Turnips in the Hive

[trollmeat]

Turnips in the Hive

Following the visions of their Root Priest, the fodder tunnelled deeper in the mud below the crumbled tower as it wobbled unsteadily in the rain threatening to collapse on them.

The stomachs were empty and their fingers numb, the fading light from the tunnel entrance making the desperate attempts to strike a light feel even more futile.

The sun was gone, the downpour so heavy that everyone who could was crammed shoulder to shoulder, digging with their hands to try to realise their priests dream.

Brief sparks from damp flint made the desperate situation only more confusing, but a shout caused everyone to gather around.

In the flickering they crowded around as one of the fodder’s legs disappeared into the mud - they had crawled, slithered, through and vanished.

The Root Priest shoved the Fodder and Chaff aside falling to their knees and without even looking back wriggled through to the strange new world.

The Turnips will be run in the next upcoming campaign as Cawdor/Redemption, which will be a bit of a change as I’ve done Goliath quite a bit recently.

Root Priest and Brutes(Deacons) with Chainaxes and Exterminators.

Fodder(Brethren) with Blunderpoles

Chaff(bonepickers) with Stub Guns(bows).

As soon as I can I want to grab a Stig Shambler so I can use my Turtle(tortoise) Cannon

 

[ClockworkOrange]

I’m a fan of anything that is “counts as” using peeps immense imagination! Great stuff.

How did you make them? Also just wondered why you used square bases? No issue they look great.

How about making a stand for them? It makes themed army’s / gangs look even better!

 

[trollmeat]

They are part of my Turnip28 regiment, was going to have 3 per base for my Fodder but thought I might use them in necro

There are rules, tutorials and art on Max’s patreon. I used Perry minis + greenstuff and mud paint

Get more from Max FitzGerald on Patreon

creating Turnip28

www.patreon.com

There is an interview about it here

Turnip28: Interview with Max FitzGerald

Every so often a new trend grips the hobby community but it’s rare for one to arise quite so fast as what is known as Turnip28. Inspired by the Inq28 and Dark Age of Sigmar communities, part …

www.goonhammer.com

 

[MedMos]

Ha, from what I've seen in your various threads, I can understand why you've got into Turnip28. Good stuff!

 

[Punktaku]

Oh man, there have a been a couple of gangs floating around the tribe that would fit in perfectly with this setting. When I first signed up, someone was making a fungus based gang of mushroom men. And then someone came along and made a gang of plant-infested gangers protecting a hidden tree.

dang, this has me thinking up stuff like maybe a force based on dryads trying to turn all that mud green. Flower Power. Very powerful magic, but completely overwhelmed by the forces thriving in the mud.
Fungus forces would be cool tool. Don’t want those getting into your turnips. Molds too.

 

[Punktaku]

Well, duh…. The mushroom men were @trollmeat ’s….

 

[Punktaku]

This is a fascinating concept, but I really don’t need to branch out anymore. (I say as I look at Perry Miniatures, eBay, and ask the FLGS if they carry Perry products…)

I really didn’t need to see this…. Foul corrupter….

 

[Punktaku]

There’s a new anime out this season called Scarlet Nexxus. The bad guys are called “the others” and are a weird steampunk conglomeration of metal and plant life. They’d probably fit right in with this as beasts.

 

[trollmeat]

The Turnips had their first battle in the Underhive, a 7-way campaign intro clash!

The Root Priest and Brute find themselves in a hostile strange metal land.

Hostile men with metal limbs…

…they still burn like regular root-fearing people.

Strange abominations seem rife through this odd metal world.

Soon the Turnips will be all too familiar with CHUDs, Genestealers, and all manner of other-worldly hostiles.

 

[trollmeat]

The Turnips have found their foray into the strange metal land overwhelming, but are somehow managing some rudimentary communication with the local inhabitants.

Several gangs have been sent down to investigate some power outages that have been causing the domes in the area many problems, the Root Priest showing great interest in this “lightning trapped in cables”.

The abominations are back, also intent on finding the lightning.

Root vs Machine.

This is only half the table, there are two other gangs on the other side shooting and stabbing each other trying to reach the centre!

While we were busy fighting to fly up the stairs a fighter from one of the other gangs snuck up and melted the biggest beast.

Having none of these shenanigans the Root Priest legged it to deal with the interloper.

The honourable actions of the Root Priest won the Turnips a valuable ally, as the two gangs joined forces the other two crumpled away, having both bottled due to the heavy damage they had caused each other (whereas the Turnips had continued the trend from the first battle of rolling a fair few 1’s).

 

[trollmeat]

Massive 8 player scenario of madness!

All the gangs converged to find the source of the problems, the Turnips opened fire on the culprits.

…some kind of strange alien weapon blasted the Root Priest, killing his Winged Rootling and Fodder Specialist (like, totally dead, the Rootling would have cost more to send to the doc than it was worth, and the Specialist died on the table)

The rusted iron golem turned out to be more than just a statue and finally activated.

Surrounded

Purple damned muties arrived to crash the party

The Root Priest versus everyone! Holding ground, kicking muties aside

Turtle Cannon to the rescue! (it took many turns for them to actually pass the Int test to open the damned doors)

Too late…

…with all the chaos, two dead and the Root Priest crawling into an air duct to escape, the rest of the turnips turned tail and ran.

There was so much chaos that the turnips never even found out what was going on with the power generators, or even saw the genestealers or the psychic cat that was causing mayhem on the other side of the table.

 

[Punktaku]

Psychic….cat?!?

 

[trollmeat]

The Turnips ventured down into the depths of the power stack with the other gangs that had been hired to investigate the power problems. What they discovered was a collapsed dome that had been cut off from the rest of the hive for possibly hundreds of years.

The inhabitants had devolved, barely eking out an existence in the gloom, and now they were struggling on two fronts - the Roughshod Security Forces pushing in from the power stack, and the Cult of the Second Son sweeping through from an unknown entry point.

Some of the gangs declared that they had been working with the 2nd Sons all along, and others with the scavvie scum apparently known as the Gloom Wardens.

In the chaos the Turnips tried to flee into the dark, attempting to seek refuge with the Gloom Wardens, as their pitiful lives were the most familiar thing in the world, their escape waa hindered by loyalist Ragged Kin and a scuffle between the groups that had previously worked together ensued.

The Turnips spread out in the gloom, trying to find an escape.

Stumbling in the gloom, the Turtle Cannon’s crew make sure it is loaded and ready for anything that might

Wildly inaccurate, in true Turnip fashion, it take several turns to actually land a single hit.

Meanwhile the beasts try to charge in on the Root Bearer, but fall short.

Only to be blasted by the trusty fodder’s archaic black powder weapon.

…and on the other side of the field, the Psychic Cat strikes again, crushing the champion underfoot

After a gruesome battle, the turnips head further into the depths, forgetting for now their mission to capture the lightning, rather focusing on seeking to spread the truth of the Great Root to the miserable souls who have been trapped in this dome.

 

[Punktaku]

That psychic cat is very disturbing….

 

[Punktaku]

I totally blame you for this. I didn’t even know this was a thing. Foul corrupter of the innocent!
View media item 65425

 

[trollmeat]

I totally blame you for this. I didn’t even know this was a thing. Foul corrupter of the innocent!

Seem to always be corrupting others, though usually to chaos

Next match was two versus one, with the Turnips and the CHUDs (purple mutants) trying to prevent the Gloom Stalkers (Delaque) from rescuing/capturing a local informant.

In true turnip style, the first shot of the battle (from a heavy bolter) cracked the turtle cannon’s shell, giving it three flesh wounds and leaving it rolling around on the ground bleeding so much that if it recovered it would go straight out if action

…seems that Turnips do not do well with webs, with the Root Bearer being tangled up and then becoming the second victim of the vicious heavy bolter.

Stopping the Gloom Stalkers from capturing the informant was vital - they knew the location of the rumoured “Green Room”, which had been providing food for the whole hidden dome for years. That must where the Turnips had to bring the Holy Root for the great quest!

The CHUDs, however, seeing the turnip lines failing and losing several of their own to a tentacled techno-fish, decided that the informant needed to die to keep the location secret, even from their new allies the Turnips. [not in picture - the corpse of the hot-dog vendor/informant]

 

[trollmeat]

Missed last week’s game, but the campaign tyrant did include the turnips in the fluff so here is the arbitrator’s fluff.

ps: …should I edit the tyrant’s fluff back in previous posts for more context?.


INTO THE DEPTHS
WEEK 7 - WEDNESDAY 13 OCT 2021
Lest all becomes quiet.

NebuChudnezzar and his warriors stalked the compound around the power conduit link into the Green Room. It was his task to protect it at all costs whilst IronSkull and his Vigilants protected the entrance. The Root Priest and his 'Turnips' were no where to be seen. His forces would of been a boon in the defence of their most sacred of sites, but they had disappeared.

Both the Cult of the Second Son and the forces from RoughShod were rapidly approaching NebuChudnezzar's position. They had tried their hardest to protect their holy site, from which they owed their very existence to, from the aggressors. NebuChudnezzar did not know where the Cult of the Second Son came from, but fighting an unexpected two front war against them and the Mayor's forces had proven too costly.

In a last ditch attempt to even the odds they had tried to remove the forces of Roughshod from the war through an assassination attempt on the Mayor. It had failed miserably. The Gloom Warden's ambush force was engaged by the Mayor before they could get into position and were quickly cut down the day before. They had no chance. After all that had been done and all that it had cost them, the Gloom Wardens were now on the very precipice of loosing everything, loosing the Green Room and all that it contained.

IronSkull inspected his defences again. The barriers were well made, even a melta blast would struggle to blow a hole through them. All his gangers had their engagement areas and arcs laid out. As he inspected his defences, movement in the distance caught his attention as the silhouette of something large flittered through the gaps in the gantries above. A moment later Drilldozer grunted and confirmed his suspicions. "Boss. I think I just saw one of those Spektor things. You know the one that we saw tear up those Ragged Kin bastards the other day?" IronSkull nodded in acknowledgement "Yes I remember. Don't let them touch you. Their claws seem to be powered by some evil energy".

The nearby Vigilant gangers all murmured responses but stayed focussed on their engagement areas. IronSkull felt a moment of pride in his warriors display of focus and professionalism. As he turned to continue his inspection, his heart froze. Hovering above a platform and floating gracefully down to the ground was another beast the enemy called a Spektor. It was so close he could practically smell the acidic tang coming from the strange energy crackling between its claws that were attached to the end of long mechanical tentacles that drifted behind it.

IronSkull quickly broke his stunned state and raised his bolt gun and took a sight picture of the beast and pulled the trigger. His aim was true and two rounds punctured its frontal carapace armour before it disappeared from view. He dropped the bolt gun back down with a big grin on his face "got you, ya fucker!". The smile quickly dissipated when he saw multiple enemy figures in bright orange trench coats running from cover to cover. The Cult of the Second Son had arrived.

The gang leader of the Quiet Gentlemen looked up. He could sense Vytkor and his erstwhile Delaque brethen of the Gloom Stalkers nearby. Why they had aligned themselves with the Cult was initially a mystery. He always sensed their purity, they were not tainted with the gene stealer cult's disease of body and mind. However over the past several weeks of fighting their purpose had been revealed.

They were using the Cult of the Second Son to ride on their forces numbers to get close to Green Room. Why the Green Room was so important to Vytkor was still not clear, but he sensed it was for ill-begotten reasons and must be opposed. He felt so strongly about the need to prevent Vyktor from achieving his goals that he had grabbed the injured Mayor of Roughshod, thrown water in his face to wake him from concussion and dragged him through the war zone with no reinforcements straight into the heart of the conflict.

The thought of the Mayor made him turn and look at the man. He was injured, exhausted and covered in blood. He looked a mess, but still had the spark of life in his eyes and a bounce in his step as he followed the quickly advancing members of The Quiet Gentlemen. He still had fight in him yet. The loud bark of a bolt gun burst nearby caused him to pay attention to his front just as a wave of crazy purple skinned scavvies charged his lead gangers. The fight had started and It was time to bring Vyktor and his Gloom Stalkers back into the Delaque fold or destroy them and their ambitions.

IronSkull lay crumpled on the ground, surrounded by the broken bodies of his gangers. He laid there pretending to be dead, his body aflame with pain. The Spektor he shot earlier hovered threateningly above him, his blood dripping freshly from its claws. The defence of the Green Room had failed. The Cult of the Second Son members stalked over their bodies, completely focussed on the entrance into the sacred site.

The sound of fighting from around the power conduit had silenced as well and the Roughshod forces had broken and withdrawn. What was left of NebuChudnezzars forces were nowhere to be seen. It was unlikely they had the strength of numbers to oppose the Cult of the Second Son. The Cult members continued, ignoring IronSkull and his dead or dying gangers. As they stalked straight through their position, IronSkull noticed none of them had the strange alien xeno's mutations that were commonly associated with the Cult of the Second Son. Eerily focussed on the entrance to the Green Room the Cult members entered the bunker housing that led down into the sacred site. One by one they disappeared.
He didn't know how long he had been unconscious but IronSkull woke to the Root Priest gently waking him.

The Root Priest was by far the most mutated of the Gloom Warden members. His mutations had given him an outward appearance that more closely resembled the plant life that was contained in the Green Room than his former human self. Over the years of isolation the heavily mutated, plant bearing members of the Gloom Wardens naturally flocked to him as lambs flocked to a shepherd. They were known colloquially as 'Turnips' and the Root Priest had become somewhat of a holy icon for them.

The Root Priest quietly whispered nonsensical riddles into IronSkull's ear. "My visions were true. I have found the lost entrance into the Green Room. Through the mud and cables we must travel. Through the umbilical cord of life and into the naval of the Green Room I have been. I have roused the slumbering ancients beasts that lay there to defend our life sustaining heart. Your flock has been tendered to and all but the most grievously injured are healed. Quickly you must follow me through the mud now and help the ancient beasts defeat the aggressors...lest all becomes quiet.

 

[MedMos]

Well written fluff like that is always welcome!

 

[trollmeat]

This is what the whiteboard had plastered on it when we arrived for the evening.

The mission was to escape through to the green room. We had three tables of gangs trying to escape, each with a gang trying to stop them.

The full force of turnips arrived, and started advancing through the tunnels nearing the entrance to the green room.

AMBUSH!

Turn one the turtle cannon and crew were blasted to the ground by an overwatching heavy bolter, but somehow managed to survive for a few turns standing back up only to be knocked down again and again. At least it kept the heavy distracted…

…while the rest of the gang gets itself webbed.

Retaliation only bogged the turnips down, while the attackers were being hit, burned and blasted with black powder, their sophisticated armours stopped anything more than flesh wounds.

Except when backstabbed. The new zealot managed to take one enemy out, but at a cost of their own life - lasers blasted the poor sod to pieces moments after this picto was captured.

The Root Priest, filled with rage, crashed into the fiend who had melted several of his favourite fodder into ash, and smashed him down to the ground.

…but there was no escape. They could not break through the ambush to the green room, and had to turn back to find another path.

The only survivors - sad, miserable and dejected, in true turnip fashion.

It looks like the next mission will be difficult, we were only going to be able to take those who made it to the other side of the table to the finale battle. One other team did well, the other not so much, and the turnips failed dismally… hopefully the campaign tyrant will be lenient

 

[trollmeat]

Copy/paste narrative fluff from the Campaign Tyrant:

INTO THE DEPTHS
WEEK 8 - Finale
Purging of the Green Room

The Root Priest was disheartened. Upon fleeing the failed defence of the Green Room, the surviving Gloom Wardens had followed him to what he called the 'long lost entrance' into the Green Room's inner sanctum. They had been pursued and harried continuously as they fled to safety. Too many of his brethren had fallen at the hands off the Roughshod Security Forces and Cult of the Second Son hunting them. What was left of the Gloom Warden forces was a small fraction of their previous might. Barely enough to purge the Green Room of trespassers. Maybe the slumbering beasts would be enough to turn the tide of battle. The Root Priest called out to the battered survivors gathered around him with a booming voice. "From here we descend and follow the cables and life lines into the muddy umbilical cord that has sustained the Green Room for millennia. Do not be afraid! You will emerge on the other side, whole and complete. Together with the ancient slumbering beasts we will cleanse the Green Room and rebuild! It is time to return to whence you were born!" The Root Priest turned to face the pit of watery mud and detritus below him and waded into the filth. Within seconds he was fully submerged and disappeared beneath the surface. One by one those who had survived followed him into the filthy darkness, ready to give their lives to ensure the survival of the holy Green Room.

In an age long past, the Green Room had in fact been an rejuvenation centre of unfathomable power. Able to keep a person youthful for hundreds upon hundreds of years, it attracted the wealthy and powerful from all over Necromunda. Over time the Hive Dome that housed the facility became colloquially known as Crucible's End as it was the final destination for those who were at the end of their lives, desperate to be reborn in the crucible of the facility's power. Crucible's End met its demise when the Hive Dome had catastrophically collapsed, sealing the survivors in from the rest of Hive Primus. It had been the rejuvenation ponds that kept those left alive youthful and able to flourish in the aftermath of the destruction. The survivors explored the ruined hive dome of Crucible's End and made do with what they had. Over time they rebuilt. Over hundreds of years, toxins and radioactive material leaked into the Hive Dome. Due to over exposure the survivors started mutating, but the rejuve ponds kept them alive and in time their bodies adapted. Over many centuries those that were left forgot the name of their Hive Dome, had children and died. Generations later the budding scavvie empire of the Gloom Wardens had forgotten a great many things. They forgot about the great calamity of the collapse, forgotten that the Green Room was a rejuve centre and even Hive Primus itself faded from their collective memory. Their tiny little world focussed solely around the Green Room. The font of their wellbeing. Another forgotten fact was the rejuve centre's arcane ability could only be powered by immense amounts of clean water. When it was first constructed aeons ago it had been built atop deep Stygian Abyss complete with water purification facilities that connected deep into the murky expanse of water. The Stygian Abyss was fed and connected to a much older artesian cave system. As old as the planet itself.

Seven hundred and seventy three years after the collapse of Crucible's End the first Piscean explorers found the artesian cave system and Stygian Abyss. Drawn to the lights and power of the water purification facilities high above them the Piscean's inevitably found the rejuvenation facility. Upon breaching the rejuve ponds and surfacing into the inner sanctum of the Green Room the First Piscean warriors explored and learnt of the facility's rejuvenation secrets. The rejuve centre was immense and the plant life previously used for decoration had grown and evolved. The facility was now a lush green paradise, full of trees, crops and plants as well as deadly variants of flora. The plant life had been fed by the waters spilt by leaking cables and dripping pipes of the ancient filtration systems around the rejuve centre and thrived. All around the facility old neons signs covered in eons of grime sat nested above the doors or snuggled in amongst overgrown foliage and flickered on and off with bright green light. Ironically, and now quite fittingly, the dirty lights advertised the ancient name of the facility, the name of the business when it had been used by its wealthy and powerful clientele before the collapse. The Green Room. The Pisceans explorers had found paradise and immense power. A plan was made to secure it but their Delaque allies would be needed to ensure the plan's success. As ancient and long lived as they were, the Pisceans would never need to have their brains and organs inserted into Spektor carapaces as they neared the end of their lives If they could harness the facility's power. With unfettered access to its secret powers they would be untouched by age for thousands of years. Unbeknownst to the Piscean explorers was the presence of the Gloom Wardens that had made the facility's upper levels home. As they explored higher they made first contact and violence quickly ensured. Whilst the Gloom Wardens fought bravely they were no match for the Piscean brute strength of arms. However, hiding from the Pisceans, was the presence of much larger and more dangerous beings than them... and they had been watching. With their primordial intelligence the ancient beasts sensed the threat that the Pisceans posed to their home and jumped to the aid of the Gloom Wardens. With their combined might they easily defeated the Pisceans interlopers. Only one Piscean had survived that fateful day to escape back into the artesian caves. The survivor was an old Piscean Warrior and fatally injured. Struggling to make his way home he made his way direct to the closest Delaque meeting place for Piscean warriors seeking internment into a spektor carapace suit to cheat death through service to the Delaque cause. It was here that the Piscean survivor met Vyktor and it was here that he was given the name Terror.

Vyktor, leader of the Delaque Gloom Stalkers, smiled. Smiling was a rare occurrence to be sure, but everything had gone to plan. He stood inside the Green Room surrounded by lush plant life all around him. His gangers following Terror further into the facility. So far they had encountered no resistance. The plan of capturing the Green Room had been years in the making. Ever since hearing about its existence from his aquatic Piscean ally, Terror, he had been compelled to capture it and use its long lost archeotech abilities for their benefit and the benefit of his house. First he had to find it from within Hive Primus, It seemed an impossible task, but find it he did. The large healthy Scavvie population that Terror described was still there and in numbers he had not expected. The fabled and lost Hive Dome of Crucible's End was crawling with them. There were too many for him to capture the facility on his own, he would need and army.

The solution to capturing Crucible's End quickly presented itself. His Delaque brethren were fighting a shadow war against the burgeoning population of the resurgent Cult of the Second Son, now thriving in small pockets elsewhere in Hive Primus. Vytkor artfully insinuated himself within the lower ranks of the Cult and whispered of the treasures and power awaiting in Crucible's end. A safe place for the Cult to grow, hidden from the eyes and ears of the greater Hive. It wasn't long before his secret knowledge rose his lowly position to prominence within elements of the Cult and within months the preparation to wage war on Crucible's End was complete. The war would destroy the Scavvies, thin the ranks of the Cult enough for his Delaque Brethren to exterminate them outright and leave the Green Room ripe for taking. What Vyktor hadn't planned was the power source of Crucible's end begin to flicker and fade. That's when Roughshod, the innocent bystander, was brought in. Their Power Stack was now to be the lynch pin in Vyktor's whole plan.

The Mayor of Roughshod had returned to the Power Stack entrance with the Quiet Gentlemen after their failed assault on the Green Room and rested. The rest of his forces successfully pursued the Gloom Wardens. He now stood on the precipice of the excavated tunnel high above the ruined Hive Dome and looked out through magnoculars scanning the distant gloom. Although the assault had failed he now knew where his power was being redirected. The Green Room must be secured in order to allow time for his engineers to undo the power redirection without causing catastrophic damage to the power stack. He had no doubt the technology used to syphon the power reached deep inside the Green Room and he would need access to the full facility if they were to be successful. Time was short and they needed to act now. The Green Room would belong to Roughshod by the end of the cycle or he'd die trying!