a deal. Thirty if everything goes smoothly, fifty if there's trouble she actually takes care of, nada if we get into trouble and she proves useless."

With the vehicle moving into an a tunnel with more rubble and holes in it, the talk stops, Rambrand joining Morgan and Liria upstairs to spot anyone who might try something unwise. While some people are spotted, none of them appear armed and most seem fearful of the halftrack moreso than anything else. The business talk continues soon enough.

"We need supplies first though. New bodysuits for me and Matt, one female variant in small for the newest juve, she can't go around in rags forever."

"You took some shots."

"Don't look like much, those holes. Build character more than anything. You sure you can afford to spend on clothes?"

"We need to look presentable, proper Van Saar. Most of our gang will at least make an appearance. Show some lucky punk won't scare us off, fly our colours. We don't need more ammo right now, everyone's fully stocked. However, food is always mandatory."

"I'm not sure you can afford all that and the medical gear. A good bodysuit will set you back twenty."

"Twenty for three suits sound a fine price.

As he reaches for his purse, Red shakes his head. "For each."

You are joking, I know. They've been fourteen at the worst of times, usually between eight and twelve."

"Inflation."

Rambrand shakes his head at the guilder's grin.

"That's a myth, legend at worst. If I was from some other house, I would think you made the word up. I'm paying you eleven each because I like helping out a friend."

"Sixteen. Me too."

Do we have to do this every time? Look, I'm also buying a chainsword, give me the suits for twelve each. One of them need not be top quality."

"A chainsword? Your Escher woman itching to get back to her roots?"

For me. I'll throw down in the tourney."

Morgan's voice from above pipes in.

Hah! Ram my boy, you better not disparage my legacy.

"This I've got to see. Thirteen is a nice price for your fancy new suits. I'll give you a slightly off one for eleven, for the juve. Giving you a better-than-average chainsword at the plain-junk market price to boot. If you win, you might make enough money to buy the medical gear. If not, you might no longer need it."

Rambrand glares at the big man, then chuckles.

"Everyone should have a friend like you, Red. I'll take only two suits. The shoddy one for Lorraine, best you've got for myself. I'm sure someone can patch up a functional suit for Matt from the remains of his and the one I'm wearing."

Adlan

2012-09-06, 02:40 PM

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/XIIGames2.jpg

The Games occupies an oft used area outside Rustholm's ramshackle walls. The Pit is dug, and if the ash dust isn't sand, it's close enough. Seats climb on quickly made stands to give those willing to pay more a better view. The standing room circles the rest of the pit, and the hawkers, jugglers and caged beasts entertain the crowds. Rat Burgers and unidentified thing on a stick were of course favourites of any fair crowd. The weapon dealers, as well as novelty's and travelling guilders of all kinds were set up in stalls.

Aurelius Scaurus himself announced the games, as the crowd gathered in close in a hurry to get the best view.

"WELCOME TO THE 12 GAMES!" amplified by some priceless archeotech tiepin in his magnificant cravat and robes. "Let the Games Begin!"

The First Round was the local Tournament, and the crowd roared in support of their different favourites, clutching betting slips as the bookmakers continued to call out odds and signal each other in some strange secret code language.

Running Rat vs Pauline Bairbre
Running Rat was a Badskin, an outcast from his tribe, his love of hiver company an affront to the hive spirits. His was the worst fate his tribe could give, ignored by them completely, he made his living guiding underhivers around the treacherous conditions that were his childhood playgrounds. His Tommahawk was as swift as his fleet feet, his maul swung with the same ease he could leap over a swarm of millisaurs. He was rated an outside chance in this match, but no one could estimate if the recent arrival to Rustholm would pull off an upset.

There was an interlude after the first bout and a Beast Tamer making some of the more dangerous fauna of the underhive perform tricks with a whip and bravado. They had previously been displayed in the cages, but ripperjacks look a site more fearsome when they have room to display.

Carys vs ‘Old’ Canton
Once the Backbone of the Watch gang, Old Canton was more famous for his heavy bolter, that had once been the bane of all other gangs in the area. Old, Scarred, one eye covered by a patch and now without the unity of his fellows after the death of his friend and leader, would this Old Rat be able to use his Massive Axe to stake his claim to the shattered remmenants of his old gang? His hair was grey, but he was still brawny as ever.

As Fresh 'sand' was put down, a fire eater entertained the audience. Seemingly immune to the fire, he prayed visibly to the Emperor, a much needed demonstration of piety when one's talent is surviving, or at least seaming to survive flames. His wild hair and masked face made him look almost like one of the Red Redemptionist, save his flames were real, not embroidered on a robe.

Marsham vs Corbin Slagburn
Marsham had joined the Stainless Steel Ratz as a juve, and had worked his way up the ranks of the gang as it grew in status and infamy. From his reputation as a dirty knife fighter, he had become known for his talent with a longer blade. One of the gangs champions, he was part of the leadership split now Felbrig had died under mysterious circumstance. He was veteran, but still young and lean. No one knew how much the house in common affect this fight between house Orlocks old guard and it's up and comers.

The Strongmen put on a demonstration, not as popular in Rustholm as settlements with higher numbers of Goliaths. It was still impressive feats of strength and stamina, but everyone was eager to see the next bout.

Rambrand Von Mittensee vs 'Big' Johan
'Big Johan had arrived just for the games, a vagrant, maybe a Bounty Hunter, no one could tell under his covering dust coat. What made some pick him out as bounty hunter was the Web of Steel he carried over one shoulder, along with a Stun Baton. As he entered the ring, his mesh armour could be seen under his duster. A tricky and experienced opponent by his stance and confidence.

Adlan

2012-09-06, 04:00 PM

Local Tournament

Running Rat

The Pit was surrounded by a fence, that over hung the 10' deep walls. Spikes and Razor wire discouraged escape. Running Rat was lowered in through one of the two gates, his Ratskin cloak giving him an animal look as he moved with startling speed. His Tomahawk held low and his Maul reserved for a second blow. His War paint gave him a fear some aspect.

Old Canton

Wearing the Brown Leather Gillies and dark blue work trousers that were the old Stainless Steel Ratz uniform, his spiky hair held back from his face by a grey bandanna. His thews flexed as he hefted up his Axe, holding it over one shoulder as he trained a single good eye on his young opponent.

Marsham

Actually younger than the new gangs leader, Marsham jumped down unaided, though several of his fellow former Ratz had placed heavy bets on him to win, it was said his sword was recovered from an old STC factory, an original from thousands of years ago, with a monomolecular blade... it was said, others said he was just brutally good. He was stripped to the waist and almost standing like one of the midhive fencers, who practiced more for sport than combat. His few scars belied that impression. You had to be good to live that long in the underhive with so few injuries.

'Big' Johan

He held his web of steel loosely, and waited for his opponent to make the first move, hoping to catch them if they tried to rush him. His stun baton held in his off hand, raised warily in a high guard.

dhenn

2012-09-06, 07:08 PM

Arrival

The first major public appearance a gang makes is always crucial, and this was the biggest event Rustholm had seen since the Purple Cloaks set up shop. Pavlina, and her closest companions, had spent many long nights making preparations.

They entered in a wedge, Pavlina leading the way. All of them were wearing their finest purple, most in their cloaks, the juves with only purple accents and accessories. Weapons were polished, in the best repair as could be managed.

The less attractive gangers, most importantly Carys, whose chemical burns had only just begun to heal, were confined to the inside of the wedge. Appearances could make quite an impact, and if they were known for their looks more than their skills, at least they were known.

Once a decent crowd had gathered around them, Pavlina activated her chainsword with a shout.

Purple Cloaks! Raaaah!

Some time later...

Watching violent combat is a great way to work up an appetite, and the food stalls were doing brisk business. The busiest stand was manned by a massive man, calling out:

"Hot meat here, get yer hot meat!"

"Ooh, can I try a piece of that?" Asked Rava, at the front of the line, pointing at a big, thick skewer of something grey, with red and white flecks.

Perhaps it really was meat, and, if those in line were lucky. Whatever it was, it wasn't grox, that's for sure.

The juve, wearing her tightest top, was peering over the cart, pointing at one of the skewers. A necklace of string and some little bauble tried to draw the butcher's gaze to her neckline.

Neske weaved through the crowd, muttering something about gambling losses, loud enough for those around her to hear every few words.

"...fething bookies, they think...next time..."

Meanwhile, her hand was at the ready beneath her robe. The meatseller's coin box was sitting beside him, completely unattended. She wrapped her other hand around her knife, just in case. If Rava could just keep his attention a second longer...

"Ooh wait, never mind, maybe this one, instead," pointing to a skewer of brownish grey balls coated with a thick green sauce.

Success! The box was safely in the folds of Neske's robe, her mutterings now markedly more upbeat.

Tournament-Pavlina

Readying herself behind the cage, she eyed her opponent. Rabble from the utter fringes of the hive. If her sisters, upwardly mobile and status-obsessed, ever saw him, they'd be likely to faint at the affront. But there was a reason Pavlina was not at a society gala right now. She was made of sterner stuff.

Her cloak had been cast off in favor of a tight bodysuit of purple and black, going all the way up to her chin. A knife was strapped to her thigh. Her long orange hair, which had hung loose when she entered the Games, was now tightly pulled back in a bun, so that it couldn't be grasped.

She pressed the activation rune on her chainsword, the teeth whirring to life. The blade had been made by one of the more reliable Escher manufacturers, a present from her mother before she left for the Underhive. Surely it was more than a match for the crude implements this creature could muster.

Tournament-Carys

Do not itch. Do not itch.

As her cage descended she repeated the mantra. Not too long before she had fell in a chemical pond while fishing out the crystals that formed on its surface. Horrible chemical burns, that even the Doc couldn't fix properly, covered her skin. A big sore on her left cheek wept pus, and broad magenta scars went up her limbs. They itched like a mother.

The Ratz had made life hell for her. Zoticus, who had kept her and most of her gang-sisters for so long, had been under Ratz protection before they collapsed. Knife in her off-hand, she whirled her chain, getting it up too a good speed before the gates opened, letting her anger build.

Papa Doc

2012-09-06, 08:39 PM

Corbin jumped into the arena, his joints creaking a bit as he stood. He snorted deeply and spat a wad of phlegm toward the younger man. "Heard you used to run with the Stainless Steel Rats. You could'a joined up with my Ironmen, kept the presence of House Orlock strong. I tell ya what, you walk away from this fight some pride, and I'll offer you a spot in my gang. Gentlemen's agreement, of a sort. Maybe we'll even teach you the value of a few scars. Whatd'ya say, chum?"

Corbin extended his left hand openly, but kept his right hand a hair's breadth from his sword's hilt.

* * * *

"Gorrammit Lark, put your Juves to task. We we better have people spread throughout this crowd before things kick off. The boss is in the pit, and we're gonna make sure nobody forgets the day Slagburn himself entered the pit!"

Icedaemon

2012-09-08, 08:24 AM

Seven Tunnel Foxes appear suddenly, walking out of two large abandoned buildings just outside the large settlement. Both groups comprise a heavy, a ganger and a juve, though one also features Rambrand himself. One of them is entirely female, consisting of Anna, Allis and Lorraine. The other, entirely male, contains all the men and boys sans Hal, who had been left back at Rita's in case some scavvy or particularly unlawful gang decided to use the event to raid everyone's hideouts. They join up promptly and walk up to the settlement's gate, moving almost in lockstep and in an orderly formation.

The leader is wearing a Van Saar suit which almost looks brand new, yet already has the Tunnel Foxes' simple but stealth-enabling grey-and-brown colours. Matt too has a new suit, or what looks like it. In truth, the sleeves and back of Rambrand's torn suit was added to the front of Matt's old suit's chestplate and leggings. The large and tough leather pads under the armpits and the new boiled leather shoulder pads, far from decorative, actually tie the outfit together in the most literal sense. Honore still consides connecting all the tubing of one to the other an achievement, though he will not boast about it just yet. Even Lorraine is in a bodysuit, one which is a bit bulky and crude, but at the least makes her small figure a slight bit more imposing. Her wild hair gathered into bunches and her features scrubbed, she finally looks like a proper junior retainer of house Van Saar.

Once at the arena, the group splits up. Anna, who left her heavy bolter back at Rita's this time around, mounted on a crude but sturdy and hopefully foolproof tripod on the top floor of the long workshop, takes Rambrand's meltagun from him. The lasgun too had been left back home, with the leader instead carrying a chainsword, plain and unadorned but with no apparent defect and if anything a slight bit lighter than most. Even his photo-visor is not worn, the eyepiece instead handed over to Honore for the time being.

Scheduled to fight in the last match of the preliminary rounds, Rambrand will take the opportunity to see the others fighting styles before entering the ring himself. The Red Reapers did at one point find themselves outlawed and unable to find anyone to sell them ammunition, so the junior members had to forgo non-las-based guns. Having just been given the honour of using the leader's old bolt pistol, Rambrand spent over a month using melee weapons only, but that was several years ago. He had practiced insomuch as he could, fencing with Anna with the chainsword not activated, but still feels a slight bit rusty.

Speaking of the heavy, she promptly goes to the bookies, wagering the agreed-upon five credits on Rambrand and five on Elizah. Meanwhile, Tavin enters the doctors' tent. There were few enough people there, Doc Bones, a couple of his orderlies and apprentices and some woman he did not recognize, though she did apparently command a slight bit of respect from Doc Bones' pupils. Other than the doctors, apparently two of them now, none apparently had even the meagre skill he could muster.

"Tavin von Mittensee. I signed up a couple of days ago."

At first, the entire gang present watches the show, Tavin not needing to do any prep work as the orderlies could at least do that much. The animal trainers skill and courage is apparent. Lorraine in particular gawps, apparently never even heard of such.

"Those are Millisaurs! I didn't know those monsters could be controlled."

"Be quiet, fool girl. You've never seen animal trainers? Don't tell me those Delaques didn't even let entertainers into Reaper's Reach."

"There was a rat trainer, but no one with monsters like these."

---

As the fights continue, the pre-battle shows proving lengthy enough to make some of the Tunnel Foxes just a little bit anxious, Honore walks off when the fire eater started his show. The right equipment and proper technique can protect one from fire, not prayer. As he walks around, he is approached by Lorraine, who tries to be as sweet as possible.

"Can I have ten credits please? I managed to talk with the animal trainers, they're willing to train me if I only had money. I just need ten, I know Rambrand left some money to you."

---

The girl is back before the final match of the first round, having talked the animal training into giving her some tips.

At last, Rambrand enters the ring. He sizes up his opponent. A choice of weapons he is completely unfamiliar with, wonderful. He knows enough to be aware that certain pit fighters swear by nets and is thus careful, though his facial features don't betray as much. Instead, the Van Saar simply smiles. He moves lightly and waves, not just to the audience but also to his opponent.

He calmly activates the chainsword, it being an electric one with a weighty battery in the pommel counterbalancing the blade. When the refree gives the go-ahead, he begins to circle his opponent, the sword readied for an uppercut to try and cleave apart (or at least shove away) the net should it be thrown. His knife, a double-bladed skinny weapon that could almost be called a dagger, is in his off hand.

A few seconds of circling later, or when the enemy appears to grow impatient and come for him, he attempts to feint a dash to the right, hopping back left at the last moment and charging in. Best case scenario, the net was cast at where he would have been had the feint been his actual charge. Worst case, this should at the least be unexpected, though such tactics might not be his strong suit. While still ready to chop up the net until he is upon the bounty hunter, Rambrand will once close concentrate on keeping pressure on his enemy, relying on a constant barrage of swings and opportunistic thrusts to keep the outsider on his back foot and overwhelm whatever defenses the man's armour might provide.

Adlan

2012-09-08, 06:58 PM

Running Rat vs Pauline Bairbre
Using the Chainsword and keeping low, Pauline's attack was countered by a sweep of the Badskins axe and a prancing leap. Not far enough though, and Pauline followed his cloak's tail closely. The crowds roar at the acrobatic display overpowers the noise of the Escher made Chainsaw as it's cycle of thrust drives back the savage looking opponent.

Just as it looked like a one sided match, Running Rat lived up to his name, speeding across the pit, and launching a flying kick at Pauline. A hurried swing blocked it, but a landing became a forwards roll and Running Rat was behind the Escher, his Tomahawk trapping the Chainsword, and his maul raised for a killing blow...

...Pauline's knife was buried into his torso, and with a grimace the Escher brutally wrenched it out through his liver and kidneys.

The First Match goes to Pauline, and seeing the blood on her glistening knife, the applause is more than polite. Bookies start calling out new prices and new bets are placed for her second round, and those who took a flutter are now looking gleefully at the falling odds

Carys vs ‘Old’ Canton
Canton was not a man to frighten easily, and he was not one of those fools who thought every Escher was a beautiful maiden. But he still grimaced a little at the sight of the scars on the woman's arms.

At least it might make the fight easier he thought and was half startled by the shout that issued as the combat was joined. A blow from his axe tangled her chain. but she closed inside his reach. He tried to grapple her, but cuts from her knife drove him back. Abandoning his Axe, he took a few cuts to make another attempt. He had the height and the reach, and his rush met one from the young Escher. He bounced her onto his shoulder and was about the throw her across the pit when the Escher's Knife flashed down. It seems the ladies have a love for their blades as he falls, floored by the dagger in a cluster of old scar tissue.

Marsham vs Corbin Slagburn
'We'll See' Marsham said, as a few of his fellow Ratz cheered him on. He briefly touched the extended hand, and backed off. The bout engaged when Corbin revved up his chainsword. Corbin used his size and strength to drive back the younger fencer, not giving his opponent the chance or room to use his skill.

The stratagey seemed to be working, and as the sword blows were parried again and again, then Corbin thumbed the break on his chainsword, stopping the spinning death and muting the noise. "IRONMEN!" He was answered by a chorus of clanging steel and stomped feet. "IRONMEN!" *CLANG* "IRONMEN" *CLANG* With each shout, the crowd answered him with more force, more unity, until it settled into a cadence of shouts and answering steel. The chorus took a life of its own, and Corbin let it grow into a fever pitch, riding the wave of anticipation untilt he point just before the break. He stepped forward and thrust his sword in front of him, redlining the small motor that ran the blade.
"IRONMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!"

The Parry that followed was an artful move to fast to see. Corbin stoody ready to run Marsham through with his next step, but Marsham's blade was drawing a drop of blood from Corbin's throat.

The Crowd were hushed now, and Corbin again thumbed down the power, and grudgingly watched as the referee awarded the match to Marsham.

Marsham didn't make Corbin use the losers exit, the lift stained with blood, instead treating him like a fellow ganger. "You Buy the Next Round, and we'll talk...." he said as they climbed the lift back to the now cheering crowd. Though opponents of House Orlock were noticeably disappointed not to see more than one drop of blood.

Rambrand Von Mittensee vs 'Big' Johan
'Big' John's net is perfectly mistimed, and it flies right over Rambrands head. Focusing on his Stun Baton the Bounty hunter does his best to fend of the attacks of a man who seems to be getting more confident with every swing. A swing a twirl, and a fancy move from Johan results in his leg encountering Rambrands swing. Then the spray of blood arcs up as the principle of big things falling harder is demonstrated.

Round 2
Carys vs Pauline

Rambrand Von Mittensee vs Marsham

Marsham IC
Now with the united shouts of House Orlock behind him, for the second bout Marsham adopted a pose with both sword and knife raise, ready to close in or keep at arms length, depending on how the Van Saar attacked.

dhenn

2012-09-08, 08:39 PM

Carys and Pavlina

After being lifted out of the pit to the cheers of their fellow gangers, and a sizeable portion of the crowd, neither ganger could truly appreciate the amusement of the fighters that followed.

They had entered the tournament to promote the profile of the gang, but the way they were seeded left them in an uncomfortable position. Undoubtedly some gang organizer had decided they could not both progress to the finale. There was no way, at least that they could tell, to make this battle a good thing for the gang. No sense in injuring the other, but too weak of a show would turn the crowd against them.

While their comrades cheered on the other fights, they lingered back from the edge of the pit, whispering between themselves.

When it was time to be lowered into the pit for their bout, they both handed their main weapons to the juves assisting them, and drew their knives, the blood of the previous foes still unwashed.

After Onora cut a few strategic gashes in Pavlina's bodyglove, turning nicks from the fight into exposed skin for the audience, they entered the cages and descended, the slightest nod between them escaped the gaze of almost all the audience.

Icedaemon

2012-09-09, 07:16 AM

The moment he successfully ducked under the net, Rambrand was sure of his victory. The stun baton might have been a fancy bit of gear, but it lacked the versatility of any form of sword and simply came off as only a minor threat, especially as Johan seemed to have his hands full just blocking Rambrand's swings.

When punishing a desperate kick turned out as a killing blow, Rambrand bows slighty to the refree and walks out, calmly taking in the cheers of his supporters. When Rambrand has ventured through the winner's gate, Honore stops cheering (though the rest continue) and walks up to one of the assistant refrees, talking in his quiet monotone voice.

"Johann was an unknown fighter without any allies to take his gear. We saw no rules regarding loot in the material provided. Do we get right of salvage?"

Meanwhile, Rambrand prepares himself for the fight with Marsham. He did have some idea of this opponent's skills and abilities beforehand, having met and fought this foe in their prior battles. However, facing him in a melee would be a new experience. He had seen the skillful parries which nullified Corbins attacks, noting with satisfaction that despite the constant boasting of the new Orlock gang, their leader lacks any particular edge himself. That aside, Rambrand too lacks an idea on how to counter a parry, though he might have some notions on how to circumvent such tactics. The defeat of Old Canton, Morgan's one-time rival (though the cyborg veteran obviously denied that the Ratz' heavies were anywhere near his equal even back then), at the hands of not a renowned warrior but a relatively green unknown showed how far the former Watch Gang had fallen without Felbrig.

He watches the Escher fight with little interest, building up and discarding various plans, in the end leaving any elaborate schemes aside. Marsham's finesse might not be something he can counter with wits, but he could try his hand at overwhelming it.

Red and his crew too have joined the crowd, the guilder somehow obtaining good seats, even for Liria, despite skipping the preliminary round. The guilder must have had a good use indeed for the woman. For Rambrand, there shall be no folly permitted on the sand tonight.

Papa Doc

2012-09-09, 05:07 PM

Corbin sheathed his chainsword and offered a hand to Marsham. "I'm man enough to admit when I'm beaten. I'd recognize that technique anywhere though, "Felbrig's Folly" some of the Rats used to call it." Corbin handed him a small slip of paper. "Come by the Ironmen turf later. Any friend of the Rats is a friend of the Ironmen. Drinks are on me, and we can talk about the Old Days."

Corbin turned back and hopped out of the pit with some help from Brimm and Grimm. "Lark, Skrugg, I want everyone queued up and ready when Dakar fights the Champion. He's been practicing with that Power Sword ever since he bought it, and I'll be damned if I know what he'll do with it if we don't show up.

Adlan

2012-09-10, 10:55 AM

Cary's vs Pavlina

With both knives drawn, the crowd were mixed in dissapointment at not seeing the cat fight some bookies had already been running bets on, and excitement that this would be a bout with at least a chance of bloodshed and death.

Cary's put up a good defence, but fighting with knives was almost an art to some in House Escher, and Pavlina displayed some of that skill with flair , her knife blurring in flashy parries and ripostes that were crowd pleasing, but all aimed at limbs and none risking puncturing a fellow purple cloak.

Not want to lose the support of the crowd, the Leader used her strength and size, tripped the young juve, careful even to avoid her scars, and grabbed her before she spilled into the dust, an arm lock around her neck and her knife threateningly but harmlessly raised next to one ear. A quick and flashy end to the bout that saw the Leader make it through to the final.

Rambrand Von Mittensee vs Marsham
Rambrand walks into the arena slowly, activating his chainsword in almost a lazy manner, though doing so as early as possible. He smiles broadly.

Marsham enters from the other side, again shirtless, and looking loose and ready.

"Can't even afford a shirt, Marcy?" Rambrand Taunts

Not waiting for a reply, he charges in with as much speed as he can muster, planning on simply overwhelming the foe with a flurry of wild swings before Marsham composes himself. Old Morgan and the rest of what few melee fighters the Red Reapers had among themselves were mostly highly technical. Hopefully, that's what Marsham expects from Rambrand as well. Both sword and dagger are in use for the fight and his attacks varied, not caring all that much if he inflicts slight flesh wounds or grievous injuries as long as he can layer a lot of pain onto Marsham. He fully intends to cut his old foe into ribbons before the refree calls it.

But Marsham counters, using his footwork this time, the tactics he should have used against Corbin. He dances around the pit, scoring touches and scoring marks into Rambrands new suit, but before he could press the attack, he had to dance away.

Eventually Rambrands fury began to toll, but the lights began to flicker, and as he finally began to dominate the fight, the time was called, up hive the factories were starting, and eventually the power demands would dim the under hive and the pit fight had to finish.

3 Guilders, in arcane robes and sitting in special seats began to consult as the Referee ended the bout unfinished, with only a few cuts between the fighters, the whole crowed was in hushed anticipation.

The rules and scoring was a complex and little understood business, only that it was judged on style, control, damage, and aggression. And then the shout went up!

Marsham Victor on Points!.

A loud protest went up from one unlucky bookie who had given extravagant odds for a victory by points, and more from those who had backed the House of Van Saar.

The Final
Pavlina vs Marsham

House Orlock and House Escher have a long history of alliances. The Orlocks practice of political marriages often giving women powerful status, and the fact that many gangs and clans were headed by a woman, meant that Orlock males got a little more respect that those of other houses.

A little more.

Marsham IC
Marsham had been a Juve when the Shrieking Violets had been a powerhouse in the area. And he knew not to under estimate the warrior woman.

Climbing out of the pit after his victory on points, he was surrounded by Orlocks of his Old gang, and the new power that had renamed the biggest concentration of their house 'Hope Settlement'. He had to prepare himself for another round against a chainsword. Despite facing the ceremite busting teeth of them for two rounds, his blade was still unmarred. Maybe the legends were true, or maybe it was another testament to his skill.

thegunslinger

2012-09-10, 01:45 PM

House Cawdor walked towards the fighting pits in a large group, Elizah and the muscular heavies at the front, the gangers and juves flanking him. Raising his hand in benediction, Elizah pauses to put a handful of imperials in the begging bowl of an old beggar. 'Throne watch over you, grandmother,' prayed Elizah 'may He make your days easy and nights free from trouble.'

The gesture was noticed by the surrounding crowd. Several cheered the flame coloured gangers, giving thanks for the liberation of the hamlet of Redemption from the neurone-zombies. A particularly scabby habber tried to touch Elizah'd cloak, to be battered away by his body guards. Several other juves trotted behind, some in conversation with the other younger members of the gang, visibly impressed by the almost new chainswords at their sides.

'Mark this well, my children. The Emperor's faithful have come to demonstrate their prowess. Woe be to the heretic who defies us!'

Adlan

2012-09-10, 02:30 PM

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Challenge the Champion

Bout 1
The Flickering light of the under hive are off set by the bright steady contrast of the spotlights fired up to illuminate the pit. These are the bouts most likely to result in bloodshed. There's no quarter given by the Pit slave. And none from the champion. He is a Chrono-Gladiator. His Heart explodes after 30 days, a certain death that will risk taking out anyone next to him with shrapnel. The only way for him to reset his fatal countdown is in the pit. The murderous rage and adrenaline that combat produces triggers his reset. He must fight to live, and is a crowd favourite. His Entire left arm is bionic, as well as his spine and other reinforcements to let him wield his mighty weapons.

Lowered into the Pit in a Cage, the roar from the crowd drowns out his own as he thunders free, ready to Kill for another stretch of existence.

Papa Doc

2012-09-10, 09:38 PM

The Ironmen sat in one of the smaller circus tents, a sort of makeshift red room for the arena fights. There were two empty but still-warm pallets where Running Rat and Big John lay before expiring from their battle wounds, and a third where Old Canton sat nursing his still-healing wounds. Corbin and Old Canton exchanged nods of mutual respect, both trying to shut out the cloying stench of disinfectants and used bandages. Dakar sat with Grimm tweaking the emitter on his power sword.

"You've just got to tune these things right. I mean sure, you can just use the factory settings, or tweak to the military standard settings, but you really don't get the cleanest cuts and best battery life unless you tune it to the wielder." Grimm prattled on for a good ten minutes about welds, solders, specific gravity, resistances, and about eighteen other things before Dakar suddenly stopped him and began reassembling the weapon with the determined speed of a skilled armorer. "Ya see that? He learned that just watching me do it once."

Dakar stood up, giving the blade an experimental twirl before delivering a fencer's salute to Corbin. He straightened up just as a roar came up from the arena. "Time to slay the giant, the great spider of Khalamanthe. Woe to those who walk before him in the shadow of his web. Take courage and heed my words, children dear because when steel and fire meet, the world trembles before them." Dakar strode purposefully out of the tent to face the champion.

Hovath spoke first. "He's a hell of a scrapper, boss, but I'll be knackered if I ever understand half of what he's saying." Skrugg reached halfway to the Hive capitol and brought down a skull-rattling slap across the back of Hovath's head, sending the juve tumbling and returning the silence that so often accompanied Dakar's departure.

* * * *

Dakar leapt into the brightly illuminated pit, greeted by a mix of cheers from the Orlock faithful and booing from the fans of the Champion. Dakar replied by drawing his blade and licking the fuller, sending a visible current through his teeth and making his hair stand on end. He cut a few turn, whipping the blade about wildly, then with a bit more finesse as his skin warmed the joints of his armor. The champion joined him in the pit, and Dakar was forced to step back to look up into the fighter's eyes.

"And thus spake he, upon entering the den of the beast, 'Lo but I meet thou today in single combat. Only one of us may leave here the victor, but I bid you take care that your life may be spared when I stand champion over you, lest I remove your head with my electric butterknife!"

A jeer came from the crowd behind him "That one's not right in his head! Hardly fair putting a nutter against the champion!"

Dakar wheeled around and licked the blade again, sending blue arcs from his tongue to his cropped hair again. "The lightning tickles my brain." He turned back to the giant in the arena before him. "Shall we dance the salsa of mortality?"

Adlan

2012-09-11, 10:00 AM

Championship
Bout 1
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The Champion had a puzzled look on his face as he tried to determine what, if any of Dakar's words fitted into his rather limited comprehension.

"Ya Gonna Die Crazy!" seemed a fitting riposte, as he felt the life giving wonderful sensation of a kill about to descend. With a Roar the champion launched himself at the smaller figure, who dodged the surprisingly fast blow of the Powerclaw and Chainsword bionic that replaced the Champions right arm.

Each impact from the bionic arm fell like a hammer blow, most of them missing, though 'the Jesters' Carapace armour dissipated the glancing blows that did land enough to keep him from being battered to pieces. His time in the Ironmen's training pit had paid off, he had learned to time his movements to maximize the armor's potential, drop the left shoulder back to let a blow glance off and swing the sword with the right, use his momentum against him.

Each blow came in harder, faster, both men having discarded simple exhibition for the thrill of mortal combat. There was no doubt in the eyes of the onlooking Ironmen, the two fighters were trying to kill each other, and only a yield or a judge's decision would stop them. Even then, it might take a flash bomb thrown into the arena to ensure both fighters came out alive. Dakar saw an opening and pressed his attack, aiming the energy-coated blade for the joint where bionic met organic.

The Blade began to cut into the wires and, and hydraulic fluid spurted free. But Dakar's attention was misplaced. The Champion began to laugh, despite the damage to his Bionic Limb, as he took his opening, and his good left hook punched Dakar square in the back of his head. Still laughing, the champion grabbed Dakar with his half functioning power claw, and spun like a child. Dakar was launched into the wall of the pit with a sickening thud, and the Crowd Roared with approval.

dhenn

2012-09-12, 12:09 AM

Pavlina IC

On her third descent into the pit, her once pristine bodysuit now torn and dirty.

Still, she thought, the crowd would be baying for blood. The indecision of the previous round would have them antsy. All told, though, this tournament couldn't have gone better. The newcomer up against one of the most prominent remaining members of the old guard would be a compelling story, especially when none of the other upstarts made it that far.

She was a little nervous, he had bested the last two, despite their chainswords. The fact that they were on points and technicalities offered some promise. Go for the neck. It should be a good show...

PURPLE CLOAKS!

Adlan

2012-09-12, 10:59 AM

The Local Tournament Final!

Marsham and Pavlina were the finalists, the fresh 'sand' barely soaking up the blood from the previous bouts, and the crowds bloodlust nearing it's peak.

But having beaten off two opponents with chainswords, Marsham was tiring. Pavlina, having had less on a contest in the second round was fresher, stronger and she quickly demonstrated that fact. Her chainsword flicked out, and Marsham's parry had non of the fluidity of the earlier bouts.

Pavlina's blows rained down, striking from above to smash through Marsham's defence, and driving them back.

Marsham made a counter, using his knife in his off hand, he tried to bind the chainsword away and come in close. But Pavlina was having none of this, and spun backwards. Her chainsword now free, it followed her circle, and the blood flew from Marsham's grasp. Then she struck down again, smashing her chainsword into Marsham's face. The blood spatter went high as he was knocked back, dead or unconscious, beaten by the warrior woman.

The Crowd went wild with such an exciting final. It looks like purple might become a few peoples lucky colours. Pavlina is victorious!

Adlan

2012-09-14, 07:29 AM

Challenge The Champion!
Bout 2
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There had been a brief interlude, but the champion returned, his body hidden in the cage. One of the referee's his black and white clothing and slave collar indicative of his status, pulled away the tarpaulin, and revealed the Champion, a new arm grafted on, rather than repair the one damaged in the first bout. His bellows were gutteral, wordless cries of a man who was fighting for his life.

Eliza jumped down from the stands deftly, landing on the warm ash floor of the arena. He raised his arms to the crowd, saluting them with his crackling power sword. He turned and made the sign of the aquila, noticing with pleasure that many others in the crowd did so as well in response. Kneeling, Eliza offered a prayer, loudly proclaming that the 'Emperor blesses those who seek his benediction!' As he pushed himself.ipod off the ground, he made sure to keep a pinch of ash on his off hand, held beneath his dagger. Because, thought Elizah, the Emperor also helps those who help themselves.

Adopting a wide stance, the Cawdor held his powersword in a low guard, ready and waiting for the Champion.

With no words still, the mid of bionics and man charged towards the Holy man, his power claw snapping shut as he smashed it down. Eliza dodged, and ducked behind the slower champion. They seperated, and Eliza made an attack.
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With a lazy swing the champion knocked back Eliza forcing his to a kneel. The crowd roared, some in celebration, clutching their betting slips. Others, most notably some solumn, plain robed individuals just recognisable as Zippo and his Penitant Brotherhood began a chant in the Emperors name.

Recovering from his knees, Elizah feinted to the right with his step, drawing the behemoth the same way. Seeing his chance, Elizah slashed at the gladiator, taking care to make sure his fistfull of fine ash was thrown into the pit slave's face.

Slashing at the juggernaut's legs, Elizah cut the tendons and cables that ran through there, making the slave roar in p ain as heslumped forward. Kicking the slave over, Elizah ran the sword through the prone fighter, spraying fountains of blood and oil into the air and over the crowd. Covered in it, Elizah chopped his blade into the neck of the dying Chrono Gladiator, ignoring the rattling sound coming from its head and mouth.

Pulling the head free, Elizah allowed the blood and fluids to run down his arm and face and bellowed 'For The Emperor! Faith is stronger than Iron!' Before throwing the head into the crowd and stalking off, sword raised to salute the crowd.

thegunslinger

2012-09-14, 02:09 PM

Doc Bones tightened the final screws on the claw, then nodded at Obidiah. Pulling the large lever, electricity flowed into the newly severed weapon. The energy field around the claws flared into life. After a few false starts, the claw opened and closed smoothly.

'Well boys, I think we've got her going' said Doc. 'at least, well enough that it won't fry His lordship when he uses this to punish the next lot of heretics.'

Obidiah nodded. 'Aye, good job Doc. We'll leave the rest of the arm here, no doubt someone will need it at some stage. Now the million credit question. Who gets to use the shiny sword now that this is going to be bolted on instead?'

Churny and Helebore climbed closer to the shrine. There was always cash hidden in there after each service. Rumour had it that Elizah charged his sword there as well, when he wasn't carving up the enemies of the gang. Or gutting chrono gladiators.

Pinching closer, the two juve made sure that no one was looking. The only person about was the fat juve, whose poorly fitting mask didn't cover his large jowls. The juve was asleep, a hunk of swamp rat in his chubby paw. Sneaking past him, the two crept into the nave, splitting up to search the area. Helebore saw the gleam of the sword in the distance, but went right past it, concentrating on the small bowl to the other side. Opening it, he cursed under his breath. Empty.

He watched as Churny saw the sword - finally - and grasped it. Smiling over at his partner in crime, he lifted it from it's charging cradle and waved it over his head with a small giggle. Helebore grinned back at him.

Making sure Churny was ahead of him, the two crept out of the chapel. As they were just passing the sleeping juve, who was still snorting and snoring, Helebore stepped on the back of Churny's sandal and gave him a small shove. The unfortunate thief tumbled head long down the stairs, clattering noisily as he did so.

Wasting no time, Helebore started bellowing 'Alarm! Alarm! Someone's in the chapel!' Churny looked up at his companion in abject surprise. Reaching for the fallen sword, he tried to get to his feet, when a fat and heavy hand grabbed his scalp. The fat juve picked up the sword and put it through his sash and rumbled 'You're nicked, chum'.

Flexing the newly affixed claw, Elizah gestured to the gibbets next to him. 'Measure him up for them. Then hang him over the square.'

Turning to Helebore, he tilted his head. 'I'll ignore both the question of how the pair of you ended up on the stairs of my chapel at lowpower. Or how you got past my no doubt alert guard. However it happened, you deserve a reward for your action and, I suspect, for a plan well executed. We are in need of young blood. You are now the newest member of the Holy Flame. Rejoice.'

There were many reasons for joining a gang. Brotherhood. Being able to rely on someone in a pinch. Respect. And a leader who was able to rip the head off a chrono gladiator also helped. Couple that with a gnawing hunger and it was easy enough to see why a street urchin would betray someone to the Holy Flame for a place with them.

Icedaemon

2012-09-15, 02:57 PM

Rambrand had swung away almost like a madman, trying to find any openings in Marsham's defense. More than once, the swords clashed and his dagger darted out, but the wound inflicted was never more than a graze. When the fight finally was called to an end, both he and his foe were panting and sweating, apparently evenly matched. He would gladly have continued, but even with the victory annoyingly enough awarded to the former Stainless Steel Rat, the Van Saar could feel a tinge of pride. He was never much into melee combat like some and while he did intend to go for a victory, lacking a sufficiently fearsome foe to bet on winning in his stead, he did not expect it to be handed to him easily. Showing that he was at the least a strong contender was enough. Showing that the Orlock hit on him last week had not affected him in any meaningful manner had been the minimum goal he had set out for himself. His new suit, while now ripped and cut in some places by Marsham's counterattacks, had suffered no damage to its more delicate systems. Obviously, the Tunnel foxed did boo the refree and the judge's calls, but nothing too rowdy happened.

The gang had for the most part staid around the arena, though Lorraine left for the animal trainers once Rambrand rejoined them. Tavin, free of fretting for his cousin, was still missing, now taking every opportunity to learn from the two doctors present. They argued on more than one occasion, but even seeing where they disagreed was educational.

Now forty credits down altogether, any chances of getting the medical gear Red was holding onto rested on Elizah winning and a great many people betting on the champion or the Orlock supposed idiot savant.

Seeing the chrono-gladiator enter, the Tunnel Foxes hope dwindled even more. Elizah might be a famed warrior after his brazen assaults against a horde of plague zombies, but his chances against this monster seemed slim. The match versus Dakar only proved the threat this cyborg giant posed, though the ironman had more of a chance than the Van Saar had believed.

The match between Marsham and Pavlina was one where the Tunnel Foxes disagreed with one another. Anna, still possessing plenty of Escher pride despite her ideological disagreement with the mainstream ideals of her house, was cheering for the newcomers almost from the get-go, with Allis soon joining her. Rambrand was not derisive, but rather apprehensive, regarding Marsham's obviously slower reactions and moves as the youthful veteran simply being worn down from their lengthy and frantic match. He would have preferred the same result, or perhaps Pavlina winning by points much as Marsham had done. At the least, the Orlock's skull was nearly split. Even if he survived, he would probably be less of a threat if they ever meet him again. They all cheered the Escher leader, but at least for Rambrand and Matt, the cheer was a slight bit half-hearted still.

When Elizah was to enter the ring, the Van Saar became Cawdor supporters quickly enough. With their last chance to profit and unwillingness to chance making the most prominent gang in the area someone they might not get along with after ending up with a foe on either side on their territory, the Tunnel Foxes cheer for Elizah a fair bit, especially when the masked fighter actually slays the menacing mechanical giant. Only Honore is a slight bit pensive, less than happy to see good cybernetics laid low by a mere unaugmented man.

Adlan

2012-09-17, 06:10 PM

End of Round 3
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Adlan

2012-09-23, 10:00 AM

Round 4
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With the Tournament success firmly placing the two lead gangs as Cawdor and the new presence of Escher in the settlement, the fall of House Orlock can only be checked by the Brotherhood of Iron. With the forces of both Van Saar and Delaque also struggling, and still no watch gang or action by the guilders the top of the heap is still open.

'Purge the Unclean'
Members of the Holy Flame

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Riding high on the aftermath of their victory, the Forces of Redemption have swept through the settlement with their followers and most pious flock members. They have swept up the detritus of the settlement, have finally turned and driven them to the Anticlockwise edge, towards the Sump. At the edge of their settlement, they must seperate the wheat from the chaff... and dispose of them the same way they dispose of chaff on a primitive agriworld.

Ironmen vs Tunnel Foxes
Gang Fight
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Following a confrontation outside the Pit, the two gangs have drawn up the battle lines across the oft disputed slag territory. Controlling all the Slag would give either of them the monopoly on an essential resource for the settlement.

Unfolding Shadow vs Purple Cloaks
Scavangers
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Exploring the wastes far Rimwards of the settlement, in a mostly intact, but misused and abandoned area, the two gangs encounter each over in an area not yet picked clean by scavengers. In between them stands, lit by some mischance of the roof dome, a pile of electronics and gubbinz.

Icedaemon

2012-09-30, 09:09 AM

Following the tournament, the Tunnel Foxes had regrouped by the healers' tent, Tavin joining his cousins with a satisfied look on his face. He's learned enough, it seems. As they prepare to leave though, Rambrand turns towards the ironmen, grinning.

"Let's see how you fare in a fair fight. Five days from now, on the Rimwards edge of the Slag heap. We'll see if you deserve the slag in the first place."

Not waiting to hear for the empty boasts which doubtlessly follow, the Van Saar gang leaves. The house of iron has after all been proud in Rustholm for a long time. To lose face and risk losing access to the slag heaps their entire pitiful culture is based on due to not appearing is not something they can afford. The enemy gang backing down is almost a non-issue.

Leaving, the Tunnel Foxes join up with their guilder ally. The entire gang again together, the old merchant smiles and pats Rambrand on the shoulder.

"The lass did good. Spotted and took down a thief nicely. Morgan says she shoots like a true Van Saar should. Fifty creds is yours for services rendered."

"Around this time, you tend to head to the settlements by the rim. Bump it up to sixty for my entire group accompanying you along the rimwards road?"

"You want me to pay for the privilege of giving you a free luxury trip to Rita's? Since when do I run a charity?"

"It was worth asking. Still, the new Escher gang is an unknown quality and probably excitable after their victory here..."

"You get your ride, I get the extra guns on my rig. A fair trade if I ever heard of one."

Agreeing, if not with bountiful amounts of joy, the Tunnel Foxes begin to climb aboard. Lorraine, however, addresses Rambrand.

"Sir, I asked for a c-chance to learn from the monster tamers. Can I please go?"

Rambrand turns towards the woman, thinking of a rebuke, when Honore interjects.

"Already let her pay for it. Would be a waste if she didn't go."

The leader sighs. On the one hand, they most certainly do need the money, but he does see that such skills could yet come in handy.

"Fine. You go and do what you intend. If you get captured, that's your own fault and something you'll have to fix yourself. I suggest you come back via the tunnels, the same way we got here. If you get lost in there, that's also your problem. Understand?"

All in agreement, the juve parts ways with the rest of the gang. She might be new to this settlement, but keeping out of the way is what she's done all her life.

---

On the trip back, Red brings up the subject of the tournament.

"You didn't exactly win. I take it you can't pay for the medi-kit?"

"You'd be right. Can you hold onto it for just a while longer? I can buy that next time you come back."

"I won't be back along this way for a week, maybe more. It's good gear. The price will go up, I'll find demand without looking, I assure you."

"That one's my problem. I showed everyone what I could do with weapons I am not comfortable with. That's worth the funds lost."

---

The time leading up to the appointed time was mostly spent making preparations. The gangers hit the firing range as Rambrand made and discarded plans. The enemy is numerous, with many of their assets are still unknown. In the end, something simple would be called for.

thegunslinger

2012-10-01, 02:46 AM

The citizens of Redemption were making their way back to their habs, many nursing severe hangovers or coming down off their drug of choice. The celebration of the games and the Holy Flame's triumph over the Chrono Gladiator had left the hamlet in a buoyant mood, cementing the gang's reputation as fearsome hand to hand combatants.

Power claw clanging open and shut, Elizah walked at the head of his gang. Nodding at the shot-gun armed gangers, he nodded with approval as they fanned out, closing off the exits from the make-shift marketplace that contained most of the population. Several other gangers stood to the rear of the firing line, with one of the fearsome heavies holding a small chest that he placed on top of a rickety table.

'Citzens of Redemption!' bellowed Elizah, earning him several shocked looks and the occasional scowl from some still recovering underhivers, 'the Emperor looks on us with favour! His flame burns ever bright and we are grateful to stand in his presence!' The surrounding villagers stopped to stare at the oratory of the gang leader. Others stopped at the site of the plasma field energizing around the claw, plasma crackling and swirling around the vicious tines of the weapon.

'We succeed through our endeavours only with the blessing of the Master of Mankind. We owe our souls and lives to Him on Earth, and it is only by submitting to His will that we will prevail against the mutant, the heretic and the witch!'

Several of the older hands in the market place looked at each other warily. They'd seen this sort of thing before. It was this sort of speech that generally ended up with someone on a pyre. Or swinging from a gibbet, like that poor bastard the other day.

'All those who willingly submit to the Emperor's judgement will find themselves earthly rewarded! Move to my right hand, show that you are of pure human genetic stock and receive our bounty. Those who are not blessed in His site, move to my left and receive a quick end. Any resistance will be met with unrelenting fury.'

With that, Elizah stepped back behind the firing line of gangers. Their shot guns up and ready, scanning the crowd, the Holy Flame wait to see the reaction of the crowd.

Papa Doc

2012-10-01, 05:31 PM

"Oy. I *said* OY, gather round!" The Ironmen stirred and gathered around the worn table with the roughly scribbled map of the bowels of Rustholm. "New plan. We're going back after the Tunnel Rats. I want those Van Saar reeling. New teams. Each grenadier goes with a heavy, everyone else pairs up. On my signal, unleash hell. Questions? Good. Shut up and suit up."

The familiar flurry of weapons and maintenance filled the hive that the center of Hope had become. The streets outside emptied as the gangers locked up and moved down the streets toward the slag pits armed to the teeth. The stench of hot sulfur and burning metal filled the air as they approached the junction of Van Saar and Ironmen turf. In the distance, Lark could see shadows moving on the other side of the track. She stole a look at Karra before signalling the rest of the gang.

Corbin saw the signal and smiled as best he could, though the effort of the grimace pained his scarred face. He set his lasgun into a divot in the stonework and waited for a second signal from Lark...

Adlan

2012-10-02, 03:28 PM

Round 4
'Purge the Unclean'
Members of the Holy Flame

Hemmed in at the walls of Redemption, those unlucky enough to be facing the fury of the now one and only Cawdor Gang in Rustholm had no choice. The Locals quickly fell in line, moving towards the Right in a Hurry, it was those unfortunate enough to be too drunk or hungover to respond that maintained their position.

Even they began to stumble across the now empty gap between the que as Obidiah, Methuselah, Praise-Be-His-Name, Throne's Servant and the new juve, Helebore began to go among the people, searching them out for hidden mutations, and ordering them to report their sin of drunkness or gambling at their next meeting in chapel.

Elizah nodded when the first one, a local who had done nothing at the games but enthusiastically cheer was allowed to redress. Of course, at no point during these checks, did their face's become uncovered, they were Cawdors afterall, not savages. A single coin was dispensed.

This continued, and it looked like the Emperor was in a generous and merciful mood with his funds and citizens...

...Until one, infront of the leader himself, suddenly shot off. Running out of the line, he was trying to run for the wall, only for a single shotgun to go off, and the man to fall writing to the floor, his shoulder torn open. Puritanius reloaded, and a strange silence fell down upon the crowd and gang alike disturbed only by that noise.

With one arm hanging limp, the fallen figure pushed himself up off the floor, and turned. One arm hung limp, cradled in the other arm, a final stubby, atropheied but definite arm held an autopistol aimed, not at the crowd, but at the man's own throat.

As the shot rang out and the body crumpled to the floor, 3 more miscreants tried to use the distraction as cover for their escape. Praise-Be-His-Name and Throne's Servant blocked their path, but were surprised, one individual, not showing any signs of mutation drew a pair of daggers and was successfully using them to divert the blows of Throne's Servant's power sword. Praise-Be-His-Name fought the other two, but was quickly over whelmed.

But as the two fled over the fallen juve, they were showered with shots from the gun line, Deacon punching a slug through one's face, spraying brain matter across the floor and revealing eyestalks hidden under his hood and hair.

The other was quickly caught by the long strides of Elizah. The Power Claw clamped down on his shoulders as Obediah and Methusulah helped bring down the other remaining resister.

Shouts went up from the crowd, rope was quickly produced, and a festival atmosphere quickly ensued again. A witch, heretic or mutant burning always did bring people together.

Vizzi

2012-10-10, 02:56 AM

"So... What did you think of the tournament Lex?" Jack asks as he leans slightly back, his head throbbing with slight pain. "Eheh, i loved it, lots of blood and mayhem. Its a pity that Von Twit did not die." he voice turns cold and angry at the end of the sentence, as it always does when speaking of whom she considers her great enemy.

"What about you Henry?" he says as his head turns slightly to look upon his small workshop as he once again checks his massive Heavy Plasma Gun, his fond companion that if Lex was not in error he once heard Henry call Betty. "Could have been better. A fireworks display would have gone well." Henry says as he pats 'Betty'.

With a nimble twist and fast movements Jack heads out towards the settlement. His mind working even while its Injury made him prone to acting erratically. As he walked the outskirts of the settlement he saw a mutant beating another even uglier mutant with a stick, and with whimsical decision he grabbed that stick and named it 'The Ugly Stick', as he joined in in beating both of them with it. That done he moved further inside the settlement, watching and smelling the market with its variety of goods. Moving across a group of 'free' woman peddling their particularly rancid 'goods'. Watching one of the many 'Missionaries' administering their own corrupt laws, that frequently changed as money flowed. Its a good life, he thought as he smiled. Could be better or i could be dead.

As he returned to his gang's home he decided that soon they needed to find some items to sell. After all this sweet piece of armour did not buy itself, and with that he punched someone.

Adlan

2012-10-12, 12:52 PM

Scrap for the Slag!
Ironmen vs Tunnel Foxes
The Slag dust gave the air the taste of blood, which no doubt would be shed soon over the rich Iron Ore. Two groups advanced to claim ownership. The House of Iron, Orlocks were represented by the Ironmen, advancing from the core, their controlled edge. The Ironmens Clockwise flank encountered no opposition and quickly advanced to the line of barbed wire. The Tunnel Foxes, House Van Saar's claimants to the rich pickings, make their way from the Rimwards side of the Slag, but their number looked short, a few members missing.

It was only as the Ironmen's Anticlockwise flank advanced that this shortfall was made up, Skrugg saw, as he covered Grim and Piper's advance Honore and Liria open up from the rooves of the central pair of buildings. Honore's round spat perfectly into the young juve, putting him out of action, While Lira's was equally well aimed, the blast that should have followed was missing, though what chance meant the experienced heavy lived while the young juve ate the heart of a sun was a cruel one.

Anna was busy setting up her heavy bolter in a commanding position, ready to finish off the exposed Orlock.

As Rambrand and the rest of the Tunnel Foxes hurried to take up good firing positions, moving into cover along the line of barbed wire, Matt* Taking up the best position in the small tower that supported the walkway over the rails. It was only there for long defunct machinery, now removed, but it did provide solid cover.

OCC:*I couldn't find if his old wound had been rolled for or not, but I might have missed it. I rolled for it anyway and he did show up, cursing a little at the pain.

Corbin and Harken were the first of the Ironmen to return fire, having scaled the flanks of the highest point around. From their height atop the slag heap, Harken's Bolt gun plunged fire on the exposed Van Saar, putting Lira down with one of the explosive shells, but expending the last of his expensive ammunition supply. Corbin's Lasgun did for Honore, another shot that out a Van Saar down.

Brim made it to the Top of the building he had been climbing, the smallest of the Corewards three, it had a commanding view, and he smiled as he saw it gave him perfect covering fire to protect his Brother. Dakar took up a shooting position on the same roof, but without the advantage of hight, his shotgun round clanged off the scant cover still protecting Anna.

Lark and Kara working as a close fighting pair were trying to advance with what cover they could get behind the barbed wire and rails and their shots were more focused on distracting the enemy than actually putting them down.

Grim was pinned under fire and the Van Saar tried to sieze the initiative and win the firefight. Rambrand rallied his gang out of their fox holes, not in a headlong charge against the foe, but into the best cover available, the central buildings.

He and Tavinmade it to the best firing positions inside the building, Allis halted, Halbretch advancing past her as she lined up a shot through a gap in the cover, which pinned the Dakar to his window.

Lorraine crammed into the tight cover with Matt... it was a little close, but now Lorraine could stab anyone who tried to get in the only door. Matt's Lasgun round missed when Lorraine readjusted though, and the ganger fumed as he watched his enemies ignore the shooting.

He didn't have to fume too long, Grimm pinned down by lasgun fire was vulnerable to Anna, who opened up her first rounds throwing shrapnel into the body of Piper and causing a flesh wound on Grimm. Before Anna could really chew him up, the heavy bolter chattered, and Jammed. Anna swore, but without the field kits that were not included in the blackmarket for guns it would need to be fixed in the workshop.

Now two members of the Tunnel Foxes were fuming, and the Ironmen were encircling their positions. Anna was less vulnerable to fire, but still the most exposed of the Van Saars, and Corbin and Harken advanced, Corbin still shooting, despite Harken's nickname he was not, instead, he was hefting a fist sized object. Corbin's shots pinned Anna, she dare not raise her head past the sheet metal concealment protecting her position.

Brim settled it, unleashing his Heavy bolter, though he couldn't get an exact fix on the locations of people in the building, he trusted the damage done to the building would suffice. Between the explosive rounds and the falling debrie, when Brim finally ran to the end of his Ammo belt, the corner of the building sagged, Halbrecht was Down and Tavin was suffering a flesh wound. Before any more of his gang were wounded Rambrand retreated, the covering fire serving only too prevent the Ironmen following too closely.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind who controlled the disputed Slag. It was still undecided who would control all the Slag.

Slagburns Ironmen Victory!

Adlan

2012-10-12, 03:05 PM

Battle for the BoomBoxz

The BoomBoxz of the Hiveworker is part devotional to the Machine god and part prop for courtship event. Constructed by workers in the many empty warehouses and factories of the hive, they are sometimes fixed, sometimes mobile. Occasionally the adherents will gather to see who has the greatest of the Boomboxz and the sounds bring down Enforcer Patrols. Even parts from damaged Boomboxz can still be very valuable

-Notes from an Antiques Guide to Hive Primus, Propraganda Leaflet XXI-745

In some empty space which had once resounded to the semi-devotional beats and rhythms of the machine god the sounds that now sounded were softer, quieter, as two groups searching for lost treasure encountered each other.

A chorus of weapon cocking echo'd. A different Rhythm was about to begin.

The Tunnel foxes were at the edge of the clearing, the prize was in there sights, as were the Purple cloaks. Still approaching the clearing, they were shcoked as Nathan, Lex and Reggie opened fire from their vantage points on the roof of the central corewards building.

Nathan's first shot missed, taken while he was still advancing to his position, Lex and Reggie reached their positions first, Lex missing, but Reggie, at extreme range for his bolt pistols opened up on the purple cloaks now taking what cover there was at the edge of their alley ways. Downing two of the Purple Cloaks with a brief burst of explosive gyrostabilised bolter rounds.

Nathan's second shot downed Nairia, Casually extracting and exchanging the power cell for his lasgun after the shot.

Two groups of the Unfolding Shadow advanced under this covering fire, Jack, Henry and Winfred slightly behind and to the side. And Mike with Ronnie slightly ahead at the lip of the alley way.

Mike's missing eye told as his shotgun fire spanged wide, while Ronnies pistols shells weren't worth wasting only the only targets in range, the downed figures of Rava and Alda.

The Purple Cloaks had a tense moment, three of their number down, but Pavlina Bairbre was made of sterner stuff than a retreat with the prize in sight. She rallied her girls and headed away from the alley cloaked by the Unfolding Shadow.

Nairia staunches the flow of blood from her wounds, and struggles to her feet, gripping the plasma gun in blood stained hands while her fellow heavy Dervia and Udra return fire.

Pavlina and a Large group of her fellows ignore ranged combat in their focus on reaching the farthest Treasure, one of a pair of long broken BoomBoxz.

Ronnie Opens up, his first shot downing Tondra, but then one of his bolter rounds misfires, or misfeeds, and explodes in his hand, he too is downed by his own weapon.

Mike makes a rare hit, but only catches the extremities of Cary's, a mere fleshwound. The rest of Unfolding Shadows fire power can now be brought to the fight. Harry's heavy Plasma Dissolved a significant part of the Boomboxz that the Escher's were using as cover, trusting to the Delaques financial instincts to protect them, which is obviously not the case. Pinned under fire from Nathan and Winfred, the Escher's can't return shot for shot, but Jack is in no state to order them too attack against a pit fighter. He's fine... untill he's not and they don't know if he'll have an 'incident'.

His Accuracy hasn't been helped either...

There's no need too, with so many Purple cloaks down, and recovering what precious they can from the Boomboxz, the Escher's are Bottling.

Head Wound or not, the Unfolding Shadow are left holding the field, and half the loot!.

Papa Doc

2012-10-13, 05:29 PM

Piper came crashing though the door, wheezing and clutching at his chest. "Boss! News!" and collapsed on the floor, dropping a handful of papers as he fell.

"The doc told that kid to take it easy." Grunted Corbin disdainfully.

"No dice. Look at this: Ratskin gang spotted encroaching. New Escher gang with Archeotech dig coming out of Motortown. Scavvy gangers spotted everywhere. Goliaths? New kid might have nearly bought it the other day, but he did good running all the way back. He must have some good contacts still, I hadn't heard of any of this yet." Lark continued reading and making small notes on the side of the papers. "We'll send a small scouting party out, I want to know where each one of these gangs is holing up, and who they have designs on."

"Agreed." Corbin picked at his teeth for a minute with a shaving of wood. "DAKAR! SKRUGG!" He waited, tapping his foot impatiently.

Harken walked in, half suited up already. "That madman and your shootist took off just a few seconds ago. Ol' scatterbrains was chattering about snooping and pooping and scooping. What did I miss?"

Corbin laughed heartily, taking a seat at his map table. "He's mad, that's for sure, but he's smart, and a heck of a skulk too. I imagine we'll know more about these new threats by day's end. Now everyone else, back to work! I want that new slag pit secured, and I want anyone who meets our standards up to talk to me later. I'll have them running their own security by nightfall, and thanking us for having a few men on standby for their call."

thegunslinger

2012-10-14, 01:50 AM

The congregation filed in to the chapel, hab families taking seats and talking in low voices before the service started. It was a routine, one that the hab members took comfort in. Their lives were harsh, brutish and often short. Worship was frequently their only comfort. Even better, it was the best place to catch up on gossip.

The congregation fell silent as the Holy Flame filled in the front pews. Making the sign of the Aquila, Deacon approached the crude Throne that was at the behind the alter. The representation was painted garish yellow in pale imitation of the Throne of Terra. In front was a large tome, which Deacon opened to the reading of the day.

Elizah entered the chapel after his gangers and took up position behind the alter, nodding his thanks at Deacon as he did so. The other ganger nodded at several of the young juves who handed out hymn books and another swung a small incense bearer, filling the chapel with cloyingly sweet smoke.

'Brothers and Sisters. Before today's service I have news. Troubling news. Heretics. Mutants. Drug abusers. The worst kind of scum have drifted from the outer reaches of the hive and have settled near by. The mutant scavvies have crawled out of their fetid pits. Radskins have drifted in out of the waste and the grox-headed Goliaths have decided to try and take what is ours. But fear not, you who are blessed in the Emperor's site! The Holy Flame has triumphed over these foes and their ilk before. Through the might given to us by Him on Earth, we have driven the scavvies before us. We have burned out the plaguers from this very settlement and we have ensured our purity in the Emperor's site. However, brave souls - we need your help to ensure that our brave lads are armed with the best equipment to keep you safe! Aid us in our hour of need.'

And with a meaningful look and the juves shaking of the donation-bowl, Elizah continued on with the sermon.

Adlan

2012-10-14, 12:57 PM

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Round4.jpg

End of Round 4!

New Gangs have arrived on the Scene* , Clockwise of the city the wastes are claimed to be the Tribal lands of the SeaBass-Boullion Tribe, who's constant migration has brought them closer to the dwelling of the Hivers. Will they seek vengence on those who desecrate the hive spirits and sacred archeotech.

Beyond the last Holestead and Redemption settlement, past the edge of Rustholm is a Scrofulous Waste, where it is rumoured the worst scum have formed around a group of Scavvies known as the Karoul Family. Sump Chasm lies here, and who knows what climbs up from the sump, and how it is related to the growing Zombie Problem in Rustholm.

Across the Monorail Tracks, The Precinct house seems quiet and empty. But in a far holestead, hearing of the fall of the Watchgang, newcomers, Tamla's Tigers have moved in, giving rise to it's name, the Tigers Hole, they are producing archeotech finds at an uncanny rate. Hailing from the settlement of Motortown, they are intruders on an already complex gang situation.

Edging in on old claims, Bryan's Bashers have reopened claims that they were abandoned by an old goliath gang crushed by the Stainless Steel Ratz in the old days and they are supplying Slag and other Minerals. They also have taken over what is now called the Bar and Gym Following a Vicious set of brawls. Goliaths have been absent from the settlement for some time, but will their arrival trigger a change of allegiance from Rustholm Residents?

*See OC Page 1 for MapUpdate

thegunslinger

2012-10-14, 07:23 PM

Jebediah was sitting in his favourite chair, putting together the finishing touches on his newly rebuilt flamer. He realised that the leaking seals were holding, now that the pressure valve was turned down slightly, preventing the promethium from dribbling out. Elizah had taken to giving all the weapons a once over before leaving the settlement as a precaution - so far, several batches of bad ammunition had been found and the responsible parties dealt with according to scripture. One of them was still smoking in the courtyard in front of the chapel, as a reminder to the rest.

Praise-be-His-Name ambled in to the workshop and plopped into the seat next to the larger ganger. 'How's it, Jeb? You hear the news?' he asked, flicking open his pack of lho-sticks and offering one to his friend. The ganger took one and flipped it up into his mouth, lighting it from a nearby gas-lantern.

'Aye lad, I heard' he said. 'Elizah told me and Obi after the sermon. Looks like we've got Goliaths coming in, on the other side of the scav-pit.'

'What do you reckon they want? Just spoiling for a fight?'

'What do Goliaths ever want? Godless heathens to a man. More interested in pumping iron and kissing their muscles than giving praise to the Emperor. No doubt they want to prove something. New gang and all.'

Praise-be-His-Name chuckled. 'I hear that the big feller, Bryan, is no slouch. 8 feet tall and so full of muscle-synth his eyelids bulge.' He said it in a joking tone, but Jebediah understood the nervousness behind it. The juve was repeating hab-market rumours and scuttlebutt and was looking for reassurance.

'You've been listening to the underhivers again, haven't you lad? You reckon that this slab of meat is really that tall? And where would scummers like that get synth? Even the chrono-gladiators can't get uphive goods like that sort of thing and this lot are no travelling pit-fighters. Even if they were, you saw what happened to the last lot who challenged Eli. Hardly enough to scrape off the floor. Not to mention, Obidiah and his babe Sabbat - they'll roast the pecs right off them. Not to mention me and mine here.' Jebediah tapped his flamer in front of him. 'The Holy Flame is going to be just fine - after all, we've got you leading the way, right?'

And with that, Praise be His Name didn't feel quite as reassured as he did before.

sean_hyer

2012-10-15, 11:18 AM

A last minute strategy meeting was in progress just in front of the Holy Flame's path. "Roight then," Big Bad Bryan sneered, "which one a you tossers is gonna gimme a better idea? Huh?"

"Boss, we could..."

"Shut it, worm! Yous gonna follow mah Plan, see, or ah'm gonna take Toothpick here an' shove it up yer arse!"

The gang hastily mumbled consent. Toothpick was Bryan's giant two-handed sword. Nobody had found out whether he actually used it as a toothpick, and nobody wanted to. It was rumored that the burly man had some orkish blood in him, and at times like these they believed it.

"So. Ere's the Plan, then. An' if any of you lousy good-fer-nuthin' whiners pipes up this time, I'll pipe 'im right back down!..."

Leon slouched behind a pile of junk, listening to Bryan's plan. His mind wandered to the stories he had been hearing recently, about this Holy Flame. Pious nutcases, of course, but that wasn't all. How gangs fell to pieces before them. How they had driven the Scavvies away a few months back, and done so thoroughly enough that they were just now beginning to reemerge. How they incinerated everyone who got in their way, and mercilessly executed trespassers, heretics and nonbelievers. Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he had been to a church service?....Shaking these thoughts out of his head, he tried to concentrate on his leader's words.

"Those bleedin' Emperor-botherers have guns, yeah. Lots 'o guns. They've got their fancy 'training' and their fancy 'tactics.' But we got sumfin else. We got guts, see."

He had apparently moved on from his rundown of tactics to an inspiring speech. Golden Throne! It must be nearly time! Catching the worried look on his face, Stefan grinned down at him.

"Don'cha fret, kiddo. Stick with me - I'll see you right."

Peering cautiously around his shelter, he caught sight of the approaching Cawdors. Most gangs made at least a pretence of caution while scouting, but these guys just strode forwards like they owned the place. And they were... was that singing?! As the hymn's refrain washed out over the soon-to-be battleground, he sized up his opponents. Emperor on Earth, but there were a lot of them. He caught a glimpse of the priest at their head, and shuddered at the sight of the glowing claw swinging at his side. He had heard stories about that, too - and that the priest had the skills to use it.

Forcing these thoughts from his mind, he focused once more on his boss.

"If we can give the Flame a bloody nose here, if we can show them that we's the hardest gang around... then it don't matter if we lose twice as many as 'em. They ain't got no guts. Make it messy, boys! Make it cost 'em! BASH 'EM!!"

Here goes nothing, he thought, cheering along with the rest, and then turning to face his fate.

Adlan

2012-10-16, 12:22 PM

ROUND 5
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/04bd6454cea44c5bb864e34d1d459a5b0.jpg

Bryan's Bashers vs The Members of the Holy Flame
GangFight
Map:http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/5AAEEB63-33DB-4021-9C09-7F0B792E1BCA-325-000000167F4D9157.jpg
Advancing across the settlement, going Corewards, the Goliath's arrive looking like they are not looking for the fight they are looking for. The Holy Flame block their progress any further into Cawdor Territory, giving Bryan the Fight he was looking like he wasn't looking for. (Cawdor deploy on the Corewards (right) edge, Goliaths on the Rimwards (left) edge.

Adlan

2012-10-17, 08:22 AM

The Seabass-Bullion Tribe vs Tamla's Tigers
Hit and Run
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/48989581-4048-4A7B-B857-BAA16256A0DE-325-00000092E596C5E0.jpg
The Holestead is the current Hideout of the Gang, and it's isolated from the rest of Rustholm, the slime pit provides nutrition and the sails of the water still slowly produce drinking water. The Shadowy low light levels around don't help with visibility, but fortunately somewhere high above some elecshine filters down... or perhaps it's produced by a bioluminescent slime.

Adlan

2012-10-17, 11:09 AM

Should of Fought a Nun
The Goliaths arrived in a dense group, packed onto the clockwise end of the Rimwards side. The Members of the Holy Flame, seeing the approaching Bashers, quickly began their own advance under the watchful eye of their skilled leader.

The Goliaths, although they had obviously seen their opponents, advanced as a group - although an observer familiar with their group might notice that neither heavy was present in the cluster - a fact that their close grouping was designed to conceal as well as possible.

"Hey! Preacher-man! Come on out and fight!" Bryan bellowed his challenge to the Cawdor gang in general, hoping to attract the renowned priest's attention.

"Just us. Man ta man. Yew an' that fancy gadget against me an' my Toothpick." Bryan patted the massive sword hanging on his back lovingly.

Bryan gestured to the men and woman around him. "Sod off!"

A suspicious eye might notice the way many of the scattering gang members ended up near cover as they formed into a rough semicircle around their leader. A keen eye might also notice the two missing members, perched high above their comrades, heavy weapons already trained at the space in front of Bryan. Two high buildings overlooked the alley way that Bryan seemed to have selected as an impromptu fighting pit, and the Rimwards one held both the Goliath Heavies.

"Come on! Coward! Come fight me!" Bryan's taunting increased in volume, anger, and intensity. "Come closer so I can **** yew like I ****ed yer panzy emperor!"

Elizah finally moved with his group, approaching the hulking Goliath. He moved casually, fearlessly, powerfist swinging at his side. But he did not approach alone. 4 of his own Gangers and Juves accompanied him, armed for close combat.

"NOW!" Screamed Bryan, dropping into a crouch. Behind him, three guns rose and snapped off quick shots, too quick, serving only to alert the Cawdors to the decit. Heavy stubber fire walked across the group, leaving Elizah, standing calm and untouched while a grenade dropped down from above, the blast felling Elizah's companions where they stood, Throne's Servant, Aquila and Methuselah were all down.

"Haw!" Bryan's raucous laugh rang off the surrounding buildings. "If yous wanted a fair fight, yous shoulda fought a NUN! YAARRRR!"

The Smoke of the Grenade cleared....

....leaving Elizah standing there, unharmed.

Bryan's roar died in his throat, as the Goliath's swept forwards, only for Elizah's own firepower to be brought to bear, as five shot guns throw lead from the central buildings windows. two of the rounds are aimed at smashing apart the Massive sword weilding loonies threatening Elizah. Harumash doesn't waste his shot, which is good because his shotgun is now jammed shut and he struggles to reload it. Leon is a bloody mess on the floor from it. Death to Xenos inflicts a flesh wound on Lorelei. The Other rounds fired are aimed at supressing the Heavies lurking in the opposite tall building, but of the three shots, only one Heavy is pinned as a result.

The surviving Goliaths smashing into hand to hand with a combat master. Big Bad Bryan, with Anna and Stefan take on Elizah, but with the same deadly efficacy shown in the arena, Elizah puts Anna out of action and Stefan down. Big Bad Bryan fought to a draw, but had to fall back beaten, his massive sword too slow and clumsy compared to the Powerfist.

Obediah and the rest of the gang had been following orders to circle left, at the noise of gun fire they had doubled their pace, but still they were too far to assist their leader, and the gentle Phoump of a Grenade Laucher could be heard.

The shot Arced, and slotted in through a smashed out window. The Explosion sounded louder, directed and contained by the building, when it cleared, Abraham, Gabriel and Harumash were down with Shrapnel and overpressure. Gabriel was Out of Action.

Elizah had won his not so single combat with ease, but the Heretical Goliaths could do untold damage to the sacred cause of the emperor if their firepower were to damage the members of his flock who were not as well armoured by faith as himself.

As he retreated, he swore there would be a reckoning. A Vengence for this Goliath Victory!

Icedaemon

2012-10-17, 03:59 PM

Despite their best efforts and the initial apparent success of the tunneling fireteam, the Van Saar gang had to fall back. Against the sheer numbers the Ironmen can afford to field, any setbacks could lead to failure. After Liria's power pack failed and Anna's bolter jammed, the lynchpin of Rambrand's plan was gone.

Luckily, the Tunnel Foxes would not think themselves deserving of their moniker if at least the officers did not know the nearest entrance to web of tunnel networks underneath rimwards Rustholm at all times. Dragging their fallen, the gang makes its escape in mere seconds, disappearing almost like ghosts. The truth, of course, was less than mystical. That Anna had managed to drag both the unconscious bodies of Honore and Liria and any dropped weapons to the tunnel they had arrived by and sealed the door well enough to stump any Ironmen looking to pursue was a feat of both strength and dexterity. Even so, she had torn a ligament in her frantic evacuation and could do little but kneel and grit her teeth, right below the hidden hatch. It was thus that Rambrand and the rest of his group found them. Halbert, while unconcious as he was pulled into the tunnels, had woken up by then. A bandage was all he got or apparently needed. Tavin likewise had a scrap of cleanish cloth around his thigh, featuring a slowly expanding red spot.

The gang did not need to see Anna press one of her index fingers to her mouth or point the other one upwards to be silent. Even the juves had wised up enough by then. Still, better safe than sorry.

Navigating hastily-built litters through the maintenence tunnels, cramped even before being half-filled with rubble and debris, was not easy. Getting home like that was next to impossible, at least not without the patients perishing. A secluded ruined hab dome devoid of anything interesting whatsoever had to do.

While even Van Saar civilians typically know at least the basics of first aid, patching up both of the still-wounded members of the gang seemed a difficult task. Honore at the least could be handled by Rambrand. Smelling salts woke him up and the wounds could be sealed without noteworthy medical skill. Liria, however, was a different matter. With her sister fretting nearby, Tavin was pressed into the unlikely situation of a juve giving instructions to and being assisted by seasoned gangers. The bolter shell which the woman had been hit by had broken through her lowermost right rib and burst - that she was still alive at all was a testament to the inherent toughness of Necromunda's inhabitants. Even using the most delicate and razor-like knife the gang had and a pair of tweezers Honore had on him as he would, removing even part of the shrapnel was tricky. Anna and Halbert could look to their own well being. Even after Liria's situation was mostly stable, Tavin continued working in said ruin. As the other members of the gang made supply trips between home base, Reaper's Reach and the hab dome, the wound got disinfected and sewed up. With her right lung damaged, almost destroyed, Liria only breathed with a pronounced wheeze, but she breathed, at least.

The situation had a few interesting side effects. With lone members of the Tunnel foxes generally getting in and out of their settlement without being too careful, one of the Delaque loyalists still remaining in the village had decided to take his chances and attacked the member of the Van Saar gang the boy judged the least dangerous-looking. As it happened, the club which was to knock her out if not kill her only gave Allis something to direct the rage which had been building up inside her at. She had already begun nailing the young man to yet another wall just outside the settlement when Honore chanced upon her and reminded her that asking him about any other such fools before finishing the bastard off might have been prudent. The beatdown and possibility of investigation did lead to the settlement's leaders offering to pay their tithe early though. The firing range itself was only used rarely, with Halbert perhaps spending the most time in there during this particular week.

However, just prior to Rambrand and Matt's scheduled meet-up with Red, they spotted (and heard) something quite peculiar indeed. Lorraine, who had been wandering off a lot those last few days, was petting a bat as big as any Old-Terra flying fox. Stranger still, the creature seemed to enjoy the attention, hanging from her extended left arm.

"Wossa good girl Bessie? Yes you are!"

sean_hyer

2012-10-17, 04:38 PM

Most of the gang were out celebrating. They had tangled with the toughest gang around, and come out on top. To hear Selma tell it, she had won the battle single-handedly - but so long as she was carrying that grenade launcher, no-one seemed inclined to disagree.

A couple of members, though, were not in such high spirits. Bryan sat in the bar, drinking a bottle of second best. It was a testament to his constitution and massive size that he was still upright and coherent, but it had clearly mellowed him a bit.

"Whaddya think, Nick?" he asked the heavy sitting next to him. "Have I lost my stuff?"

Nikolai was clearly uncomfortable at the way his boss was acting. "Nah, you still got it."

"I dunno. That man - Elizah - scares me, an' I don' mind admittin' it. I never thought I'd say that again since old Noah bought it last year, but there it is." Bryan took another slug from the bottle in his fist. "He walked through a grenade and a hail o' gunfire without a scratch on 'im! Four o' us rushed 'im - and three went down. Anna never got back up. If that fight had lasted much longer, who's ta say I wouldn' a joined her?"

"Nah, boss, nah. You'd a taken him, right enough. Besides, he had better gear. An' now that we've got cash, we can fix that!"

Bryan sighed. "Maybe yer right, Nick. I just felt like a juve fightin' 'im. A green juve, at that." And with that, the gang leader returned to his morose drinking.

The Guilder heard the new arrivals long before he saw them. Goliaths. Just perfect. There went any hopes of a profit today. With a grunt of effort, he hoisted a massive barbell out onto the desk, then leaned back in his chair as the Goliaths entered the store.

"Well, howdy fellas. What can ah get'cha?"

One of the massive men walked up to the counter, while the rest looked around the shop. Catching sight of the weight, he grinned, and pumped it effortlessly a few times. "A man after my own heart, I see." Drawing a sword the Guilder doubted he would even be able to lift, he dropped it on the counter. "What can you get me for this?"

Hiding his surprise, the guilder examined the notched blade critically. "Three credits. Four, tops."

"No, not that. What can I get to replace the thing. It's too slow an' heavy."

Well, thought the Guilder, this is sure a first. A Goliath, saying a sword is too big? Reaching up, he hooked a chainsword off the wall behind him, and passed it across the counter. "This might fit the bill..."

Bryan looked at the sword quizzically, then back at the merchant. "What'cha tryin' to pull? That thing's useless! Those spikes will stick in the first thing it hits, an' then what?"

Suppressing a sigh, and still holding the blade out, the Guilder pressed the activation rune. With a coughing roar, the blades began to whirl. With a second press, they stopped again.

Slowly, realization dawned. "Ohhh. It's one a them... them..." "Chainswords, boss." "Chainswords!" Bryan finished triumphantly, as if the prompt had never occurred. "I'll take it!"

Seeing how quickly the purchase was made, the Guilder decided to press his luck. "If yer plannin' on usin' that, ye might wanna look at a gun fer yer other hand." With that, he opened the gun cabinet behind him. It was almost amusing how quickly the Goliath selected the one with the largest barrel - a bolt pistol. This might turn out to be a good day, after all.

Back outside the bar, Bryan caressed his massive sword lovingly, feeling the memories it held. That dent there, the most recent one, where Elizah had knocked the blade aside with a blow of his powerclaw. Those chips further along, a memento of his duel with one-eyed Sergei. That notch in the guard, where the trusty sword had caught an Escher dagger. Years of memories lived in this blade. Ah well. All good things must end.

Spinning the massive sword easily, he raised it, and thrust it hard into the ground with both hands. It stuck fast, not yielding at all to a discrete jiggle. "Right!" he cried. "Listen up! If yew wants ta join the tuffest gang around, now's yer chance. The first man who can lift Toothpick, here, has a place. Weapons, gals and glory, boys - if yer man enough!"

The young men gathered around, eager to show each other up. First one, then another, approached, to cheers as they advanced, and then laughter when they failed. The sword was heavy, and firmly lodged. Maybe I ought to plant it less firmly, thought Bryan, bored already.

A new voice cut through the babble. A young woman walked up to the sword. Ignoring the catcalls of the crowd, she shoved past the latest failure. "Ah'll show yew how it's done!"

With a great heave, she lifted the sword out, and swung it in a clumsy circle. As the jeers faded, she laughed. "Maybe if y'all worked at the mines rather than skivin' an' drinkin' all the time, you'd be able to, too!"

Bryan stepped forwards. "What's yer name, gal?"

"I'm Tanya. Who're you?"

There was a surge of indrawn breath from the crowd, but to their surprise, Bryan just laughed. "The name's Bryan. Welcome to my Bashers!"

thegunslinger

2012-10-17, 05:32 PM

A somber mood settled over Redemption. An easy victory over a new gang had cost the Holy Flame dearly - two of their members had gone to greet the Emperor, another was missing. The only bright spot was Gabriel escaping from the Goliaths and the enthusiastic juve from the games who followed them back turned out to have some merit.

Regardless, Elizah sat in the chapel in prayer. His back was scoured and bloody from the self inflicted punishment he had given himself. The two heavies had to restrain him before he inflicted serious and lasting punishment on himself, such was his grief. Clutching his rosary, Elizah muttered prayer after prayer, begging the Emperor for forgiveness, asking Him to reveal where he had gone wrong and thanking him for the opportunity to suffer in His sight.

Finally, after a night in contemplation, Elizah strode back out of the chapel. His eyes met the worried looks of his gangers, but he reassured them with a grim smile.

'Hold the funerals today. I will preside over them. Deacon, spread the word.'

Knowing better than arguing with Elizah, Deacon made the sign of the Aquila and left to tell the families of the dead gangers that they were to attend the chapel.

Obidiah ventured to voice what they were all thinking. 'What happens next?'

Elizah bared his teeth in a combination of both a snarl and a grin.

'Next, my sons, we are to reap the greatest gift of all. Next, we earn our vengence!'

sean_hyer

2012-10-17, 06:16 PM

At the head of his gang, Bryan strode into the settlement he and his men had taken. Raising his voice, he bellowed a speech.

"Greetings, citizens. Today, we have liberated you from your oppressors, the so-called "Holy" Flame. We have..."

He breaks off, then bursts out in raucous laughter.

"Okay, okay. I can't keep a straight face through that twaddle."

He raises his voice again.

"Anyways, we showed those self-righteous pricks who's boss 'round 'ere. You's under Goliath protection now!"

Smiling, he looks around this latest addition to the gang's territory. A couple of juves were looking at his muscular fighters with something approaching awe. No wonder, if all they'd seen so far were those Cawdor sissies. Perhaps a few of them would make good recruits, given time. Everything was going his way.

Adlan

2012-10-18, 03:04 PM

Tunnel Foxes vs Ironmen
Scavangers
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Scavangermap.jpg

With the Tunnel Foxes prospecting from the Rimwards Edge, and the Ironmen looking for mineral wealth advacing from the Core, what sort of violence will ensue amid the sparkling glitter of mineral outcrops?

Karoul Family vs Unfolding Shadow
Ambush
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Ambusheoud4.jpg

Unfolding Shadow are surrounded in a thick nest of buildings connected by a warren of walkways. Their only hope is that their friends get back to them before the Cannibals tear them down.

Grailkeeper

2012-10-19, 09:37 AM

A quiet day in Motor Town.

It was always a quiet day in Mo'Town these days.

At the Tigers Holeshe only sounds were the usual background noise of generators, working machinery and syncopated bass lines. Well that and a arguement between an 11 year old and a grown adult of 19.

I don't wanna stay home and guard the still, I wanna go you know where with you guys and pick up the you know what.

You Wanna be a tiger you gotta do what I say, ya dig? and I say stay home and mind the stash.

But if some guys start causing trouble in the 'hood, you know up to no good.

You gotta autopistol, you know how to use it too. Gladys an' Vandella'll be watching our backs. They'll be come running with the big guns at the first sign o trouble. There's always tigers in the tunnels too...

Icedaemon

2012-10-21, 05:15 PM

While Rambrand would have preferred a chance to ask Lorraine about what she apparently thought she was doing with that monster, the arrival of Red's halftrack led to them not really managing more than suspicious looks followed by a few chuckles.

As the vehicle stops, Rambrand spoke up, loudly enough to be heard over the still roaring engine.

"Red! How are you doing these days?"

Not too bad. There's plenty of people out by the rim who would gladly pay a hundred or more for the medpack I carry. Even that Escher woman who won the tourney asked about it and was willing to pay better than you did. I might just try and see if more surplus gear can find its way downhive. Parting with it for less than a hundred would be quite a shame...

"If you really want more than a hundred for it, your friends out by the rim might just get it after all. My little group of friends has taken a few shots, but nothing we couldn't patch up without Van Saar ingenuity. I'd like that medipack, but not enough to starve to death for it."

How many creds are you carrying?

"One-hundred and five. I'll also need to buy a new las power cell and a few heavy bolter parts, nothing too rare. Bolter ammunition and plasma canisters as well."

Looks like you won't have enough to pay for the brand new price of the medikit...

"If you aren't paying us a dime for our protection and intend to charge us as much as you do the rubes you run into elsewhere, maybe. If you are a prudent and sensible man, as I know you are, you'll pay us enough that we get to give you your money back."

---

The trip is uneventful. While the new gangs of scavvies and goliaths might be out to make names for themselves, they either don't know about the halftrack or aren't stupid enough to try their luck against Old Morgan and the Tunnel Foxes. Once inside the main settlement, the vehicle stops. Smiling, red goes to the back and hands Rambrand the medical kit, still a good piece of gear but now almost looking like more trouble than it was worth.

A hundred credits, like I said last time.

Handing over the ninety credits left over after bartering for the more ordinary goods, Rambrand is a bit glum, but not discourteous.

"Tough, but fair. We did make you wait. What's our fee for riding along?"

Fourteen. Minus the ten going into the kit.

"You're leaving me less pocket change than I'd need for a new knife?"

Do you need a new knife? I can probably part with one of the cruder ones for only four, since we're friends.

Seeing the crowds approach, Rambrand decides to leave it at that. Arguing with the merchant in front of strangers will lead to one if not both of them losing face and the situation only getting worse. At the least, this piece of equipment is of some use.

---

A while later, back at Rita's, the cousins are surprised to see much of the rest of their gang looking at the new girl with a mixture of amusement, bewilderment and a slight bit of awe in the cases of the uphivers among them.

"They're really nice, honest! Bessie's all calm even with everybody here. Scruff looks cranky, but those are just love bites, is all. Hi chief!"

Rambrand sighs and sits down, more amused by Matt's shock at the sight of the new girl, still not completely comfortable in her Van Saar suit, handling the two large bats.

"All right. They might prove useful. I've heard some Ratskins use bats to send messages this way and that, we can do that too. If we're in a fight, they can frighten and distract enemies. I'll let you keep them. However, anything they **** on, I expect cleaned and polished the next minute. If they turn on any of us, we put them down, you as well if you protest. This is as fair a deal as you'd get in any gang."

Slightly put down, the juve nods. The general joviality within the room decreases as well. There's something Rambrand isn't happy about, which leads to him having that steel in his voice.

"Yes chief."

At that moment, an another bat flies in, this one bigger and meaner-looking than either of the two. Matt, his back to the entrance, nearly hit the floor and tries to fumble for his sidearm, only to hurt his still stiff and scorch-marked shoulder.

"Rat****!"

"Tuftsy!"

After the laughter has died down, Matt still grumbling, Rambrand approaches a table by a fairly large map of Rustholm. A vaguely hammer-shaped pin marking the new goliath gang has been added to the map already, though news of their recent victory versus the Holy Flame still hadn't reached the actual settlement by the time Rambrand had got on his way back to he hideout. He prods at a cluster of violet thumbtacks signifing areas the Purple Cloaks had been reported controlling.

"Any source I've gone to has said the same thing. Bairbre and her lot have pulled rimwards. Maybe they think they'll have an easier time there, maybe they are planning something big. Maybe they thought the Underhive's too tough for them. Either way, we make use of that. They didn't settle out there for long enough that they could just pull out without leaving anything useful behind. That mineral outcrop can last for years, we can hit that mine and grab hold of a nice little bounty, I'd wager."

Pissing off another neighbour? The Delaque's haven't the guts to challenge us yet, but they did beat the Purple Cloaks, they'll make another go at us soon. The Orlocks think we are weak, they'll try to hit our assets. We'll manage with just the two of them trying to get at our throats, but three's pushing it.

While Rambrand is irked by hearing the objection, Anna is experienced and trustworthy enough to listen to. Besides, she is not wrong.

"I wouldn't go for this if I didn't think the rumours were true. We're still running some scouts through the tunnels to make sure the area is clear of Escher sentries and trying to be as careful as possible. I know there were some zombies there not too long ago, so Lorry's bats won't arouse suspicion, we can try using them to relay messages."

"Are you certain the maintenance tunnels range that far?"

"I've studied my map well enough. Back when the buses were still going, there was a major road going clockwise a short bit rimwards of here. We should be able to use it."

"Chief, I don't know if I can get the bats to fly to someone else. Getting them to follow me around was hard."

"That's why we are starting you off on this operation. This is not supposed to be a critical fight, just a quick cred grab."

"We start off tomorrow."

The matter settled, Rambrand went on to address specific gangers.

"Matt, if your shoulder's giving you trouble, you can watch Rita's. Anna's right, our enemies might come at us when we are out. Some sort of sentry would be useful."

"Bugger that. If it's a quick smash and grab we're going to, we'll pull it off all the quicker if we all go. I can handle it, the pain comes and goes."

Rambrand nods. Given how often Matt glanced at Liria and his facial expression, it was plain that the former security guard did not want to look weaker than the woman whose wound was much more serious and fresh.

"Liria. How are you feeling?"

"The worst is over. I can still shoot straight and I don't intend to play housekeeper if I can avoid it."

"Fair enough. Mind you, you spent so much time in the firing range, you killed the battery of your lasgun for good. I got you a new one. Make sure your gear is combat-ready in the future."

With that, he hands her the new battery. Her former confrontational edge, already diminished by her wound, seems to have dissipated utterly by now.

---

Indeed, the very next day, the Tunnel foxes head rimwards, then clockwise along the bus routes. Nearing Purple Cloak territory, three of them enter the maintenance tunnels and range further ahead, trying to discern if there's a trap somewhere. Despite Lorraine's attempts, while the bats have begun to accept food from the other gangers, getting them to make carry messages and other items to specific people is still beyond her insofar.

Papa Doc

2012-10-21, 11:27 PM

Something made the hair on the back of Karra's neck stand up. It might have been the weird echos, or the biting stench from the chem pits, or the eerie combination of the darkness and the emptiness of the ruined buildings surrounding the mineral formations. The blackness seemed to stick to everything stubbornly, as if waiting to overwhelm anyone dumb enough to stray into it.

"Everybody pick a partner and spread a bit. I can't tell if I'm hearing boogeymen or footsteps out there. Stay on point." As if answering, a distorted rumble ran through the darkness, either a growl or a methane explosion. "I don't envy the man or woman who gets caught up by one of those. Keep moving."

Lark barked from behind a mineral formation. "Shadows up ahead. Maybe another gang. Weapons up and get moving." Everyone paired up and headed for the buildings, ready for whatever lie in wait ahead.

The Zoat

2012-10-23, 02:28 AM

Members of the Seabass-Bullion Group! Today we will crush the Tigers of Tamla, and feel their guts with our toes as we sort through their loot! My brothers and sisters, we must discombombulate their water still if we are to grow in strength, and at the end we will drive out the invaders!
Glinting Shells gestures angrily around, standing on top of an iron box as he cries out in rage.

Brothers Teacups, Clumsy, Boiling, Tiny, Swan and Shining as well as Sisters Killing, Thirteen, Fuzzy and Crow, we must all move together to defeat the Tigers! We go!

Adlan

2012-10-24, 08:32 AM

Raid on Motortown Holestead
The Braves, Thirteen Balls and Boiling Chapstick followed the cloak bearing Ratskins; Hungering Crow and Fuzzy Logic, lead by The Pure, Totem Warrior Shining Thought. They could see the lightly defended Holestead, far on the outskirts of the hivers settlement. But still part of the offence to the hive spirits that must be destroyed!

They knew that destroying the water still would drive off the Hivers, only they could find pure water in the wastes without such technology.

The Ratskins moved as a pack, advancing on the unsuspecting Juve, but she turned and soon Labelle spotted the movement, taking up over watch, eventually, Thirteen balls dashed from cover and she opened up, taking him down, but in her panic, emptying her autopistol magazine.

The Ratskins were quick to respond, and Hungering Crow downed Labelle with a blast from his shotgun, as Shining Thought hurried the others towards the Water still.

As the Ratskins scaled the building to reach the Vanes, the Tigers Teeth Arrived, Both heavies with their heavy stubbers, simple but reliable technology. They opened up with signal bursts as they ran on, unaimed but a warning and a rally cry.

Tamla was suspended by ropes down the crevasse which had opened up over the trove when they first heard the shots.- The sound of auto pistol fire. She started to winch her way up when the heavier sounds of two heavy stubbers joined in.

Holy Emperor, whats going on

It's the 'Skins They're trying to bushwack us!. Good thing Gladys and Vandella have our backs- don't think the ratties are ever able to match that firepower.

Quick, into the tunnels- theres a chance we can cath them before they take that kid down or hit our stash.

The Rest of the Tigers reinforcements would soon arrive. But the Ratskins for now had scaled the tower, and perilously exposed, they began to try to destroy the vanes. Hungering Crow's shotgun did superficial damage, but only to the sails. The Braves blows did nothing, and Fuzzy Logic was guarding their rear. Shining Thought was chanting, attempting to channel the spirits through his sacred weapon.

Gladys was weilding her Heavy Stubber like an Agr-worlder weilding a threshing machine. Shot after shot pounded around the ratties going for the water still. Vandella was trying to flank around and hit them from the side. but this first round of aimed fire was devastating, pinning Boiling Chapstick, while inflicting a flesh wound on Shining Thought.

Fuzzy Logic was quick to react helping the others to their feet, but the rest of the Tigers were beginning to arrive. Then Vandella's flank approach paid off, taking advantage of the lack of all around cover, her fire put down Boiling Chopstick, and the Totem Warrior knew that the spirits wanted Ratskin life preserved over destroying the Water source, at least this day.

The Ratskin's Left in the shadowy light, before the main body of the Tigers had even arrived through the tunnels. But Tamalas quick response had paid off, and the Still stood.

Adlan

2012-10-24, 09:41 AM

Crystal Maze
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/TunnelFoxes.jpg
Halbert lead the way as he Anna and Honore advanced by tunnels. The rest of the Tunnel foxes focused on the Clockwise edge, accompanied by of all things, swooping Bats.

The Ironmen, approaching from the core, are not expecting any specific enemy, and neither are the Tunnel foxes, both are expecting many surprises though on this possibly unabandoned, or possibly abandoned with good reason piece of turf.

And it's not the rival gang that either of them encouter first. Something... Something fast and horrible with a gurgle and a scurry and unseen in the poor underhive light. Halbert, isolated in the advance, looking for loot in the central buildings is not seriously harmed.

Skrugg is not so lucky, his good bit of cover was a good bit of cover for something else too. Or so it seems. There is a gunshot, a shriek, silence, and the inky blackness swallows another victim...

Reacting quickly to the presence of the enemy, on what was initially just a scavanger mission, Corbin has focused, the enemy are sighted coming from the clockwise, and his forces must focus on the enemy or the loot. Hovath and Harken were headed off, well protected by the dense crystal cover, while the rest of his gang were aimed at taking out the Tunnel Foxes, Who engaged in kind.

Brimm laughed heartily as he hammered one explosive shell after another at any Van Saar foolish enough to show skin above the decaying ruins. "Do you see what happens? Do you see what happens when you mess with some real warriors? Get some! GET SOME!" The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he dropped to a knee as the Van Sarr Heavy Bolter rounds flew overhead. "You shoot like a one-eyed Ratskin!" The Heavies were exchanging fire, Brimm's efforts pinning Rambrand, Liria and Matt, while Anna's had forced Brimm to Dodge, and now move for better cover.

But without the heavy bolter in action, and Grimm unable to get a good shot through the cover, Allis, Liria and Tavin made it into the central buildings first. Corbin made it into the building in time to see the last Fox vanish out ontothe walkway. Grimm was meant to be covering that escape, but Lasgun fire from the Tunnel Foxes kept him pinned.

Piper hurled a Grenade, but the buildings were proof to it's entry, and it bounced off a ledge. Karra moved through the dust and smoke left by Piper's grenade with her autopistol up and the Laspistol in her off-hand, close to her chest. Her silhouette was that of the Angel of Death, made more otherworldly by the effects of the harmonics on her soft humming. She spotted her target and loosed a burst from the Autopistol. "I'm gonna do to you what I did to Rambrand!" She leveled the laspistol and fired a hammer pair at the ganger's chest, aimed so that the two shots would impact within an inch of each other. Causing a Fleshwound on Matt, standing line of fire from the so named Rambrand.

Dodging out of the line of fire, the Tunnel Foxes had control of the third loot token, and they began to retreat. Anything more wasn't worth contesting with the Ironmen, and quiting the field in this was was no rout. Not even a trace of the tunnels were left, though the Ironmen were left the final pickings on the territory. And were left to contend with whatever it was lurking in the Shadows.

SlyJohnny

2012-10-24, 09:52 AM

Karoul Family (ambushing Unfolding Shadow)

A small scavvy girl peered out over the warren of ruined buildings from her perch, high up on a precarious stack of bricks that might once have been a rudimentary kiln. Aggi could see the gang of normies winding their way through. They didn't expect the ambush, but they weren't fools, neither; they were aware of danger, had weapons out and were moving in a rough formation, each of them always within sight of one other. They weren't soft meat, that was for sure. Rolling them was going to be hard. But necessary, she supposed, if she wanted to eat tonight.

"Get your ragged ass down here, gat, or they'll see you for sure!" hissed one of Craster's heads, even though it'd been him that had sent her up in the first place. Still, it wasn't a good idea to anger the mean old bastard, so she slipped down rapidly, scaling the precarious terrain with practiced dexterity.

She gave her report. "I seened 'em. Mebbe seven, eight normies. They's Unfolding Shadow alright, I seened their coats. And their leader got a big cut on his head. They's got tools, Uncle Craster. Las-shooters, shotgun, a couple a' repeaters. And some glowing things, like heater coils with rounded ends. One all big, one sized like a hip-rifle. I en't never seen those before." The girl blinked, her eyelids flickering out horizontally, and her beady eyes watched Craster to see how he was taking the news.

"Never mind what tools they got." hissed Craster's other head. "Karoul wants to know. Are they takin' the bait? Are they coming?"

"Yeah. They's coming."

Silently, the scavvie gang moved into position, concealed within the buildings, swiftly darting shadows flitting this way and that.

Grailkeeper

2012-10-25, 06:37 AM

Tamla walked around the holestead. Heavy stubber shells lay everywhere and crunched underfoot like rad-roaches. She noted patches of blood on teh ground, blood that didn't look local

Ratties musta gotten a sniff of the 'tech. I want triple guards from now on.

Turning to the grazed LaBelle

ya hurt? Good. Pain is natures way of saying learn to fight harder

Guess it was time to really make their presence felt in the hive.

Vizzi

2012-10-25, 07:49 PM

As they stand inside their base, today being one of the day's where Jack was at his worse, and everyone was slightly saddened, as if they knew of coming bad tidings. They heard a voice, sorrowful but steady and powerful. They all went down, and heard Old Jack sing, those that he learned in the towering heights, before reaching down the pipes.

*Advised Music File* (http://www.contemplator.com/midimusic/swordofbunker.mid)

He lay upon his dying bed;
His eyes were growing dim,
When with a feeble voice he called
His weeping son to him:
Weep not, my boy! The vet'ran said,
I bow to the God-Emperor's high will,
But quickly from yon antlers bring
The Choppa of Ork Hill.
But quickly from yon antlers bring
The Choppa of Ork Hill.

The sword was brought, the soldier's eye
Lit with a sudden flame;
And as he grasped the ancient blade,
He murmured Old Yarricks name;
Then said My boy, I leave you credits
But what is richer still,
I leave you, mark me, mark me now,
The Choppa of Ork Hill.
I leave you, mark me, mark me now,
The Choppa of Ork Hill.

Twas on that dread immortal day,
I dared the Ork's hand,
A Nob raised this blade on me
I tore it from his hand;
And while the glorious battle raged,
It lighted freedom's will
For, boy, the God-Emperor's bless'd
The Choppa of Ork Hill.
For, boy, the God-Emperor's bless'd
The Choppa of Ork Hill.

O keep the sword, his accents broke
A smile and he was dead;
His wrinkled hand still grasped the blade
Upon that dying bed.
The son is gone; the sword remains,
It's glory growing still;
And eighty millions bless the sire,
The Choppa of Ork Hill.
And eighty millions bless the sire,
The Choppa of Ork Hill.

Many tears fell and hugs abounded, even Lex eye's misted although she threatened and cajoled that it simply was the wind. As for Old Jack? He was tired, and soon they would head out, to death or not he knew not. But in his mind, slowed as it was today, he knew what too sing. A song of times long past, of the days of old.

*Advised Music File* (http://www.contemplator.com/midimusic/longago.mid)

Tell me the tales that to me were so dear,
Long, long ago, long, long ago,
Sing me the songs I delighted to hear,
Long, long ago, long ago,
Now you are come all my grief is removed,
Let me forget that so long you have roved.
Let me believe that you love as you loved,
Long, long ago, long ago.

Do you remember the paths where we met?
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
Ah, yes, you told me you'd never forget,
Long, long ago, long ago.
Then to all others, my smile you preferred,
Love, when you spoke, gave a charm to each word.
Still my heart treasures the phrases I heard,
Long, long ago, long ago.

Tho' by your kindness my fond hopes were raised,
Long, long ago, long, long ago.
You by more eloquent lips have been praised,
Long, long ago, long, long ago,
But, by long absence your truth has been tried,
Still to your accents I listen with pride,
Blessed as I was when I sat by your side.
Long, long ago, long ago.

And with that he grew silent, and his family born of hardship grew sad. But with a smile and hearty laugh by Jack, they grinned and all sang along. Preparing to depart while joyful, forgetting for a few brief moments of the forsaken world they were in. And for that sweet memory, they would always be glad.

Icedaemon

2012-10-28, 08:22 AM

Seeing the signals from Liria and Hal, Rambrand nods, makes a sharp gesture and starts heading backwards, entering the tallest building in the area. His compatriots join him soon thereafter, with Hal running into the building he originally exited from to alert the heavies.

About half an hour of navigating the maze of tunnels later, the gang is back together and on the arcing road they used to arrive in Purple Cloak territory. Three pieces of something which looked to be valuable in their hands, they saw little reason to further risk their lives in a protracted firefight.

"What did we grab?"

Rambrand had already seen the large chunk of multi-hued crystal carried by Halbert. Hearing the question, Liria and Tavin produced another one momentarily, this one predominantly yellow. Anna, however, pulled out some sort of fairly sophisticated jackhammer-like contraption, apparently with wheels.

"Pretty sure this is in working order. We might want to hold onto it if we'll ever grab hold of that turf."

"Was that the only one in there?"

"Another two or three were in the corner, but they looked very busted-up. What wasn't broken was missing on those."

Getting a move on, Rambrand continues talking. With Allis and Matt on the lookout ahead

"So, the mine's useless to the Orlocks unless they've some equipment they can drag over there. Good. Honore, Anna, take a good look at that thing. I think we'd best sell it right now, but I want us to be able to put together copies at Rita's."

"That is hardly respectful to the technology, sir."

"If we do take the place over, chances are the broken digging tools would be where Anna left them. Don't think of that as an abominable copy, think of it as restoring a machine-spirit's shell to it's former glory with the best means the Underhive has to offer."

With that, the argument and indeed conversation were over. The gang head home. Some hit the shower, others found places where to train yet again. Liria was back at the firing range, this time alongside Matt. By now, neither found hitting the targets anything remotely challenging, though Liria's still landed more consistently into the very centres of the bullseyes. Hal meanwhile. used whatever time he could spend not assisting someone else in with his crude punching bag.

Cleaned up and ready to meet Red again, Rambrand walked over to Tavin and, much to the young cousin's surprise, handed the young man his lasgun.

"Chances are I'm good enough with my sword that I don't need this any more. You've proven you're proper Van Saar after what happened to Liria. This is yours now."

Tavin, smiling broadly, apparently very nearly does not know what to say.

"Thank you chief!"

"My name's Rambrand, cousin. Now, run along to Matt and Liria. Long guns are not just bigger versions of pistols. Van Saar get the hang of things quickly, but you're still expected to understand the gun, all right?"

---

Rambrand, Allis and Lorraine met up with Red by the road, the juve for once not accompanied by at least one of her new pets. The leader was leaning on the digging tool, not a sign on it (other than, perhaps, the extra cleanness) suggesting that it had recently been taken apart and put together again. Both girls were cradling the large chunks of mineral, their petite frames making the crystals look even bigger.

"Hello Red. We've got something to sell you tonight as well, it looks like."

"It's true then. The Purples are all gone from this area."

"Left in a hurry too, looks like. You heard of the Goliaths slagging the redemotionists?"

"Your area looks to be getting less and less safe these days."

"True, true. this goes double for the roads. How lucky for you that we're here for you."

---

The trades done, an entire crate of premium-grade Wildsnake ended up in the Tunnel Foxes pantry. Even Red would not fleece a friend so much as to take the mineral chunks off their hands for less than half their worth and he felt confident he could persuade some rubes to buy them off him for nearly a hundred in the hive city proper. The pristine and indeed marvellous digging tool netted a chunky sixty credits, altogether giving the Tunnel Foxes a larger mound of credits than Red would have had on him, so trading for the drink and ammunition had to happen there and then. Other goods considered luxurious in the underhive changed hands as well - actual towels which had lost the favour of house Ulanti due to an embarrasing misprint and other such goods. The alcohol alone should ensure all future victories can be celebrated in style.

Adlan

2012-10-28, 09:08 AM

Ambushing Shadows
It takes a particular sort of scum to be a Bounty Hunter, and turn down the bounty on Scavvy Hides, but Tobin was such a man, while they could pay at least. Waste, a Scavvy very familiar with the area, lead them into the rubble of their ambush, Aggi, Luskah, Clee, Hack, Craster, Setch and Sssissaa the big scaly. Neyaganshee, Festus, Rass, Nasclinn, Vakk, and Karoul, with his pair of dogs were the other half of the ambush, ready to surround and mob the unwary Delaques.

Unfolding Shadow were at that moment, triggering the very trap set for them, on the road home. Lex and Henry found themselves in the central building, surrounded by the Hungry Cannibals as they charged towards them, neglecting their firearms in their rush to charge.

Tobin watched as the woman, Clee, stumbled up the rubble ahead of him. Her white wedding dress was almost black with muck and grime, her teeth were a jagged, dirty mess, and she was brandishing a club with a nail through it in one hand and a butchers cleaver in the other, which kind of ruined whatever effect her diseased mind had been going for. He could hear her angry scream, and the bloodthirsty yelping of those two creepy scavvy children on the other side of the building. Just above, he could hear the shouts the Delaque gang they were charging. He crested a mound of rebar, and now he could see them; two men with glasses, long leather dusters much like his own, raising their weapons to fire frantically into the scavvy horde which was rushing their position.

He saw Clee off to his side rushing towards her target, almost upon him. The Unfolding Shadow man saw her at the last second, and opened up, firing reflexively. Lasgun rounds ripped open the side of the womanís leg and she stumbled, fell to her knees on the ground just before the Lex's feet, hands stretched out before her like a penitent sinner.

But Tobin was already in position now, his long duster offering him a degree of camouflage for the first few seconds. He loooked past one man as he searched for his quarry from the description heíd been given. The guy wore a bulky flak jacket on top of his long leather coat- looked like a surplus PDF or Imperial Guard piece- and carried a massive Heavy Plasma gun. But he couldn't see his target, he didn't have time worry about that, because the only other unfolding shadow in sight was charging his own smaller version.

Henry saw Tobin sprinting towards him, and swung the big weapon around. Tobin raised his bolt pistol and fired.
Sorry, Harry. Tobin drawled as he aimed a crack shot, his cybernetic leg steadying him as his round blasted Henry down before he could use his plasma weapon. Nothing personal, you're just my target.

Unfortunately for Tobin, he hadn't hit his target and the Unfolding Shadows were not so easy to ambush. Nathan had a perfect overview of the action from his vantage point on the second storey and levelled his Lasgun like the marksman he was, pinning the bounty hunter to the scant cover provided by the rubble. Then the rest of the Unfolding Shadow moved out of their hasty counter ambush. Harry running towards his fallen comrade and setting up his heavy plasma to cover the gang, while the others kept a slower pace as they opened up with their weapons.

Mike missed, as was typical, the blast startling the charging scavvies, Winfred's lasgun was more accurate, downing Aggi. Even the new juve, Dennis, downed Luskah with a burst from his auto pistol.
Jack, head injury or no used his boltgun to good effect, pinning the big scaly Sssissaa, and gouging a bloody wound.

If Lex retreated, the Scavvies would take his comrade, so he stood his ground and met the charge, while Harry crawled out of danger. Hack, Craster and Setch crowded towards him, but in the rubble only Setch could reach, his tentacle flailing out, But despite wrapping the writing limb around the barrel of Lex's lasgun, the Unfolding Shadow was stronger and smashed the butt into the scavvies face, putting him down and bloody on the floor. Taking advantage of the lull in combat, he then retreated, clearing the way for Harry.

Clustered in a mob trying to close the ambush, Hack, Craster found themselves looking down the barrel of Harry's heavy plasma gun, A lower power blast was all the was needed, as Hack went out of action in the bright blast, with Craster downed in the splash which covered him in burning shards of a star.

With that to clear the distance, and Henry carried by his comrades, the Unfolding Shadows had escaped any ambush.

Papa Doc

2012-10-29, 04:16 AM

"Damn them all. Round table this evening. Everyone knows what they have to do. Big news. Ears to the ground." Corbin toyed at his sword belt for a moment before looking back at the bruised gang. "Did you miss that? Get. Moving. Now."

Everyone scattered without a further word. Corbin stopped Dakar and handed him a short message, which the Jester then read and set alight. "It shall be done." The man with the shotgun whirled and disappeared into the streets like a dog on a scent. Corbin pulled a flask from his pocket and swaggered down the street to begin the propaganda campaign.

* * *

Posters had been posted, transactions acted, and fears assuaged, and by the end of it most of the residents of Hope were telling tales of how Skrugg went down in a hail of gunfire during an ambush by the Van Saar, and how with his dying breath he had set off a grenade and taken three men with him. Not a word was said of his sole scream and disappearrance, nor of the real circumstance of the battle and its outcome. The gang's leaders met in the war room in the back of The Slagpit, the local Orlock bar.

"Dakar, what's the word on the streets?"

"New gangs are already in the thickest of the pudding. Street wars. Cawdor gang got hurt pretty bad. The gangs know about Skrugg, still nothing about zombies or enforcers. Some of the birds have stopped chirping. Possibly cats in the neighborhood."

"Right." Corbin took a moment to digest the somewhat cryptic message, then moved onward. "Harken. Earnings and incomes."

Harken pulled a ragged fold of paper from his jacket and squinted at it under the light. "Income's down with two of the guilders. We came in light on the loot. Worse yet, now we're a man short to run everything."

Lark cut in quickly. "Recruitment is down. Proaganda is out there, but we're losing our foothold. Some of the outlying workers are looking at taking up with some of the other gangs. We need a big win this time."

Corbin leaned heavily against the table. "I have a plan. It'll require everyone to be on their toes, and I want our guilder contacts in here ASAP. They'll love this one, or they'll learn to love it. Piper, go take a rest. We'll need you in fine shape for this one."

Adlan

2012-10-30, 11:28 AM

http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/Round5.jpg

Just Waiting for Unfolding Shadow I think, then Round 5 is done.

Vizzi

2012-10-31, 11:01 PM

"Gah, my head." Jack says as he rises from his position on the ground, his body shifting the pile of bottles that surrounds him, from a night of partying due to their astounding ambush.

One one side he sees Lex cuddling with Nathan, his eyes wide open and looking a mixture of terrified and pleading for help, not going to touch that situation at all, Jack thinks to himself. Towards the back Harry and Henry discussing, in hushed tones, some obscure information on their prized guns.

Mike standing guard near the door, and as he walked towards him something fell on Jack's head, with a weary sigh he looked up. And there amusingly enough was Dennis their new recruit, tied up in the ceiling as Winfred poked him with a stick.

Better to ignore it, and hope it goes away he thinks as he approaches Mike "So anything new?" he says as he looks outside "Nothing much boss, just the latest Gazzete" he leans conspiratorial "And i think it has something about us." with that he gives for Jacks perusal.

And as he started reading the front page he started laughing, very loudly to the horror of Nathan.

Adlan

2012-11-01, 06:11 AM

Round 6: Campaign Event
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/newspaper-4.jpg

sean_hyer

2012-11-01, 09:33 AM

The Ratskin Scout walked back into the Goliath settlement trailing a pair of scummers. Bryan met them near the entrance of the settlement, and led them a short way into the underhive, checking to be sure they weren't followed.
"Curious Rice is back, yes! Back with information! Back with news!"
"Yeah. Let's hear it, then." The big man holds up a hand. "But first, 'oo the hell are these guys."
"You's the guy what's after the caravans, huh? We want in."
Bryan flushed an angry red, and glowered at the newcomers. "'Ow d'you know that. Who told ya?"
"We was followin' the caravan, but it's got too many guards. An' then we collared this guy", jerking a thumb at the Ratskin, "also followin' em."
"An' why should I bring you along?"
"Wouldn't want us to accidentally let slip what yer after, now would you?"
The scummer chuckled at the rage on Bryan's face. "Besides, look. We'll give you a demonstration." He gestured to the pistol on Bryan's belt. "Can you use that?"
"I consider mysel' a fair shot."
"Show me." Bryan raised the pistol, sighted briefly, then put a round straight through a nearby can. "Not, bad. But..."
At a gesture from the speaker, the silent member of the pair spun to face the can, yanking both his pistols from their holsters. The can shuddered back, four more holes punched through it. Bryan whistled. "Okay, e's in. An' you?"
"I may not look like much, but I'm the fastest draw in the hive." Faster than the eye could follow, his hand snaked down to his belt. Bryan stiffened as he felt the muzzle of a pistol press against his head.
"Convinced?" hissed the scummer; then, as quickly as it had appeared, the pistol was gone again.
Bryan let out a shuddering breath. "Okay. Yer in." He turned back to the Ratskin. "Now, let's hear that news..."

thegunslinger

2012-11-01, 06:39 PM

'G..G..Guilders' sounded out the juve, his finger following the rough word on the sign. 'Help...w.walted? Warped? Ah! Wanted!' Puritanius turned his bulk to Jebediah with a smile 'Help Wanted! - ah then Jeb, maybe tha's something fer us then?'

Jebediah looked at the juve. He was jealous of the other's ability to read so easily. Jumped up little schtuck had been following Elizah and that other nervy little punk Gabriel around and had picked up a few letters here and there. He was getting sick of the fat juve showing off, but in this case at least he was useful.

'Mebbe. We'll let Eli know. Mayaps decent payment for guard work - a'lthough we need to avenge 'mash and the others before others start getting ideas.'

The two gangers walked back to the chapel, looking for their leader.

***

'25 credits each, Guilder. Our gangers are experienced' growled Elzah, narrowing his eyes behind his mask.
'18, preacher. Your 'experience' didn't stop the Goliaths from getting the jump on you - how do we know you can keep us out of harm's way'
'Muscle bound traitors and a lucky shot doesn't prove a damn thing. We're good for this and you know it.'
The Guilder begrudgingly nodded. Tamela's Tigers were also onboard and his own mid-hive caravan guards were as well, but rumours were already spreading that the Ironmen and others had caught wind of the caravan coming through. They could use the help.
'20 then, any more and I'm losing cash on this.'
'20 it is. That and we get to look over the caravans before we move on. We'll not trust ourselves to any one else's preparations'.

The Guilder signed the payment-chit and a fixed his seal. The document disappeared into Elizah's robes as the gang leader left the office.

***

'Caravan guards? What? We should be out, earning our vengeance!' shouted Death to Xenos. A swift clip over the ear from Obidiah shut the young ganger up.
'Yoar a ganger now and you can speak in our presence, but that don't mean you don't mind your manners, squint' grumbled Obidiah.
Elizah narrowed his eyes at the new ganger as well, but didn't bother to address him.
'We will earn well from this trip, all things considered. It's almost certain we'll be attacked on the route, so go over the 'vans again and make certain they're armoured and sandbagged. I don't want stray shots getting through. You're all savvy on what to do and I'm going to tell their mob as well.

Keep it tight, recite your litanies and we'll push through this.

And Xenos - we'll have our vengeance, that I promise'

Icedaemon

2012-11-04, 02:59 PM

Once again, Red's halftrack makes it safely to Rustholm. The day was not completely uneventful, with a pair of scavvies seemingly unrelated to the currently dominant scavvy gang trying to waylay the vehicle. One was wounded and taken out by lasblasts from Allis and Rambrand. The other had decided to try out the merits of melee attacks towards vehicles and ended up discovering the merits of a reinforced prow slamming into a human(-ish) body at roughly sixty KPH, as well as getting a rough estimate of the halftrack's weight as the tracks went over what was left of him.

"Inbred idiots..."

-----

Reaching the settlement, a group of juvey-looking folk seemed to approach the halftrack, but were smart enough to note the prominent autocannon on top of it and the Van Saar lass lounging nearby, pointing a lasgun in their vague direction.

"You're really loaded down with goods this time around."

I trust you know about the guilder caravan running through here in less than a week. They're taking much the same trail to the lifts which I tend to. People are getting ready already. I go through with enough merchandise now, I could turn a nice proft from people who've their savings out. I go through after the caravan has gone, chances are people have spent most of their creds.

"You don't sound too happy about them."

Any competition is bad for business, but I'd rather not turn on my fellow guilder. That has a tendency of getting on the bad side of the bigger bosses.

"Haven't you claimed time and again to be subservient to none but Him on Terra?"

Aye, but I'm still a small fish compared to the guilders who run entire crawler convoys from hive to hive. You think you Underhivers are tough? The guards of those caravans are often kitted out with gear that makes Morgan's setup look basic and experience fighting everything from nomads to chaos-spawned monsters.

"That's just talk. Chaos hasn't a foothold on Necromunda. The Caws are crazy luddite bastards, but at least they home in on anyone who looks anything like a cultist or mutant with all the ferocity of a mama Raft Spider on 'slaught."

Ha. You sound like you're going soft on Cawdor.

To this, Rambrand shrugs noncommittally.

"I can tell they've a use. Some of the other houses, I'm not so sure about."

---

Red's deals within Rustholm done and him once again a fair bit richer, he hands Rambrand fifty credits for the services, money which the Van Saar went on to largely spend on a week's supply of the best foodstuffs one can get in the Underhive, for once. Deciding to hedge his bets should he be wrong in his 'The Emperor cares not for the underhive' theory, he even made a small donation at the chapel.

---

During dinner back at the hideout, he approached the rest of his gang.

"I had a little chat with a most interesting individual. Seems there are plans out there already to hit some of the caravans. This, men and women of House Van Saar, gives us yet anther opportunity to make a laughingstock of one of our would-be rivals."

"You've pulled real meat that does not taste like rat or human out of somewhere. If you also pulled out a good tip, we might be in for even more treats."

As Rambrand prepares to go into detail on his latest plan, Halbert whispers to Lorraine.

"Do you think Anna really knows what human tastes like?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

Adlan

2012-11-07, 04:25 PM

The Caravan

A Big Guilder Caravan is a sight to see, the traction teams hauling carts that grind old hab domes back to dust, disciplined squads of guilders armed retainers and the small one that will pass through Rustholm is still impressive, two traction engines each hauling three flatbed trucks filled with crates and cargo bales. A half dozen permanent guards, armed with flashy autoguns and a motley collection of spears and other pole arms are supplemented by the hired gangs, who can ride atop the load at times, though they are expected to have guides and scouts and patrol the vulnerable fringes, making sure the caravan isn't surprised.

Their Route takes them through a few possible vulnerable locations, but despite the risk, the Three Giants Bridge over Sump Chasm and the Beggar Spit cliff are the only roads that can take the caravans weight.

thegunslinger

2012-11-07, 07:07 PM

Deacon walked the length of the caravans. The flat bed trucks and other assorted trailers were full of assorted goods and knicknacks that the Guilders were preparing to sell. He afixed purity seals and stapled hymnals to the side of the truck, looking to obtain a small measure of blessing from the Emperor on this trip.

The Guilder guards seemed to be good men, who knew their trade and had the hooded eyes and scars to prove that they weren't novices at this. Some were wearing goggles and were clearly the drivers of the caravan, others were busy helping to tie down and secure the load.

Walking further around the side, Deacon saw the young gangers from Motown, Tamla's Tigers, gathered around. Raising a hand in a gesture of peace, he approached the women cautiously. They were both erstwhile allies for the caravan's journey, but he knew that House Escher had no real love for House Cawdor and it was foolish to not afford them a measure of respect.

'Well met, Tigers. I trust that your preparations are going as planned? Blessings of the Emperor be upon you, sisters. Walk in His Sight.'

Making the sign of the Aquila, Deacon moved past the Tigers to speak with the leader of the caravan guards. A short, muscled man, the caravan guard had a flamer-tan on one side of his body and a short cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth. The guard spat as the Cawdor approached him. Deacon made an educated guess that the flamer tan was from one of his fellows. Still, needs must. The caravan was only going to get through if they worked together.

'Well met..uh..caravan guardsman. I am Deacon, of the Holy Flame. My leader sent me to speak with you about the up coming convoy. Shall we find somewhere to talk, Mr...?

'Stone. Me name's stone.' Grunted the guard, reluctantly taking the outstretched hand. Deacon smiled hugely at the guard, giving him the same grin he used when annoying habwives and spreading the word of the Emperor on End Days. It almost never got them into their houses to spread the word, but it was a nice smile. He rarely had to wedge his foot in the door to stop someone slamming it on him, thanks to that smile. Stone, however, was no easily cowed habwife and Deacon knew that he was going to have to work on the man.

'Come, Mr. Stone, tell me - you seem to be a man of the world. How do you usually run things. I can tell that you're a man that has seen a lot of what the Underhive has to offer. We are not inexperienced ourselves, but I'm sure you'd be able to explain to me the usual dangers that the caravans face?

Stone gave Deacon a level stare. It was unusual that a gang asked him his opinion, but he wasn't about to start throwing himself at the Cawdor just yet. The flamer tan still itched like a bastard on humid days.

'Usually straight forward. Guilders set the route, we follow. Keep the vans together, don't stray. Bridges and curves are ambush zones, try and get through them best we can. Stick together and we get on fine'.

Deacon nodded, writing some of the information down on a small cracked dataslate...'stick together...ambush zone'. I see. Well, we agree. Through faith is unity and unity is strength, as the good books say. We'll stay with you come what may - and you us and the vans will get through.'

Stone nodded his scarred head. 'Aye. We'll stick with you and the vans will get through.'

With that Deacon kept walking the van and checking the vehicles. He had a mass to give and other arrangements to confirm before they set off and not much time to get them done.

sean_hyer

2012-11-08, 07:18 AM

A shout from the top of a nearby rubbish heap caught the caravan's attention as they prepared for departure. Professional guards and hired gangers alike readied weapons, but no ambush appeared - the figure appeared to be alone.

"I bear a message," bellowed Bryan, "to the members of the Holy Flame gathered here today!"

The guards mostly relaxed, lowering their autoguns, while the gangers perked up, interested.

"Today, I'm gonna give y'all a choice. It's always fun lettin' people choose their own doom. I'll also throw in some info'."

The unmistakable silhouette of the Goliath's leader chuckled cruelly, and thrust an arm out in the direction of the Cawdor's settlement.

"Mah gang is waitin' for yew over by yer chapel. Ready ta start smashin' stuff. So, yew can default on yer contract, and run on back to yer church, an' meet our challenge in battle. Or yew can keep yer word, an' stand by an' watch as your chapel and settlement burn; as your people suffer."

The big man laughed, clearly finding this hilarious, and then darted for cover as a fusillade of shots from the caravan spanged off the rubble around him.

"We attack in one hour. Make yer choice."

With a final, mocking laugh, the figure faded back into the shadows of the underhive.

thegunslinger

2012-11-09, 05:34 AM

Elizah laughed at the gang leader, posturing and capering.

'Attack the chapel, Goliaths. Massacre the people. Burn the chapel to the ground and throw the Emperors image into the dirt. Burn the pews and throw the holy writs into the wind.'

'Vox et nihil, you fat freak - you're a voice and nothing more. We'll see you on the route of the caravans or we'll see you in hell. You'll dictate nothing to us.'

With that Elizah smiled at the caravan guards and nodded at the gang members.

'The caravan proceeds as agreed, gentlemen. Carry on.'

sean_hyer

2012-11-09, 07:00 AM

The hidden voice takes on a tone of grudging respect.

"You've got guts, preacher man, I'll give yew that, callin' my bluff here. I's no holy man, but I wouldn'a burn a church."

"Be seein' you on the route, then. Horus take the hindmost!"

With that last line, the voice fades away, as the Goliath retreats to gather his men.

Adlan

2012-11-09, 07:31 AM

Three Giants Bridge
http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b361/Adlan/FinalCaravanRaidMap.jpg

The road, black ash and reclaimed tar, maintained by guilders with their arcane white paint markings down the centre, is much better near the bridge over Sump Chasm than elsewhere in the hive, it must be, only the rocky hardened refuse here allows a path through the otherwise swampy land near the edge of the Sump. The road crosses the chasm several times, but at Three Giants bridge, named after the peaks of pebble and refuse conglomerate that tower in the chasm it is surrounded by enough cover to make an ambush practical.

thegunslinger

2012-11-09, 04:04 PM

The caravan drivers gunned their engines, the heavy diesel engines coughing and wheezing exhaust fumes into the air. The caravan drivers pulled down their goggles and prepared to move out.

The guards of the vans hopped into their usual and well-worn positions, already starting to scan the horizons for potential threats.

Elizah noticed with satisfaction the Holy Flame were mounted up already in the first few caravans. The Cawdor gangers made them selves comfortable for what was going to be a long ride.

Grailkeeper

2012-11-12, 01:52 PM

Tamla listened quietly whilst the strange looking man in the mask explained his plan. Never mind how odd the god botherers looked their plans made tactical sense.

************************************************** **

Tamla stood over the juves. You wanna make it in the Tigers? Stick with what your told. Go to the place I told you to go, keep any eye out for the guilders, if anyone comes- make as big a noise and let us know where they're coming from. If you can take as many down as possible.

************************************************** **

The tigers mounted up with the guilders. Things were likely to get hairy, but the plan made sense. Time to make a quick buck, preferable at somebody else's expense.

sean_hyer

2012-11-14, 06:49 PM

Bryan arrived back at his gang where they waited outside the Holy Flame settlement.
"Saddle up, boys, we're goin' on a Cawdor hunt!"
The Goliaths formed up behind him as he jogged off down the road.
"But boss, why ain't we trashin' their settlement like we was goin' to?"
"It sets a dangerous pre-ce-dent," said Bryan, in the tone of someone who had had this explained to them. "Besides, that'd leave the Ironmen and Shadows in the lurch."
"But..."
"Less talkin', more runnin'. We've got us a caravan ta catch!"

thegunslinger

2012-11-20, 04:39 PM

Elizah pulled out his chronometer from his robe and looked at it. They sure had been riding on this caravan for a long time. His arse was starting to get sore from sitting about waiting for something to happen...

Adlan

2012-11-21, 07:12 AM

The Raid at Three Giant Bridge

The Guilders were in no hurry, their traction engines hauled a vast amount of weight, and even their blessed and oiled engines could not go much faster than walking pace. The Journey passed without much event...

...Untill they reached Three Giant Bridge.

The caravans swayed as they crossed the ancient, off repaired bridge. Their large size meant that they didn't bounce around too much, but they still swayed back and forth. The Holy Flame and their paid-allies, Tamla's Tigers, kept their eyes on the horizon. The caravan guards sat near them, also watching for nearby threats.

In the rear caravan, Elizah sat by his two heavies. Both of them were keen for some action and both could smell in the air that something was up and something was going to happen. Elizah had briefed the pair of them that something was going to happen along the route and that it was very likely that they were going to see some action.

All of the Holy Flame fervently wished that it would be the Basha's that made the attack - if not, then a whole lot of creds were about to go to waste. The intel that they had paid for was good so far, but no one was gullible enough to believe that it would be foolproof.

Elizah grinned at his heavies. Both of knew what the flare gun at his side was for and grinned back at him. Someone was about to get a hell of a surprise.

But he was in for a small one himself, when the first noise of battle was gunfire in the distance, from the other side of the bridge. Apparently the Tunnel Foxes had commenced their ambush of the Unfolding Shadow.

Previously
"So lad, i hear you gave some interesting information after a round of heavy drinking." Jack says as he smiles warmly to the terrified and tied up guilder guard.

"No! I didn't mean anything! Just talking out of my ass." he whimpers slightly in fear as Jacks warm smile disappears and his face turns to polite disinterest "Now Johnny-boy we cant have you lying to my face, that's just impolite." with a slight nod, a heavy pipe comes crashing into his knee, not breaking it yet but enough that his scream of pain was more than real enough "Please! I dint mean anything by what i said! I have family!"his pleading failing on deaf ears as Jack simply turned to a table and grabbed a book, flipping a few pages to reach the correct one and saying "Now, if you had a family i doubt you would spend so much money here, from what i see you acquired quite a debt last night." his face looks up a very amused smile on it as he continues "And the house always wins. And the house knows exactly what she needs to pay your debt."

Several hours of intense screaming and much pain another body joins the ditches near the settlement, another victim of the cruel realities of their place.

But near the den of inequity, the central home of the Unfolding Shadow a different discussion occurs. "So Lex, did you get everything we needed?" he says as he leans back watching the bustling movement of the settlement. "Nothing much boss, just the path they will take, a general clue of whom the guilders will be contacting for protection and when exactly they will head out. He didn't know much." her voice slightly rough and hands still wet and sticky with blood. "He knew enough, lets send some feelers to some of the new gangs, and see exactly who bites." he said as his eyes followed a gang of dwarves practising their acrobatic skills for credits. "Can we trust them?" he turns back towards her, his faced as if carved in stone and his mind screaming as another one the moments where his most worthwhile skill, his intelligence disappears "No, we cant.".

Far off in the underhive, early on the day of the raid Bryan's Bashers jogged through the gloom, listening to their leader. Despite the pace he was setting, he seemed to be having no trouble talking.

"We took those crazy fanatics down hard last time. Stick ta the plan, an' we's gonna do it again! But remember, those flamers will make a right mess if they get close, so take 'em out."

"An' one more thing. When you'se shootin' up the Flame, don' shoot Elizah. He's mine this time."

Bryan patted the new chainsword hanging on his hip, and grinned.

"*Pant* but boss, he's *pant* dangerousest up close. *Pant* shouldn't we kill 'im *pant* before 'e reaches us?"

"Ah heard it said once that the measure of a man is in his enemies. Elizah has named me his foe, an' such a man I am proud to call enemy. He deserves better 'n a gut full a lead."

"If you say so, Boss. *Pant* your funeral."

Bare muscles gleaming with sweat, the Goliaths arrived behind the caravan. Slowing to match its pace a fair way behind it, they readied their weapons while Bryan cupped a pair of massive hands to his mouth and bellowed a challenge.

"ELIZAH! We're here ta fight. Now, you might try ta play chicken agin, so here's some encouragement. If we don' see you an' your men comin' at us in a few seconds, we're gonna start shootin' grenades inta those caravans."

The Ironmen had joined the Bashers in their attack on the rear of the Caravan, sticking to the cover, rather than daring the road as the Bashers did.

Corbin saw the dust rising as the caravan approached, and was struck by the genius of Deacon Cawdor. He may have hated the bloody Cawdor right to his core, and this might have been the greatest example why. They were devious, conniving, but they were genius when it came to planning.

The tough part had been convincing his guilder contacts. Marley, Erstwyld, and Hamish were hardly upstanding men of the law, but the rules stood. To be seen attacking a guilder, his property, or the men of his direct employ was to be declared an outlaw, and no guilder would want to be seen having dealing with outlaws. It was unseemly.

It had taken several bottles of liquor and mix of cajoling and some understated threats to do it, but they finally understood how the operation would work in their favor. In the end, it was Hamish who was the first to bless the plan fully, and the others caved to his fierce arguments.

Then there had been the tricky matter of planning it all, running between the proper agents, avoiding detection, and convincing the right people to pitch in. Dakar did his part, skulking around like some kind of shotgun-toting shadow. Lark and Harken managed to persuade several people without any gunplay, though there were reports that one of the merchants may have earned a broken finger for his insolence. Still, this was in the people's best interests, and a few eggs might have to be broken.

Now there was the final phase, covering the Goliaths on their approach. The caravans were almost upon them. Corbin watched as his lieutenants moved through the ranks, doing last-second gear checks and offering words of encouragement. Suddenly a red flare went up from the caravans.

"That's it!" roared Corbin, who was too focused on the ambush to figure if the Basher's envoy had been gunned down in his boots or not. "SURPRISE YOU BIG SMELLY APES!"

Bryan was at that moment, still shouting at extreme range,turning to face his gang, raising his fists over his head.

"Goliaths! What do we do best?"

With a crashing roar, the gang replied.

"BASH 'EM!"

Then Battle was Joined.

thegunslinger

2012-11-21, 03:37 PM

Previously, in a dark corner of the Underhive.

'So you understand the plan?' asked the hooded figure, for the 6th time.
Spike sighed heavily to himself and bit his lip to stop himself from replying. Or shooting the damn Cawdor. Sure, they were 'unaffiliated', but they weren't stupid. At least, he wasn't stupid.

'Yar, we geddit' said Jet. 'S'not 'ard. We get them Goliaths to take us in. G' wid 'em to the caravan. Find the heavy. Shoot the heavy.'

Deacon smiled. It had taken a while, but finally the scummers had grasped the concept that while they were being paid BY House Cawdor, they weren't to stand NEAR House Cawdor.

Deacon's brilliant smile flickered very slightly as he regarded the badskin crouched in the shadows. The dirt worshipper was fiddling with a parchment and trying to affix it to his long filthy cloak. A purity seal, written and sanctified by Elizah himself.

'and you, my ratty chum? You understand what we want, yes?'

Curious Rice didn't look up from his work.

'Yes.' was his reply. Typical bloody ratty, thought Deacon. Laconic and taciturn to a fault.

'Can you tell me what's going to happen, then?'

'It is as the Hive wills. As Him on Earth wills. We attack the Goliaths. We stop the ambush. We let the caravans through. We guide the Tigers'.

Deacon nodded. So far, so good.

thegunslinger

2012-11-21, 03:58 PM

The two scummers could see the caravan rumbling along in the distance. They'd kept up with the Basha's, making sure to keep the heavies in site. The large leader told them to head off to the rear of the caravan and attack with the Ironmen.

They nodded at him when he gave them their instructions, then ignored them. Staying out of site, they crept out of site, but they were still close enough to act when the red flare arced out of the rear caravan.

Seeing it burst into the sky, the two scummers turned and took aim at the heavies trying to lay an ambush, firing shot after shot at their backs.

***

Curious Rice picked through the rubble. He sighed inwardly at the three juves who accompanied him, as they blundered through every broken bottle, crunched every piece of paper and kicked every rock possible. How these Underhivers survived out here was a mystery to him. Proof that the Great Spirits looked after fools and young braves, no doubt.

He pointed towards the other gang with his club. 'Goliaths. There.'

Without another word, he charged into the gangers, smacking the first one he came to with his club.

thegunslinger

2012-11-21, 04:39 PM

As the caravan rumbled along, there was a muffled shout in the distance from a large ganger. Over the roar of the caravan and the man's distance, Stone thought he heard something about grenades. Looking at Elizah he said 'did you hear that? Who are they? Are they going to start shooting at the caravans?'

Elizah turned, a concerned expression on his face 'Those benighted scum are Bryan's Bashas, of House Goliath. I heard that as well - they're going to start shooting up the caravan!'

Stone nodded grimly and tugged on a hanging alarm-rope. Klaxons blaring, he took up his post at the pintel-mount and shot at the Goliath leader standing in the road.

The other caravan guards followed suit, opening up at the Goliaths.

Stone bellowed into his speaking-tube 'Ambush! Ambush!' and with that, the ponderous caravans kicked into higher gear. The caravans began to turn into the direction of the attack with a crunching of gears.

Elizah and the heavies ducked below the parapet, getting closer and closer to the Bashas.

sean_hyer

2012-11-21, 07:42 PM

Facing his gang as he was, Bryan saw his hired guns walk out from the shadows, saw them firing into his heavies unprotected backs. That was not part of the plan. You could almost see the wheels in his head turning, as his face contorted with rage.

A few of his gangers were already turning at the sound of the gunshots, as Curious Rice charged from the shadows with a few young men at his back.

"TRAITORS! VILE SCUMSUCKERS!"
Bryan is frothing at the mouth and practically incoherent with rage.
"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS! BASHERS! KILL THEM!"

In a rush of confusion, the surprised gang turns on its new attackers.

Papa Doc

2012-11-21, 10:10 PM

Previously:

A scared looking young juve approaches the Ironmen's compound, waving a white flag.

'Ironmen! My lord wishes a moment of your time to discuss under parlay an opportunity for us both in the incoming caravan.

My lord would like to discuss terms with you in negotiating the caravan's route through the underhive - we anticipate that the pernicious and hated Goliaths will attack our convoy.

We would like to offer a bounty to you and yours if you will seek to..disrupt...their activities.

A further bounty will be issued for information on their plans and activities.

Honoured Ironmen - if this is to your liking, please let this humble messenger know.'

"Stand the hell down, Grimm." The heavy stepped out from his shadow and lowered his weapon. Corbin stepped out and offered an open hand to the juve. "We have friends who don't want this caravan making it through, but Ironmen work for the people, not the merchants. Expect the Jester and one of my juves to drop off the information and attack plans later. We'll settle up afterwards. I hate Goliaths as much as I hate Cawdor, but at least you can speak civil to a Cawdor and not gag on the smell. Send your boss my regards."

Then the real legwork began. Threats, cajoling, chicanery, and making sure the Jester gathered and disseminated the correct information without getting himself or anyone else killed. Then the normal ammo runs, planning sessions, bribes, and working with the damned guilders to make them see how swatting down a couple of upstart gangs would make their caravans more secure. Corbin had a feeling it might be a long fight.

Out overlooking the bridge, he knew it would. Too many gangers, not enough terrain for a decent retreat.

"This would have been really long and really messy," Lark commented "except for that bit of nastiness at the end."

Before Corbin could respond, the flare went up. "That's it!" He drew a bead on the nearest Goliath, not caring who or what it was, and let off a burst. "SURPRISE YA BIG SMELLY APES!" Grenades, stubbers, lasguns, and clouds of manstopper shot filled the air as the carefully planned pattern of attack turned into a killbox with the Goliaths square in the middle. Corbin had to resist laughing like a madman as he prepared to draw his sword and get in for some up close and personal bloodshed.

Adlan

2012-11-28, 08:35 AM

Slaughter at 3 Giants Bridge

The Underhive echo'ed with the sounds of betrayal, as the Basher's realised their Erstwhile allies were in the pocket of their foe. House Goliath was not one to back down in the face of superior odds, and for the moment, the Basher's plan had worked in that they were far from the flamers and pitchforks of the holy flame.

As the first shots were fired, The Scummers fell dead, Spike having managed to down Selma, but taking too much risk before he made his escape, Autogun rounds from multiple Bashers drove in his ribcage.

Jet aimed a shot at Nikolai, but failed to hit the heavy with a ball of plasma, which instead ignited a patch of detritus (or possibly fungus) lighting the area with flickering green and pink flames. He too fell, as Bryan smashes his Chainsword through the back of his head.

Cindy, Labelle and Patti followed Curious Rice's charge at the Goliaths. But they did not have the relish of Matyrdom or the seal of Redemption that working for House Cawdor could give someone, and Curious Rice's blood was infused with the blessings of the Emperor.

He fought furiously, and tried to clubb down one of the Bashers, but Aliene had nerves of steel and it was only with the help of the juves that she was finished off. No sooner had the three girls lowered their smoking auto pistols than Curious Rice was riddled with bullets. Nikolai was finally able to bring his heavy stubber into play. In the face of such firepower, Patti and Cindy broke and ran. Left alone, Labelle followed soon after, not stopping until she reached the safety of the tunnel once more.

The Basher's may have been out of range of the Holy Flame, but their former allies the Ironmen were situated in cover, at short range. When they began shooting, the devastation was almost overkill. With little cover, Alaine and Leon went down to Brimm's heavy bolter, and Grimm's stubber pinned Bryan, Kurt and Lorelei, downing Kim as he began a berserk charge at their lines.

Corbin, Kara and Lark advanced, sticking to cover. Harken lobbed one of his flash grenades as far into the opposite side of the Goliaths as he could, while the Ironmen closed their eyes and covered their ears. The smoke had yet to clear when Dakar began pumping shell after shell from his shotgun at the nearest gangers, trying to level the Goliaths. Hovarth missed, but Dakar downed Kurt.

With some true grit, Leon gets back to his feat despite the blood loss from a heavy bolter round, and Charges in with Bryan and Lorelei. Karra stood up from behind her rock, almost close enough to spit and hit one of the Bashers. She opened fire with both pistols at point-blank range and prayed that the Goliaths couldn't smell any worse dead than alive. Leon was put down again.

It wasn't her fire though, but Tamela's Tigers, who's heavies had finally gotten into gear, opening up on the Bashers. Of course, they weren't too careful with their fire, inflicting a flesh wound on Bryan and Karra. Their hose of lead creating a storm of shrapnel.

Combat was joined, Lark standing over Kara's prone form, trying to hold off Lorelei. Bryan and Corbin duelled, but neither side could gain the upper hand.

With so many of the Goliaths attacked, Elizah saw his chance. He sprinted into hand to hand combat, approaching Bryan, power claw ready to attack. A retinue of his younger gangers and juves followed him chanting, while the older, wiser heads in his flock remained guarding the wagons.

Kara joined in the battle with Lorelei, forcing the others back when Alfonse and Stephan exchanged snapshots with the Ironmen's sharpshooters, isolated and alone in cover. Slowly, their firing was slowing.

Bryan continued to duel with Corbin, winning the conflict, but missing the extra impact his old sword used to give him, can't fully utilise the victory, missing a chance as corbin recovers on his back foot and keeps the fighting going, circling each other in the dirt.

But it didn't last long, Elizah charged in, Parrying the swings of the opposing gang leaders, Elizah landed several solid blows on to Bryan. As Bryan slumped into unconsciousness, he heard a voice whisper 'if you wanted a fair fight.... you should've fought a nun' before a ringing blow knocked him witless.

With the collapse of their leader, Lorelei falling to the floor with Lark's sword neatly showing the advantage of point over edge, the rest of the Basher's dissolved into the underhive, fleeing the battle.

Adlan

2012-11-28, 01:34 PM

To Waylay a Shadow

The Hirelings promised by the Bashers had apparently found some excuse to stick with the main attack, and the members of Unfolding shadow were feeling increasingly uneasy at their position... out on a limb as it were.

Dennis, Mike and Winfred. Were the advance party, followed by the main groupof Harry, Jack, Henry, Lex and Nathan. The heavy plasma gun was going to essential to stopping the Caravan.

But as they approached the road, the Caravan coming into sight the other side of the bridge, they were ambushed.

A Lone Juve stood in their path, at the bottom of three giants. And suddenly, from behind every bolder poked a Van Saar Face. The Tunnel Foxes attacked.

Halbert, past caring for anything more than proving once and for all that he has what it takes to be a true underhive ganger, grits his teeth, leans out from behind his bolder and tries to land at least one or two good hits on the Delaque gang, trusting in his toughness and determination to suppress the pain of whatever hits he might take. His practice with the las pistol has paid off despite Winfreds attempt at a dodge, downing the more experiance underhiver.

Dennis and Mike return fire, once again, a lack of depth perception sending Mike's shot wild. The little juve is already a Crack shot though, and Halbert's hand wound loses him so much blood that he goes down. Another convincing argument for those who prefer the noisy auto weapons.

Honore De Vries was the closest to the downed juve, but too far to render direct aid. Instead, she aided him with plasma fire, pinning the advance party of the Unfolding Shadow.

A Red Flare lite the Sky across the Bridge from their battle. It was noticed, but the reaction was minor.

Liria, Allis and Tavin opened up with their lasgun's, downing Lex with concentrated fire that first pinned him, then burned. Anna's Heavy bolter added it's voice to the mayhem, but the heavy cover the central Delaques had taken at the edge of the road saved them from the shells.

Henry's plasma gun, peeping out from behind his own roadside cairn, belched the heart of a star into the underhive, bubbling it's way through a boulder and downing Anna. Seeing this, the other gangers shifted target, but only Nathan was accurate, downing Tavin who at least is in a position to treat his own wound.

Allis runs to Tavin's aid, but the key action occurs at the edge of the ravine. Stumbling out of the dusty exit pipe, Rambrand, Lorraine and Matt arrive on the flank of Unfolding shadow.

The juve, still in some ways the same girl who joined the Tunnel Foxes only a little more than a month ago albeit with a newfound confidence among other things, swings her arm, dislodging the bat hanging from it to join the two others flying nearby.

"Fly, my pretties! Rip their stupid pasty faces off!"

Indeed, the bats seem to understand these orders, gleefully making their way to the nearest Shadow still standing, their fluttering forms difficult targets that dodge the fire from Unfolding shadow, and screeching ultrasonicly when they dived on Jack and Henry.

Their attack was beaten off, but the distraction allows for Rambrand and Matt to take advantage of their position, downing Dennis and Mike, who are exposed from this vantage point.

With the Sounds of battle from across the bridge, and no aid from their allies looking imminent, the Unfolding Shadow decide to cut their losses and run.

thegunslinger

2012-11-28, 04:47 PM

The caravan rumbled in to its final stop. Elizah and the rest of his gang were sitting along the line of caravans, looking dusty but otherwise pleased with how the guard duty had gone. The Goliaths were down for the count, Elizah personally delivering the blow to Bryan that put him down. The hired guns had turned traitor and had done a masterful job at distracting the Bashers long enough for the Ironmen to put the rest of them down and out. The Tunnel Foxes had stopped the Delaque from even troubling the caravan.

Elizah nodded to the Guilder who owned the caravans and smiled at the nod he received. The credit note in his robes would be paid in full.

***

Aquila approached the Ironmen's camp, flying a flag of truce. Making sure he was seen by the sentries, he pushed a small chest towards the gate. 'Our payment for your services, Ironmen. As agreed.' Making a small bow, he retreated back into the gloom.

***

Char edged closer to the Tunnel Foxes' lair. Hailing the gate, he made sure that the guards saw that he was carrying a small chest. Placing it on the ground, he then turned and walked back into the darkness.

***

Helebore chased the last piece of gruel around his plate. Mopping up the very smallest bit with a morsel of starchsynth, he frowned. 'Can't believe we're giving away cash to Orlocks and Van Saars while we sit and starve. It's not right.'

Some of the other juves and gangers looked up from their food. It was hard to tell if they agreed or not. It was clear that at least some of them also thought the same thing and were ready to join in when a voice boomed out from the end of the hall.

'You've eaten two meals today, youngling. Not only have you dined on the Emperor's bounty and filled your belly - but we of the Holy Flame have also dined on vengeance this day! Rejoice and be glad in that!'

Suitably chastened, Helebore nodded his agreement. The rest of the gang smiled and agreed. Truly, they had eaten their fill.

sean_hyer

2012-12-10, 09:18 PM

Elizah arrived at the precinct house, where the newly arrived enforcer squad had summoned him. As he approached the door, a faceless figure in full armor stepped in front of him, barring his way.

"Your weapons stay here."

Elizah smiled and nodded politely at the figure.

"Yes, my son. This may take a while."

Unbolting his power fist, Elizah disconnected the hydraulic loop coupling and power drive, wincing as the memetic mind link was disconnected from the back of his skull. With a grunt, he pulled his arm free of the weapon and placed it in the receptacle in front of him. He then lay his chainsword and stub pistol neatly next to them and submitted to a waving of a magno-wand over him to confirm that he was unarmed, before entering the building and making his way to the sergeant's office.

The sergeant was sitting at his desk, quill scratching, as Elizah walked in. He quickly scanned the room, noticing the shrine in the corner. With an approving nod at the apparent piety, he made the sign of the aquila in its direction. As he approached the desk, without looking up, the sergeant spoke.

"Ah, you must be Elizah. Have a seat."

Pushing the form to one side, he pulled a different paper over to him and studied it.

"I see here that you defended a guilder caravan, anticipated and prevented a raid on said caravan, and destroyed the gang which attempted it."

As he read, he nodded slowly, eyes scrolling down the page.

"For that, you should be commended. But now that we are here, I trust you will remember that the Enforcers, not the Ecclesiarchy, are the law in this hive. In future, you will report any such situations to us, and we will take appropriate action."

The sergeant's gaze finally left the papers in front of him, hard black eyes locking on icy blue.

"There is a word for taking the law into your own hands. It is vigilantism, it is a crime, and it will not be tolerated in my jurisdiction."

With a sharp nod, he drew the form back over to himself and resumed writing.

"Dismissed."

Elizah stood to leave. Before he exited the office, he turned to the sergeant.

"With respect, sergeant, we have not seen the might of Imperial law in the underhive in some time. It is the duty of all Imperial citizens to assist the authorities where they can. The Holy Flame are a force for order. When needed, we will assist with the Watch and, once duly sanctioned, punish the heretic. Ave Imperator!"

With that, he swept out of the room.

Papa Doc

2012-12-11, 02:55 AM

“T’aint nuthin’ like I’d thought it would be” Piper mused, “bein’ one of ol’ Slagburn’s. On the outside, its all honor and glory, fightin’ for the name of House Orlock and the good of the people.”

“We ain’t a band of Hooded Robbyns’ or the like. This ain’t some fairytale your mum told you about while you nursed and cried. This is real life, poppet, and in real life you have to get your hands dirty. You being the lowest juve on the roster of juvitude and bein’ the only one dumb enough to get knocked stupid in your first scrap with the Van Saar, you get to do the real fun dirty work. Now shaddup and hoist that box before I make you put on a dress and serve lemonade to the ladies.”

Piper heaved the box of scrap up, feeling a hair lightheaded as he did. “Well that’s a good question. How come you’re in here hollerin’ at me while I move boxes and sort scrap metal, while Lark and Karra are out doing patching old buildings?”

“Well for one thing, you look a whole hell of a lot uglier stripped to your underclothes than either of our ladies. Skinny runt like you would hinder our goodwill mission as soon as you stripped in the heat.” Corbin stepped out from behind a stack of boxes, looking as though he’d found a part he was looking for. “I’ll handle it from here, Brimm. Tend to your brother, he seems a bit melancholy.”

Piper nearly tripped over his own feet crate in surprise when Corbin grabbed the box with one hand and gently lowered it to the ground. “Pull up a crate, story time with daddy.” The juve paled visibly, but obediently grabbed a smaller crate and sat down opposite his leader. Corbin pawed at the bits of twisted metal until he pulled out an almost perfect orb, marred barely by a wave pattern on the surface, but still symmetrical sphere. He rolled the ball around in his hand for a minute before tossing it to the juve.

“That’s an Orlock tear. They’re extremely rare, formed under very special conditions when a pocket of heat forms in the slag insulated by another layer of cooled metal. Most slag miners never find one, and many never see one at all. I’ve always had a knack for finding them.” He let Piper finger the orb in silence before continuing. “The story goes that the first one was found the same day the Van Saar stole the Orlock contract, that they were tears shed for the treachery by the iron itself.

“Ironmen are just like those tears. We’ve seen the treachery, the conditions down here. We’ve grown up with the despair, the lies, the anguish, and the iron has seen it too. Now it weeps, and we are those tears. It takes a very rare set of circumstances to forge a group like us. Most underhivers will never meet a true hero, but like the tears I have a knack for finding those with the skills and the drive to be Ironmen. You’re one of us, and now I need you to do something dangerous. Are you ready?”

Piper nodded and started to hand back the tear, but Corbin closed the juve’s fist over the orb. “For good luck. Dakkar will tell you what needs to be done

Icedaemon

2012-12-15, 01:57 PM

Their flank attack having broken the Unfolding Shadow's nerve, Rambrand and the pair of Van Saar alongside him let loose a cheer. The main group is less enthusiastic, with Tavin and Allis rushing to Anna, fearing for her life after seeing her go down to a plasma cannon veritably obliterating the lump of solid stone she had taken cover behind. To their relief, the cover had taken the burnt of the damage, with the heavy suffering from superficial burns and temporarily blinded by the flash, but otherwise fine.

Leaving Allis and her medikit to treat the wounded heavy, Tavin head for Hal's prone form. After seeing Anna only inconvenienced by a plasma cannon and remembering that his fellow young man was hit by nothing more than an autopistol, Tavin expects to have little trouble getting him back up. Getting closer, however, Tavin can note the huge pool of blood. Grabbing the man's intact arm, he can find no pulse. After carefully turning the body over, Tavin notes the series of holes along the other man's upper arm, two of which have torn into and through the axillary artery. Few snipers are capable of making this shot on purpose, never mind some juve with an autopistol. Someone got lucky, Hal did not. Tavin tries to resuscitate the other man, but only in vain. Perhaps if they had not waited a few moments to make sure the coast was clear before going to take care of their wounded or if he had head for Hal immediately, he could have done something, but saving someone who has lost the majority of one's blood in such a short period of time is beyond his abilities.

The Tunnel Foxes are somewhat dour on their way back to base. True, none of them had actually loved Halbert, but he had still been one of them. Rambrand had more or less asked him to provide the enemy with a tantalizing target and hope for the best. Yes, juves dieing is a fact of life, but to die due to a direct order can still ruffle some feathers, especially as this was their first life lost. Had Liria died to the Ironmen, the grief would have been greater - she was already a true asset even back then and her sister loves her dearly. However, her wound came to her due to the shifting tide of battle, with her closer if anything to the back of the firing line. Lorraine in particular is silent, idly petting one of her bats. Had it not been for their perceived use on the flank attack, it could well have been her drawing the enemy's fire.

On their way home, the group stopped at an abandoned hab dome and buried Halbert's body inside the ruins of someone's home. A large piece of the roof was pushed off and back onto the collapsed walls to conceal the corpse and the laspistol that had been left with it. There was no superstition going on about him needing it in the next life. However, Rambrand and the others felt that it should somehow be signified that this was the grave of a Van Saar warrior, not some random underhive scummer. The body, positioned artificially in a resting pose, clutching the pistol on his chest, is obviously more recent and unrelated to the building's collapse. Some graffiti, depicting the Van Saar skull-and-claws on the roof itself and a stylized 'Hal' on a nearby wall, would mark the grave. With the already existing graffiti on the walls and even the roof itself, strangers would most probably not have any idea this was a grave site. However, if they ever needed to come back here, the Tunnel Foxes could find the site again.

The very next day, life returned to what passed for normal in the underhive. Liria got to work trying to build a floodlight for sale after one of Rita's clients had complained about the meagre lighting on his buggy while Honore was doing maintenance on the weaponry. Tavin and Rambrand were practicing their shooting in the range and Allis was patrolling the core of their turf with Anna.

Soon thereafter, the payment from the Cawdor gang was received. Elizah had been honest. After their lucrative victory against the Ironmen, Rambrand had so many credits on hand that he even made a donation of ten credits to the chapel. Not a huge amount of money, but still more than what most individuals could give at one time. Approached by the Holy Flame's fearsome leader, the veteran Van Saar had prepared for a potential fight and was pleasantly surprised by the friendly manner and offer. He had at that time assumed this might mean some form of alliance between the Tunnel Foxes and the de facto most powerful force in Rustholm, at least short of the merchant guild.

However, as he and Allis head to the main settlement with Red for the umpteenth time, and he discovered the true extent of Elizah's plotting, he felt a pit growing in his stomach. The goliath newcomers had managed to ambush and outflank the Cawdor gang, once. They had shown that not even this gang was invincible. In reply, the apparent zealot had orchestrated such an engagement where the one enemy who had managed to lay him low was so utterly outmatched that what few goliaths might have survived had no doubt fled to the farthest corners of the underhive. If he ever ended up on the Holy Flame's bad side, the trouble they've had and would probably still have with the Orlock menace would in all probability seem a joke in comparison.

Walking into a bar to gather his thoughts, he was interrupted by an another Van Saar walking up to him.

"Hello, cousin."

"Do I know you?"

"Verner Von Mittensee, at your service."

Rambrand glares at the man. The green eyes and prominent scar on his neck don't look like the Verner he knows. Likewise, this man is lean and fit, unlike cousin Verner whose successful factory has led to him being as adipose as a guilder.

"Right. 'Verner'."

"Verner, of the Alevan Von Mittensees. A distant branch compared to yours, I am told."

"You are close kin to Richmond Von Mittensee of the Dancing Spark then?"

"Richmond? The Dancing Spark has been run by aunt Agatha for the last ten years."

Rambrand smiles. This man is at least knowledgeable about the Alevan branch of the family. He can check up on if he's actually kin or not at his leisure.