TRIBEMEET MANCHESTER UK 2026 (Mankymeet 2)
- Thread starter CaptainDangerous
- Start date
Hurrah for supportive wives!
![=][=SW1=][=](/community/data/avatars/m/23/23644.jpg?1554305892){kind=avatar}
Not sure why all my gangs are themed around alcohol production in the dome?
In
Gang Name: shadow shinobi
House: delauqe
Version: NCE
gang info: we are here and we are no where we are the darkness that swallow light.
Champion Name: Ogyrnheimmer
Gang Name: shadow shinobi
House: delauqe
Version: NCE
gang info: we are here and we are no where we are the darkness that swallow light.
Champion Name: Ogyrnheimmer
Been a while; I've booked a hotel room for the weekend, will be there Friday evening.
Gang Name: Roid Rage (all the way from Yakday 2017!)
House: Goliath
Version: Oldmunda
Gang info: Angel Falls bred Roid Rage. Forged in a dome split in two by the Great Quake, where an underhive sump river hurls itself over a jagged precipice into the toxic Sludge Sea and the wind howls through broken superstructure day and night. In the shadow of the Falls and along the Precipice lifts, only the hardest survive. Roid Rage grew up among collapsing gantries, rusted bulkheads and half looted vaults exposed by seismic violence. They drank in Silvertown’s dockside holes, fought in the smog choked ruins of the Edge, and learned early that anything not nailed down would eventually fall into the sludge. In Angel Falls, hesitation meant drowning - in toxin, in debt, or in blood.
They are Goliaths in the purest sense. Loud, direct, contemptuous of subtlety. War Bastard leads from the front, barking orders over the roar of industrial wind, revving chainsword teeth before the enemy has finished reloading. His lieutenants answer to names like Boiler, Meathook and Tank, and they favour the honest language of cleavers, chains and point blank fire. They close distance relentlessly, using cover only as a stepping stone to the next charge. Even their youngest prove patient in a brutal way - a juve willing to stalk through crossfire for an entire engagement just to place a single decisive blast.
They mock their enemies openly, laugh under fire, and treat survival as proof of superiority rather than luck.
When a recent quake tore open new tunnels beneath Angel Falls, Roid Rage were among the first to push into the exposed territory. Amid the gale force winds ripping through severed air intakes, they seized and fortified a newly revealed drinking den along the Precipice, converting it into the Windy Hole. Crude, deafening and perpetually blasted by cross currents, it is perfectly suited to its owners.
From there their ambitions have widened. Whether by sump barge across the Sludge Sea, by illicit passage through Stanchion Island’s outlaw trade routes, or by forcing a way up ancient maintenance shafts toward higher levels of Hive Primus, Roid Rage have now emerged in Mankfester dome. They arrive as products of Angel Falls - quake hardened, wind scoured, and entirely convinced that whatever territory they stand on is theirs by right of strength.
THUNDERCUBE! Champion Name: War Bastard
[Optional] other games you might want to play over the weekend: Blood Bowl/Blood Bowl 7's/Dungeonbowl
House: Goliath
Version: Oldmunda
Gang info: Angel Falls bred Roid Rage. Forged in a dome split in two by the Great Quake, where an underhive sump river hurls itself over a jagged precipice into the toxic Sludge Sea and the wind howls through broken superstructure day and night. In the shadow of the Falls and along the Precipice lifts, only the hardest survive. Roid Rage grew up among collapsing gantries, rusted bulkheads and half looted vaults exposed by seismic violence. They drank in Silvertown’s dockside holes, fought in the smog choked ruins of the Edge, and learned early that anything not nailed down would eventually fall into the sludge. In Angel Falls, hesitation meant drowning - in toxin, in debt, or in blood.
They are Goliaths in the purest sense. Loud, direct, contemptuous of subtlety. War Bastard leads from the front, barking orders over the roar of industrial wind, revving chainsword teeth before the enemy has finished reloading. His lieutenants answer to names like Boiler, Meathook and Tank, and they favour the honest language of cleavers, chains and point blank fire. They close distance relentlessly, using cover only as a stepping stone to the next charge. Even their youngest prove patient in a brutal way - a juve willing to stalk through crossfire for an entire engagement just to place a single decisive blast.
They mock their enemies openly, laugh under fire, and treat survival as proof of superiority rather than luck.
When a recent quake tore open new tunnels beneath Angel Falls, Roid Rage were among the first to push into the exposed territory. Amid the gale force winds ripping through severed air intakes, they seized and fortified a newly revealed drinking den along the Precipice, converting it into the Windy Hole. Crude, deafening and perpetually blasted by cross currents, it is perfectly suited to its owners.
From there their ambitions have widened. Whether by sump barge across the Sludge Sea, by illicit passage through Stanchion Island’s outlaw trade routes, or by forcing a way up ancient maintenance shafts toward higher levels of Hive Primus, Roid Rage have now emerged in Mankfester dome. They arrive as products of Angel Falls - quake hardened, wind scoured, and entirely convinced that whatever territory they stand on is theirs by right of strength.
THUNDERCUBE! Champion Name: War Bastard
[Optional] other games you might want to play over the weekend: Blood Bowl/Blood Bowl 7's/Dungeonbowl
How much experience do you have playing, because I have very little? I just have some miniatures and a lot of nostalgia.
Should we make a new thread?
I used to be regular over at the Conclave.
Some of my collection:
Some of my collection:
Trolls in for the weekend - I’ll update this with more deets later.
I’m just going to stay the Saturday night but come over extra early Saturday morning. I’m only going to bring the upgraded/revamped THUNDERCUBE but it will be a fully playable table by that point (Trolls deformed webbed fingers crossed).
Edit 1:
Much later, hmmm I seem to have angered the traitorous wedding betrayer Clone already! Muhahhhahha.
Gang: Yaktribe
House: Orlock
Version? Hack spit the only version worth playing!: NCE
THUNDERCUBE: Mad Robot
Edit 2:
Fluff:
In the shadowed underhive of Necromunda, where the hum of ancient machinery drowned out the screams of the dying, a gang known only as YakTribe prowled the sump-choked tunnels and scrap-heaps of Hive Primus.
They were no house loyalists, no gleaming Van Saar tech-priests or hulking Goliath brutes. They were something stranger: a motley warband forged from the outcasts, the forum-dwellers, the endless arguers and roster-tweakers who had once gathered in the flickering light of distant data-slates to debate rules, share paint schemes, and curse bad dice rolls. Somehow, in the grimdark sprawl of the hive, those digital ghosts had taken flesh! neither Human or Beast something stranger more bovine, scarred, augmented, and armed to the teeth.
Edit 3 - hopefully this keeps that damn Clone happy.
Bovine power!
I’m just going to stay the Saturday night but come over extra early Saturday morning. I’m only going to bring the upgraded/revamped THUNDERCUBE but it will be a fully playable table by that point (Trolls deformed webbed fingers crossed).
Edit 1:
Much later, hmmm I seem to have angered the traitorous wedding betrayer Clone already! Muhahhhahha.
Gang: Yaktribe
House: Orlock
Version? Hack spit the only version worth playing!: NCE
THUNDERCUBE: Mad Robot
Edit 2:
Fluff:
In the shadowed underhive of Necromunda, where the hum of ancient machinery drowned out the screams of the dying, a gang known only as YakTribe prowled the sump-choked tunnels and scrap-heaps of Hive Primus.
They were no house loyalists, no gleaming Van Saar tech-priests or hulking Goliath brutes. They were something stranger: a motley warband forged from the outcasts, the forum-dwellers, the endless arguers and roster-tweakers who had once gathered in the flickering light of distant data-slates to debate rules, share paint schemes, and curse bad dice rolls. Somehow, in the grimdark sprawl of the hive, those digital ghosts had taken flesh! neither Human or Beast something stranger more bovine, scarred, augmented, and armed to the teeth.
Edit 3 - hopefully this keeps that damn Clone happy.
Bovine power!
It’s the more deets that secures the place!
Space is a limiting factor unfortunately and I’ll have to say no eventually to someone, so get typing troll!
Space is a limiting factor unfortunately and I’ll have to say no eventually to someone, so get typing troll!
I suppose I need to include a gang for my wife then.
Gang: Maximus Firepower ( unless I get my Orlocks painted in time)
House: Van Saar
Version: old munda
Extremely unlucky adventurers with a bad habit of sending everyone to the Thundercube.
Iv updated the ‘Gangs of Mankfester‘ in the opening posts, but WOW WEE!!!
Thanks so much for your enthusiasm my beloved tribe brethren!!!
Like,we still havnt come up with a theme yet, but the new goal is to make sure Mancinventor gets more than one game in!
*a long awaited rimmer salute*
Thanks so much for your enthusiasm my beloved tribe brethren!!!
Like,we still havnt come up with a theme yet, but the new goal is to make sure Mancinventor gets more than one game in!
*a long awaited rimmer salute*
You also need to make THUNDERCUBE! Champion names for you both and create a Yaktribe account for her (even if just as a token gesture). If she wins, there’s absolutely no way I’m writing her up as Trafalgar laws Wife!!
....@trafalgarwarswife is completely acceptable however
Gang Name: Copper Heads
House: Delaque
Version: the best one
gang info: Dallas Stoudenmire has heard that a clone of his arch nemesis, Captain Dangerous, is setting up in Mankfester. Honour and pride, but mostly spite have led to Dallas rounding up the boys and heading for Mankfester. Several times he has had to explain to his lads that the fact that his crush, the mighty Moira has been seen in town has absolutely nothing to do with it!
THUNDERCUBE! Champion Name: Dallas has secured ownership of the prior THUNDERCUBE! champion and general close combat blender ZAPAN!
Bfg, inquisitor and frostgrave (possibly warmaster) are also happening
Ps, if anyone can handle an 8 times gold medalist snorer then we can split the hotel room bill?
House: Delaque
Version: the best one
gang info: Dallas Stoudenmire has heard that a clone of his arch nemesis, Captain Dangerous, is setting up in Mankfester. Honour and pride, but mostly spite have led to Dallas rounding up the boys and heading for Mankfester. Several times he has had to explain to his lads that the fact that his crush, the mighty Moira has been seen in town has absolutely nothing to do with it!
THUNDERCUBE! Champion Name: Dallas has secured ownership of the prior THUNDERCUBE! champion and general close combat blender ZAPAN!
Bfg, inquisitor and frostgrave (possibly warmaster) are also happening
Ps, if anyone can handle an 8 times gold medalist snorer then we can split the hotel room bill?
Last edited:
Only One place left yaks!
Also, starting from when the last place goes, I’ll be keeping a reserves list, so if any attending yak drops out at any point, then it’ll be offered to the reserve list priority. You never know?
Also, starting from when the last place goes, I’ll be keeping a reserves list, so if any attending yak drops out at any point, then it’ll be offered to the reserve list priority. You never know?
Hmmm whilst the shinny husk of Zapan has been found alas his advanced combat data slates seem to be corrupted…..he is now a mere chopping vegetable.
PSA - If anyone is finding the hotel room a bit steep I checked AirBNB and there's a nearby place (literally around the corner) with private rooms in a big house that's about half the price.
Yep! Definitely sounds like you are the one to take charge of the Inquisitor game. If you want the position, that is. Otherwise I can do it. I just won’t be bringing any expertise to the role.I used to be regular over at the Conclave.
Some of my collection:
And nice warband.
Angel Falls bred brutality as naturally as the Sludge Sea bred fumes. A dome split by the Great Quake, half dropped into darkness, fortunes made and lost along the Precipice and The Falls. Roid Rage had thrived there, carving out The Windy Hole and a reputation for loud violence and louder leadership.
Which made what Juve Smallsack had done all the more suicidal.
The Thunder Cube screencast flickered on the wall of d'Afungo's back room. Names scrolled in cracked green lumen. Gangs. Champions. Blood promises logged and sealed. There in green and black listed under the Roid Rage entry:
CHAMPION - WAR BASTARD
The room went quiet.
War Bastard stared at the screen, jaw flexing. Veins stood out like cables in his neck. Around him, Tank found something fascinating on the floor. Meathook stopped mid swig. Even 8 Ball, stitches still fresh from Crom’s table, said nothing.
Smallsack shuffled forward, clutching a bent dataslate. Thin. Scrotty little beard. Eyes too big for his skull.
“I, uh… I done the entry, Boss. Like you said. Thunder Cube. Big stage. I put in-”
War Bastard moved before the words finished. He crossed the room in three strides and backhanded the juve hard enough to spin him into a table. Bottles shattered. Smallsack hit the deck in a spray of cheap rotgut.
“YOU WEEDY LITTLE SCAB!” War Bastard roared, voice thick and jagged, all clipped bark and street filth. “I TOLD YA TO HIRE A PIT SLAVE. SUMMINK WOT CAN DIE PROPER. NOT ME!”
Smallsack tried to crawl. War Bastard planted a boot between his shoulders and drove him flat.
“This Thunder Cube’s fer glory, fer creds, fer show. Not fer me standin’ on a stage while every sump brained hero in this excuse fer a dome takes a swing at me skull!”
He hauled the juve up by the collar and headbutted him. Blood sprayed across the lumen screen.
“You think I got time fer admin, eh? Think I’m queuein’ up like some Silvertown chem rat?”
Another kick. Ribs this time. Measured. Educational. Smallsack wheezed. “I thought… champion means… you’re the best…”.
War Bastard laughed. Short. Ugly. Amused. “Course I’m the best. That ain’t the point.”
He crouched, grabbed the juve’s ear and twisted until Smallsack screamed. “Point is I don’t fight fer other scum’s entertainment unless I choose it. I don’t get locked in no cube unless it’s me doin’ the lockin’. You just signed me up like some hired brute.”
He shoved the juve away. Smallsack hit the wall and slid down, clutching his side. War Bastard turned to the gang. “Which one of you halfwits is voluntereering to babysit 'Sack?”
Silence.
8 Ball met his gaze, eyes a little too sharp, a little too fast since the Permaslaught 5000 settled in his skull. War Bastard pointed at him. “Not you. You’re twitchy enough as it is.” He jabbed a finger at Rockfist. “You’re goin’. You got a brain what works and you don’t wet yerself at a dataslate.”
Rockfist nodded once.
“March down to them Thunder Cube organisers. Tell ’em Roid Rage is fieldin’ a proper entry. Pit slave. Big. Loud. Disposable.” He glanced at Smallsack, who was trying not to cough blood. “You’re payin’ the creds from yer share. And if that slave dies too quick, I’m puttin’ you in the next bracket.”
---
tl;dr - if I've understood correctly (this time) please swap my Thundercube champion for a pit slave - Liability Unit 404 - instead of my actual gang leader.
Which made what Juve Smallsack had done all the more suicidal.
The Thunder Cube screencast flickered on the wall of d'Afungo's back room. Names scrolled in cracked green lumen. Gangs. Champions. Blood promises logged and sealed. There in green and black listed under the Roid Rage entry:
CHAMPION - WAR BASTARD
The room went quiet.
War Bastard stared at the screen, jaw flexing. Veins stood out like cables in his neck. Around him, Tank found something fascinating on the floor. Meathook stopped mid swig. Even 8 Ball, stitches still fresh from Crom’s table, said nothing.
Smallsack shuffled forward, clutching a bent dataslate. Thin. Scrotty little beard. Eyes too big for his skull.
“I, uh… I done the entry, Boss. Like you said. Thunder Cube. Big stage. I put in-”
War Bastard moved before the words finished. He crossed the room in three strides and backhanded the juve hard enough to spin him into a table. Bottles shattered. Smallsack hit the deck in a spray of cheap rotgut.
“YOU WEEDY LITTLE SCAB!” War Bastard roared, voice thick and jagged, all clipped bark and street filth. “I TOLD YA TO HIRE A PIT SLAVE. SUMMINK WOT CAN DIE PROPER. NOT ME!”
Smallsack tried to crawl. War Bastard planted a boot between his shoulders and drove him flat.
“This Thunder Cube’s fer glory, fer creds, fer show. Not fer me standin’ on a stage while every sump brained hero in this excuse fer a dome takes a swing at me skull!”
He hauled the juve up by the collar and headbutted him. Blood sprayed across the lumen screen.
“You think I got time fer admin, eh? Think I’m queuein’ up like some Silvertown chem rat?”
Another kick. Ribs this time. Measured. Educational. Smallsack wheezed. “I thought… champion means… you’re the best…”.
War Bastard laughed. Short. Ugly. Amused. “Course I’m the best. That ain’t the point.”
He crouched, grabbed the juve’s ear and twisted until Smallsack screamed. “Point is I don’t fight fer other scum’s entertainment unless I choose it. I don’t get locked in no cube unless it’s me doin’ the lockin’. You just signed me up like some hired brute.”
He shoved the juve away. Smallsack hit the wall and slid down, clutching his side. War Bastard turned to the gang. “Which one of you halfwits is voluntereering to babysit 'Sack?”
Silence.
8 Ball met his gaze, eyes a little too sharp, a little too fast since the Permaslaught 5000 settled in his skull. War Bastard pointed at him. “Not you. You’re twitchy enough as it is.” He jabbed a finger at Rockfist. “You’re goin’. You got a brain what works and you don’t wet yerself at a dataslate.”
Rockfist nodded once.
“March down to them Thunder Cube organisers. Tell ’em Roid Rage is fieldin’ a proper entry. Pit slave. Big. Loud. Disposable.” He glanced at Smallsack, who was trying not to cough blood. “You’re payin’ the creds from yer share. And if that slave dies too quick, I’m puttin’ you in the next bracket.”
---
tl;dr - if I've understood correctly (this time) please swap my Thundercube champion for a pit slave - Liability Unit 404 - instead of my actual gang leader.
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