Scrap 4: Scavvies

Julie felt great after her fight with the Cawdor. Two successful bouts in a row had her flying high. A night of hard drinking ensued, and in that smoky underhive bar she heard a rumor.

"Scavvies, y'see? They been causin' trouble for the guilders lately. Took out a bunch of Goliaths that'd been hired to guard a caravan."

Julie spat on the ground. "Goliaths," she said, replacing the wet cigar in her mouth.

The man nodded, "they got pretty trashed, lemme tell ya. Anywhoo, these guilders are ready to pay a pretty cred to anyone who can mess up the patriarch of this family."

Julie leaned in, "family?"

The man nodded again, more vigorously, his eyes widening at the promise of an interested audience. He'd peddled this tale around the various saloons of this sector, and found nothing but disbelief. He didn't think the leader of a House Escher gang would even grant a male an audience, but here he was sitting across a table from the leader of the Necrotown 'Nihilators—no matter that two of her gangers stood behind him out of the light of the dim glow-globe suspended above the drinks.

"They're real messed-up, lemme tell ya! Bunch'a inbreds 'n' mutants. They call themselves The Subhumans." He looked around, "rumor has it, they even try'n breed with the dead."

Julie leaned back in her chair, and chewed on her cigar. The man licked his lips nervously and, after a while, reached for the bottle of booze. Julie stuck her hand out and grabbed the man's wrist.

"You've had enough," she said. "Tell your contacts I got this. Let Sweet Dee over here know where we can find these shitheads, and get the hell outta my sight."

The man bit his lower lip and nodded. He rose and moved out of the light towards the big one they called Sweet Dee.

Julie grinned and thought of all that a pile of credits would get her.

+++

For a man, Doc Sellers was one of the best. Julie was no fool, and made sure to make contacts with no less than three friendly docs. Not only were they good at patching up the girls, but they paid a suspiciously high amount for any that didn't make it. 

Suzi sat at a greasy window, and looked out to what bits of the underhive she could see. The weather control systems had it raining for some reason. Rivulets of heavy water snaked their way through the grease and leaked into the window through the bottom. Her right leg bounced up and down and she took another drag off her cigarette. Twelve feet from her, under a black tarp lay Klaudia. 

In the other room with the doc lay Julie. A wyrd's rat had ripped her throat out. If the doc could do anything for her she'd have to scrounge up a vox at the market if she ever hoped to bark orders anymore. If she did make it, though, I guess she'd be glad that she wouldn't have to keep looking over her shoulder for Klaudia anymore. 

Doc Sellers cleared his throat and Suzi turned.

"I have good newth and bad newth," he said, pulling off bloodstained gloves and depositing them into a drawer with white, flaking, paint. "Thweet Dee ith going to pull through, though she'th not going to be the thame. I recommend a little prothedure while I have her under thtill."

He reached into the next drawer and pulled out a computer chip with three dangling cords. "Thith should enthure thome thenth of calm about her, but... Yeth, she'll never be the thame."

Suzi took the cigarette out of her mouth. "Julie?"

Doc Sellers lowered the lobo-chip and turned it around with both hands, regarding it. "That'th the bad newth."

Suzi put the cigarette back in her mouth and inhaled. Her eyes drifted to the dark doorway where the doc worked. Maybe they should have gone to Doc Homme instead. She was a female but despite that, Julie never trusted her to work on anyone but the juves. She was the one who "couldn't save" Katherine Kool, and though this led to Julie's ascension as leader, it forever marked her as bad luck. Julie was pretty superstitious.

"Oh," Suzi said. She looked over at the slab where Klaudia lay. Doc Sellers looked at her, then at Klaudia, then over at the greasy window.

Finally, Suzi ground the cigarette on the heel of her boot, and placed it on the window sill. She stood up. "I'll let the girls know." She began to leave the room.

"What about the lobo-chip?" Doc Sellers asked.

Without breaking step Suzi called back "put it in, I think she'll need a bit of calm when she wakes up."

+++

"I can do it, sure!" said the woman at the other end of the table—the very same table that Julie had met with the man selling information about The Subhumans.

Suzi looked in her drink, her leg was bouncing up and down beneath the table. She could hear Carrie clear her throat behind her. Ever since Sweet Dee had gotten the operation she had been a little slow on the draw, and Suzi couldn't trust her to be the bodyguard that she had been for Julie. If this demotion bothered Dee, she didn't show it. But who could tell anymore.

"We took a set-back, that's all." Suzi said to the woman—Courtney Crash was her name. She took a swig of the fungus whiskey.

Courtney nodded, her eyes big and letting Suzi know that she understood clearly.

"It's not gonna be easy, but you say you're an ace with that sword, so I believe you. You know we got some scavvies comin' for us, right?"

"I heard," Courtney said. "I ain't afraid of those creeps. I got Slicer and Piercer here," she gestured to her sword and pistol hanging from the third chair by their scabbard and holster. "Though if I may," she began, "why don't we just off this captive and toss its body back down that stinkin' hole they came from and be done with 'em."

Suzi looked at her, her head cocked and looking tired. "First of all, you may not." Courtney lowered her eyes. "And secondly, it's because it's personal. I need him as bait."

As if on cue Marlene walked into the room, rubbing her knuckles. "It's asleep," she muttered on her way to the bar. Kandi was working tonight and already had Marlene's drink ready.

Suzi sighed and reached behind her, tossing a bag into Courtney's hands. "There's seventy-five," she said, rising from her seat.

"It's your deposit. From here on in, you'll take a share with the rest of us. You want some cool shit? It comes outta your pay. Carrie here's my second, Dee's still the third, but in case she don't make much sense, you listen to Marlene over there." Suzi slung her lasgun over her shoulder.

"Get some sleep. Tomorrow we tie that scavvy to a pole and go fishin'."

Suzi walked out of the bar and up the stairs to her bed.

Sweet Dee takes up an overwatch position while zombies lurk on the hive floor beneath her.

Sweet Dee scores a hit, taking two scavvies down with super-heated plasma.

A wyrd's giant rat has designs on Julie Ruin.

The second table. Not quite finished, but fully built. Sorry for the werid-sized photos. I left my camera at home and had to rely on my cellphone for documentation of Julie Ruin's final scrap.

+++END TRANSMISSION+++

Scrap 3: Ex-Cons

From the Journals of Julie Ruin, leader of the Necrotown 'Nihilators:

Word on the street was that this band a' Cawdor ex-cons callin' themselves "The Judged" was shakin' down our shops askin' for protection money. Let me get one damn thing straight: we're the ones shakin' down those shops! I rounded up the girls and we managed to hit 'em in this old-lookin' part a' town.

See the thing about these jerks is that they name themselves after their crimes, y'see? So there was this jack-off named Manslaughter, and some other bozo named Solicitation. Well, bein' stupid must not be a crime accordin' to House Cawdor, otherwise the whole bunch a' these dickheads whoulda had a hard time knowin' who's who, if ya catch my drift. 

Anyway, things were goin' pretty well until Sweet Dee's gun backfired, knockin' her on her ass the whole scrap.

Ta tell ya the truth, I was a little disappointed with the girls this scrap. I mean, they weren't the worst, but it seemed like I was doin' most a' the hittin'. My bolter was barkin' like a rad-hound. I sniped this little creep right off the bat, and knocked his ass on the ground. 

It got to a point where we were holed up behind this building with a heavy stubber and a jerk with a shotgun keepin' our heads down. It was at this point that I did what any good leader would do, and sent out the juve to draw their fire. That bitch Cynthia was nowhere to be seen (probably too busy tryin' ta knife me in the back), so I had to tell Mish to haul her ass out there. Well no kiddin'—BAM!—they take her out. I didn't hear the stubber go, though. I was plannin' on jumpin' out there myself when that maniac Marlene decides to rev-up her chainsword and jump out like a lunatic. Well, sure 'nough she takes one in the shoulder, and hits the plascrete. 

I heard the stubber jam, and the gunner goin' "oh," so I jumped out and squeezed the trigger harder'n I ever done. Well, that was enough for these jokers. They picked up their wounded and slunk off like a buncha Delaque. Well, all but one of 'em. We took that Solicitation fella and met up with their gang again a little later in an alley. I had my las pointed at his head, and demanded that they fork over some creds, otherwise they slavers'll have what's left of 'em. They were broke as a joke, but I still managed to squeeze 45 creds out of 'em (more than I'd get from the slavers, at least).

+++END TRANSMISSION+++

Scrap 2: Masked Weirdos

From the Journals of Julie Ruin, leader of the Necrotown 'Nihilators:

After sufferin' at the hands of Ironboot's chuckleheads, my gang was lookin' pretty stupid. We took to the streets to show off some muscle and prove that we're not anything to push around. This is when these costumed lunatics showed up. 

Throwin' psychic powers at us like some kinda coven a' wyrds, they surrounded us and demanded that we surrender ourselves for judgement or some buncha crap. As if they were a group a' Arbites, right? I told 'em to fuck off and we started shootin'.

Sweet Dee took up position down a street, gettin' as much of a line a' sight as she could. I told Suzi to watch her back, and I headed upstairs with Carrie (who was still a little winded from our scrap with the All Naturals). Marlene and Cynthia ran around like a buncha psychos not bein' able to make up their damned minds. One time climbin' up a ladder with Carrie and I, and the next runnin' full-bore at a coupla supes that were tryin' to dance with Sweet Dee. 

Much to my surprise (and probably Marlene's chagrin), Cynthia popped off a supe with her stub gun and took the weirdo down. I reckon that's the last we'll see a' him, seein' as all kinds a' blood was spillin' outta his head. Anyway, things came to a head when Klaudia, Mish, and Patti were tradin' shots with a coupla freaks across an alley. One of 'em looked kinda weirder than the rest. He was probably a mutie or somethin'. 

Anyway, one of these creeps—a real sneaky bitch—comes runnin' up behind the three of 'em and tosses in a frag grenade. Boom! They were taken out, and at the mercy of a halberd-weildin' kook. I had had enough a' this and decided to start sprayin' bolter shells down at the mutie. I took him out and their boss (some red-clad clown) decided that maybe they'd had enough a' us embarassin' 'em. 

I ain't gonna lie, though. It was by the skin a' our teeth. Afterwards Mish has been complainin' about a sore right arm—which hopefully won't impact her ability to separate rubes from their creds in the crowds—and Klaudia's got a nasty criss-cross a' scars across her mug. Pretty scary stuff. Hopefully the others out there will feel the same way we do. Carrie's finally learned her lesson and started packin' man-stopper shells in addition to the hot-shots she's so fond of (but which never fuckin' hit), and I even got myself a slick set a' flak armor for the next time some jerk decides to plug me.

+++END TRANSMISSION+++

Scrap 1: Ironboot's Wrath

From the Journals of Julie Ruin, leader of the Necrotown 'Nihilators:

First, the Underhive in all its decrepit glory:

The whole shebang.

Close-up.

Ironically full of scavvies...

My first Gang Fight was against the All Naturals lead by the indomitable Ironboot. They are a gang hailing from House Goliath, and I was wholly unprepared to face them, evidently.

They came at us through the tunnels. Ironboot and two of his shotgun-weilding weirdos popped up through some old ventilation ducts and completely surprised Carrie and Mish. Sweet Dee tried her best to supply covering fire but her primary duty is to be my bodyguard and at this moment two of Ironboot's heavy stubbers had Cynthia and me in their sights.

The shotgun blasts caught us out of cover. The concussive blasts knocked Klaudia off a gantry and down to the streets below.

Sweet-Dee was next. Some meathead strode out into the street like he owned the joint and took aim. Her shot had missed, veering off to his left. She was dead meat; left without a gantry to stand on. She ended up hittin' the dirt too. It was at this time that I didn't even care about showin' up Ironboot. I knew I had to protect my girls, and fleeing is the better part of valor, after all.

We took off. I managed to get all the gals out safely but Carrie suffered a chest wound. She's been suckin' wind all week, which has really affected meal time. Patti's been fillin' in as helper, but let's be honest, I love her to shreds but she'd burn water.

+++END TRANSMISSION+++

Punk-Rockin', Never Stoppin'

For those that don't know, Necromunda is one of my favorite games. My list—to the right—of favorite miniatures games is limited to five, otherwise Necromunda would be 6 or 7 alongside GorkaMorka. The reason is that it's easily the most "punk" miniatures game ever written. Gangs with mohawks and studded leather boots fighting it out over garbage and evading the law and rich kids? I can hear The Exploited playing over a vox caster right now.

Now that brings us to today, where my gaming group is starting a Necromunda campaign. This will be the first time I've played Necromunda in over a decade. I believe the last time I played was when the boxed sets got compiled into the hardcover rulebook in '98 (the one with the hazard stripes). This, coincidentally, is the version we're going to be using. The re-make (Necromunda: Underhive) is very close to the original version but is missing some key bits that we felt, ultimately, did the game a disservice. Therefore, it will be ignored.

I'll be using the Escher, which is my favorite Underhive house, and I'll be doing them as punkly as I can (all the names are inspired by female punk rockers). I'd also like to use this opportunity to compile a bit of a narrative about my gang and post it here on this blog. I'll be using the tag "Necrotown 'Nihilators" for any posts related to this campaign, so keep checking back to see battle reports, stories, and pictures of my games.

Now without further ado, let's meet The Necrotown 'Nihilators (note: I'm not actually finished painting my figures yet. Until then, I don't want to show pictures of half-assed paintjobs. Once the figures are finished, I'll update the entries here on this post, so check back soon!):

Julie Ruin (leader)
If there's one word that can describe Julie it's "unlucky." She's had to rely on her skills and tenacity to secure the leadership of The Necrotown 'Nihilators (previously known as the Underhive Rats) from her former leader Kathrine Kool. This has made her all the more determined to move cautiously through her career; keeping one eye peeled for any pitfalls that she can't talk, or shoot her way out of.

Sweet Dee (heavy)
Dee-Lite—known to everyone as "Sweet Dee"—is a strong, silent type. She and Julie were juves in the "Underhive Rats" at the same time, and have moved up among the ranks together. She has no ambition towards leadership, however, and remains Julie's closest friend, advisor, and bodyguard. After all, who would dare knife Julie in the back when you're in the sights of a heavy plasma gun?

Suzi Shrapnel (ganger)
Suzi is a sharpshooter. Suzi has always been a sharpshooter. She's had her lasgun (Lungpiercer) passed down from her mother, and has earned her chops picking off anyone who got too close to her hab. This got her in trouble when she targeted the heavy of the Underhive Rats, who was scrounging for archeotech too close to Suzi's home. This led to a three-day siege by which the Underhive Rats ultimately lost when Julie mutinied against Katherine Kool. So impressed was Julie by Suzi's skills that she immediately hired her and Lungpiercer on.

Klaudia Shiv (ganger)
Klaudia is petty,  sneaky, and closely watched by Julie. She's the one who came up with the name "Underhive Rats" and deeply resents Julie changing the name. She'll still refer to the gang by its old moniker (even though it's just her, Sweet Dee, and Julie that remain out of the original gang), which causes some confusion amongst outsiders. Good thing Klaudia's not in charge of anything important (other than laying down a hail of covering fire).

Marlene Murder (ganger)
No one really knows where Marlene came from. She just kinda started hanging around, which is handy, as she brought her own chainsword. Marlene speaks in the third person, which irritates Julie to no end (who has taken to referring to Marlene in the third person as well). None can deny her skill with the sword, however. Though it is a little startling how enthusiastic she can get.

Carrie Blastein (ganger)
Carrie came on the gang as a juve not too long after Julie took over. The difference is that she came on as a cook! Carrie cooked the best millisaur jambalaya this side of The Wall, and was greatly welcome into the 'Nihilators. At first she avoided combat, but when the 'Nihilators were taken by surprise by a Delaque gang known as the "Hotshots," she quickly took to the shotgun, which has become her signature weapon. Now, it rarely leaves her kitchen, and she rarely leaves without it.

Mish Mash (juve)
Mish was part of a traveling circus, and worked as a dancer. When she was caught pick-pocketing Sweet Dee, Julie decided that her skills were better put to use in the gang rather than lifting creds off of dense Underhive rubes.

Cynthia Cyanide (juve)
Cynthia doesn't fuck around, and wants everyone to know that. After just one scrape with a Scavvy gang she decided that she'd earned the right to challenge Julie. Julie responded with a boltgun shot, which left Cynthia unharmed save a nagging case of tinnitus. This put a stop to Cynthia's mutiny... For the moment.

Patti Patricide (juve)
Patti's known affectionately as "Little Julie," due less to the fact that she looks like her, and more to the fact that she's Julie's favorite. Julie "sees something" in Patti and has taken her under her wing. In fact, Julie gifted Patti with Katherine Kool's "kustom" autopistol ("spark barker") as a sign of confidence (something that's rubbed Cynthia the wrong way since day one).

+++END TRANSMISSION+++