Brief respite

Rumors had long persisted that the first victims of the Necromundan Plague had been hastily interred in a mass grave just outside the hive proper.  This burial site, known in hiver ghost-tales as Deadwalk Alley, had allegedly taken the lives of more treasure hunters than even the Great White Spider herself.  What's more, the journey to Deadwalk was scarcely three day's outing from Sump's Drift, which meant the list of vanished treasure seekers grew by the month.  Each crew had the perfect plan; the ideal gimmick; the sheer pearls to take their fortune and run.

Almost none of these returned to their homesteads, and those who did soon lapsed into fever and delirium before they could account for their misadventures. 

The burial site was originally an old family plot.  The Rameero clan, lead by patriarch Jorge, had made their home amongst the ruins of ancient infrastructure for centuries.  Their wealth meant that they lived in luxury, made all the more ostentatious by their distance from the hive proper.  This fortune lasted for generations, until one day old Jorge returned home from a rat hunt on a stretcher; borne by the house-servants in a delirious stupor to the estate's own medical staff.  The medicae were helpless to stave off the mysterious disease that had taken hold of the old man, and he soon passed on amongst the weeping, sobbing, sniffling, coughing, gasping, ever-weakening members of his proud clan...

Soon the Rameero homestead was all but vacant, as the myriad servants fled and the family wasted pitifully away in their beds.  Enforcer patrols could make no contact with the main estate house, as the servants had welded the 3-meter-tall main gates shut, and attempts to access the home's communications portal were met at first with delirious ramblings and screams, and eventually silence.

Despite the radio blackout, the Enforcers saw figures moving in the house, staggering between the many windows.  Eventually, the security figures withdrew, after hours of futile attempts to contact the famously wealthy Rameeros.  The proud old manse stood amongst the rusting backdrop of pipes, steel beams, and ash slag, and for years, no one dared speak of the wretched Rameero clan.


However, as is always the case, fact began to mingle with hearsay and rumor, gradually leading to the fantastic tales of walking d- 

"-Dammitall, yer no more likely t'listen teh me than y'are to swear yer own dear sweet ma' was a saintly virgin a'fore she met yer da', ain't ye?!  S'wot I thought, innit.  Well, since there's no sense in yer head, I might as well tell ya them stories are, well... let us just say they aint even a bit o'erblown, as 'twere.

You lot find yer way to the old gates of the old Rameero hivestead, ye'll find an ol'wrought-permasteel gate with the lock shot clear t'bits.  There's yer way inta Deadwalk.

Folks say there's a goodly summa' creds to be 'ad if'n yer could find the first few restin-places o' th'Rameeros; ol' shooters, fancy gadgets, gorgeous ol' gems an' sech.

Look, yeh fragged eejits.  There's summat done gone wrong out there.  Every'n knows it.  If'n th'lot a yer head that way, ya better be loaded fer ursa and have yer wits sharper'n a monomol blade.

If yer slow or an'thin less'n a genius, yer gonna rot on yer feet, looking fer the next fool t'step tru them gates an' marvelin' how tasty his arse looks.

Blasted fools, the lot've yeh.  Only s'much the Emp'rer can do for ye.  It won't be enough."

Soldier on!

Despite - In spite of my injury I got a bit of work in tonight, concentrating on Finn's new OiaM shotgun (a modified SM Scout shotgun) with a potential drum magazine to represent the generous ammo roll situation.

Also, despite my earlier claims of no new gangs, I had to complete my injury-causing project - Malokai's machete, which looks great and has already tasted blood!!  Not to worry - aside from minimal twinges of pain and having to apply a bit more CA glue, no real cause for concern!

Also I watched my new DVD of Zombieland and it was really a great way to spend my evening.

Summary: I am an utter and complete fool as I will readily ignore damage to my person for the sake of assembling unreasonably violent plastic miniature men.

Cheers, you lot!

Holy Crap

Can't believe I've not mentioned that Zombieland drops today.  This will put a big dent in my productivity - maybe.

Either way I will be watching this film repeatedly this whole week.

Cheers, and remember:

One Bite and You're Dead, So Aim For the Head.

Abridged Reports

Hey again!  I've got a bit of time on my hands and so here follows what you might call the highlights of the last match I played at our meetup (22 January, 2010).

The match was a raiding party from the OI-FU seeking to scrag one "Prince" of the Voodoo Posse.  Six Orlock fighters (Seamus, Cillian, Finn, James, Angus, and Michael) had ventured into Delaque territory in pursuit of their target, and finally spotted him atop a five story tower along with another Delaque ganger and heavy Replay standing watch across the way.  Their plain gray coats flapped violently in a treacherous gusting wind, threatening to blow away anyone foolish enough to risk crossing a gantry or standing at the top floor of any tower.

The OI-FU raiders dispersed quietly through the ruins, with Finn and James moving up behind Replay to the northwest, Seamus and Angus climbing to the second story of a tower adjoining Prince's perch, and Cillian and Michael sneaking across the second story deck of a central tower.  Winds atop the 5-story monstrosity knocked Prince and co. off their feet.  While Prince managed to stay atop the tower (thanks to some conveniently-located low walls) but his pal was much less fortunate, slipping off the edge and slamming onto the steel flooring two stories below then bouncing a further three stories to the ground.  He would spend the remainder of the game gingerly attempting to remain conscious.

Replay was much more sturdy, living up to his name as he spun in place, planted his feet, and neatly cut down James as the juve attempted to sneak up along a lower-level pipeline.  Wincing as James was knocked off his feet by multiple high-calibre rounds, Finn braced against the wind and blasted Replay at center mass with a manstopper round.  The Delaque heavy was out of action after the first round.

The game continued with Prince getting unsteadily to his feet only to be blown down time and time again, limiting his effectiveness but also making him a damn unpredictable target.  The Orlock raiders worked their way in closer and closer, amidst the arrival of several Delaque reinforcement squads, and just before they could reach the tower in which Prince was taking refuge, Seamus was caught off guard by a particularly nasty gust which snagged his cape and flung him off a catwalk three stories in the air.  The loss of their leader caused the other members of the OI-FU to falter, and the Voodoo Posse used the lull to take out juve Michael as he reached the dice tower, and Cillian as he attempted to cross the bridge to Prince's impromptu bunker.  This was too much for the Orlocks to bear, and they quickly retreated, losing the day.  The Voodoo Posse found themselves bloodied but victorious for the first time in what seemed ages, with a dead Orlock juve to their name and a captive in Cillian.

Rest assured the OI-FU will be out for revenge, as "Stonewall" Michael had been a valued up-and-coming member of the gang, and Cillian would not be allowed to rot in a Delaque shack.

(OOC) Post battle was kind, as Finn got a Rapid Fire skill for shotgunning, and Seamus made sure to find a One in a Million Shotgun with some shiny bolt rounds for the ganger, and Cillian rolled Inventor.  Definitely be on the lookout for a rescue mission in the future!