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Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

I'm going to give this one another shot but this time not be so wired about the style I'm writing it. Hopefully it'll be easier to follow and more fun to read. Let me know if you dig it and I'll keep working on it.

Necromunda- The Faithful Few -Part 1: Nothing to Lose

I never was a religious man, least-wise, I never used to be. I mean, when the Redemptor Priests would hold their big tent revivals and we'd all sit cross legged on the ferrocrete floor hearin' about the Big E fightin' the ruinous powers an' his big golden throne an' all that, well we'd've quoted chapter'n verse for a fistful of sweet things... An' I guess we believed it all well enough too.

But 'taint the same when you're grown. You know how those things is paid for, the showy robes and golden masks, an' the Dexes so fat you dont know if they're fer readin' or fer climbin'. Its all money, heck the tents and the sweets too! It were all paid for at gun point. Stolen off'a us poor slobs. They taxed our faith to the bone while at the same time they indoctrinated us kids. Makin' darn sure they'd never run out of faithful little Cawdor settlers to leech off of.

Scaremongers and quacks and glory hogs. They used to be anyhow... Now, I dunno. Seems they don't even wheel out the priests and the tents no more. Don't preach no glory to try'n cover up their gak-stink. It's just gold-masked goons that roam the Cawdor settlements in packs. Extorting protection money.

Course Ol' Boneless ponies up every time. He's a weak willed sonovagun. They know there's no fight in him. Thinks he's doin' right by us I s'pose. Thinks he's keepin' the peace. But I dunno. The more they take... well, things don't get no better. Stuff breaks down, water stills, homes, families. There's no peace when your only choice is between the Custodes cells an' the street. Street ain't no kinda life in the Underhive. But I seen 'nuf dyin' 'round here to get to thinkin'...

They're killin' us, just slow and sure. Livin' here's gettin' to be like just goin' an' lyin' down in yer own grave. That's why I've gotta do this. There just ain't no other way. It won't be pretty an' it sure as death won't make no peace.

But this here settlement used ta be worth a damn, Marty! You remember? Time was we used to sing... used to shot cards an' smoke. You used to serve real booze, like over the counter, I mean.
Now... hell... Half'o folks is too scared to even step foot it the 'Smokin' Barrel' these days. Most'll sell you out soon as lookit you. This town just ain't got no heart now they ripped it outa us. Don't no one care it all comes burning down. We just ain't got nuthin' more to lose.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2017/12/15 21:39:06


   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Part 2: The Day the Deal Went Down.

I found them doin' the deal right there in the Sanctorum. No shame, I tell ya. Creds in hand and bare faces on show. I darn near gunned 'em all down right there a'fore the alter. Not that it makes much difference now I s'pose.

Well I sat back in the shadows and bit my tongue, knuckles white on the woodwork, all sweaty an' cold. They was countin' up. Pocketed the loot in their robes and turned to leave. I kept the old head down like I were prayin', and I'll confess maybe it weren't no act. I listened to their steely boots a'ringin' off the tiles as they walked on past. An' Old Boneless is blubbin' up there by the dais, I let him weep, weren't nobody listening.

Thing about waring a big hood an' a gold mask is you can't see gak. I just slipped out right behind them two sanctimonious thugs, sleekit as a Ratskin, two hammers already cocked. An' I don't care how heavy yer robes are nob'dy's getting up from a point blank stubgun to the back of the skull.

I emptied 'em both right there on the Sanctorum steps. Marty remembers, she were there. One of their masks hit the deck right a'fore her feet, all slick an' covered in... Well, I mean it were a mess. She di'nt even flinch, I swear she jus' nodded cool as ya like an' looked at me so much as ta say "Boy you gone an' did it now." She's a tough mama is our Marty.

I dunno what I expected, screamin' maybe or sirens or something but people jes shrugged an' went on about their business, like two dead redemptionists bloodyin' up the plaza ain't nuthin'. But they all knew the score.

I hit The Smokin' Barrel Tavern with the creds within the hour and the place was buzzin'. We all drank our fill on the redemption's tab. Not often we have the chance to really let go, see? The Redemption likes to keep us poor. Its true what they say, you know, 'bout how prejudice burns all the brighter when its all you got to burn. I saw a lot of good in them folks that night, in ones as usually got a lot of hate in 'em. More'n one pat on the back told me I'd done what everyone was a'hoping but I could see the fear still in the back of their eyes. Heck I felt it too and the party turned to panic soon enough.

News travels faster than plague virus down here in the underhive an' people was packin' their things an' hightailin' it outa town. Them as had someplace to go anyhow. Me, I was for arming folks and stickin' to our guns. When Marty took the old twelve gauge shotgun out from behind the bar it were like a sign fer the rest. Pretty soon guns an' knives an' cocktails was appearing outa the woodwork all over. I couldn't hardly believe we'd had 'em all this time.

They'd come for us, we knew that for sure but we knew these streets and we had a belly full of liquor an' resolve. If we'd only had the time to prepare... Guess we'd had all the time we needed, but we'd never had the heart for it til now. Til it were too late.

notes:
[spoiler] Hi folks, thanks for reading my Necromunda story. It's not changed much from my first version so far, part 3 will be similar and then its Part 4 and onward that I'm really rewriting. If you're having trouble following Casy's (that's the narrator's name) speach patterns then do let me know and I'll take it down a little. Otherwise I'll just let the fella keep on with his story in his own words. [/spoilers]

   
Made in gb
Liberated Grot Land Raida






Northern Ireland

Part 3: The Sanctorum

I know I was an idiot. I shoulda thought about it a whole lot more afore I done it. That's always been my trouble: Act first think later, ya know? "You weren't ta know, Casy..." That's what Delroy always says but I don' know...

We went from celebration to organisation to downright war in jus' a few hours. The Redemption don't mess around. An' I guess it'd been a while since they'd had themselves a real good shin-dig; seems every Novice, Acolyte and Deacon got their glad-rags out fer the party. I swear the robed worms was crawlin' right out the rotten woodwork afore they burned it all down that night.

Well we all made fer the Sanctorum. 'Course, it's the only place we got ain't a heap of gak built on gak. It's s'posed to be a sanctuary, ya know... well, I mean that's what I thought. Scary how fast four walls o' plasteel can go from refuge to death trap.

There were twenty or maybe more of us holed up in there. Had every door an' winda covered. Proper hold out for an hour or maybe two, flames an' yells building up outside all the while. The place is built inta a heavy structural wall, half the hive might be built on top fer all we knew, the walls just go up an' up inta the darkness. Never seen the ceiling till that night. The orange promethium flames glowin' off some darn pious architecture, all vaulted arches an' fancy stuff up there. Nevermind the hell we was sufferin' down below.

It were chaos, I couldn't tell you the way of it. First we was holdin' our own then afore ya know it someone's rippin strips off of the alter cloth fer bandages, fella's is burnt up or bleedin' out all over the tiles. We grabbed anything that were on fire and piled it up against the doors. It were some kinda barricade, man it were a pyre!

Soon nuff them as was up top manning windows had to come down from the smoke. Things got from bad to desperate right and quick then. Pretty soon they had deacons up on high pouring the Redemptor fire down through the unmanned windows. The place was a catacomb by then anyway. Dead folks, injured, scared. We was beaten sure, but they was only out fer blood.

Then I'll never forget, ol' Boneless he's still there! How he weren't dead yet... Man I near throttled him there an' then. But for once he steps up; pulls a key from round his scrawny neck. He's got some plan, something about the altar on the dais. We shoved it aside and he unlocks the trap. Stinks of gak down there, but its a lifeline. Marty whistles loud an' the rest of 'em fall in right quick. Accept Wrex of course, he can't hear so good, an autocannon will do that to a fella after a while. I wished he still had the thing but then we didn't none of us have nothin' good like we used to. Throne! We was down ta shootin' brass buttons from the upholstery at 'em by that stage.

We grabbed what little gear we could an' anyone as could move was shuffled down there. Had ta leave a couple of our own wounded behind, tweren't nothin' for it, Emperor forgive us. But that's just how it was. We was on the run now, just seven of us in the end. Me an' Marty an' Delroy. Wrex an' Bubba. Lucky and her kid brother Jos, Emperor rest him...

Boneless wouldn't come. I tried ta do right by him, much as it made me twitch but he wouldn't have it. Jus' give him one of my stub guns in the end. Weren't but a bullet an' a half left in there. Just hope he used it wisely.

   
 
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