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Post by The Glass Ninja on Jul 29, 2014 5:20:28 GMT
The Day Before
They walked through the streets of Gelttown, Benny just a little behind Mick. The big man had Jerry hanging onto his arm like some cheap floozy he hired to make himself look better. The difference was, you could get rid of a floozy with a few Thrones - Jerry had taken a like to the hulking ganger and he had no way of getting out of it. The girl had even punched a whore in the mouth when she started getting touchy feely with Mick.
I pity him. I really do...poor guy doesn't know what to do with her - never dealt with a girl who didn't want money for what's between her legs Benny thought quietly. It seemed like all of his people were forging personal lives for themselves in their new home - Horus had taken to sleeping above the Lho stick lab so he could keep guard over the chemist and his equipment, Mick was dealing quite unsuccessfully with Jerry (she thought his clumsy attempts at pushing her away was simply him playing hard to get). The rest had started frequenting the local dives and dens in their free time - making friends, getting drunk, punching people into unconsciousness.
He could see himself slapping them around in future if they got too casual - the Claws were still new here, and Benny couldn't abide laziness, or complacency. As he moved with his two companions through the slightly crowded streets, on their way towards the trading post, they found their ears assaulted by the loud ranting of a man standing on a box. He was spewing some drivel about a holy 'worm' (what would these hiverats start worshipping next...) and, ever devout, Benny wanted to hear what the old man had to say. The Gang leader was perfectly ready to break the old man in half if his heresies were too foul even for the underhive.
After pontificating some more to no one in particular, the old man seemed to sense the approach of the Claws. He turned, old blue eyes staring off at nothing in particular, and addressed the three gangers powerfully and loudly. He babbled for a moment about his 'one true Church' and Benny caught his name - 'Weimskr'. He'd not heard a name so stupid since last time some mid-hive ponce had flounced his way down to visit one of the more reputable fuckhouses that dotted the underhive sump. Suddenly, his interest was caught again and not by heresy nor name - the old man had mentioned the word 'quest'. Benny had been employed many a time before. Many jobs had different names for what they actually were: Proposition, mission, endeavour, and yes, quest. They all had one universal feature though.
Profit.
"So, you have a job for us, eh?" The gang leader asked, stepping forward from his two companions. Even in his faith to the emperor, profit was king in his mind. More verbose 'holy' words spewed from the words of the old preacher - Benny wasn't too interested in what he believed, and worked hard not to tell the old man to hurry up - when finally he got to the point.
"I have a map that can lead you to a nest in the southern wastelands. All old Weimskr asks is that you bring him Scrap Worm eggs, undamaged, so that the HOLY PROPHECY can begin! Weimskr will pay you 50 thrones per SACRED WYRM URN!"
The old man wanted Scrap Worm eggs, and was willing to pay for them...Benny sniffed and looked back at his subordinates. Mick was busily prying Jerry off of his arm, quite absorbed in the task at hand.
Even if the old coot can't pay, we might gain from this map...scrap worms are dangerous but their eggs could be easy enough to transport...
"Alright" Benny had decided "Give us this map then". The old preacher drew a tattered scroll from within his voluminous, filthy robes and handed it down to the gang-leader. Benny was glad he was wearing gloves, especially as a beetle scurried from between the rolls of paper and over his fingers. A quick shake of the paper made it safe for inside of his pistol holster.
Their trip was uneventful afterwards. A quick transaction with the armour in the trade post gained them enough armour to fit each member of the team - the thin-plasteel would stop some shots, Benny was sure. Having loaded all but three of the suits into Mick's backpack, the three gangers donned their new aquistions and made their way out of Gelttown.
Well, almost. As they were passing by the shop of the local enginseer, they found themselves privy to a battle. Not a mere fight, but a skirmish unlike any Benny had seen since Grimm had fallen. A bunch of Falcons were laying siege to Valorum's shop, and a few gangers were out front defending it. The three claws had drawn their weapons, and prepared to flank the Falcons, but the whole thing was over before they even got there.
They were disappointed at missing the fight - they were still to introduce themselves properly to the big dogs of the underhive.
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Post by Nepty on Jul 29, 2014 18:04:43 GMT
-Like Quicksand
Andrew leaned against the bar and tapped the counter. "Barkeep!" he barked. Who's a man have to blow to get a drink around here?" The gelttown bar was heavy with smoke and the murmur of talking people. Somewhere someone was playing a hornpipe jig. Everyone was getting good and sloshed in preparation for the games.
Andrew watched the barkeep come over and nodded at him. The glass of strong liqour was lazily filled and money changed hands. The glass slid over."Thanks mate." Andrew slipped the scrap of paper that the barkeep had placed under the glass and drained it with as much show as he could make. He stowed the scrap up his coatsleeve and slammed the glass down. He staggered to a corner where he collapsed in a chair and unfolded the parchment. He read it in about a second and then stowed it in his pocket. It'd be useful for later.
*one hour later*
The entire Crew was assembled. They were dressed in a motley assortment. Some wore ironworker's rags, most wore the storm coats favored by the population of much of the underhive -cold and filthy rain were always problems. They were all gathered in the common room of the hideout. By unanimous consent, they had named it "Antioch" after an ancient place shrouded in myth and legend. Every member of their brotherhood was attent, save for Tyler, who was skulking in the corner, polishing his bolt pistol with a filthy rag.
Vic walked in and glanced around. "Well, aren't we excited today," he remarked, noting the attentive faces.
Hule nodded. "It's not often you call us all into attendance like this."
Vic harrumphed and made his way to the old desk that sat against one of the stone walls. He glanced up at the dripping ceiling with distaste. "As we know, our goals are rather lofty, and should our venture succeed, we will all consider it well worth the losses, but I'll have it out here and now. To succeed, we will have to scrape and claw our way through morality. We will do things that other men would call evil. We will steal, rob and murder for our vision, and if we fall in it's execution, so be it. If any man is of a mind opposed to this venture, let him speak."
There was dead silence. Even Tyler had stopped his industrious polishing and was glancing around at his companions.
"Very well." Vic unrolled the map on the desk. Tacked beside it was a scrap of paper that Andrew had retrieved about an hour before. "Let's begin." He looked up. "A wise man once told me that before you can clean up the shit, you have to climb out of it. Even so, keep in mind lads, the shit's like quicksand. It sucks you in, so let it be known. There is to be know whoring, diving, drinking or otherwise addictive activity while on the job. What you do on your own time is your own damn business, but we'll have non of it here. If you smoke lhos, alright, but if I find so much as an obscura pipe on a man that he's not selling, that man's going to have his eyes gouged out with the fragments. If you want a fuck, we run our own brothel. It's free for you boys, if you want to dice, only do it crooked. I'll have no man wager brotherhood money. Keep your pieces clean and your minds sharp, we're in it for the long haul. So for now, curb your vices." They all nodded. They'd resolved to this a long time ago, and the reward far outweighed any temporary loss. "Macks, go out and test the air. See which way the wind is blowing in terms of jobs and get the lay of the land. Fuller, you're to go out and case the joints I told you about earlier, understood?"
Both men nodded. "Get going then." They left.
"Hadrian, I want you to go out and collect the thrones the girls made. I can't imagine it'll be much. They're just whores, but it'll go the distance. Tyler, Howe go out and see if you can't rustle up any thrones. The rest of you, arm up. We're going hunting."
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Post by Warork on Jul 31, 2014 6:15:56 GMT
The Doomheads: New Acquisitions
"I think someone forgot to tell me what we were doing." Syd said, breaking the silence of the three doomhead's leisurely walk through the streets of North Cirset. He was joined by Karrus and their new addition Razor who so far hadn't said a word to Syd although he'd seen her sharing plenty with Karrus. The roads were dusty as always and it was right in the middle of the day cycle so the dim hive light modules above them were at their brightest luminosity. Despite this, it was still impossible to see more than a few stories above ground level due to the damned ever present smog. "That's pretty easy, Skinner." Karrus said in an amused voice. Syd was walking slightly behind his boss but could imagine the stupid grin on his face. He always called him "Skinner" too, both him and his brother. Being referred to by his last name got irritating after a while. "We're taking a walk." "You know boss, sarcasm is the refuge of a shallow mind." Syd shot back. Karrus stopped in his tracks and turned to Syd with an unhappy look. "You callin me shallow, meat-cicle?" "I'm callin you bloody hard to talk to." Syd replied without flinching. Karrus smirked and turned to continue walking. "I guess since you can't trust me I'll tell you. We're getting close anyway." He said, readjusting his bolter in his hands. "We're going to see a doctor." "A doctor?" Syd asked. "Why, that joygirl give you a rash?" He chuckled. "You know I really hoped someone in my gang wouldn't be as dense as an engine block." "What are you on about now?" "That truck that came by the old warehouse and dropped off all those boxes earlier, do you know what was in them?" There was a silence between the three as Syd contemplated the meaning of his boss' questions. Before he could answer though, Razor broke her quiet, nearly startling Syd who had forgotten she was there. "They looked like they were full of lab eq uipment...shit to make chems maybe?"
"Smart girl." Karrus said as he turned to Syd. "Where'd you find her again?"
"I'm sensing a plan here." Syd said, ignoring the question. "But if we're going to sell drugs, whose going to make them?"
"Why do you think we're going to see the doctor? They call him Thraxus."
"THAT freak?!" Syd asked incredulously. "He's not a doctor, he's a dealer who's taken too much of his own shit."
"You hear about why he wears that cowl?" Razor interjected as they walked. "Lab explosion. You really want to trust this guy around our stuff?"
"That was a long time ago." Karrus said waving his hand dismissively. "Look, if we're going to compete with other dealers then our chems have to be top shit. Thraxus makes a mean hit of slaught, trust me." He chuckled suggestively. Syd and Razor gave each other a look, Razor just shrugged and kept going, Syd grumbled but followed his boss.
A minute later they had arrived at a shack that was cleverly built between two larger buildings. The shack was small, had one door and one window in the front. Karrus walked up to the door and knocked on it. From within the shack there was a sudden curse then a series of wet sounding wheezes followed by the sound of clattering junk as someone inside tried to make their way to the door.
"Coming, coming!" Said a voice with a heavy accent and apparently damaged vocal chords. Karrus waited while the figure within unlocked several unseen locks behind the door which after a long wait, opened just a crack. Part of a face peered out from behind the barely opened door.
"Who is there? I have nothing for sale today."
"Thrax?" Karrus asked, leaning close to the door. "Its ol' Karrus, remember? Come on out, I've got a business proposition for ya." The man behind the door seemed to consider for a moment and wheezed again before shutting the door and then fiddling with a few more locks before opening the door again. The other two gangers beheld a bedraggled looking figure whose prevailing feature was a shroud wrapped around his head that covered most of his face except for his eyes.
"Yiss yiss, I would remember one of my best customers. Fine then, what would you have of Doctor Thraxus?"
"I wanna hire you, Thrax. Come make your chems for me and my boys. You have to have heard by now we're in control of this area. You'd be well compensated."
The "doctor" seemed to consider this and gave a long gaze to the inside of his shack where all of his makeshift equipment was.
"I don't know Karrus." He said in a reluctant tone. "All of my best tools are here and I would have to move. No...too much trouble for this old doctor." He began to turn back to go into his shack.
"Did I mention that I got my hands on a real synthesizer?" Thraxus stopped and turned back around.
"An intact synthesizer?" Karrus nodded with a smirk.
"Yep, straight from the midhive, none of that flaky jerry rigged shit."
Thraxus gave another look at his shack but was quick to turn back to Karrus this time.
"Yiss yiss. I would like to see your lab. I will come. Allow me a moment to gather my things." He went back into the shack and closed the door behind him. Karrus turned to his two compatriots.
"What did I tell you eh? Top shelf or what?"
Syd grumbled. "Pardon my hihg gothic, but I still think that guy is a few planks short of a shelf."
"And that's why you're not the boss, Syd." Karrus retorted and went back to waiting. They seemed to wait for an inordinately long time. Just as Syd was about to ask what was taking so long, Thraxus emerged from his shack and quickly closed the door behind him and began hustling away from the shack.
"Come, follow." Thraxus said as he hefted a pack full of his belongings on his back. "We must go now, they will not take anything from Doctor Thraxus!"
"What in blazes is he on about?" Razor asked as he watched the man jog away.
"I'm not really sure..." Karrus said as he examined the open door to the shack and in the shadows saw an object with a red light blinking rapidly.
"OH SHIT!" Karrus yelled. "GO!" He ran from the shack and without a word his gangers followed him. An explosion ripped through the shack as they were running and the shockwave put Karrus on his face in the dirt. As the roar and heat of the explosion died down, Karrus got to his feet seeing that Syd was doing the same.
"What the fuck was that!?" Syd asked, coughing from the dust that had been kicked up. Suddenly Thraxus was beside them, crouching to talk to Karrus who was still trying to get upright.
"I am sorry, Karrus, but they must not find my secrets. Now we must go, hurry please!" He said in his guttural accent and kept going. Karrus watched him go as he dusted himself off.
"Ain't he a hoot?" He asked. The look on Syd's face made him laugh.
"We better not let him get too far ahead of us." Razor said, surprisingly she looked like the only one who had not been thrown flat by the explosion.
"Don't worry, he wont get too far. Bastard doesn't even know where he's going." Karrus snickered.
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Doomheads gain: Stimm Lab (120 thrones)
Drug Chemist: Doctor Thraxus (50 thrones)
Total spent: 170 thrones
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Post by Darko on Aug 4, 2014 20:20:52 GMT
NECROMUNDA CAMPAIGN WEEK 1, DAY 5
Local news/events:
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Word has spread that several gangs have fallen apart and scattered from Scrapton, Gammerville and Solstar. There are mixed feelings about this, as some preferred having protection from the Falcons, while others argued they were no better. Regardless, scavengers set upon the abandoned bases, tearing them apart for salvage and looting whatever gear or equipment was left behind.
However, it does mean that a significant amount of turf is now up for grabs... whether the local big shots will capitalise on the success they've had so far or whether new gangs will form, remains to be seen.
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The Gladiator Pit officials announces its special offer for gangs to sign up to participate in the special gang tournament will close at the end of the week (Week 1, Day 6) and the tournament will be held the following day (Week 2, Day 1) provided at least 3 gangs are participating.
Currently one gang has signed up:
The Artic Fox
The Pit officials implore all local gangs to partake in the events, with a town crier reminding them of the quite reasonable rewards up for grabs - money, fame and glory amongst them.
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After apparently having little success in previous days, the mad blind old preacher has accosted several gangers in passing (how he knew they were there, well, who knows) as they were on business or perhaps on break from their gang duties. Regardless, people from every gang will have more or less gotten the gist of what he's about, with his rambling always being roughly the same with each telling:
"Terrible and powerful Wyrm! We, your unworthy servants, give praise! For only through your grace and benevolence may we truly reach enlightenment! And deserve our praise you do, for we are one!"
He chants, his hoarse voice projecting around the street.
When you approach he doesn't seem to notice you. You see he has ice-blue eyes which stare unseeing into the distance. But, he orientates himself in your general direction and speaks: "Ah! Come to old Weimskr to be enlightened? Or maybe even join the ONE! TRUE! CHURCH! Of the fabled Wyrm? Or is it work you're looking for, yes, YES, I have need of TALENTED and FAITHFUL warriors to carry out a most HOLY QUEST!"
"Old Weimskr has spent many DEVOUT cycles studying the almighty Scrap Wyrms! I have a map that can lead you to a nest in the southern wastelands. All old Weimskr asks is that you bring him Scrap Worm eggs, undamaged, so that the HOLY PROPHECY can begin! Weimskr will pay you 50 thrones per SACRED WYRM URN!"
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Meanwhile, Guild traders are desperately trying to sell off the last of this week's rare trade before the new week's selection arrives. Word has spread around of what is still available:
Ratskin map - 60
Bio-scanner - 59
Skull Chip - 30+3D6
Screamers - 10+3D6 (one encounter)
Silencer - 10+2D6
Any 1 bionic for 50% cheaper than Valorum
Infra-goggles - 30+3D6
Silencer - 10+2D6
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Lastly, there is a new contender in Gelttown's thriving market. The mysterious off-worlder, Janthine Yolande, has opened up a new business. Where she got the resources to set up such a thing is as unknown as the speed with which this new enterprise was set up. Some prospectors wonder if the market - which is almost entirely cornered by the Guild Emporium - is now being challenged by this bold off-worlder? After all, she sells not the primitive weaponry or flimsy keep-sakes of other traders.
Her stores are quite unique in that she deals only in alien creatures - from pack animals to riding steeds to vicious war beasts.
All night a stream of vehicles arrived in Gelttown, with large cages filled with exotic creatures the likes of which have never been seen by the denizens of the dead world 4296-Gamma. Come the morning, a large building with a warehouse full of newly-constructed special pens opened its doors ready to greet intrigued, yet fearful customers.
When you buy a creature, you can decide its exact nature, as it is unlikely any two kind will be exactly the same.
The beasts count towards gang rating and get their own profiles.
Special Rules:
Any beast rider may shoot from their mount, but if it moved then they suffer a -1 penalty.
They can attempt to run over gangers on foot, but this requires a LD test from the rider.
If a Beast is rammed by a vehicle, then the rider's initiative is used to determine whether they get out of the way in time.
Bikes attempting to run down a beast take a single hit at the toughness of the beast.
Large and Gigantic beasts can actually be boarded like a vehicle, though this is quite dangerous.
Juves may not be beast riders.
If a beast is riderless then a D6 is rolled each round. On a 1-3 it remains where it is, but avoids danger. On a 4-6 it runs home (the gang's base or if it does not have one it escapes into the wastes)
Beasts cannot hide, or climb ladders. Duh.
If a beast runs, then any hit rolls made to hit it suffer a -1 penalty due to the speed.
When a beast is hit, then a dice is rolled. On a 1-4 the beast is hit and on a 5-6 a rider is hit.
A tiny beast can never have a rider or carry anything but what they lack in size they often make up for in deadly abilities.
A small beast is too small to have a rider but can fight alongside their masters. It uses the LD value of its master (one ganger it is assigned to when bought) and if their master goes down they will loyally defend their body.
A medium beast is much larger however it is only suitable for a single rider.
Large beasts are considerably bigger. They can have two riders and can also have a fixed weapon attached via a large harness. Anyone trying to hit a large beast gets +1 to hit.
Gigantic beasts are rare and expensive. They are slow, tough and can carry several people at once. They can have up to two fixed weapons attached, and anyone trying to hit one gets +1 to hit.
All beasts have an upkeep requirement:
Small - 3 credits
Medium - 6 credits
Large - 9 credits
Gigantic - 12 credits
If it can't be paid then the beast must roll once on the beast serious injury table. Any full recovery or captured results are ignored. This represents the beast foraging for itself in the settlements or wastes, which is more dangerous.
Costs:
Tiny Beast - 10 thrones
Small Beast - 25 thrones
Medium Beast - 50 thrones
Large Beast - 100 thrones
Giant Beast - 250 thrones
Stats:
Tiny Beast
Pros
Unique abilities
Not too expensive
Cons
Weak
WS: 4
BS: 4
S: 1
T: 2
W: 1
I: 6
A: 1
LD: 2
Sv: -
Puny: All attempts to hit tiny beasts suffer -1. They also typically stay close to one master, either by their feet or on their shoulder. If their master is killed, they will skitter off into the underhive.
Special abilities: To make up for their small size, these creatures usually have some form of special ability. You may purchase one of the following upgrades:
Swoop attack - using a set of wings, the creature can fly and make dive bomb attacks, allowing it to inflict a single S6 hit on an opponent before immediately fleeing combat. Of course, as it is coming right for them, the target gets +1 to their combat score roll as they try to knock it out of the sky. Cost: 20 thrones.
Acidic Bile - the creature can produce deadly bile to spit at its enemies. This is a short-ranged attack that has the following profile: S5 -4Sv. If the creature dies, its master must take an initiative test or be hit by the bile as the unstable creature explodes. Cost: 25 thrones
Venomous Bite - a set of deadly fangs protrude from the creature's maw, dripping poisonous venom. In melee, the creature automatically wounds its opponent if it hits and instead of the usual injury chart, the following is used:
1-2 - the victim resists the venom and continues to fight as if they had suffered a flesh wound (-1 WS and BS).
3-5 - the victim is overwhelmed and collapses in a fit of spasms, frothing at the mouth. They immediately go out of action.
6 - as above, except the victim is particularly susceptible to the off-world poison and must roll twice on the serious injury chart after the battle.
Cost: 30 thrones
Banshee screech - the beast can produce a horrifying screech at extremely high-pitches. When done, everyone within a short radius is automatically affected by this ability. When rolling to wound, it counts as strength 7, but rolls against the target's leadership rather than their toughness. If the attack succeeds, it causes rolls on the injury table as normal. Note, the master of the creature is unaffected by this ability but other friendlies nearby will still be hit. Cost: 20 thrones
Small Beast:
Pros
Cheap
Loyal
Fast
Cons
No rider
Weak
WS: 3
BS: -
S: 3
T: 3
W: 1
I: 5
A: 1
LD: 3
Sv: -
Medium Beast:
Pros
All-rounder
Reasonable price
Cons
Quite middle of the road compared to larger or smaller creatures
WS: 3
BS: -
S: 3
T: 4
W: 1
I: 2
A: 1
LD: 4
Sv: 5+
Armoured hide: MB's have a 5+ save. If the rider is not wearing armour then they get a 6+ save while riding the beast.
Leadership: The rider's LD value is used.
Upgrades: Not all are the same. To represent this a medium beast may have any of the following upgrades:
+1WS
+1S
+1A
+1Sv
You may only purchase one of each at maximum. The first upgrade costs +10 thrones. Every subsequent purchase costs +10, so in total it would cost 100 thrones for all 4.
Large Beast:
Pros
Tough
Can have a fixed weapon
Cons
Quite expensive
WS: 3
BS: -
S: 4
T: 5
W: 2
I: 2
A: 2
LD: 4
Sv: 5+
Armoured hide: LB's have a 5+ save. If the rider is not wearing armour then they get a 6+ save while riding the beast. If the rider is wearing armour then it is increased by 1. E.g. a rider has carapace armour, so his armour save would increase to 2+ while riding the large beast.
Leadership: The rider's LD value is used.
Upgrades: Not all are the same. To represent this a medium beast may have any of the following upgrades:
+1WS
+1S
+1A
+1Sv
You may only purchase one of each at maximum. The first upgrade costs +20 thrones. Every subsequent purchase costs +10, so in total it would cost 140 thrones for all 4.
Gigantic Beast:
Pros
Tough
High transport capacity
Up to 2 fixed weapons
Cons
Slow
Very Expensive
WS: 2
BS: -
S: 5
T: 6
W: 5
I: 2
A: 2
LD: 4
Sv: 4+
Armoured hide: GB's have a 4+ save. If the rider is not wearing armour then they get a 6+ save while riding the beast. If a rider is wearing armour while riding the beast then it is improved by 2, to a maximum of 2+. I.e. Metal armour would become a 4+ save.
Leadership: The rider's LD value is used.
Frightening: So huge and fearsome, these creatures cause Terror/fear checks in their enemies. The riders are also immune to fear and terror while riding.
Close-combat: Gigantic beasts are so huge that when in melee, only they will fight. Riders cannot engage in melee. However they can continue to shoot as they are not in melee.
Upgrades: Not all are the same. To represent this a medium beast may have any of the following upgrades:
+1WS
+1S
+1A
+1Sv
You may only purchase one of each at maximum. The first upgrade costs +30 thrones. Every subsequent purchase costs +10, so in total it would cost 180 thrones for all 4.
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Post by silence on Aug 5, 2014 23:31:54 GMT
Scavenging What`s Left Behind
(The Previous Day)
The roar of the hive scum in the stands and the smell of the participants around disgusted Lucy, but the thrones were worth it. She was nervous though, as she gripped her sword, a decently made broadsword roughly as tall as her, in her right hand. Having just gotten out alive of the ordeal of their brutal kick out, she wasn't looking forward to having to beat hive-gladiators in one on one combat, but again the thrones were needed. And at least there was only going to be one person to fight, she thought to herself laughing.
The scum around her shifted uncomfortably at the laughing, and Lloyd smiled. He gripped a wooden construction beam, the only weapon left from selection, and using it like a cane, leaned on it heavily daydreaming. He thought about the past few days, the quiet first few and then the fiasco yesterday. He was here with Lucy doing the same, gathering thrones. In a reliable way, he mused as he thought of how Boss and his siblings were going about gathering thrones, but it wasn't his place to question them. They took him in and kept him alive and well kept, well until last night, but otherwise in good living for a long time now, the least he could do was help the whole group get its feet back on the ground.
The duo was ripped from their thoughts as the match-king called their numbers. They were fighting solo, but on the same time due to them being new to the arena. Lucy nodded to Lloyd and smiled, it brought Lloyd warmth and they both walked up to the gate of the pit.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Crawn pushed past the man, not paying him any attention now that he had scared the ganger away from the off-worlder. He wasn't going to have his small chance to make loads of thrones taken away, at least not by gangers. Striege was standing up, her hands resting on the heavy bolter reassuringly, and motioned at him before he waved back. Striege pushed through the drunken patrons and exited the bar they had come in looking for work, Crawn looked back at the off-world lady and moved as well to the exit, wanting to rid himself of the foul stench these places brought about. Once outside, the two linked up and moved, without a word, towards the arena pits. Lights and shiny merchant signs flashed on either side of the dank streets, all trying to attract the eyes of people like Crawn and Striege, but they carried on heavily shoving aside the pesky criers and persistent merchants.
It wasn't a long walk for the two, but their movement against the flow of people slowed them down considerably, enough to hear rumors of gangs disbanding and outrageous fights, as well as the tale of their forced uproot from Farville. All blown outa proportion and exaggerated, but that was the way of the underhive, always try to make a bigger badder story than what really happened. Regardless, the stings at Crawn`s pride about the loss didn't phase him, he was going to comeback, and he was going to get even. Some of the locals recognized the duo and motioned at them, as if they were legends, but just the same as stories, they were exaggerated about as well. Only the stories about what the Falcon`s did were reasonably true and unaltered, an that drove Crawn nuts, he hated how strong they were. But without them, his gang would have never captured the base they had, so he couldn't hate them too much.
The criers and announcers from the arena started to become audible over the general din of the flow of people, with the highlights and times of the different fights. The mentioning of new blood brought Crawn`s attention back to the world, as it reminded him what he had Lloyd and Lucy doing there. He wondered if they had even fought yet, and if they had, were they ok. Despite being a ganger, he had a soft side for the two younger gangers. They both had been taken in by the triplets at younger ages and pretty much taught the ways of the street. When they both had learned pretty much all the three had to offer, they strove to make use of their abilities and brought the massive vacuum of power to light of the group as whole. This lead to them taking control of Farville and the whole fiasco following, but Crawn didn't blame the two for their troubles. In fact he didn't blame anyone for the problem, everyone was looking for power, and the gang that attacked was only looking for power. Nothing he could do about that, he thought as they approached the gates of the arena.
Travis stood at the entrance, scanning the crowd looking for his siblings. He spotted the duo and pushed through the crowd and met up with them, eager to hear Crawn`s next move. Travis cared little for the predicament they were in, he only cared to see adventure and thrones, and that is why he followed Crawn. Crawn led to both, and the added benefit of being his brother brought about slightly higher pay cuts, and anything to spend on his now lack of good liquor. Regardless, he just wanted to get moving again, and to a better place than rock bottom.
Crawn led Striege and Travis to a side alley and laid out his plan to them, grins crossing all three`s faces when he was done. The plan was good, safe, and decently profitable, all they had to do was find it.
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The roar of the crowd was much louder now, as Lucy and Lloyd stood in the sandy pit of the arena`s main circle. They were both relegated a separate side of the rather large area, each covered and speckled with debris and rocks meant to simulate terrain. Opposite of both stood two nasty looking hivescum, both covered head to toe in matching tattoo`s and ripped, you could tell they were twins, but one held a flail and the other held a shortsword.
Lucy was up against the flail twin, and she gripped her swords hilt a little tighter with her right hand while she raised her left hand up in a fist to the crowd, bring a general roar from the crowd. She was to fight first, and was relegated the rougher of the two sides. Rocks and metal platforms jutted from the sand, with blood spattered here and there from fights previously fought in the day, she stood in a small clearing amongst the debris, while her opponent stood on a raised platform. She analyzed the terrain between her and the brute, who was swinging his flail imposingly. She was unfazed by the showing of intimidation, but instead identified the best route to even the ground between her and the man. Meanwhile the crowd was going nuts as the announcer stirred them up and pushed them to cheer and shout. The general roar turning to a wall shaking uproar. Lucy didn't understand the hype, she was a newblood in the arena, why the excitement. Time didn't allow her any further thought as the crowd went quiet and the cannon blast signaled the beginning of the fight.
Both moved fast, but Lucy had the edge, as she ran towards a two floor set of platforms with speeds that was surprising for the sized sword she carried. She ran straight up a metal girder and jumped off it onto the platforms as soon as the brute pulled himself on it from below. She rolled when she landed, but rolled right into the man and stumbled backwards, almost losing grip on the large broadsword. She had only gained her wits enough to raise the flat end of the sword up and barely deflected the flail`s spiked ends, but not before one of the 3 ends came down and gashed her cheek. The crowd roared at the strike, and it drove the man to strike again, though this time he didn't expect her to roll backwards and spring herself to a platform behind her, and struck the air she had been in scant seconds before. Lucy landed with grace on three limbs with her right hand holding the hulking sword. The Tattooed hulk stared in disbelief at the girl, but the crowds reaction was greater, as more wall shaking yelling and shouts emanated from them. Lucy looked at the ganger, and then at a viable approach. Seeing it, she charged forward and to the right, jumping off the platform onto a slanted metal support and vaulting off and sailing towards the dumbstruck man. She brought her sword down right as he brought his flails chain up and took the blow in the chain, barely holding back the powerful swing and swords weight while stumbling backward, but Lucy had only begun.
Lucy let the heavy sword fall to the ground and as soon as the momentum from the swing was gone, she spun the sword so the flat of the blade faced the brute, and then rushed forward behind the blade, stunning the man and throwing him off his feet. She followed the momentum, spun the blade back to have the bladed end face the man, and then used that momentum to bring the blade from in front of her to propel her over and the blade under and then over her and brought the massive broadsword down and into the man. The sword impacted with a wet crunch near the middle of the brute on his chest, cracking ribs and piercing skin before sinking farther into him nearly cutting him in half. Blood splattered in a glorious arc from either sides of the sword and in copious amounts. The man was still registering the last few seconds of life as he stared dumbfound at the broadsword imbedded into his chest before his head fell back as he died.
Meanwhile the crowd was just as dumbfounded and almost as quiet, not expecting the girl to make use of such a large sword so efficiently. Even Lloyd was surprised by the ferocity coming from Lucy, and he feared getting on the wrong side of the small girl more than ever.
Lucy breathed heavily, ripping the bloody blade from the mans chest and wiping the blood from her face with her free hand. The crowd started to roar in approval, Lucy paid no heed to them as she sat down in the sand, letting the adrenaline finish its course through her system. She knew what she was capable of, but that surprised even her. Regardless, Lucy glanced over at the other tattooed man and winked before getting up and exiting the arena.
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(I`ll write up the rest later, this last part has been sitting blank for a while, taking a break.)
Regardless gains are
+5xp to both Lloyd and Lucy
+50 Thrones |
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Post by Warork on Aug 8, 2014 10:45:26 GMT
The Doomheads: A man of faith and means
The Golden Gelt was noisy, it was always noisy and full of raucous patrons for as long as Beast could remember. It was probably the underhive's most well known establishment run by the Guild. More importantly it was a traditional spot of neutral ground between the violent gang that ruled the streets outside. The Guild ran a tight ship; you could drink and whore and blow your thrones on chems as much as your heart desired but fighting was strictly forbidden. Troublemakers were oftentimes sought out and taken care of by the hawk eyed guild marshalls who did their rounds around the saloon.
The interior of the bar was smoky and smelled heavily of lhos and the refuse of humanity. At every table and barseat, patrons of all makes and sizes shared drinks, jokes, card games, and generally contributed to the dull roar in Beast's ears. He was seated in a chair next to one of the back walls, a curtain beside him serving as the portal into the Gelt's bordello. From within he could hear both men and women's voices, mostly in the form of conspiratorial giggling. Fortunately though that was all he was hearing, the Guild being a fairly wealthy establishment, at least knew something about customer service and had been sure to supply the bordello with plenty of...soundproofing.
A figure walked through the curtain from inside the bordello, catching Beast's peripheral vision. He looked over and saw none other than his boss who stopped as he stepped out and took a deep breath.
"Ah, shit." He said, emphasizing this last word in the inflection that one usually used after relieving themselves from a generous amount of piss.
"You sure you don't wanna go in there?" He asked Beast with a nod of his head. "Its a real riot in there."
"Believe it or not, I've had my fill of women for one week." Beast replied, standing and shouldering his autocannon.
"Someone call a priest!" Karrus exclaimed. "Ol' Daric here speaks blasphemy!" He laughed at his own joke as he made his way for the exit. "Come on, its time we got out of here anyway. Don't forget the shit we bought."
Beast looked over to the duffel bag, remembering that they had just come from a trip from the Guild market before stopping here at Karrus' insistence. He'd had a few drinks while Karrus went off to "get an itch scratched" as he claimed in his oh so eloquent way of phrasing. He picked up the bag, its contents were fairly heavy but no problem to carry for a man of his size, and followed Karrus out into the dim light of the day cycle.
They had walked for a few minutes back towards North Cirset when Karrus broke the silence.
"You know I was thinking...while we were in there...you said a while back that some old coot had come by the Derricks right?"
"Uhhh...yeah. Crazy guy kept going on about a "true church" and some worms or something. Pretty much out of his---why are you making that face?"
Sure enough, the look of a brewing plan graced Karrus' facial features as they walked. "Because I heard a rumor in there that he had a bounty on some shit or another out in the waste that he wants brought to him."
"So...what, are we treasure hunters now?"
"You know what they say, Beast. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That and the contents of that bag represents some of our last thrones."
"They call em 'the wastes' for a reason, boss. You get wasted there." Beast insisted.
"That's a lot of pussy talk coming from a guy with a gun as big as yours."
Beast laughed. "My big gun might protect me out there but what about you?"
"Trust me," Karrus said emphatically. "If there's one thing I've learned how to do, its take care of myself."
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Doomheads sold: 2x autopistols
1 flamer
1 chain knife
Doomheads bought: 1 plasma gun
1 bolter
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coolyo294
Iconic
Slayer of Demons
Posts: 1,169 
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Post by coolyo294 on Aug 8, 2014 19:19:16 GMT
"Come on Mona, cough up the stubber." Olivier said, tapping her fingers impatiently on the surface of one of the many counters inside the trading a post. A mousy clerk with a crude bionic eye sat on the opposite side of the counter examining an autopistol and knife. "Tona already gave up her shit. This is for the good of the gang. Don't be a fucking child about it."
"I'm not being a child!" Mona said indignantly. "I'm just saying, how do you expect me to fight if you pawn off my stubber?"
"You'll still have your flamer! And besides, I'm your leader! The decisions I make are for the good of the gang. Right now, we need thrones to buy that map and the fastest way to get them is to sell off our extra gear. So quit bitching and give him your gun." Olivier said, pointing at the clerk.
"Fine, fine." Mona spat. "But when this treasure hunt pays off I want a new stubber." she angrily slammed the stubber onto the counter.
"By all means! I'm sure if we get in the offworlder's good graces we'll have thrones to spare to buy you a new fucking stubber. Hell, we could probably afford an emperor-damned heavy bolter if you want." Olivier spat.
Mona simply grunted. The clerk set down the pistol he had been examining, and with some straining of his feeble arms, hefted up the stubber. After an exceedingly brief examination, he set that back down as well.
"Well Ms. Thorpe," he said in a high reedy voice. "I can give you 75 thrones for these items. Of course, after 60 is deducted for the ratskin map you requested, the total sum will be 15 thrones. Now if you'll excuse me a moment, I shall retrieve the map and your payment."
The small man got up from his stool and entered a locked room behind him. After five minutes he returned with a lacquered red scrollcase and a small sack of money. Olivier took both and tucked them into the pockets on the inside of her stormcoat.
“Pleasure doing business.” the clerk said as the two gangers left the trading post. Outside, the twins, Vaye and Jenna, as well as Tona, Akira, and Gab waited for them.
“Vaye, catch.” Olivier said as she tossed the sack of thrones at the ganger. “Take your sister and go hire a ratskin like we talked about.
“You got it boss,” she said.
About fifteen minutes passed before the twins returned with a diminutive companion.
The ratskin was no taller than four feet, clad in the ragged hides os some monstrous wasteland beast. His black hair was so filthy and matted it naturally formed into dreadlocks. When he smiled and bowed to Olivier, he revealed surprisingly white teeth that had been filed down to vicious points. Most notably of all, the man stank so terribly
“Greetings beautiful ladies! My name is Kronk.” he said with an elaborate, flourishing bow.
“My, what a gentleman.” Akira said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Ah, but of course! That is why the ladies love Kronk.” the ratskin said, either oblivious or uncaring to Akira’s tone.
None of the gangers could resist cracking a smile at the ratskin’s antics. He was quite the funny fellow, despite his off-putting smell and fashion sense.
“Enough of that,” Olivier said, cutting through the jovial mood. She pulled out the map and handed it to the ratskin. “Kronk, can you read this map?”
He popped the cap off the scroll case and unfurled the tattered vellum. After spending a few moments examining it, he spoke. “Yes, yes. It is a copy but still legible. See this mark?” he said, pointing out a scrawly symbol on the bottom corner of the map. “Every ratskin map carries its creator’s mark. And Kronk recognize this one. Second cousin on his mother’s side, eh. Very trustworthy man!”
-----------Many hours later-------------
The day had been long and the seven Widowmakers were exhausted. They had spent all day trudging through the wastes with no archeotech to show for it.
“Night cycle is setting in. We need to get back to Grimtown.” Olivier said.
“Many apologies from Kronk, beautiful ladies.” the ratskin said. “Perhaps Kronk’s second cousin is a less trustworthy man than he remembers.”
“It’s fine, Kronk. This day wasn’t a total waste.” Mona said as she tossed a device roughly the size of an auspex into the air and caught it. “This bioscanner is a pretty prize on its own.”
“We can always go out again tomorrow.” Vaye suggested. “We’re bound to find something eventually.”
“Count on it, Vaye.” Olivier said.
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Widowmakers sell:
- 1 heavy stubber
- 1 autopistol
- 1 knife
Widomakers gain:
- Kronk (ratskin scout)
- 1 bioscanner
Olivier, Mona, Vaye, Jenna, Gab, Akira, Tona, Kronk: Searching for archeotech
Melissa, Serena, Bree: Guarding the base
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Post by Dizzyeye on Aug 9, 2014 14:24:09 GMT
Setting up Alliances
Tarvic called the rest of the Unchained up, hoods down since they were in the presence of brothers and sisters only. He looked at everyone, giving a nod to each as they talked to each other, falling silent as Tarbic raised his hands.
“Let’s get down to business,” started Tarvic, hands pressed on the table they sat around, “I’ll be honest here, we won’t stand a chance if we stand alone here, the only people who can do this are the damned Falcons and everyone knows how much ground they have.” He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in before continuing on, “This is why we need to show the others that we will be worthy allies instead of just the normal gang.”
“So those priests-“ began Turos but was quickly cut off by Tarvic.
“Are merely a start. Anyone can kill a few mad people. What we need is better equipment and not just bigger guns,” continued Tarvic, “Aside from the Falcons, the Guild is likely the strongest force around here, if we can gain their trust….”
“They’ll help us out in return.” Finished Meatshield, nodding his head.
“Exactly. I’ll be heading off to Gelttown soon to find the Captain,” said Tarvic, wandering around the table now, “Word on the street though is that information on one of their convoys got leaked. Layna and Shado, you two will ghost the convoy and engage anyone who attacks it. Meatshield, you’re in charge while I’m out. Understood?”
The gang nodded their heads, Layna and Shado pulling their hoods up as they left the Chapel. Tarvic himself went to grab his gear and then left with his own hood up. It was time for the negotiations to begin.
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Post by AegisFate on Aug 10, 2014 5:42:19 GMT
Since the assault on their base, Nikolas had been ordering the crew to reinforce the base, a pair of pipes roughly milled into looking like some sort of crude autocannon barrels, jutting out from the top floor windows, a small hope to provide an element of fear. The rumors of their recent allies running out of town was troubling indeed, the gunshots in the distance evident of that. He had sent Drachen and Wolf to examine the space, their return only half a day later, the news all the same. The gang was gone and the territory was empty, and that was what it had led up to. He had ordered, in honor of those lost, that a crimson slash be painted across their masks. If they were to call themselves Bloodstained Reapers, they would be stained in blood, he thought at the time.
Today's matters were different, a few shake downs happening to form up some funds and the need for some more gear quite apparent. A long trip to Gelttown was in order, Baissier and Wolf coming along, their wounds having scabbed up from the short engagement with the Falcons a few days prior. They kept the masks on their faces, to remind those around who they were, the Reapers stained in blood. Their first stop was the venders, various men shouting the quality of their wares, a few advertising with scantily clad women.
"You, what do you have?" he asked a man at a stall, a variety of crudely put together flamers next to grenade launchers and some other easy to manufacture weapons.
"Best in all the wastes. Flamers guaranteed to work, Nub Tubs ready to thump and bang, autoguns all around!" the merchant enthusiastically replied, the pitch clearly well rehearsed, his body language showing signs of boredom past the feigned sale pitch.
"I'll take a Flamer, and make sure it doesn't leak," he responded to the pitch, thumbing the credits in the pouch at his side.
"That'll be forty of them delicious coins you have hiding out in your pouch, and I guarantee it will not leak!"
A brief exchange of coins and he hefted the weapon on a strap over his shoulder, hanging off his shoulders. Baissier coming around with a suit of Flak Armor he had retrieved from another vender, the scratched off serial numbers from its PDF markings evident.
"Beer at the Golden sir?" Wolf asked, looking around a little bit, hand idly itching at his neck.
"Use your own pay for it, we got what we came for," Nikolas returned, easing himself into the recently acquired armor, the chestplate fitting with the characteristic tightness of the 'one size fits none' principles provided, the shoulder pads going on quickly afterwards.
They spent a short time moving about the market before walking into the Golden Gelt, picking a table in the corner and ordering a few drinks, kicking back almost leisurely.
Bloodstained Reapers Gain:
Flamer (Nikolas)
Suit of Flak Armor (Nikolas)
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Post by Lord Harrab on Aug 10, 2014 16:11:35 GMT
The Black Hand: See who i am, Blade, Body, Soul.
 Eight Years ago.She Hated the Ducts, hated the darkness, the cold air, the odd noises, but it was safe here, as long as she kept alert. the Bad Men couldn't follow them in here. The Girl clutched her sister tighter and buried her head in the tattered clothes they wore, trying to share what little body warmth she had with the younger child. She called her sister, but had no idea if they had any real blood-relationship, but the younger had come up to her one day back at the Home and called her "sister", loved her like a sister, played together as sisters, so as far as the girl was concerned they were kin, and she'd not let the Bad Men take her Sister from her. The Home was gone now, in a flash of gunfire and blood. Mother Malore killed by the Bad Men for refusing to pay protection, so the Girl had grabbed Sister and fled as the Bad Men had started to attack the other girls, hitting them with clubs and dragging them away as the hab block burned. Gutting the one who tried to take Sister with his own knife even as his clubrose from Sister's head wet with blood. This was Home now, this forgotten nook in the tunnels between floors, insulated from the cold air as best as the girl could manage with scavenged and stolen blankets and cloth, their food likewise stolen and their life a scurrying life of ducts and corridors of the Underhive. The Girl was hungry now, she tried to ignore it, she was always hungry, but she would have to find something for Sister if she was going to survive. Reluctantly, she tried to pry herself loose from the younger girls grip, Sister mumbled something in her sleep, The girl torn with guilt to wake her, and once sleep had been wiped from eyes and the terrors of the night cycle dispelled, together they crawled from their little nook. On her back she secured a sharpened piece of scrap metal between loops of leather sewn into her coat, she had pulled off of a discarded and ruined backback, the makeshift sword made holdable by repair-tape wrapped around one end, it was enough to deal with sump rats and give other scavs pause. They dropped from the ceiling inside a ruined store house, moving on light feet and with alert eyes, this particular exit point had been chosen at a whim to make their movements hard to predict. The Bad Men were still after them, The Girl knew it. After all, she had killed one. The Girl Paused, Sister instantly ducking low behind her, keeping to the shadows as they neared the street where lights flickered and people scurried. She peered out, hand on sword hilt and ears listening so hard they creaked, then beckoned for Sister to follow and they ran down the street, flickering from hidling spot to hidging spot like frigtened birls, the Girl in front, hand always on sword, and Sister right behind scared but alert. the Girl hated that, she had been able to smother her fear in light of Sisters need, but the other girl had never been able to do the same and she hated the Bad Men for it. She could smell Tin. the Girl pushed Sister into an open door as two men entered the corridor just ahead, the Girl pressing herself to the wall just inside the opening, watching for any sign they would come after them, the makeshift blade was in hand and she gripped it tighter as footsteps and voices drew closer. A Slash at neck height would kill one, then she'd rush the second, buy time for sister to flee and hope she could kill the second before.. The voices and footsteps...passed by without stopping. The Girl sighed and carefully returned the blade to its place, glancing around to see where Sister had hidden. the area she had found herself in looked like any off many abandoned sections of the underhive, this one was mostly rubble from a collapsed ceiling and ligh from above was illuminating her Sister, crouched on the top and staring at a strange metallic box, dented and holed by bullets. As She drew enarer, Sister pulled the box out from where it lay by a strap it had and The Girl realised it was an old Vox set, she could see the dails and cracked displays, it even had the handset still, attached to the side by a wire. Sister lifted the vox and, still smiling distantly, turned a dial and spoke into the handset. "Daddy? I'm ready to go home now. We're both ready to come home."
Killercat awoke with a start at a bang at the foot of her bed, Overwtach jumped back quickly as the sword blade flashed past her face, "Shit, Sorry Killer." the older Woman said raising her hands to ward of any further assault, "I tripped over your footlocker in the dark." Killer cat grunted, and sheathed her sword, glancing over to Soundwaves bed, but she was up in the new disrict, guarding it along with those Doomheads "My turn on watch?" the swordswoman asked sleepily Ovewatch shook her head, "Boss wants you, she's taking you to sign up for that arena fight." Killercat's ears pricked up at that, "what changed her mind?" "she found out who's also competing, and felt you'd enjoy taking them down for us." "who is it?" "The ones who killed Shortfuse. They're trying to earn a name for themselves and earn thrones in the arena, Boss wants you take that from them and leave some of them dead if you can." That got Killercat on her feet. her visable eye glinted with an evil light and a feral grin twisted her face into a vision of gleeful anticipation "Oh fuck yes."
Killercat, Lyra the Gun Servitor, Siren, Twinblade and Overwatch are headed to the arena in Gelt, All others are remaining at their respective posts.
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