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Post by The Glass Ninja on Jul 16, 2014 15:01:00 GMT
The Day Previous
The Bloodstained Reapers meet the Bloody Claws
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They'd heard the sounds of gunfire all the way over in the Arse without much difficulty. It was only a kilometer or so away. Benny had been napping in the rafters of the warehouse when the sudden cacophony of sound reached his ears. It was a dull echo, from the darkness of the hive, but he was down a set of ladders and with the rest of his crew in a heartbeat. They'd been doing various things - the Brothers, tending to the various guns owned by the gang. His cousin had been painting in the corner - flowers she'd seen in a schola book once. How the hell she'd even gotten her hands on it, Benny didn't have a clue. The rest were either chatting to the new Drug cook they'd picked up, or getting ready to head out and find some working girls to 'protect'. He'd discussed it with them the night before, when he'd come back from his patrol.
"Any word on what the fuck that was?" Horus grumbled as he walked over. He seemed to have taken a shine to the Drug Chemist, and the gruff ganger was pissed at not getting to talk to him more.
"No. Sounds like someone got messed up though...Mick, Mack, Jerry - you're coming with me. Horus, take Mendle and keep lookout on the roof. Laria and Julius know what they're off to do"
As usual, there were some grumbles, but the team moved quickly to set about their work. A paint stained Jerry grinning, and a happy seeming Horus offset the air of discontent though. Benny knew they were happy with the work.
Already, Mick and Mack had their stubbers slung and Jerry had grabbed her las rifle from the tables set up in the centre of the warehouse. They followed their leader from the base, and quickly moved through the littered streets into the stretch of emptiness between Gammerville and Ulyesses Arse. They were ready - weapons drawn. The image of a few watchful gangers, ready for a fight, was horribly spoiled by Jerry skipping along beside them.
Good emperor Benny thought the girl can go from murderous bloodhound to...that...so easily. His thoughts were quickly diverted by the sound of bootsteps ahead.
Nikolas and Drachen had crawled through a pair of pipes filled with debris, their fatigues dirtied by hive dust, muck and splashes of blood from their previous confrontation against the Falcons. I hope we'll find friends, he mused, motioning to Drachen silently to move up slowly, taking cover from point to point, years of training perhaps the only thing to keep them alive. From cover to cover they ducked, until finding a small abandoned building, the structure practically half collapsed, slipping in and removing their autoguns from their slings, watching as a quartet of people walked through, a woman skipping along.
“Slow and low, wait until they close. We'll approach when we've got an optimal engagement range if worse comes to worse,” he whispered to Drachen, moving alongside to get a good position near a window, peering out as his mask caught a brief sliver of false sunlight, reflecting a dull gleam to those that might be looking, although only a moment. Drachen started to move to another window as Nikolas reached his, although finding himself in less than remarkable circumstances, tripping over a dust covered pipe and falling into a pile of metal scraps, creating a loud clamor.
“Son of a frellin' whore!” he yelled out, autogun swinging and clacking against his mask on its strap. Nikolas scanned to the group, seeing them going alert, swearing under his breath as he prepared for what he hoped would not be a gunfight.
"You'll be a dead son of a frelling whore if you don't show yourselves!" Benny yelled, after he'd ducked behind a pile of rubble. The two brothers had set their stubbers on a fallen iron bar, the long barrels scanning left and right all around the source of the noise - ready to turn the area into nothing more than bullet filled air.
Jerry had dropped immediately, her rifle in her hands and her playful demeanor immediately gone. Now, the psycho was back...well, the bad part of the psycho. Her lips were pursed and eyes gleaming, legs shivering with blood lust.
Benny had trained his Laspistol on the pile of scrap that he'd identified as the source of the racket. "So, who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"
Emperor damned idiot, Nikolas once again thought, watching as the other group arrayed themselves, their weapons raised and ready to fire, one of them asking on who to address. The options were limited, the telltale barrels of a pair of heavy stubbers aiming towards him. He nodded to Drachen, who had regained his footing and established a much more effective position, before stepping out, mask still adorning his face.
“Nikolas Strond, leader of the Bloodstained Reapers. And what pleasure do I have in meeting you folk out here?” He kept his voice composed, his compact autogun slung across his chest, chainsword hanging tightly at his belt. This is the second time I've done this in the past day. I should really get something to protect my body.
"We heard gunfire from the arse. Came to see if anyone was dead, or needed some help" Benny peeked over a fallen girder, his las pistol's crudely painted Eagle barrel trained on the heavily armed man in front of him. They looked professional enough, and a booted nudge from Benny had Mick standing and moving to the side so that his boss could stand and vault the girder, holstering his pistol though making it obvious beside his chainsword"So, what was the trouble?"
“We were just shoving off some Falcons who think they can run around like a bunch of warlords all over other people's territory,” he responded, a thin sliver of fear in his voice, his mask hiding any expression that may come out. “Perhaps you'd like to talk dealing in a mutual pact to keep our little Ass nice and clean.”
"Depends on your terms" Benny glanced behind him, and then sat himself down on a smooth piece of lascrete, sticking up from the rest of the detritus that coated the hive-tunnel. "We're willing to give you some help against fuckers like the Falcons - when they think they can walk over us all, at least."
He shifted slightly before sitting, shouting out to his other man in the back to come out. "They stab one of us, they get stabbed by the other is what I'm thinking. Simple and without any issues relating to pressures relating to economics."
Benny was leaning forward on his knees, his short black jacket falling around his sides as he observed the two masked men. They seemed reasonable, though he'd need to watch his back working with them - if the Falcons got too violent, it'd take all their effort to even push them back "Sounds reasonable to me, Nikolas. I'm Benny, by the way. Back there's Mick, Mack and Jerry -" He added, in a quieter tone "-be glad not to meet Jerry. She's never been right in the head"
"That's Drachen back there, so we call him. The rest of my group are back at our little base of operations licking wounds. We've directly pissed them off, so we're going to begin reinforcing our little hovel for the eventual shitstorm, I suggest you do the same."
"Well, you just get in touch if you've got any info, or anything you need" Benny reached out, offering his hand. He could already hear his crew moving out of cover, slinging weapons over backs. There wasn't gonna be a fight today.
He sighed with relief, the potential threat abated, his posture turning a lot less tense as he took the hand offered and shook it, Drachen removing his mask and getting some fresh air, a tattoo of a dragon terminating its head on his face. "We'll be sure to. Just don't shoot anyone wearing these masks." And thank the Emperor they didn't.
"You just watch out for us - we don't have any marks, but in our territory we'll have three slashes of paint up on walls - Emperor bless you." Benny stood up, nodding to the bare face of his new ally "Now, I've got some business to get to back home. Hope your guys are alright"
With that, he turned and walked away. Showing your back wasn't ever a good idea in the underhive, but he knew his crew would lay low the two masked men if they opened fire, and he also knew that he'd made himself some allies. Whatever happened next, he was sure, any death would come at him face on.
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Post by Dizzyeye on Jul 17, 2014 12:02:47 GMT
The Arrival of the Unchained
It started off like any other day in East Cirset: shops were opened, people were threatened, the usual for what people in the Underhive considered normal. People had started to gather in the Chapel Square, an area known to hold mad monks within a place called The Chapel, and a surprising view fell on their eyes. Usually a small group of “mutants” would be held in chains on a platform, their captors not far behind with flamers’ in hand. They would be sentenced to flame for their heresy of being mutants then eaten “By the flames of the Emperor himself!”….or so these monks claimed. Today though, these same monks were in the same position as those they burned. Some whimpered prayers to the Emperor, while the rest cried out claims of heresy.
The square fell silent as a hooded man jumped up onto the platform, the square falling silent. A red glow emitted from under the man’s hood, his black trench coat swaying a little. Two holsters’ could be seen on his waist, one holding a las pistol recently blundered while the other held an old autopistol attached to its barrel. His preferred tool, a sniper rifle, slung over his shoulder seemingly just waiting to be taken out and used. A gloved hand held tightly around a used knife. It was clear this isn’t someone to mess around with.
“Brothers, sisters!” yelled the hooded man, “For too long you have suffered under the fear of madmen, ‘monks’ only were seeking to watch the world –burn- by their hands!”
The crowd looked to one another, each wondering if their prayers for salvation had finally arrived. Fate seemed to say yes as the hooded man slit the throat of the first monk, the sound of flesh hitting metal sounded off across the square.
“No more!” he continued, “These ‘men’ think they can control you through fear. Will you let this continue? I say…..no more!” Another dead monk hit the platform and cheers rose from the crowd. They were getting excited now, much to the satisfaction of the hooded man. With a wave of his hand, two figures wearing similar hoods to the first joined him, each with a lasgun in hand. At the same time, the rest of the gang armed with a mixture of weapons appeared on the roofs behind the crowd.
“We are the masters’ of our destiny and so I will give you a choice,” Pause, “You can either help us and be rewarded with our protection, leave us alone and we’ll do the same or…you can go against us…” The discharge of two lasguns echoed through the square, quickly followed by the dropping of the last two monks, “And that will happen.” The crowd had fallen silent again
“We are in the shadows, we are everywhere, we are the Unchained and we are always watching.” And with that, the hooded men and women disappear into the Chapel, the crowd disappearing back into their lives.
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Post by silence on Jul 19, 2014 8:06:59 GMT
Doom is Brought by a Black Hand
Things happened in a flash. They came in the middle of the night but with all the stealth of a rampaging Carnifex.
Lucy spotted them first and called out to the rest before diving behind the wall she had been leaning on. The Iho-stick she had been smoking had barely reached the ground when Striege made her appearance.
The heavy bolter, Mercy`s gift, opened up and stitched bolter rounds into the assembled assailants, who had all dived into makeshift cover which didn't save them from the devastation Striege was known for. She watched as the bolter rounds bit into the scraps of metal and fallen debris and pretty much reducing them to bits and pieces, but only one of the enemy was hit, the girl falling to the ground and blood started to pool around her.
Suddenly another girl dashed from cover and scooped up her fallen comrade, moving her to what was left of the available cover. What the girl didn't realize though was her back was exposed.
Crawn had rushed out of his office, vaulting his desk, knocking a chair over, and bursting through the door grabbing his bolter. He ran down the hallway to the balcony where his sister had already opened up with her heavy bolter, and came up from behind while loading a clip into his bolter. Analyzing the situation in milliseconds, he noted all the assailants and saw his target. A ripe juicy turned back and no cover to mess up his shot. He raised his bolter and took aim, ignoring the sudden amounts of return fire and let out his breath and depressed the trigger. A bolt round spat from the muzzle and seemed to fly in slow motion on a perfect trajectory towards the turned woman's back. Nothing could stop it as it sailed through the air. But Crawn wasn't destined to see the bolt hit his target as a slug took him in the throat, grazing several vital things. He fell backwards gripping at his throat blood gushing from the wound.
The bolt round that he didn't get to see, tore the woman apart, nearly cutting her in-half.
Striege seeing her brother fall, screamed and loosed more bullets down at the now stunned gangers. Her rage and despair at her brothers fall messed up her shots, but one of the bullets ricocheted and hit another woman. She didn't get to fire more rounds as the sound of fighting from the inside dragged her attention, but she noticed the bastards picking up their wounded and running off.
Meanwhile Lucy had run inside to gather the thrones when she heard Striege scream, knowing that Crawn had to have gone down by the rage brought to the quiet woman. Lloyd appears seconds later with a grim look on his face, confirming Lucy`s thoughts, but she had no time to think farther as screams from men rushing in from the unused tunnels attached to the base.
The first one, rushed Lloyd with and berated him with multiple hits with his chainsword, grazing his left arm and shredding the shirt he was wearing, but not causing any real harm.
Lucy was luckier, as she had time to prepare for the assault from the other two attackers. The first came at her like a crazy cultist, but she used his reckless charge to flip him over her back. The weight was enormous as the man weighed a lot more than her, and threatened to crush her, but she managed to put him on the ground, only to pull her with him as they grappled with each other. The second waited and then tore Lucy off of the downed man and tore into her with his knife, ripping a gash through her lower back. Lucy screamed out in pain, but willed the pain away as she lashed out with her sword only grazing the seconds arm.
Between the other two, it was barely a fight. Lloyd was danced around by the chainsword wielding fiend, and went down after taking a few more slices and a hit to the back of his head with the blunt end of the chainsword, knocking him out cold. The fiend rushes to his allies help, but not before both go down.
Lucy`s world slowed down, the two men who attacked her were both up again, and she watched as Lloyd was beat badly. Things weren't going good, but she wasn't about to go down without a fight. She brings her sword around and starts to assault the shock maul armed man. Her knife having fallen from her grip, she makes full use of her sword, cutting the man up before bringing her sword into the mans neck. The man stumbles back gagging as he tries to gasp for air, but Lucy ignores him as the first man comes at her. She side steps his first blow aimed at her midriff, and brings her swords hilt into the mans now exposed back. He feints stumbling forwards, as Lucy raises her sword to deal the finishing blow, and comes around with a back fist into her ribs, but it doesn't stop her sword from impacting with his collar bone and crushing him to the ground.
Blood running down from her wounds and several broken ribs, Lucy looks up to see the chainsword fiend rushing her, shoulder first. Not ready for the assault, Lucy took the brunt of his shoulder to her already hurt midsection, being thrown back into the wall. The man didnt followed through and the impact only knocked the air from her lungs. Lucy wasn't going to go down like this though, and grasped for a fallen knife on the desk next to her. The man came back at her as she got a grip on the knife, and he slammed her into the wall again. Her head hit the wall this time and things started to go black, but she wasn't done as she brought the knife into his side, before sliding down the wall and slipping into unconscious.
Travis, having been out on patrol, had just run half a kilometer at the sounds of gunfire. He had run into the retreating woman and had managed to put them all into cover. After a short retreating gunfight the woman made off as Travis ran towards the base. He ran up the central stairwell connecting the three levels and entered the base to be greeted by a shotgun blast. The blast missed his head by inches, but the second didn't as it smacked into chest knocking him back out the door. He didn't even have time to register what happened as he was knocked into oblivion from falling down the stairwell he had just come up.
Striege came running into the same stairwell to see her other brother blasted backwards out of the door and down towards the first floor. Her heart sunk, and tears welled up in her eyes, she braced herself and let out a grief stricken cry as bolter rounds started to pour through the doorway. Barely aimed, the bolts miss the shotgun wielder and only a chance piece of shrapnel cuts his face. But the bullets stop as the heavy bolter jams. Striege let go of the trigger and the quickly went back on it shooting more bolts out of Mercy`s Gift. The extra bolts hit the doorway and don't even come close to threatening the shotgun wielder, but he fires another out the door before retreating.
Striege, so grief stricken at the loss of her two brothers, runs down and grabs the unconscious Travis before running back up and making for the balcony. Brother over one shoulder she comes back out onto the balcony to Crawn wheezing, but living. He gestures for her to follow him and then shakily gets up and jumps to the ground, stumbles, then runs into the surrounding habs, followed by Striege with Travis over shoulder.
Meanwhile, Lucy awoke with a start, only minutes having passed and noticed the chainsword wielder was gone. She then noticed Lloyd picking himself up, blood streaming from several nasty gouges. Pulling herself up, Lucy runs to Lloyd and helps him up.
"Let`s get out of here," she says with effort, before they both run out the way the invaders had come in.
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Crawn: 11XP
Travis: 6XP
Striege: 6XP
Lucy: 13XP (Skill tbd)
(All updates present on character sheet)
(Anything that is incorrect please notify me of, I am going off of Harrab`s post and the combat report from Darko, in which there was some differences, so if something changed that I included in this please let me know. Don't want false results  .
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 23, 2014 15:31:37 GMT
The Black Hand : Robes of Red, Fist of Black Killer Cat could smell a fight brewing. The others doubted her, before, whenever she mentioned it the others had laughed, it was the underhive, fights were happening more or lest constantly and sometimes she had doubted it herself, but the air had a certain smell when battle was near, like a rusted tin, and it had been too long since her blade had tasted blood. the journey to Gelt had been long but quiet, the walk through the market while Siren enhanced words and thrones with the traders boring to the Swordswoman. They had seen a trio of men fro another gang talking to a preacher, but Siren directed them onwards with a curt hand gesture, so she followed the smell of battle and kept a hand on her sword. Little dog was riding on Mr Torch's shoulders like a kid with her Father, and the Gaint seemed to enjoy it just as much as the chattering juvie for all the expression that damn helmet gave the man, Siren was in her element, strutting through the crowds between her two gaurds with that soft smile on her face and that chainsword on her back. That make Killer Cat feel... strange. They had all agreed that Siren was the best choice for the new boss and the Veteran understood that. But to see her sword carried by another made her shudder. It needed to be whetted in the blood of the bastard that had killed its old mistress. Siren turned from a stall and hefted a lasgun pack at Killer cat, who caught it with a look of puzzlement. "for Killshot." the Madam said, as if that explained anything "now, i understand that there's an Admech shrine around and i for one am not looking forward to walking home in these heels." She winked, Killer cat rolled her eyes. However, the smell of Battle grew as rank and invasive as a rotting corpse and the sight of a tech preist and a handful of gangers in Falcon Colours outside the shrine compelled the swordswoman to grasp her new boss by the arm and pull her back. "Trouble." she said flatly, her gaze locked on the group ahead, where it seemed the discussion was getting heated. For her part Siren only nodded and kicked off her shoes. Suddenly a truck painted with the felon tag on its door pulled up in a screech of brakes, armed men and women leaped out, and both the admech and the group around him broke apart and readied weapons. "Defilers." Siren spat, "I don't care who they are, this is a shrine to the Emperor, Black hand move in, support the tech priest!" "Yeah! Lets kill 'em!" little dog shrieked, falling from Torch's shoulders in her excitement, "get 'em Mr Torch!" The giant roared in agreement and pounded forward, grasping his flamer in his huge hands as he charged. The Black Hand advanced as one, running forward as a plasma gun shrieked and lit up the gloom in bright blue, followed by the crackle of an activating power weapon cutting trough flesh, from with the shrine two hulking servitors thudded towards the fight. ++HOSTILES DETECTED++. they boomed in their fake voices, sounding like a railcart's vox announcement ++DEFEND THE SANCTUM++backing up the annoucement, one armed with a heavy bolter fired a burst into a cluster of new arrivals, one was hit and dropped like a puupet with its strings cut, one threw himself out of the line of fire and a third was hit several times but kept her feet. Other falcons charged the servitors, striking the constructs several times, but the machine men ignored their strikes even as blood and oil splattered the ground. Siren had heer pistol in hand and fired at the group near the truck, missing them entirely but making a burn right on the falcon tag. Killer cat snorted and fired her own pistol, snipping out of her cover by another unused truck to hit a ganger in the shoulder, he yelped but didn't go down, cursing, the swordswoman ducked back into cover, but a return shot ricocheted from her cover and her instinctive dodge caused her to throw herself backwards and drop the pistol. meanwhile from a stack of crates to her right Little dog took a heavy toll on the Falcon truck's paint, the floor around the enemy and an unfortunate window. Little dog laughed and whooped anyway The mere fact these gangers dared to even fire near Little dog pushed Torch even further into a rage, a falcon hosed him down with lasgun shots, hinting the giant easily as he ran forwards, but only serving to make him madder. with a roar he lifted his flamer to face a sudden charge of falcon teenager and bathed them in burning fuel. Two were lucky and threw themselves aside just in time, but one was covered in flames, dropping his weapons and screaming, batting at the flames that engulthed his flesh untill Mr touch grabbed him in both hands and slammed the target of his rage into the floor a few times until the screaming stopped, ignoring the stream of bullets from a falcon heavy that flashed past. The tech priest was still fighting a handful of gangers, parrying and counter striking the fools around him, heedless of his own wounds. Cat sprang back to her feet, pistol back in hand as figures in Enforcer colours can sprinting from the markets Taking up Postions alongside the Black Hand, one who's equiptment looked better kept than the rest took cover beside Siren just as she and Black Cat fired their pistols at an over confident Falcon rushing towards where Mr torch was stomping on a juvie, the first shot from the Boss knocking the falcon back, but Killercat's dropped him, but another shot from another falcon dropped the giant with a bellow of pain and rage "the feth is all this?" the Enforcer yelled as his men opened fire, Little Dog laughing as an enforcer lasgun exploded "Falcons picked a fight with Mars," Siren responded, reloading her pistol and ducking back, "They defile this place of the Machine Spirit, and therefore defy the Emperor himself. My Black Hand fight against such heresy." The enforcer captain stared. "Alright." he said flatly, "Fair enough. Enforcers, fire on Falcons only." "One copies- fuck!." an enforcer took a lasgun shot and dropped, his comrade with a plasma gun returned fire with a double tap and with a scream a flacon goes down "Two copies, man down! Venting Plasma gun, cover me three." "firing, missed, damm it. Four, take the shot!" "His lasgun went pop!" Little dog said with rather too much enjoyment, "his face is all burned but he's swearing, so i think he's ok!' Killar cat watched the filth enforcer drop a falcon with a well aimed burst and even take a shot at the same time, but is armor stopped the hit the man rolled to a new patch of cover without even seeming to notice. However a scream that cut through the gunfire cause the Black Hand's head to snap back around to the main fight, a falcon had just learned why attacking a servitor with a chainaxe was a bad idea, as its servo arm came down like the fist of the machine spirit itself, pounding the ganger into the ground so hard the crackle of ribs sounded like gunshots themselves. "Fall back!" a falcon yelled, "fall back!" The surviving falcons obeyed instantly, one hitting the tech priest with a shock maul, driving him back long enough so they could disengage, Killer Cat tried to fire at the one giving the orders, but the ones around the truck sent surpassing fire at her and the enforcers, and they had to duck or loose their heads. By the time the shots faded, the falcons were gone. At least, most of them where gone. A falcon lay groaning and bleeding where the Tech priest had hacked her down. Pausing only to recover her shoes, Siren strode over and trapped the injured woman's throat between high-heel and toe before she could stand, pinning her to the ground. "Mister Torchy!" Little dog Shrieked, noticing for the fist time that her big shadow was down, still marinated in adrenaline the juvie was as she rushed to his side, "get up Silly, we won! Nap time come later!" There was a groan like a truck horn and with the juvie pulling on him with no effect, the Heavy stood and limped towards where his boss stood, the Enfircer captain followed,leaving his men to see to his wounded "Magos." Siren said respectfully to the techpreist while making the sign of the Cog, which the man echoed, " i am glad you survived. This shrine has been fouled enough. " ++Indeed, Your assistance was timely and appreciated++ Valorum Glared down at the Falcon gasping and clawing weakly at Siren's boot, ++ I Believe i have something that will serve as adequate compensation for your service.++ the Black hand leader smiled humorlessly down at her captive, "Unlike some, we respect the Priesthood of Mars." "And i need to make my report." the Enforcer Captain added, gesturing to his men, "Who exactly are you? I don't recognize your patches." "we are the Black Hand." siren replied, giving her foot a little twist, causing the prisoner to gasp and choke, "we were simply on our way to talk business when this waste of space and her friends started shooting." "well, you have my word the guild will make an exception to the violence in Gelt in this case," the Captain replied with a glance at the tech priest, who nodded , "Your Black Hand are welcome here." "Little Dog, Killercat, search the bodies,' Siren Barked, as the enforcer withdrew, take anything useful. The Magos and i have things to discuss, both business and with this idiot." Killercat nodded, nudged Little Dog and moved away to where a body lay, its eyes open and sightless. Behind her, Siren spoke in a low voice to the Techpreist, who responded with a dry chuckle that sent shivers down her spine. As she slung a heavy stubber over her shoulder a minute or so later she saw the expression on the prisoner's face. It had gone white with fear. The Black Hand gains:Flak Armour Chain Axe Bolt Pistol Knife x3 Heavy Stubber Laspistol x2 Sword Prisoner: Lyra of the Falcons Valorum approaches the leader of the Black Hand and gives them a reward in the form of a rare item from his store room: 1 Auto-repairer (requires a Heavy to be functional, allows all weapons to re-roll failed ammo rolls with a 50% (4+) chance of success) Black Hand XP: Siren 26XP - Triumphant Leadership 10XP - Survive a battle without going down 10XP - Participate in a victory 5XP - Hit an enemy 1XP Siren is now at 76XP. She is now rank 1 Gang Champion. She has levelled up twice. - Counter Attack - Medic Killer Cat 11XP - Participate in a victory 5XP - Hit an enemy 1XP - Put an enemy down 5XP Killer Cat is now 61XP. She is now Gang Champion rank 1. She has levelled up twice. - 8, 2, +1 wound. - 5, 5, +1 attack. Mr Torch 11XP - Participate in a victory 5XP - Hit an enemy 1XP - Put an enemy down 5XP Mr Torch is now at 71XP. He is now Gang Champion rank 1. He has levelled up once. - 10, add +1 to toughness. Little Dog 10XP - Survive a battle without going down 10XP Little Dog is now at 10XP. She is now Juve rank 1. She has levelled up once. - 8, 4, +1 toughness.
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Post by Darko on Jul 24, 2014 16:28:21 GMT
NECROMUNDA CAMPAIGN WEEK 1 DAY 4 BEGINS
Local news/events
All through the Underhive, talk of the emergence of so many new games, many who are outright defying the Falcons, is the talk of the day. Some fear the vengeful iron fist of Jaeger Ravion, while others are grateful for these local legends carving out a name for themselves. Many people in the free settlements are much happier to give these gangs a chance than to live under the heel of the Falcons.
Most notably, several gangs have risen to some notoriety over the past few days.
The Bloodstained Reapers
The Widowmakers
The Black Hand
'Will these vagabonds save us from Ravion's claws? Or will they follow in his footsteps?'
It is becoming apparent that the Guild and its enforcers are concerned, doubling patrols and guard postings after the repeated assaults on Tech Priest Valorum. However, with many of their personnel involved in guarding the trade convoys, many question whether the beating heart of the Underhive is truly safe?
Any other gang that attacked Gelttown would be branded outlaws, this is common knowledge, leading scores of people - particularly the wealthier people - to wonder if the Guild is as powerful as it makes itself out to be.
In Grimtown, the huge statue of the infamous ganger was torn down by the resident Widowmakers, a bold move and blatant challenge to the Falcons. However, all across Grimtown, the symbol of Grimm's Reavers have been spotted, most with the phrase 'the Reavers live' crudely written below.
The Gladiator Pit continues to uphold its offer of paying handsomely any gangers who come forward and participate in the special tournament. Participants will receive money simply for entering and if they win then they will claim the jackpot.
Entrance reward:
Regular ganger - 25 thrones
Gang Leader - 50 thrones
The jackpot stands at 75 thrones, with possibility of it increasing.
Elsewhere in the Golden Gelt, it seems an anonymous Guilder contact imbibed too much mead and blabbed about an upcoming trade convoy carrying particularly rare and expensive goods. What happened to this man and the details of the convoy are sketchy, mostly hear-say and idle guesses at what the Guild may have purchased through its upper-hive contacts, but someone somewhere surely knows the truth of it...
There is also a rather oddly dressed woman in the Mutant's Taint who has rented a room there. She is known to have an off-world accent and is supposedly a treasure hunter, but no one seems to have been able to find out any more so far. And by that, it means several of the unpleasant patrons of that most infamous of establishments have approached or outright assaulted her, and all have been duly beaten bloody by the off-worlder.
On the streets of Gelttown, a mad, blind old preacher has been wandering around babbling about a nonsensical 'divine prophecy' and for the most part no one has paid him any heed, save a few ganger types that were spotted talking with him the day before.
The Artic Fox's were kicked out of their base of operations in Farville, something the typically reclusive residents of Farville are happy about, but they are resentful of gang conflict returning to their settlement.
The Unchained, new gang on the block, has made a strong first impression with a public display of authority in East Cirset, most notable due to its sheer proximity to Falcon territory.
After some time, word has spread of a mysterious fire in South Cirset in an apartment block where a single charred corpse was found. The apparent lack of gang activity there has many confused, as such a thing is rarely an accident, usually a brutal execution style favoured by violent gang types. The people there are concerned and have implored the nearby Guilders to investigate, or if not them, then perhaps the Falcons will be able to take matters back into their own hands and protect them from a similar fate...
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Post by Lord Harrab on Jul 25, 2014 0:48:04 GMT
The Black Hand: Rumors and Examples. With the Stress of the shootout the previous day, and still with Business to perform in Gelt, Siren had elected to stay in the township overnight with Killer Cat, sending Mr Torch and his juvie back with orders to send down Killshot and Overwatch, so when Siren elegantly descended the stairway of this minor back ally Drinking hole, new bolt pistol shining on her hip opposite the laspistol, she found Overwatch waiting for her, the new contraption the tech preist had given them strapped to her back and the Marks-woman at her shoulder. "Boss." the Heavy greeted with a nod, "Sargent," Siren replied, stepping aside so Killercat could exchange those odd little hand gestures with kill shot, "we have a busy day ahead of us, the rumor mills ahev been producing quite the quota of interesting news, and i belive i did promise Killercat here a go in the arena, before we had to teach some falcons to respect scared ground." "Heard it was a brutal fight" Overwtach agreed, "Littel Dog said you had a prisoner, then hyperventilated and Torch had to take her out back and wake her under the pump and yous aid you wanted me down here so i didn't have time to wait." She glanced around, "is the Prisoner upstairs? Who's guarding her?" Siren gave a tight smile, "she is currently receiving the, eh, tender cares of the facility she sought to defile." Over-watch's placid expression didn't change. behind her Killshot was examining the new las pack critically, before marking it with a strip of blue tape and pocketing it, "ah." the Gang leader didn't respond, instead choosing to snap her fingers twice in the battle-chant of the Black Hands, instantly the eyes of Killer cat and Killshot where on her and expressions expectant. "Thank you dear sister, for your insights." Siren thought as see gestured out into the street, Killer cat exiting first with kill-shot behind. Overwatch took the rear, her face exprsionless as she scanned the patrons around her as they left. As the door shut, some started to breathe again. Valorum was waiting for them when the Black Hand Arrived at his shrine, his two gun sevitors already active in case anyone else wished to try their luck, he greeted Siren with the sign of the Cog, ++Your timing is impeccable, Siren++ He said through his voxunit, ++I have just finished blessing the recipient and removing from them the all too heavy burden of thought. +++ He crackled a brief sentence of his order's bizarre secret language and a shadow moved in the doorway behind him. ++She is now, heh, initated in the ways of the Machine.++ he said with amusement evident in what little flesh of his face that remaind. ++ i release her into your service.++
+++ONE VISION, ONE PURPOSE++ The servitor Lyra boomed, with a soft clattering as her auto loaders fed rounds into the stubber mounted above her right shoulder, her left forearm twiched as she feed power into the chainaxe that had replaced the hand and wrist. robes of the machine-cult shrouded most of her form, but the face that stared out like a pale mask was identical to the woman who had agreed to assault a sacred site. Killer cat Laughed and clapped her hand together delightedly "So it begins."
Black Hand GainsGunservitor with BS upgrade, Heavy Stubber and chainblade attack arm  Sold: 2 Laspistols, Sword, Flamer Thrones remaininf: 19
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coolyo294
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Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169 
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Post by coolyo294 on Jul 25, 2014 9:39:14 GMT
Tensions were running high at the Neon Night ever since Olivier's kidnap. For hours they had been debating their course of action and how they were going to get their leader back. To Akira, it was a little overwhelming. She had never been one for grand strategy, that combined with the shock of losing Olivier made her glad to draw sentry duty just so she could escape the oppressive basement.
It early in the day cycle and the club wasn't open yet. So that saved her the trouble of having to check guests. Instead she leaned against the wall, shooting venomous glares at anyone who strayed too close to the building. Her autorifle was always close by.
Suddenly she noticed a man in a black stormcoat approaching. It was the bastard that had kidnapped Olivier! Raising her autorifle, Akira placed the sights directly on the man's hooded face. She could detect no obvious hostility from the man but she wasn't going to take any chances. He stopped about three meters away from where Akira stood.
"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off, you fucking prick." she called to the hooded man.
"Because I'm the only person alive who knows where your Emperor-damned leader is, and if you ever want to see her alive, I'll be needing my face intact. Now listen up, if you're smart, you'll go in there and release Thea to me and then your leader will be set free. Or you can ask yourself, do you feel lucky, punk? Because if so, pull that trigger. But if you do, you better aim real fucking good." the man replied. His voice was gruff and belied a lifetime of weariness and drinking, but it still had a fighter's edge to it.
"And how do I know you're going to follow up on your end of the deal? Show me Olivier, and then you can have your piss poor excuse for an assassin back." Akira said.
The man grunted and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a dataslate. He walked up and handed it to Akira. It displayed a single picture of Olivier, gagged, a little roughed up, and incredibly pissed off, but otherwise unharmed. She handed the dataslate back.
"Alright. Meet us where the statue stood in a half an hour. We'll have Thea. You bring Olivier." she said
"Fine, but if you show up with more than two people, I'll gut your boss like a sack of prefab proteins. Do not make the mistake of crossing me again, newbie. I've been at this game a lot longer than you," the man said. And with that he turned to leave. Akira did the same and headed back inside the Neon Night to tell the others of the plan.
-----30 Minutes Later-----
As Mona, Melissa, and Thea arrived at the square where Grim's statue once stood, they found it eerily empty. That was good. No dumb civvies to crowd the place up.
"Get a move on, bitch." Melissa said as she shoved Thea forward. The prisoner's hands were bound and a gag had been roughly shoved into her mouth. In addition a ragged burlap sack had been draped over her head and Melissa's autopistol was pushed against the back of her neck.
Mona simply clutched her trademark stubber at the ready.
"That's close enough! Let Thea go, and no sudden moves!" came a voice the duo remembered as that of their attack.
"Let's see Olivier first!" Mona called out.
There was a pause and a figure was forcibly stood up on the other side of the square. Like Thea a hood obscured her face and they could make otu the glint of a gun barrel pressed into her back.
"Your turn! Or the lady gets a new hole." the man said.
Thea was pushed forward
Olivier began to stumble over blindly at a steady pace. "Send her over at the same time!" the voice calls as this happens
For a few tense moments both sides waited before their respective hostages arrived. As soon as Olivier reached them Melissa ripped off her hood and arm restraints.
"Now back out of the square slowly with your hands where I can see them!" the voice said.
"Fucking asshole!" Olivier said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to fucking kill him!"
"Well at least we know he didn't send over a fake." Mona said with a half smile. "C'mon, let's get out of here."
Slowly the three backed out of the square. Olivier made an obscene gesture with both hands directed at where the hooded man and Thea were as she backed out.
As soon as they were out Melissa handed Thea's plasma pistol and ripper to Olivier.
"What now boss?" she asked.
"First we head back to the Neon Night. Then we're heading into Gelt." Olivier spat. "We need to make some friends, and then we'll show that old drunken relic what happens when you mess with the Widowmakers."
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Olivier, Melissa, Mona, Tona: Heading towards to the Mutant's Taint
Rest of gang: Guarding base
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Post by Warork on Jul 26, 2014 7:25:22 GMT
The Doomheads: Aggressive Expansion
The previous day
"What do you call a joygirl who's in it for the fun?" Skorch asked Twinshot. The two of them were sitting behind a concrete wall that had been a part of a shelter once upon a time. The building had since been half demolished and then subsequently abandoned after a sump quake had collapsed several other buildings in the area in this quadrant of Farville. Somewhere outside the wall Karrus and Storm were posted, making sure no sentries from their intended target would uncover their position prematurely. The Black Hand and the Doomheads had already met up a bit earlier to go over the plan again and now all that was left was waiting for the show to start.
"A dumb bitch like you." Twinshot quipped after blowing smoke out from the lho stick that she was sharing with Skorch. The burly ganger with a brilliant red mohawk looked quite unamused.
"Go shootin your mouth off like that everywhere you go," he warned, "and you'll probably get it shot off in return."
"Good thing I've got your fat ass to cover me then eh?" She quipped again. The sound of boots scuffing the gravel strewn ground came to their ears and both of them stood up as Storm rounded the corner with his shotgun in hand, dour faced as ever.
"Ready?" He asked simply in his terse manner.
"Yeah, we get the signal?" Twinshot asked as she checked one of her autopistols. Storm shook his head.
"Soon." He said and then motioned for them to follow him. The three wordlessly walked out of the ruined building and into the dim light of the hive's day cycle. They hugged the outer wall of the building until they came to the edge of an alley where the side of the building met the road and there saw a familiar white haired figure standing at the corner and peering out onto the street and the buildings on the other side of it very carefully.
"Problem boss?" Skorch asked quietly as he joined the line behind their leader hugging the wall so as not to be seen. Karrus shook his head.
"No, but I just saw the Black Hand start towards the target. We'll be stuck in any second now."
"I really hope this source of yours wasn't lying about the thrones these guys have." Twinshot quipped from her place in the line. Karrus didn't bother to turn around to look at her.
"We're about to find out just how many of your whore words you'll have to eat when this is over."
Now it was Twinshot's turn to look unamused. Skorch attempted to stifle a chuckle as he hefted his flamer. The sound of a gunshot followed by many others in quick succession cut short any more talking. Karrus grabbed the chainsword in the leather scabbard at his side and turned to gang with a peculiar grin on his face.
"You know what they say, balls to the wall or none at all!" And with that he was off, running across the street to head off towards the building that rose above the others where the shooting was happening. Storm wordlessly followed as Skorch ignited the pilot light on his flamer.
"That big hunk of metal will get you killed." Twinshot quipped as her autopistols appeared in her hands and she followed the others.
"Try standing in front of it." Skorch shot back. "Then we'll see who's dead."
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They ran towards the building, each one wide eyed and scanning every nook and cranny for a hidden shadow that would signal that their element of surprise had been blown, but thankfully as they neared their target's stronghold they saw nothing but dust swirling in the gentle breeze. By now the sound of gunshots and laspack discharge from the front of the hideout was constant.
"Remember," Karrus said. "We're here for the money, anyone who gets in the way..." He gave them all a sly look as he triggered his chainsword into life. "Try to use your imagination."
With a gleeful howling, Karrus leapt forwards, crashing weapon first through the window of the bottom floor, shattering the glass loudly. Storm came in behind him but chose instead to give the door next to the window a savage kick which flung it open with a crash, Twinshot and Skorch bringing up the rear. They immediately saw that they were in a large room with a staircase at the far end that led up to the second floor. Karrus immediately homed in on a figure that came into the right side of the room to investigate the noise. With the wide eyed merriment of a man who enjoys nothing more than the thrill of mortal peril, Karrus charged forward towards his opponent yelling incoherent curses. He lost track of anything happening behind him, he was vaguely aware of Skorch engaging in similar close combat with another enemy and Storm headed towards the staircase, steely eyed as ever. He didn't know where Twinshot was.
To his credit, the nameless ganger of the Arctic Fox clan, a name that deserved to have it's members lives made as miserable as fucking possible in Karrus' opinion, was fairly quick and nimble even for being completely surprised. In the end though, Karrus' blind fury and maniac, animal barking and howling eventually came through and he threw his opponent to the floor with a gash or two for his troubles, only to be met by another enemy, this one with a sword. Karrus' chainsword ground to a halt upon his challenger's blade and the two stood face to face for a moment, trapped in their stance as they gritted from the exertion of trying to push their blade's through the other's guard. Karrus laughed again, his face consumed with savage joy. He barked madly in his opponent's face before lurching forwards and biting his opponent's nose which caused him to reel back. Karrus smacked him across the floor with the flat of his chainsword to look for another opponent. Somewhere behind him, Storm's shotgun was blasting up into the staircase.
Skorch rose from the ground, sometime during the fight, he had been brought to the floor by a blow. He groggily groped for his fallen flamer which he eventually found and then stood up, looking around him to see that the cacophony of the skirmish had died down. He grunted, it hadn't gone at all like he'd hoped. He didn't even get to use his weapon.
"Looks like they ran for it." He said, walking over to where Storm was sitting in a chair after the ordeal. He noticed that the ganger had a wide tear in his coat which seemed to be dribbling blood down his arm.
"You alright?"
Storm grunted. "Just a scratch. Got a lho?" Skorch looked in one of his gear's pockets and found his lho stick pack, handing one to his comrade. The man brought out a lighter to light it and Skorch began to look around himself.
"Seen the boss?" As if on cue, there was the sound of a chainsword scratching and clawing at metal and a loud thud from another part of the room that was hidden from them by a wall. In a few moments Karrus stepped out from behind it, chainsword in one hand and a large, heavy looking sack thrown over the other shoulder. He placed it on a table in front of the two gangers with an audible clinking of something metallic in the bag, the grin he had when they first assaulted the building still written across his face.
"Payday, boys." He announced. Skorch came over and looked into the sack.
"Holy shit." He announced. He dipped his hand into the sack and brought out a fist full of throne gelt. "There must be at least a half grand here."
"Drinks are on me when we get back to the Kingpin, maybe girls too." He sighed. "Speaking of bitches, where's Twinshot?"
"She went that way." Storm said, nodding to a doorway that stood open to another room in the building. "But she didn't come out."
They found her sitting with her back against a wall. The wall was streaked with blood where someone had sagged down it while bleeding profusely and Karrus could see exactly who the blood belonged to.
She breathed in ragged gasps, a hand holding her side where it appeared she had been given a nasty gash the likes of which Karrus hadn't seen in a while. She gripped the spools of her intestines taht were trying to spill out with the hand at her side and weakly continued to breathe, unable to move. She turned her head to face Karrus, her face pale and eyes dim.
"Well." She said weakly. "Gave him as good as I got." She nodded slightly to the blood spatters that made a beeline out of the room towards the front door evidently belonging to whoever had mortally wounded her. Karrus was silent for a moment as he eyed the scene.
"If you had he'd still be here like you." He said in a hollow voice.
"That's how it is eh?" she said softly, her head sagging against the wall. "You're not gonna hold me close and tell me it'll be alright?" Her voice took on a slightly embittered tone as quiet as it was. "Good. I was hoping we'd avoid all the sappy shit. I don't suppose I can't just go to a doctor and get patched up or some shit then?"
Karrus didn't flinch, he shook his head, crouched next to her as he was. "Nah, not no underhive doctor anyway. You went and got gutshot, most they could do is dope you up for a while." Twinshot sneered in response. She suddenly started coughing wetly, putting her free hand up to her mouth which came away bloody. She grimaced in pain.
"I guess the fact that you're standing here means we won?" She managed through the pain. Karrus nodded, his face betraying no discernible emotion.
"Thank the Emperor for small mercies I guess." She sneered again. Her eyes went to something on the other side of the room. "Hand me that bottle." Karrus looked to wear she pointed and saw a mostly full bottle of some sort of grog sitting on counter on the far side of the room. He brought it to her and she took it from him, to his surprise tipping the bottle back and draining the entire thing before tossing it aside. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and sighed.
"Figures...My last drink and it tasted like burning shit." There was a snort and then Karrus started laughing which then in turn caused Twinshot to laugh. That went on for about a minute until Twinshot finally fell silent, he body going limp and Karrus knew she was done.
Minutes later, Karrus was heading out the door of the building. There was no sign of either the Arctic Foxes or the Black Hand. He could only assume the gangers he had made a pact with had fled during the fight which meant that by rights all the thrones and the Farville turf was his. But what were a few thrones compared to friends in high places? He split half of the thrones into another sack and brought it with him.
"Storm, I want you to scope out the town, see what we're sitting on now. You know, shake the branches and see what comes out. Skorch can stay here and clean up. I'm heading back for the Kingpin."
"We're gonna be a bit shorthanded here if those Fox wannabes come back." Skorch pointed out.
"I'll send one the Skinners over to help out when I get back. Keep a sharp eye out."
"What about her?" Storm said, nodding towards Twinshot's body which was on the floor and covered with blankets. Karrus barely glanced at her.
"Burn her or bury her, I don't care. Just make sure she's gone whenever I get back."
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BATTLE RESULT: DOOMHEAD VICTORY (also counts as a Black Hand victory by extension)
Doomheads gain: 545 thrones and the gang base at Farville
Serious injuries: TWINSHOT DEAD
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Karrus gains 51XP
- He has levelled up three times. He is now Gang Champion rank 4.
- +1 attack.
- +1 to Leadership
- +1 to Toughness.
Skorch gains 20XP
- He has levelled up once. He is now Gang Champion rank 1.
- +1 initiative.
Storm gains 26XP
- He has leveled up twice. He is now Gang Champion rank 1.
- +1 WS.
- +1 wound.
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GANG ACTIONS: Karrus returns to North Cirset, Flayer goes to Farville, Skorch is guarding the Farville base with Flayer and Storm is out to see what the territories around Farville contain.
50% of the thrones gained from the raid are given to the Black Hand (273 thrones)
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169
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Post by coolyo294 on Jul 28, 2014 19:30:04 GMT
The trip to Gelttown was rather uneventful. The four gangers made their way there via Little Gelt and along the way no civilian had enough guts to stop the heavily armed gangers. Crowds shrank away at their passage and they relished the terrified looks they received. It was good that even the inhabitants of Little Gelt knew enough of their reputation to be afraid, Olivier thought.
Although no one stopped them in the settlement itself, the Widowmakers were stopped at the entrance of the tunnel to Gelttown. Guild Enforcers had erected a barricade of rockcrete barricades and patrol cars along the tunnel’s wide entrance, funneling travellers down to a narrow checkpoint. Five enforcers toting shotguns guarded the barricade while their sergeant and another enforcer manned the checkpoint. No one was waiting at the checkpoint when the Widowmakers arrived.
“Is there a problem, officer?” Olivier asked him innocently as she approached. She could tell they were jumpy. Surely from that big fight that happened in Gelttown not too long ago.
The sergeant gave her a cold stare. “Not unless you’re a Falcon, which I’m reasonably certain you’re not.”
“No sir.” Olivier replied
“Good. Then be on your way and don’t cause any trouble.” the sergeant said as he moved to the side to let the gangers through.
On their way again, the Widowmakers encountered no trouble in the dimly lit tunnel. It was pretty empty save for some beggars and a few travellers, probably on account of the Guilder barricade. When they arrived in Gelttown itself, the clamor of the crowds was a welcome escape from the tunnel’s oppressive silence.
“So why’d you drag us all the way out here?” Melissa asked as they walked.
“We’re heading to the Mutant’s Taint.” Olivier said simply.
“The Mutant’s Taint? That shithole?” Mona said.
“Yeah. Shitty as it may be, it’s a great place to get information. Plus I heard that some offworld treasure hunter chick is holed up there. She might have some work for us and we need thrones before we can hunt down those Grimm-loving bastards.” Olivier said. Her face grew dark as she mentioned the followers of Grimm. “And believe me, we’re going to hunt them down.”
“Alright, alright. Calm down Olivier.” Mona said. “I believe you.”
They lapsed into silence after that. Gradually the surroundings began to change as they moved into a seedier part of the already seedy settlement. The streets became overgrown with weeds and littered with refuse and were empty, save for the occasional stumbling drunk or grim outcast. Few buildings had intact windows, or intact roofs for that matter. Graffiti and tags from long forgotten gangs adorned the walls. This was the section of the city where only the worst of the worst lived, true scum and human refuse. A few men gazed at them from alleys and doorways. Most looked on with disgust. But many did so with barely contained lust.
As they turned into an alley that lead them to the Mutant’s Taint, they were accosted by a particularly odious drunkard. He was a squat, portly man with thinning hair and small watery eyes set into a piggish face. The reek of liquor emanated from his every pore. When he opened his mouth to speak, Olivier could see the yellowed stubs of his teeth. A few of his friends lurked behind him, snickering.
“How much for the girl?” he slurred, pointing a sausagelike finger at Tona.
“She’s not for sale.” Olivier said as she walked up to the man.
“Sure she is. “No girls in these parts, ‘cept for whores.” He said. Suddenly he peered closer at Olivier’s face and grinned. “How bout you, lady? You wanna take a ride on this tonight?” he said as he motioned towards his crotch.
Olivier smiled and laughed. The man initially looked confused, but then began to laugh along with her. Suddenly Olivier stopped laughing. “No, I don’t think I would you pathetic wretch.” she spat.
As the man could even muster a confused grunt, Olivier lashed out with her fist and felt a satisfying crunch as the drunkard’s nose shattered. He shrieked and fell down on his rear, clutching his broken nose. Before he could get up, Olivier reared back her leg and smashed the tip of her steel-toed boot into his face. His head snapped back and he collapsed onto the filthy ground. Olivier did not stop her vicious assault..
“Do! Not! Fuck! With! Me!” She exclaimed, punctuating each word with a stamp of her boot.
The drunk’s friends made like they were going to do something about the attack, but Mona, Melissa and Tona levelled their weapons at them.
“Go ahead motherfuckers, try something. I dare you!” Melissa said.
With a clatter, the men dropped the weapons they were carrying and ran away from the alley as quickly as they could.
Eventually Olivier ceased beating the man. By that time both his eyes were swollen shut and his face was a mass of livid cuts and bruises. What few of his original teeth remained had been completely smashed out and blood mixed with spit leaked from his lips in a disgusting trickle. He groaned and attempted to crawl away, but Olivier pinned his throat with her boot. She leaned in close to his face and drew her knife.
“I’m not done with you yet, baby.” She crooned.
With a quick slice she cut away the man’s ragged shirt, revealing his flabby pale chest. “Hold him down.” She said, gesturing for her fellow gangers to grab his arms.
Then with agonizing slowness, she began to carve into his chest. He shrieked until his voice grew hoarse, but by then Olivier was already done what she was inscribing. The butterfly and dagger symbol of the Widowmakers stood out vivid and crimson against the pale white of the man’s skin. Olivier didn’t bother finishing him off. If the pain and blood loss didn’t get him, the eventual infection would. It wasn’t worth wasting anymore effort.
Olivier wiped her knife clean on his pants and stood up. “Well that was therapeutic.” she said. “Shall we continue?”
Whether they just got lucky or word of their attack had spread, the Widowmakers encountered no one else on the way to the Mutant’s Taint. Loud music and yelling could be heard even on the street as they arrived. They typical patrol car that was usually parked across from the bar was gone, likely moved to tunnel guard duty. A hulking, skinheaded bouncer stood silent and motionless at the door, glaring at them as they approached.After giving each of the four a thorough onceover, he stepped to the side and indicated for them to enter.
The inside was exactly as Olivier remembered from the few times she’d been here before. Loud, smelly, and packed to the brim with drunkards and brawlers. In one corner of the bar a particularly menacing man in Falcon stripes with a bloody nose knifed another man. His victim screamed and fell backwards, knife falling from limp fingers. The Falcon dropped to his knees and began flaying the unfortunate man. As his shrieks filled the air the Falcon stared maniacally at Olivier, who recognized him as the Falcon’s most brutal lieutenant Urbain. If she had less spine she certainly would’ve flinched and shrunk away, but she held the psychopath’s insane stare.
A badly wounded man limped past them, bleeding profusely from a gash on his chest.
“Urbain’s offering 200 thrones to anyone who can take him one on one in a knife fight. But it’s suicide, I’m only getting out of here because my three dead buddies are keeping him company.” he muttered as he walked past.
Olivier ignored him. She had no intention of fighting that man, and if she did it certainly wasn’t going to be a one on one knife fight. No amount of thrones were worth getting mutilated by that maniac.
As Urbain continued to flay his target, the bartender perched himself behind the counter and busied himself with polishing a shotgun as he pretended not to hear the screams. Not far from the bar a striking woman with strikingly red hair and a bionic arm punched out a harasser, knocking him out cold and likely breaking his jaw in the process. Shen then took a long swig from her drink and wiped her lips on the of her sleeve of her outfit that was likely worth more thrones than everything Olivier owned.
Olivier smirked. “That’s our lady.”
As she got closer she could see the offworlder was wearing an elaborate tricorne hat and fancy uniform jacket made from the hide of some exotic creature. The jacket was not buttoned up all the way and Oliviier could see a carapace breastplate beneath the fancy clothing. A gilded blade was sheathed at her hip. Opposite to it hung an unusually large, archaic-looking flintlock pistol. Normally flintlock weapons were crude things found in the hands of only the most desperate, but this was clearly a beautifully crafted work of art.
"You've got a nice right hook there," Olivier said.
The offworlder looked like she was about to respond when another drunkard punched her in the chin. She staggered back a few steps, wiped the blood from her jaw, and replied with a bone-crunching uppercut that sent the man flying into a table.
"Fucker smashed my bottle..." the offworlder complained before scanning each of the four gangers. When she was done she gave an almost imperceptible nod, a sign of her approval. "Unlike the pleasure ladies in here, you appear to be quite capable of handling yourselves," she observed. "Now tell me, who am I addressing?" she said.
"Olivier Thorpe. Leader of the Widowmakers." Olivier said. She extended her hand to be shaken. "And you?"
"Janthine Yolande," she seemed to think for a moment, "Entrepreneur. Come, sit." she said, biding Olivier to leave her underlings and sit with her at a table. As Olivier sat down Janthine shouted at the bartender for two more drinks. The bushy-bearded man glared and set down his shotgun before bringing over two dusty blue bottles. Once he was gone Janthine spoke again. "I have need of some local assistance; people who know the area, but can also handle themselves when the going gets tough. I can offer payment for work, however I cannot simply allow anyone with a gun and mean attitude get involved in my business affairs. If you desire to work with me, you must first prove yourselves capable, call it a test. If you pass, then I will involve you in my future business operations in the underhive."
Olivier took a swig of her drink. The fiery liquor burned at her throat, nearly making her eyes water. "Well, colour me interested Yolande. What's this test then?" she said.
"I have a taste for old things, miss Olivier. Reliquaries, archeotech hordes, so forth. This is an old hive and it is full of such lost treasure, ripe for the taking with those who have the skill and knowledge." She paused, reached into one of the pockets on her jacket and pulled out a small pict-recorder. "I assume you are intelligent enough to operate this. All you must do is find an unexplored archeotech cache, filming it with this as evidence of your successful adventure. Do this and return the proof to me, along with anything you find, and we can do business together in the future."
"Seems fair." Olivier said as she took the pict recorder. She finished her drink and stood up. "We'll be talking soon, you can count on that."
A short distance away Melissa noticed a pair of heavily armed figures enter the bar. They were clearly gangers. One was a hard faced man toting a boltgun, the other a heavily muscled woman clutching a heavy bolter. She was certain they spotted her as well. After all, every Widowmaker cut a distinct appearance and was easy to spot even in a den of debauchery like this.
"C'mon girls, let's get out of here. We've got archeotech to find." Olivier said.
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Post by Warork on Jul 29, 2014 5:19:54 GMT
The Black Hand and The Doomheads: Partners in Crime
"I wish I could have been there." Beast said as he walked down a familiar tunnel. He and Karrus were headed down the tunnel to West Cirset where the Black Hand were camped. Karrus hadn't seen any of that gang since the fight at Farville the day before but he doubted they had moved anywhere. That wasn't pressing in his mind, however. His eyes scanned his surroundings in the tunnel and he kept checking how far it was to the other end. He kept thinking about that mutant beast and how it had ambushed them the last time he'd come down here. There were a few things different about this time though; it was daytime and this time he had the reassuring menace of Beast's autocannon with him. "I know, but we needed you to stick around the Kingpin and make sure no locals got any funny ideas." Karrus replied as they walked. "We were new in town and there's always that one asshole whose got more guts than brains. You know how it is." "Yeah but still." Beast persisted. Karrus looked at his friend, that hulk of a man walking with a grimly sour look on his face as he contemplated the death of one of their number. "You two weren't...you know?" Karrus asked, suddenly curious. "Us? Nah, Kota might have been though. I'm glad you sent him over there. He would have wanted to help bury the body." "Yeah well...don't get used to me being nice." Karrus said sourly. "I've got a reputation to keep up." Beast chuckled as he hefted his autocannon which he held in a harness by his side. It was fed by a large drum full of rounds that would no doubt ruin some asshole's day given the chance. "So what's the story with these Black Hand guys?" He asked. "You never talked to me about them." "They hit the Foxes with us. Bugged out after their boss got wasted in the fight. I gave em their share of the thrones afterwards...Don't look at me like that!" Beast chuckled again. "Say what you want, Karrus, you can be a nice guy when you set your mind to it." Karrus grumbled under his breath as he adjusted his bolter's strap. They were nearing the tunnel exit now. "I don't even know who leads em now so stay on your damn toes. Ain't nothing like a jumpy ganger to ruin our good luck." "If you think they're so unstable then why meet with them? Without a boss they'll probably just go their separate ways soon." Karrus shook his head. "Nah, these ones are...different. They've got...I dunno, a purpose or something." "Like those religious kooks?" "I don't think so, its hard to explain. I've got my reasons for coming out here and you'll just have to trust me till we get there." They exited the tunnel without any incident and made their way down the roads until they found the front gates of what appeared to be the lair of the Black Hands. Karrus heard a sentry that he hadn't yet seen whistling and stopped outside the perimeter, waving to whoever was watching him in the shadows. Beast nodded his approval. "Pretty legit." He quipped, Karrus grunted with impatience. "Now lets see if they're still open for business." For a while the Doomheads made themselves as comfortable as they could outside the Black Hand's base, a short ganger in a cap watching them disinterestedly from the other-side of the gate, despite being only just above five feet tall, she seemed utterly unimpressed with the men on the other-side of the fence. "Can't let you in without the Boss's say so." was all she'd say when approached, juggling a pair of knives, "she's in Gelt right now so you're shit out of luck." Suddenly she turned and threw the knives at an empty can, one impaled the target, the other hit handle first and knocked it off the perch "fucking balance's all wrong." she muttered as she retried the blades, ignoring the men outside as she returned to her juggling. and so time passed, the Doomheads getting more annoyed and bored, until the ganger at the gate suddenly caught the knives between her fingers and sheathed them at a whistle from the still unseen sentry. "Boss is back." the Gate Guard translated as in the distance they could see an approach group. Karrus recognized most of them, Overwtach and Killshot had been a part of the group that helped them attack the arctic foxes, but it was the woman in front he didn't recognized, her clothes and odd mixture of corset dress and flack Armour, chainsword on back and a pistol on each hip, trailing behind her was unmistakably a Gun Servitor, towering over the others despite a hunched back laden with an ammo pack. The Whitehaired woman approached the gate and stopped when she saw the Doomheads, Killshot gave them a flat stare, but Overwatch nodded at Karrus respectfully and leaned over to whisper in the other woman's ear. she smiled slyly and walked forward, her earlier pace mow switched to a slow and seductive hip sway. "Well, Well, What have we here?" She said once she was standing before Karrus, but before he could answer she had put a finger to his lips and whispered, "hush, i like it when a man is the strong, silent type and I'd hate for you to open your mouth and shatter the illusion." She kicked off her high-heeled shoes and seemed to drop a good few inches in height, "Thank the Throne, that's better," she continued, 'those shoes may give me a great ass, but they are murder to fight in, and walking, hah, that's a problem to put it mildly. Now, what brings two strapping young men to my door? We've not looking for new members just yet." Karrus and Beast gave each other a look. Beast signaled his annoyance at the display with a raised eyebrow but in return received a expression he hadn't seen from his boss in a long time; something like interest and arousal coupled with mischief. Beast rolled his eyes. 'Here he goes.'
The Karrus did something not even Beast expected. He reached out and took the white haired woman's hand, still slightly outstretched from her pointing gesture when she had asked them who they were...and then bent over and kissed it as if he were in some high hive lord's court. Beast searched the expression of her gang members for any offense this might have caused but found only raised eyebrows. "You must forgive this unannounced intrusion, Madam..." He began in a soft voice with that unnervingly empty smile which seemed to be the only expression of confidence he could contrive. He trailed off in the hope that someone would fill in her name for him. "Madam Siren." The white haired woman responded, apparently still judging Karrus' performance. Whatever was going on it was certainly above Beast's head. "Madam Siren." Karrus repeated as he let go of her hand. "My name is Karrus and I run my group out of North Cirset so I am afraid that I have not come to join you. I have, however, come to extend a hand in collaboration once again. As you know, your people were involved in a...joint business pursuit with my own around this time yesterday, a pursuit I am happy to say has left the Doomheads as the sole protectors of Farville." "I see." Siren said in an even tone. "And what has this got to do with my girls?" "I understood you lost one of your own in the scuffle." Karrus replied with something Beast would approximate as compassion. He squinted, he had little call to observe his boss at work and knew he probably could not care less about the Black Hand's losses. That was Karrus, always the ardent actor. "You have my condolences and my sympathy as my number too, has grown smaller from that battle. Our numbers are stretched thin as we have need to protect both estates. Therefore I would suggest an alliance between our two groups as far as Farville goes. If you would have your group join mine in protecting that area then I would be willing to give you the same promise I gave Shortfuse; fifty percent of all earnings." So that's why he wanted to come down here, Beast thought. It made sense, two gangs were certainly better than one. He looked back at the white haired woman and sniffed. While he felt like Karrus had pretty much sealed the deal, he also felt sure that this woman was more wily than Karrus could imagine...perhaps then his interest in her was the only thing about this conversation that wasn't faked. Beast had known Karrus for years and if there was one thing he was sure of it was that the man had a thing for bold women... Siren sighed and turned away from Karrus, extending her arms to encompass the small group with her, Killshot was still giving Karrus a glare, but Overwatch looked bored, pulling a lho stick from a packet and lighting it as the two leaders played their game of Spire court. "and thus, the illusion is shattered." Siren said in a sorrowful voice. " I will have to look elsewhere for someone to play with." She turned back at the amused chuckle and with a huff of disappointment placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back a step "You were polite, but a little heavy handed with the upper-hive mannerisms, I'd let you into my bordello but not my bed, I've dealt with your type before, all manners and gifts but a heart-breaker through and through." She winked, and then her whole posture changed, becoming more business like, yet still confident as she recovered her shoes and folded her arms, "I'd need to know more about what exactly that district contains and what you expect the weekly profit to be worth before i send any of my soldiers to watch over it, Overwatch vouches for you, but beyond that i know little about your group. Better to clear the air between us right here and now so we don't have to keep one eye open while we sleep. We are the Black Hand, and we fight for the forgotten. Who are you?" 'A heartbreaker eh?' Karrus thought. 'Oh she is good.'He shot Beast a hard look as the big man attempted to stifle a chuckle. Apparently some of Siren's words had struck home in his mind, not that Karrus could really refute them, they were all true. While Karrus had seen bit of himself in Shortfuse he found himself being somewhat glad of her passing, this new leader of the Black Hand was as quick as a whip and in an underhive of drunkards, charlatans, and idiots that was saying something. "We are the Doomheads." Karrus said simply by way of reply. Now that the game was over he stood there hard and unfeeling as that old statue of Grimm that had been toppled. "We fight for ourselves. We raise up the weak and make them strong and we look after our own and our friends." He went back to smiling. "Farville is a good piece of turf and I can personally guarantee that you'd see a return in the high double digits every week. That's as good an offer I can make and I won't make it to anyone else." He stuck out his hand for it to be shook. "Do we have a deal, Miss Black Hand?" The leader of the Black Hands smiled and grasped the Hand, "I guess we do, Mr Doomhead." The grip tightened, surprising Karrus, "but remember, the Black hand can also become a Fist, and Traitors die in shame, as the Throne teaches us." Never one to be stay off his guard, Karrus smiled at his new business partner and tightened his own grip. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He promised --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Beast noticed that Karrus seemed a bit more jaunty on the way back home instead of the grumpiness he had taken with them on the way to West Cirset. There were jokes and sideward remarks about the Black Hand's new leader and of course a lot of bravado from Karrus which was funny to Beast in itself. For the first time in a long while he seemed genuinely happy instead of his old manic self. Now to see how long it would last... As they walked up the steps to the Kingpin at the Derricks, Syd came out to meet them. Karrus, still too high on his little performance, generally wrote him off as he pushed past him and entered the building. "What's goin on, Skinner? You make any recaf yet?" He asked as he walked through the doors. "Well no, but I--" "That's great...go get me some." "But boss, I--" "What's wrong with you today? Scrapworm got your tongue? Spit it out." across the main lobby, someone cleared their throat, Karrus' head snapped around to see two figures now standing there expectantly. Both were armed and looked like gangers. "Who are these two?" Karrus asked Syd who sighed in exasperation. "I was trying to tell you, these two came here while you were gone. They want to be Doomheads." Karrus looked at the two so far silent figures for another moment before that familiar grin spread across his face. If the two were disconcerted by it they didn't show it. Good, Karrus thought, then they've passed the first test. "So you wanna be Doomheads eh? Alright, lets see what you've got." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Gang Actions: The Black Hands send Whisper and Soundwave to Farville, they are joined by Skorch and Kota "Slayer" Skinner. The rest of the Black Hands remain at their base in West Cirset. The rest of the Doomheads remain at their base in North Cirset. ----------------------------------------- The Doomheads gain: Name: Roy AKA "Iceman"Gender: Male  Rank: New ganger (50 thrones) Weapons: Lasgun (25 thrones), knife Armor: None XP: 30 Skills: None Stats: WS: 3 BS: 3 S: 3 T: 3 W: 1 I: 3 A: 1 LD: 6 ----------------------------------------- Name: Sera AKA "Razor"
Gender: Female  Rank: New ganger (50 thrones) Weapons: Autogun (20 thrones), Sword, knife Armor: None XP: 30 Skills: None Stats: WS: 3 BS: 3 S: 3 T: 3 W: 1 I: 3 A: 1 LD: 6 Total thrones spent: 145
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