Dark Depths Campaign

Draconic

Gang Hero
Nov 2, 2017
1,119
4,714
223
38
Osborne Park WA 6017, Australia
Results from the callouts this round! As much as i really liked the Necromnunda logo tokens i initially made they just didnt show up well enough on the map.. So i got everyone to pick a gang color.. and although our colors are a little confused to the lore.. f**k it lol.

QfDe8f3.jpg


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Next round starts as the Scourers and Bikers play catch up to the rest of the gangs.
 

hottyhothot

Ganger
Nov 14, 2017
66
254
153
Perth
www.instagram.com

Story 7 – The Pain Train (Goliath vs Delaque)

The Pain Train surveyed the corridors peering into the shadows of Old Ruins. They seemed to whisper to him with creaks and groans. He knew the Delaque where nearby, but he just could not see them. He knew they were close. The Pain Train readied his paired stub-jackers and prepared to flush them out.


As they moved from room to room Lucy dropped to the ground screaming “Arrrghhh… there’s something in my head… arggghh”… They continued. Billy opened the door and a shot from a Delaque long rifle quickly pinned him. Billy was ok. With more urgency the gang started running towards the shadows where they knew the Delaque should be. The Delaque fell back deeper.

Another goliath ganger stumbled clutching their head. They entered another room and in the corner was three Delaque with weapons drawn. Chuck taking the lead, shot his bolt-gun downing a Delaque champ. Behind him the shadows swirled and shimmied and the delaque leader appeared. “Look there he is, go for it The Pain Train!” Shouted Chuck.



Seeing his moment, The Pain Train started to run. With a quick shot the enemy leader created a green warp void next to The Pain Train started to pull him in. TPT stood his ground, but the sheer force ripped an eye from head. TPT dropped to the ground.

And like that the delaque disappeared into the shadows once again. The Legendary Lifters collected the injured and fallen and limped home.


P.S. Story 5 & Story 6 uploaded on my placeholder post <page 3>
 
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hottyhothot

Ganger
Nov 14, 2017
66
254
153
Perth
www.instagram.com
Thanks for the heads-up, @hottyhothot. That was a quick encounter with the Enforcers!?:giggle:
It certianly was! Technically Enforcers won as I bottled fast and hard, but I won the scenario based on points. I was Ambushed. But I managed to roll 3 guys to place anywhere on the table. So using the Ambush shitty rules it was in my best interest to escape and get the points and xp. Then I just Auto Bottled and won the fight on points. We have house ruled that you have to play at least one round of Ambush before Voluntary bottle from now on.
 
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campaignbrad

New Member
Jun 7, 2021
6
6
8
The Pit Part 1:

The Bikers peered down into the Pit. The Master turned towards Brother Gumbo "You sure the Van Saar are down there? The air smells of less cancerous corruption than id expect. All i smell is hatred. Brother gumbo cleaned his plasma gun and nodded. "Im sure boss, id stake my life on it." The Master nodded, and put his claw on Gumbos shoulder. "Well thats whats at stake, so you better be."

As soon as they hit the bottom of the elevator shaft, all hell broke loose. The Scourers were lying in wait, ready to pepper the crew with bolter fire. just long enough to steal the caches of credits that were stored in the area at least. Then... well then, they showed their true cowardly colours and booked out.

The master took a round in the belly towards the end of the fight, and lay against a wall, waiting for his gene enhanced form to start to clot and heal. He sighed and looked over at gumbo, who was slowly but surely regrowing a xenomorphic foot.

"Well you done fucked up Brother, but ill take that foot as payment rather than your life"

Suddenly Cuckold Will appeared and shouted "Boss! weve got Backdraught showing up on all sides! the fights not over!"


The Master smiled
"Will, Grab Joe. Go see if you and the boys can show them the error of their ways. After all, The Strain is all."
 
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campaignbrad

New Member
Jun 7, 2021
6
6
8


The Pit: Part two.


Crawfish and Cuckold made their way off the platform, moving in unison towards the rest of the gangs beachhead point. The boys had done well; convincing three of the House of Iron Mercenary Collective to join the vanguard. The three Mercs eyed off the rest of the crew nervously. Something seemed off to them about the bikers, but they couldn’t put their fingers on it..

With his third arm, Lucky Leon threw one of the mercs a blasting charge. The Merc caught it and stared at the arriving arms master and road sergeant.

“What’s the play boss? Move up under covering fire and jam these up the Techno Vikings Assholes?”


Cuckold Will and Crawfish Joe shared a look. Joe replied, “something like that.”

Will chuckled and gestured towards the entry point “Boys we appreciate your help. Head on out to the front, me and the boys will be with you in a tick.”

The lead Merc nodded curtly and rounded up his crew. Once they had left, Will addressed the rest of the bikers.

“Allright allright allright, now that the cannon fodders gone, lets reiterate the play. The Master has made it real clear our one and only priority is these crates. We aint here for no other reason. You let that meat soak up the lascarbines, You get those crates to the lift, or you die trying. Comprende?”

The greenhorns and gunners nodded in unison, whispering “the strain is all” Will smiled and nodded.

He turned to Joe, who was unslinging his custom chain axe, aptly named “good ol boy” The axe head seemed to be welded to a larger than necessary frame, making it far clunkier than it needed to be. Will gave him a questioning look

“You fail metalwork at school or something Joe? That thing looks clunkier than Robichaux wife”

Joe chuckled and looked up at Cuckold Will. “bites almost as hard as she does too”

The pair shared a laugh with the rest of the boys. When it subsided, Will looked hard at Joe. “We all know our job brother?”

Joe stared back, his dark eyes showing no glint of the amusement that had been there seconds ago. “When the time comes, I’ll have your back.”

He got up and pulled the cord on the Chainaxe, ripping it to life.
“Time to go to work”



The fight had been a crooked cluster f**k from the get-go. The mercs had shat the bed on re-conning the zone, putting the crew on an uphill battle towards the crates and the platform. The pits ancient machinery had made quick work of a number of the backdraught Van Saar, but their superior firepower had made the slog one that was earned in blood sweat and tears. The Mercs had worn a majority of that, with two of the three biting the dust before the job was done.

As Lucky Leon put the crate down on the pad, Will assessed the situation. As he eyed off the danger points, a flourish of plasma and las fire pummelled the platform. The gangers managed to duck into cover, but the final merc was not so lucky…with a carbine round searing through his brain pan. It was very clear that things were about to go to hell in a hand bag. Will looked for the ancient platforms operating system. His eyes narrowed as he realised it was about 12 feet away across the van Saar kill zone… 11 feet too far away for him to do anything about. Will swore loudly, realising they were about to lose everything they had fought for.

Suddenly, Joe was there. He stared directly into Wills eyes, and smashed the ascend button. Will nodded curtly, as the mechanism came to life. The last glimpse he saw before the platform rose out of the zone, was Joe charging directly into the onslaught of the hail fire of energised projectiles.


A time later, the Master, Will and the rest of the crew limped back to the access point.

They came to say a quick word of honour to their fallen brother, and maybe to pour a beer down the shaft out of respect for his sacrifice. What they didn’t expect to find, was Joe sitting there on “Good Ol Boy”, waiting for the crew. He was a crisscross of third degree burns and open wounds, but he was alive. Next to him was a box stamped with an imperial Aquila

The master looked at it with some interest “what have you found me Joe?”

Joe struggled to his feet, picking up both the box and his chain axe. He squared up to the Master, staring him dead in the eyes with a menacing look, bordering dangerously on an outright threat.

“MINE”

The master stared back, and seemed to be weighing up a decision deep in his mutated brain. His eyes softened slightly and he clapped his claw on Joe’s shoulder. “Agreed Son. You earned it.”

Joe relaxed slightly, and sat back down. As he did so, The crews Wrecker Delefonse dropped out of sky.
“Boss! The Lifters have set down over by this sectors syth stills. They look ripe for the pickings!”

The master smiled, and turned back to joe

“Joe, head back to camp and make use of the workbench. Ill take care of this one Myself.”
 
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campaignbrad

New Member
Jun 7, 2021
6
6
8
The Trap

The crew set up with efficient ease. Each member of the bikers had a role to play, and each new when and where to execute it, figuratively and literally. Lafontaine divided his crew into three kill teams, Each taking an escape angle and creating an overlapping killzone. Over comms, he addressed his crew
“Allright ladies, The Lifters have left themselves wide open for this. Look at them, attempting to lure us in to set off some childish idea of a trap. Their size and toughness is their hubris. They will come at us, expecting to weather our fire long enough to get into close combat range. “

He chuckled, “They think us weak and cautious; easy targets. What they fail to grasp is our willingness to meet them at close range…”

He cocked his plasma pistol,
“...And the overwhelming nature of our firepower. Time to go to work.”



The battle was short and overwhelmingly brutal.

just as the master had said, the Lifters had kept most of their crew in hiding, hoping to lure the Bikers into combat. Unfortunately their hiding zone was about as elegant as a three year olds game of hide and seek. Between the banging of furniture and shouts over who had stolen the protein powder… it was very easy to map their entrance point and set up the overlap. Lucky started the engagement, lobbing a blasting charge into the group of live bait. Moments later, the larger lifter crew entered the battle, erupting like a jack in the box designed and built by someone with no arms and half a brain.

The Bikers unleashed charge after charge and firestorm round after firestorm round, watching the body count rise. The battle almost turned when the Lifters Forge Tyrant Chuck tried to use some swollen magic on Brother Gumbo, forcing him to overcharge his plasma gun "Betty" and attempt to fire at his own crew. Gumbo, tough as nails as always, fought through this control, managing to free himself in the process. Cuckold Will used this good fortune as an opportunity to introduce the Lifters to his unique tool of ultraviolence; His beloved shotgun “The Party Starter”. Kitted out with incendiary rounds, he scorched the last of the defensive line of protein enthusiasts.



Once the dust had settled, Chuck was left swaying on his knees. His mowhawk was scorched, half his crew were wasted, and he was soundly beaten. He stared at Lafontaine menacingly and grumbled

“allright biker bug. You win. That was a valuable lesson learned. See you next time.”

The master chuckled. “Oh Chuck, you sweet simple child. This lesson is neither over, nor one you will have the opportunity to learn from. But whats left of your crew might”

Panic set into Chucks eyes, as his small, steroid addled brain began to comprehend the words. Brother gumbo stepped up, aiming “Betty’s” barrel directly at his beaten goliath face. Gumbo flicked it to full auto and depressed the trigger The last thing that went through Chucks mind, apart from the melted remains of his face, was a an overwhelming psychic thought:

THE
STRAIN
IS
ALL.

As Chucks smoking remains hit the floor, Lafontaine received a Vox from Crawfish Jo

"Boss, the pit seems to have reset. There was plenty of gear still down there when i crawled up. Worth a look to grab some of dem things i told you about."

Lafontaine, The Master of the biker strain smiled, "oh yes it is. Is your work complete on Good Ol Boy?"

In answer, the simultaneous sound of Joe hitting the ignition on the axe and cocking some very dangerous sounding new addition echoed through the vox caster.

Lafontaine chuckled. "Well in that case, be my guest and go try it out."

He turned to Brother gumbo and indicated with a curt nod for him to follow with a small crew of the best they had to offer. "Get Going Gumbo. Put Betty to use too, and try and rustle up some Merc fodder on the way."

As Gumbo departed, Lafontaine took in his new court. A synth still would go a long way to drawing in the next generation of hybrid's unsuspecting ganger mothers. a long way indeed.

"The work is starting to pay off."
 
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campaignbrad

New Member
Jun 7, 2021
6
6
8
The Pit Part 3

Brother Gumbo led his crew down the elevator a second time. This time, he was determined to learn from the mistakes he made on his first descent. Joe had already fed the crew significant intel, mapping out the quickest and most efficient lanes towards the casket prizes. He had also warned of the Savior activity that was rampart in this section. Those fire zealots had been multiplying in numbers recently, and Blackwell was alive with whispers of the wrath of their insane pseudo inquisition. It would take some very powerful persuasion to convince them that this area was off limits to their kind of redemption.

Joe looked down at Betty, rocking a brand new telescopic lens. Well… she sure could be persuasive when she wanted to be.

Just as Crawfish Joe had advised, the saviours were heavily entrenched. It was a small crew of zealots, but the crew they brought included two of their best, armed with their most powerful grenade crossbows. Gumbo was incredibly thankful for Joes attention to recon detail, as missing the fact that both were humming with the gravitational enhancement of suspensor systems could have been a mortal oversight for the crew. Luckily, the forewarning meant they could set up runners and gunners, using cover to their advantage. Once they controlled the firing lines, Gumbos crew fanned out and began systematically dispatching the cultists.

With Gumbo covering one of the Cawdor champs,. A team led by the crews specialist Fortier tackled the other. A lucky smoke screen gave the crew time to move up into postion, however an unlucky exhaust plume dissipated it at the most inopportune time, giving the Zealot champion the opening he needed to pin the advance. Fortier began saying a silent prayer to the 4 armed emperor as the Zealot levelled his crossbow at the crew. This was it, he was sure of it. He closed his eyes in acceptance of his fate, only to hear the distinct cocking of a heavy weapon off to his right. His eyes followed the line of the echo, as did the zealots. They both landed on a figure standing in the shadows of a doorway, wielding one of the most terrifying hybrids of high calibre firepower and eviscerating death either had ever seen: Crawfish Joe. He smiled and casually said
“Meet Good Ol Boy Mach 2”
Then he depressed the trigger.

Few things can withstand the close-range barrage of a heavy bolter. A Cawdor Champion with a grenade crossbow is certainly not one of them. What was left resembled an ancient dish popular to terrains called Penne Aribiata. Seeing as nether Joe nor Fortier had ever left the hive, this observation was lost on them. They instead spent their time gathering up their caskets and moving towards the exit.

With one Champion Dead, and the other assessing the situation and choosing cowardice over glory, the crew focused on moving the remainder of the gear to the extraction elevator. Joe noticed that the suspensor system on the pasta-rised champion seemed partially functioning, and began to strip the parts he would need for GOB’s next upgrade. In doing this he missed the small detail that he would end up regretting until the end of his days; a slight shift in the air pressure as a zealot pawn ran past his alcove.

By the time he heard the shot, it was already too late. The explosion was followed by a barrage of plasma rounds from Betty, and then silence. Then the wailing began.

Joe moved around the corner, and his lip trembled at what he saw. Robichaux, his brother in arms, and in law by marriage, was gone.



In what can only be described as the unluckiest of timings, one of the Mercs made the mistake of saying

“whats the big deal? Hes just a gunner”

By the time Gumbo got Joe off him, the mercs entire lower jaw was torn off, and he was drowning in his own blood. A quick stub round from a greenhorn put him out of his misery.





The crew returned to the settlement with crates in hand. Lafontaine looked up from his map board, a wide grin breaking across his face. It dropped off as soon as he saw Joe and Gumbos eyes.

“the cost?” he asked

Gumbo looked at Joe. Joe looked at his feet.

A look of sympathy flashed across The Masters face for a second, and then it was gone.

“We are down a crewman. That debts gotta be settled.”



Gumbo nodded and went to speak, but before he could, Joe said

“On it”

The master gave him a look
“he ready?”


Joe stared directly at him
“he will be”

Joe turned and left without another word. Lafontaines eyes followed him out and then he looked back to gumbo

“he allright?”

Gumbo shrugged
“Was an unnecessary loss. But it will pay off in our favour. Hes not gonna forget it, or who did it”

The master nodded curtly and turned his attention to the crates. He smiled again
“that what I think it is?”

Slowly a grin broke out on Brother Gumbo’s face
“Betty’s got a twin sister. And a lot of extra friends”

The Master’s grin widened.
“The work just got a whole lot easier”
 
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campaignbrad

New Member
Jun 7, 2021
6
6
8
EPILOGUE (to the Pit Part 3)

Joe walked up the hab block stairs. This was a walk he didn’t want to make, but a debt was owed. He reached the door he was there to reach, and made the knock he would never forgive himself for.

The door swung open, revealing a tired looking lady. She met his eyes and her face turned stoney.

“Joe”
“Jen”

She looked into his eyes, and nodded once. Then her eyes snapped up to his again


“Is the Debt still owed?”

Joe stared back, and whispered
“you know the answer”

Jen Stared at her brother in absolute hatred. It was raw and animal in nature. Just as quick, her face returned to weathered stone, she called out over her shoulder, but her eyes never left Joes.

“RJ, get your gear!”

A young man, in his early twenties came into view. He had his fathers look about him.

He stared at his uncle, nodded once and disappeared into a sleepout. While he was gone, Jen whispered
“Joe keep him safe”

Joe avoided eye contact, but held up a Boltgun

“Robi was saving for this. He’d want him to have it”

Jens eyes softened, then returned to their steely gaze.
“It’s a start Joe. Don’t let it be his end”

As Joe and Robechaux Jr walked away towards the camp, Jens final words echoed in his head. He curtly nodded.

“it’s a start”.
 
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Draconic

Gang Hero
Nov 2, 2017
1,119
4,714
223
38
Osborne Park WA 6017, Australia
Game 6 Reign in Blood vs Scourers
Toll Bridge scenario over a workshop territory


Soundtrack to scene:


Angel sniffs the air. Listens carefully. Nothing but the slow babble of the flowing brook underneath the bridge before her.

She nods to Expendable Youth

“Use them as bait”

“Yes my liege”


He flips his poncho down and leads a small party of initiates quietly across the bridge.

Two ratty looking scummers joining her ranks tonight taking orders from the young upstart.

“C’mon you wimps!”

Scrum and Snuff suddenly bolt ahead spearheading a sprint for the other side.

“Ting!!”

A projectile ricochets off Fleshstorm. He groans but holds fast. Too stupid to realise or care.

Angel fixates on the little glowing vial attached to a needle at their feet.

Who would use such an underhand weapon?

A mere moment passes and she looks up to see seismic blast spheres crackle and pop on the bridge

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaappp”

Scrum is blown from the bridge with arms flailing and Snuff is immediately incapacitated.

The initiates, wounded and hunkering down barely clinging to the rails.

Enforcer helmets occasionally popping up around the gantry from the other bank.

Angel locks eyes with a bloodied Expendable Youth. He peers back at her and the SS3 who hold fast and don’t come to their aid.

Instead, she turns and walks off into the shadows.

Expendable youth and Scarstruck crawl back to Dead Skin Mask and Warzone and they help them off the bridge.

Angel quips.

“I guess you really do get what you pay for”


The SS3 share a gruff chuckle whilst the initiates tend to their wounded comrades.


wCe9msK.jpg
 

Ilythor

New Member
Dec 25, 2020
6
20
3
// Enforcers vs Biker Enthusiasts! //

“I’ve got something, Ventarion.” Avikus bounded into the Tactical Command Centre – TCC, or ‘Tick’, holding a data slate out, he handed it to Ventarion. Av breath was a little ragged, still recovering from taking a shotgun to the chest and a wall at high velocity to the back.

Ventarion poured over it, and the two of them seemed to enter a pocket dimension from within the TCC. There was a few Scourer’s moving about them, organising rosters, directing patrols, assigning equipment, and assessing readiness reports. Now, the two parties seemed distinctly separate.

“The smelting works? I don’t see it.” Ventarion mumbled out loud, not looking up from the slate. He could feel Avikus disappointment.

“What happened there? Or rather, under it?” Avikus clued. Ventarion now looked up, eyes darting between Av’s eyes.

“Under? The smelting works tap slude from The Falls for coolant – The Last Stand was at The Falls, just befo-“ Ventarion stopped suddenly, like an autogun jamming.

“Exactly.” Avikus nodded in reply.

“You think there’s a cache under there?” Ventarion asked, now staring intently back at the slate.

I know it’s down there, and I’m not the only one.” Colux interjected, having slipped into the TCC himself. Probably to coax Avikus back into the med-bay.

Ventarion and Avikus both now looked at him, confused at how he knew, although knowing not to ask. “None of us were born Scourer’s after all.”

--

“Avikus would’ve loved this OP. A nice romantic walk through dark corridors hiding Emperor knows what.” Mectus announced into the patrol wide net.

“Vox discipline.” Helis spat back, he could see Mectus twitch as if someone slapped his helmet. Helis had come a long way.

Ventarion was leading the patrol, with him, Scaras and Solabus forming the first brick. Colux was leading the second brick, with Mectus and Helis.

They had split into two bricks, and were combing the depths below the smelting works. The Scourer’s had skulked their way in from an auxiliary access hatch, and were tracking towards the service elevator below the works. Somewhere down here, was a cache of gear that they’d need. With the refugees pouring in, they’d need more gear to keep everyone safe – and hopefully equip new rookies. They’d also need meds, and if the rumours were true, they’d need a lot more than can be found in this one cache.

“Movement, contact front, lost visual.” Colux hushed across the vox. The patrol all took cover, almost silently, heads popped up and scanned, trying to see if they can spot anything.

Ventarion checked the layout on the slate mounted on his forearm. He keyed his vox.

“Sanctum, form Aquilla. ROE: Open. Assume package front, extraction with package is priority. Advance to contact.”

Top called out for the patrol to move forward as two groups of three, fire on anything that looks threatening, but if they have a package, to leave at all costs. There was a brief moment where all the Scourers realised that meant someone might be left behind if things went south.

“Advancing!” Solabus barked as he raced forward, Ventarion and Scaras moving a little further behind, covering him.

“Eyes on. Package secure.” Solabus announced as he rounded a corner. The tight, dimly lit, grungy corridors opened up into a square room with doors and corridors on every face and corner. In the centre, was the service elevator, a high speed open platform big enough for two people – officially.

To their right was a large coolant pipe and a walkway over it, littered around were crates and makeshift barricades – as ancient as the rest of Reach, they must have corroded alongside the hope of freedom, only at a much slower rate. Ventarions crew was approaching from the right, Colux’s brick from the left of the room.



Colux hung back, his rifle slung across his back – useless in the tight confines - and motioned Helis to move. Helis rolled forward and further to the left, taking cover, he scanned about and spotted a crate nearby, and gestured to Colux that he had it. Suddenly a door ground opened diagonally from them, and a ganger raced forward, something blue glowing.

“Sol! Down!” Ventarion roared, forgetting to key his vox – if anyone called anything out on it, he didn’t hear it.


Solabus only started to react when the plasma gun was levelled at him, and the blue flashed at him. It caught his shoulder as he dove into cover, his pauldron glowing red hot, hissing the condensation off the coolant pipe as he dove against it.

“What in throne’s name was that!” Solabus yelled from under the pipe, he was curled into a ball in cover, but he was alive – the plasma gun failed to scratch him.

“Sanctum callsigns, exfil NOW.” Ventarion barked into the vox. Colux frowned in his helmet – a statement like that this early in a firefight shattered morale. Fortunately, everyone remained calm, and executed the plan.

Colux was about to unshoulder his rifle when another ganger burst out of a corridor, carrying a marked crate. In one motion, he drew his stub gun, levelled it, and fired. As he did so, he called the shot.

“Contact front – Target with a crate!”

The shot rang out, and the ganger went down bleeding – on the elevator. He was on the ground reaching for the button. Mectus peaked out from cover, spotted it, and drew his shock baton.

“Engaging!” he spun out from behind the pillar and sprinted to the elevator. He skidded to a halt on the platform, and swatted the ganger’s had away from the panel. Mectus looked down as shots rang out across the room, and realised who they were up against – Biker Enthusiasts. Mectus looked down, and leant on the railing with both hands to support his weight.

“You know, I really like your rides.”

He lifted a boot, brought it down on the Enthusiast, then hit the button. The elevator shot up. The Scourers didn’t see more of the Biker’s slinking forward into cover as the firefight escalated.

Solabus found his inner strength and charged his concussion carbine. He sprang up and landed a charge, throwing a few bikers into walls and out for the count. Sol spotted one of them still in cover, and called it out.

“Ventarion, contact close – reference steel barricade, catwalk!” Ventarion popped his head over cover, flinching as las and kinetic rang off the cover near him. He couldn’t quite make him out.

A Biker juve on the left sprang forward, firing his pistols – the shots failed to ring true, Colux had unslung his rifle and rested it on a crate. The report pressurized the room as it fired, the echo bouncing off the walls so rapidly that they all merged together into a cacophonous rattle. The juve splattered against the wall.

Helis took the opportunity, grabbing his crate and charging towards the elevator. Ventarion looked back at Scaras, and indicated for him to take his spot. Vent charged forward up the catwalk, exposing himself to the entirety of all combatants. Now, he saw the hiding biker. Their eyes locked for a moment, before Ventarion levelled his Boltgun, and let off a controlled burst. The rounds thudded effortlessly into the biker, detonating a moment later. He looked up to scan the room, and that’s when he caught, what must have been the Biker leader, leaping out of cover and making a dash for Helis.



“Scaras! Bring him down!” Ventarion spat from the catwalk, he spun and emptied his boltgun at the charging biker. Several rounds caught him from knee to shoulder, they detonated and blew chunks off – but the biker marched on!

Scaras was facing the wrong way, the target to his left, and his shotgun at the low ready, loaded with salvo. Scaras begun an emergency ammo swap drill: He raised it up to firing and rotated the gun 90 degrees, so the ejection port was straight up. He racked the pump rearwards, ejecting the salvo round. In the same motion, he kept moving his hand rearwards – plucking a scattershot round from the belt loops on the stock, he fed it into the ejection port, pushing the salvo round on the loading ramp out of the way. With his arm over the top, he reached passed and grabbed the pump. He racked it forward, spun the shotgun back vertical and hugged it tight. During this, he lined up the shotgun on target – a final adjustment: then squeeze, riding the recoil with practised perfection. The backward momentum was tapped with his loading hand, and he worked the action with the recoil in one smooth motion.



The biker leader was peppered with scattershot, more than half of it scattered off armour plates and the surrounds. In a shower of sparks, ricochet, sinew, blood and flesh – they finally went down.

Helis had dropped the crate and carbine onto the elevator, he had his shock baton out ready to fight. Instead, he saluted at Ventarion and Scaras by raising his baton at them. Helis saw Solabus grab his crate, a waited a moment for him to catch up before hitting the button.

As Solabus took a step, a ganger peered out from a threshold and fired his lasgun. Helis took the lasbolt in the stomach and went down with a grunt, hitting the deck of the elevator with the sound of a toolbox thrown off a workbench. Armour and gear clattering about.

Solabus bolted to the elevator as Colux rained fire at the lasgun wielding Ganger – he wasn’t going for the kill, he just needed him to stop shooting. Ventarion called for them all to get to the elevator, and Sanctum collapsed towards it.

Ventarion scanned as he dropped the empty magazine, with one hand pointing the boltgun upright to bring the magwell into sight line, the other reaching for a fresh magazine in the webbing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something move, he turned to face it just in time to realise it was a shotgun barrel pointed at him from behind a barricade.

A fireball engulfed him, throwing him off the catwalk and crashing next to Scaras. Ventarion was out cold, armour dented in a dozen places, and his fatigues burning in a few places. Scaras ducked down and grabbed him by the gorget and dragged him to the elevator, as everyone opened fire.

//

Mectus was waiting for them at the top, cleaning the blood and teeth of his boot. He stood too when he spotted Helis clutching his stomach and Ventarion being patted down.

“Grab a man or a crate. We’re done here.” Colux stated, and they headed back.

//

“Helis will be fine, underlay wore it for him – a little bruised.” Colux stated as he undid Ventarion’s breastplate. Top was looking around, and ask inquisitively

“Where’s Doc Phelps?”

Colux stopped for a moment, then stated with just the right amount of incredulity for it to seem sincere

“Where do you think, Top? We don’t really need him here with everyone streaming in at Crow’s Nest.”

Ventarion frowned.

*How could I forget?*

Colux grabbed the quick release of the breastplate and yanked it a lot harder than he needed. Ventarion grunted in pain.

“Fair enough Colux – give me a break, I was just fragged.”

Colux looked over the bruising, looking for deep gouges or serious burn marked.

“You’re fine Top. When you get fragged, you’ll feel it.”

Avikus’ voice called out over the med bay, he was calling in from the TCC.

“I’ve got another cache on slate, Top. This one’s mine.”

// Smelting works & 3 crates to the Scourers! //
 
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Ilythor

New Member
Dec 25, 2020
6
20
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// Scourers vs Backdraught! [Escape the Pit! - aka, the random mission of this campaign]//


“I was just saying Av would have loved the OP.” Solabus said as Telio crawled through the hatch, Solabus bringing up the back of the patrol. They crawled through the maintainence way, and Telio replied

“Somehow, telling me that you were right is more important to you than Vox Discipline.”

Solabus frowned in his helmet, then scowled at Telio’s boots as he followed him. Solabus mumbled along

“Ventarion’s baton crawled up you as well, T?”

Telio chuckled, and lazily kicked a leg back with no real force. It bounced off of Solabus’ helmet.

“Keep that up Solabus, and I’ll show you how to use a baton.”

Solabus ignored the threat, and the jovial bump off of his helmet. They got to the end of the tunnel and Avikus’ head was blocking their exit.

“Next time, turn off your damn Vox.” He spat into tunnel “Get out here and watch a sector.”

They tumbled out, embarrassment lubricating their armour plates as they slid over their undersuits. The entire patrol would have heard their exchange. Avikus gestured for Solabus to group up with Ventarion and Scaras on the left, and motioned for Telio to follow him as they grouped up with Colux.

Each Brick of three was at a threshold of two parallel corridors, Colux was interrogating his slate, he spoke to Avikus, who was taking up a security position near him.

“Same as last time, we’ve scoured every part of this tunnel network and nothing.”

Avikus thought about a moment

“Seems our ancestors did things by the same Book… We can’t judge them for that, we’re doing it here and now.”

Colux sighed, putting away his dataslate and checked his weapons were loaded and ready.

“I don’t like it, Av.”
“Praise Emperor there’s nothing you do like, Col.” Avikus chuckled back.
“This rifle’s not bad.” Colux added, eyeballing the chamber, watching as a round slid home, and clicked on the safety.

Ventarion’s voice broke over the comms.

“Enough. We’re getting sloppy. ROE: Open, Aquilla Formation. Crates are Priority Alpha.”

Colux and Avikus looked at each other, there was a silent, expressionless misunderstanding. Colux thought the comm was pointless, it simply said do the job at all costs – nothing more clear to him than that. Avikus hated the comm, it said to leave a man to die if you can get a crate of supplies. To Avikus, nothing was worth more than the person next to you. No job, no score.

Both Bricks advanced down their respective corridors. Ventarion stopped at an intersection, with Scaras on the corner and Solabus stacked behind him. Scaras peaked around and clicked twice on the vox, he had eyes on a package.

Avikus moved with his Brick, the corridor expanded to a T, the right was a dead end – and there was a marked crate right there. He set up his Brick to watch the opening to the left, and called it in.

“Package secure.” He called on the vox.

Colux slinked left and looked down the corridor, it opened into a wide plaza with the service elevator in the middle.

“Eye’s on exfil.” He reported.

Ventarion tapped Scaras to move out, and they flattened themselves against a wall up ahead. They were to Colux’ left, and there was a little side corridor next to the service elevator plaza. They again stacked on the corner, when they heard a soft pop, followed by a hiss.

“Audible contact front!” Ventarion barked, and him and Scaras threw themselves around the corner, all they saw was thick smoke – they heard movement through it but had no visuals. Something was humming in the smoke but they didn’t recognise it.

Avikus bolted towards them, and Telio grabbed the crate of his own initiative. Telio ran passed Colux and used a barricade in the plaza as an emergency brake, slamming into it and throwing the crate at it. His arrival was marked with a display of sparks as metal grated on metal, and he readied his carbine, starting to scan over the cover to maintain situational awareness.

Av regrouped with Ventarion and Scaras, who had flattened themselves against the left wall, and Av was against the right. He heard the sound and knew it straight away.

“Engaging!” He roared as he leveled his shotgun, and fired scattershot into the smoke. Within the confines the sound reverberated, and he couldn’t tell if he made an impact. While he racked his shotgun, the smoke cleared.

Scaras saw it first, and shoved Ventarion hard against the floor. A frag grenade detonated in front of them, and both of them were thrown against the wall as the dove. Shrapnel scattered off both of them, armour scratched and dented, dazed from the blast – they slumped against the floor. Both alive, somehow.

Ventarion called back as he scrambled to his feet “I’m up, I’m up! Sol! Right there!” He gestured to a corner up ahead as he scrambled to his feet. A figure on a hovering platform just whipped out of sight.

Solabus leveled his carbine at the corner and planted a charge just around it. The ground rattled, and there was the sound of metal scraping on metal followed by a wet thud as the rider experience an unscheduled disembarkation.

Telio spotted a figure moving across the plaza and charged his carbine, but couldn’t line up the shot – the ceiling was low, target was far, and there was too much in the way. He was blocking Col’s sight as well. Telio had been in a few firefights now, he had seen it go both ways. He knew that as long as he stayed calm, stayed low, and kept scanning he would be safe, and eventually find an angle to land the shot. Telio watched the ganger level his lasgun, and wasn’t worried.

The lasbolt burned a hole clean through the barricade, his armour plate, and his chest. Telio’s ears popped as the vaporising flesh changed the pressure throughout his suit. He marvelled at the hole, watching the flesh-gas hiss and leak out of the hole in his chest.

Telio collapsed, clutching this cauterised wound and tried to speak.

“I’m hit” he mouthed silently, all he could manage. He sucked on air, but didn’t feel it rush in, his chest rose and fell, yet the air moved through the wound just below his right collarbone instead of his throat. Blood began filling his lungs and his gloved fingers probed as he clutched at the exposed bone and flesh, trying to plug the hole, finding anything to piece it together. He grabbed on something and pulled to try to close the wound, and it tore. He looked at what he thought was a piece of his undersuit, and instead, he was holding onto charred flesh. Telio kept clawing, trying to fix it. He couldn’t hear his vox, or the hum of the carbine on the ground next to him. All he could hear was his heart beat, getting slower, and quieter.

“Telio is down. Engaging.” Colux said flatly, firing his rifle across the plaza as fast he could, failing to find targets.

Avikus swore, helped Scaras up and motioned for him to open the door. Av slipped through it and saw the dismounted rider, and fired his shotgun at him – the target was thrown about from the impact. Out of the corner of his eye, a door swung open and the rest of the enemy gang poured in. He dove as a plasma gun was pointed at him, he looked back just to see the wall behind where he was standing get melted by a plasma bolt.

“All Sanctum Callsigns – Retreat!” Ventarion yelled over comms, as he fell back to provide covering fire, pulling Solabus with him.

Colux worked the bolt at remarkable speed, unable to find the target in the low light conditions. Suddenly he felt searing pain in his leg, and spotted his shinguard had melted from a lasbolt. He fought the instinct to tear it off with his hand, and instead flattened it against the cold steel of the floor. It sizzled on impact, and he grunted as it seared the flesh from his leg, he rolled over onto his side as the fire kept coming at him. He had half rolled on the ground, and was trying to cool the armour plate against the cold steel floor and stay in cover at the same time. He thanked himself that he replaced the filters in his helmet, otherwise he would be smelling the charred flesh.

Scaras and Avikus backed into the corridor, and knew there was a package just around the corner. They looked at each other a moment, and Avikus nodded.

Scaras tore around the corner, firing his shotgun at the ganger to his left. He dived on the crate. Avikus broke right and crouched next to Telio, he felt the blood squelched under his boot and knee as he knelt down, and he knew Telio was dead. Av slung the carbine on him, and dragged his corpse towards Colux. Colux was trying to return fire but he was pinned and injured. Wordlessly, Colux grabbed Telio and dragged him out. Avikus went to regroup with Scaras

A ganger came around the corner, grenade launcher slung across the back, with two pistols levelled at Scaras, who tried to hide behind the crate. The rattle of two pistols rocked him, and after an eternity, the fire stopped. Scaras was unharmed, he rolled over and brought his shotgun up – when he saw a familiar blue glow above him – he raised his hand at the plasma gun barrel when it fired.

Avikus kept quiet as the two gangers grabbed the crate and left Scaras clutching his mangled hand, he ducked in and dragged him out the way they came.

--

“Rare are those among us whose sense of duty serves as a beacon to all others, those whose light chases away the dark shadows within others, those whose spirits stand a little taller than their fellows, and those who, without them, we would all be cast adrift in the sludgesea…”

Ventarion began, the service was held in the mess hall for the lack of a better place – all the Scourers were present, and even some of the hangers-on, people who’d proven useful to the Scourers yet weren’t willing to lay the lives on the line.

“Rarer still, are those who will place the citizen next to them in higher priority, those who help even went they cannot – yet know they must, those who know that a life lived in service to their community is a legacy earned, forged out of adamantium.”

He scanned the room, seeing Colux dead pan – as if he was at a marksmanship instruction session – looking around he found Avikus, cleaning something in his hands he couldn’t make out. Ventarion continued casting his gaze and found Kartole, pale as a ghost, at least one person other than Ventarion felt the death hang heavy on them, and was willing to show it.


“The Emperor’s favour has truly selected those individuals who, out of His guidance, find themselves in the presence of these rare individuals, of either type. For those lucky few have an upwind, which will rise them from the immoral squalor that plagues us all – a north star, for which to navigate against the tyranny of evil doers…”

Ventarion took a deep breath.

“Telio was the rarest breed, a chimera of both types. All of us who patrolled with the man knew that we would be safe on Telio’s watch. Within his gaze, no abhorrent scum would be left standing, and with him at our sides, we knew another day would dawn on us all.”

He stood tall, then looked at the makeshift coffin, soon to be incinerated, commanding the centre of the room.

“Alongside all Scourer’s in this room, you swore an oath to leave your previous life behind – and from it, forged a bond with all who have done so. Your actions earned you a place as a Scourer, and know, that you will always be one. The Emperor protects.”

“The Emperor Protects.” The room replied.
--

// Scourer's got rinsed out in The Pit! 1 Crate and the territory to Backdraught! //
 

Draconic

Gang Hero
Nov 2, 2017
1,119
4,714
223
38
Osborne Park WA 6017, Australia
Soundtrack to scene:



Angel rolls out of her swag clutching at her head in the middle of the night.


The sound of a million voices screaming out inside her brain.


Flashes of a red backdrop curtain her mind.


“You.. You were the one”


“You survived and defeated the odds with honour”


“I give you my blessing. I give you my power. Now you fail me!”


“Weak!”


“Underserving”


“Look at me…..”


“LOOK AT ME!!”


…………………….


“That’s what I thought”


“Fail me again and I’ll eat your fucking soul”


……………………..


A whirling red spiral. The screams fade and a return to the harsh cold floor of her quarters.


Vertigo symptoms causing her to brace on all fours whilst coughing up her stomach contents.


The realisations of her actions hitting home. She did not have the courage to stand by her fighters getting beaten on the battlefield. She walked away.


Despite her tremendous survival instict being the beacon that alerted her god to her presence in the first place ironically it had now become a curse.
 
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Draconic

Gang Hero
Nov 2, 2017
1,119
4,714
223
38
Osborne Park WA 6017, Australia
Game 7: Reign in Blood vs Venom Sirens

Scenario: Ghast Harvest



“Hey Boss lady”


Scrum runs into her quarters before being aggressively tackled to the floor by Seven Faces.


Lemme speak!! muffled sounds..….CREDITS!!”


She nods to Seven faces who slightly release his bearhug on the scummy looking pit fight dropout.


“So my sisters, friend’s cousin, twice removed, knows a guy that said they saw this weird looking fella with a butt for a face and a swanky jacket open the locked mine workings area with a key code.”


“He and this other fella that look like a bit doughnut went in and found a makeshift Ghast farm.”


“Seven Faces grab who’s available and let’s get there before they close the doors.”



Soundtrack to scene:


The Reign in blood enter the facility with the two scummers.


“Scrum, find the scummers and offer them a deal. They can take what they have and we’ll give them protection if they side with us whist we collect some for ourselves. Who knows who else knows about this place or is in here”?


“What if they say no boss?”


“Tell them the Reign in blood will be eating them for dinner tonight and taking their harvest”


“Ah.. yep.. intimidating... good one”



The scruffy scummer runs off whilst his cohort starts the collection of a nearby ghast infestation with no protective gear. He starts singing a song to himself completely unaware of the dangers.


“weeeeeel when I was a boy…..”


“Silent Scream, Scarstruck. Take a defensive position above the ridge with your rifles. Sign down to us if there’s an issue”


Gunfire sounds in the distance.



A projectile ricochets of a rock near Atrocity Vendor and he realises it was meant for the unassuming Scummers. Behind them he sees the Venom Siren Leader poised ready to pounce.


“Venom sirens” He yells


He flicks the high-power switch on his ruiner and runs to a position for a clear shot. Propping the ruiner up on a rock to steady he lets rip an almighty blast singeing the hairs on the scummers as it barrels past them crippling the Siren.


Up she jumps and charges into Scrum. Stab Stab Stab.


“Im heet”


He clenches his eyes shut… then opens them and grins with a toothless grin once he realises he’s still standing.


Snuff right beside him suddenly turns to the action accidently knocking Scrum forward giving his lazily thrown Haymaker more momentum than it should have had.


The punch connects and the heavily weakened Siren leader flops to the ground lifeless.


Scrum scratches his head.


“Well, I’ll be damned you lucky git” Snuff chuckles nervously.


Angel hearing that the sirens are present immediately falters. The gang that has the powers to cheat the reaper. A gang that can stare death in the face and laugh truly has no fear.


It was quiet on her flank. Too quiet. She signals to the SS3 and they dissipate and await the sirens next move.


Above her a unholy death maiden stamps its indomitable feet on the rooftop above. The two snipers that have now clambered along the rickety gangway to the main mine structure turn back to face her. She had expertly flanked unnoticed and had now surfaced to show the complete lack of fear they are renowned for.


Their rifles firing at her repeatedly.


“Bang, Bang, Bang, Click! reload!! Ah ya Fucker! Keep shooting it!!!”


Some bullets connecting, some missing.


The scary Zombie witch still manages to saunter over to the edge and land a shot on Atrocity Vendor. Downing him instantly with her pistol. Snuff runs to his aid.


She pulls a grenade off her chest strap. Ready to drop it on the unsuspecting Angel and her SS3. the light catches it and a faint red glow alludes to its potential contents.


Scrum clambers up on top a container for a shot and unloads his autogun into her stopping her before she can throw it down on the gang.


The maiden falls down a level just skating the ledge and peers down to see no sign of the SS3 that were just there.


She rolls onto her back to see a slender black silhouette with horns and glowing red eyelets in the shadows behind her on the platform.


Once again, Angels survival instinct and cunning governing her actions.


Angel walks up and pulls the shiv she made back in Hive Arcos out from her belt. She leans down and plunges it slowly into the downed maiden.



“Get away from them… You BITCH!”


……………..



The Reign collect their payday from the two strange looking scummers, Scabbs and Grubb.

Food was at her table tonight. War ensemble had credits to empower the Lodge. Their reputation extending across the Reach.


Her god would have to decide on whether her actions were noble enough.


That night she slept through. Dead to the world.
 
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