N18 The Man Predator Paul Black (Black Den Domes Campaign)

[HollisterKanoWilliam]

There once was a huge enemy of the state. In a Hive called Necromunda, there was a massive drain in the fluids around the bottom called the Underhive. Everyone was dehydrated, they hoped to use liquid smoke to cope with the lack of real water. Dehydration was everywhere, because of massive plastic usage. Plastic and petroleum were huge in demand. House Orlock allied with House Goliath. The mostly dark skinned Cawdor who were dominating the entire lower region of domes six to seven hundred thousand were beaten back. They had not enough of the huge money spinning Archeotech Hordes or the massive Tunnels and Vents. Through the nights that followed the Goliaths traded out their vents to the Orlocks, the Orlocks in turn, traded their Tunnels with others. Splitting the Underhive areas in two.

The Archeotech Hordes were the target of raids led by Ratskins. These renegades were in employment throughout this Hive War. The other was the Wyrd, specc’d as either a Telepath or a Beastmaster. These were very good at controlling the population, who screamed out for better weapons. The House of Iron used mainly the Wyrds. Strangely, the Ratskin Renegades succumbed to the temptations of alcohol mis-use. Rumours spread that outlaw Goliath gangs were butchering Ratskin Renegade gangs out in the wastes of the Outland. The Outlanders cried havoc.

This was where a single element changed the war. A young and handsome, scavvy boss. Only equipped with a shotgun and a tox bomb ruined everything for these allied houses. Charging through the horrid arid water droughts and wastes that were terrifically souldraining, this scavvy boss who never once resorted to cannibalism. Became a light in the darkness. He used his chat up lines and his tough tough mutated allies and pretended every time to have just recruited a close combat “predator” level discus through scaly.

This ruse made the other houses laugh. Cawdor could not been seen to ally but the Escher and the seldom seem Delaque came in force and in number. They would not tolerant a monopoly play on the cards of this huge area of the Underhive. Simply put, millions were dying and their was a rumour that an Orlock had hired two Spyrer gangs retired to came back and ruined the Cawdors ruleship of the lower depths of Necromunda.

Simply put, that was very little the Goliath gangs and Orlock gangs could do as this scavvy boss hired his own Ratskin Renegade and Wyrd. He simply raided and gang fought not. But robbed twenty guilders. And they were all Goliaths. Or had them in employ-CENSORED by the end of the six months things got even tougher for a strong alliance fell. In a single night one horrid night.

Four Escher gangs, one Cawdor gang (a veteran), a spyrer Yeld gang, two beaten Ratskin Renegade gangs, three Delaque gangs very small but very well equipped and highly trained fought alongside this scavvy boss. Fought ten Goliath gangs and fourteen Orl-CENSORED
++Transmitted Failure++
His gang had four two headed mutants, last seen with one with wings as well. Plus five normal scavvies. The renegade they had left.

 

[HollisterKanoWilliam]

Years later, the solitude of the Hive was astounding in the outreaches of the far disappearing wastelands. House Goliath had been ordered to be outlawed for their crimes and the helping Orlocks was exonerated. Troubled was the Ratskin renegades that had been hired were drunk and attacking one another in the streets.

"Very few people." said an old gambler.

He picked up his bottle and realised he could make lot of money if he tried. All he would have to do is make up a backstory and betray them all. He was a scum, a retired guardsman from a regiment long disbanded. He had been asked to come to Necromunda as a small time Inquistor's back up and had been left for dead after a serious shootout had begun. His orders were clear, eliminate the threat to life above the zero-hour line. He was never given a proper explanation by in Inquistor. Here he was waiting and gambling, no one remembered him. Or only a few.

"Throw the dice Sparked Vailin." said the owner. He was sitting at the table ready for some final moments with his bar before the night was out.

"I have an idea," said Sparked. "If you bet me the world on a roll of these dice, we will win the war for House Deleque."

"Are you stupid? The Delaques are the smallest house now. For miles and miles. Dome and dome. Go on then"

Sparked rolled the dice, prayed their were no psychic wyrds around secretly to himself and threw treble iron skulls seven times in a row.

"Rubbish! I cannot believe your luck, right their is a guilder's caravan worth of stuff. Off I go, and out get." said the gambling den owner. For it was the law.

Secretly the scum left the winning chit and his voice recorder on the table and cashed the winnings for a bio-booster and a bionic brain upgrade. Then he played until House Delaque won back a huge area the hive. And played them like fools, but employers too.

Very few people remember this take over the huge area, and new districts have been brought up. Various gangs campaigning and their are wealthy Delaques everywhere with secret identities. Including this scum, who could was once a House Cawdor.

The End. Transmission Ends.