The Backstory + Random WIP Photos

So here is the back story for my gang and the campaign from my perspective, I thought about scattering random images of models from my WIP bucket throughout so it wasn't just a wall of text. However once I wrote it I knew they would not gel well with the story. So instead here is an image of how my Barbed Heirodule is developing to keep those that want pretty pictures happy. More images are at the end to help you cleanse your palette and some may wish to skip straight to that.

 

Please be advised that in the grim dark not all content may be suitable for the youthful and naive or those weak of heart.

----- Down the Rabbit Hole -----

When the first tremors began, Vorne was at home in her living quarters within the Hab Block. While more vicious than the regular mining tremors, Vorne stuck her head beneath tomorrows mining gear and tried to get some sleep. Being in the mines without proper rest was a death waiting to happen and there was no excuse that could ever excuse you from work in the Underhive. It wasn't until she arrived at work the next morning with a cup of Hot Recaf in hand that things started to get worse.

The tremors had not been coming from the mines in fact to make matters worse due to collapsed mines and other risks (to the precious mining equipment) work had been halted. This had caused commotion for all, as the workers protested for without work there would be no pay. Vorne kept away from the protesters, work would resume as soon as it could. There would be worse consequences if it didn't and she didn't want to be considered a trouble maker if the enforcers showed up to keep things in line.

She was on her third cup of recaf when she saw the first section of the underhive collapse, a section of about five hab blocks became a rolling dustcloud. Scrabbling to bring her respirator to her mouth before it hit she was thrown from her feet by another tremor much larger than any yet.

Blank darkness was what greeted her when she opened her eyes. Thankfully she had managed to get her respirator on before she had passed out. Once her eyes started to adjust she could make out the shapes of the other workers, some had been crushed by falling debris others had died asphyxiated by the relentless clouds of asphalt, concrete and rust. Alone it seemed or at least she hoped for down in the mines were a host of horrors that may have also survived such a disaster. Knowing it was stupid to stay she collected what rations or liquids she could from her co-workers and picked one of the many openings and made her way deeper into the mines.

Time was hard enough to gauge in the underhive with no natural indicators but deep within the tunnels it was even harder, trying to pace herself with what supplies she had proved a futile attempt and it had only seemed like a day or two before she had nothing left. Curled in a corner she waited for the inevitable, questioning whether it would be a stray Ambul that pick up on her scent or the slow death in the darkness she expected. She prayed to the Darkness for anything else, the darkness did not answer as slowly she passed to and from consciousness.

Eventually a sharp light broke the cycle, viciously burning her eyes as it had been days since she saw anything other than a faint light emitted from the toxic waste clinging to the walls. Unable to make anything out as her brain screamed in shared agony she heard the first voice. "Looks like we found another survivor, she must be pretty tough to have made it this long on her own". "Better take her back" said the other. "Well lets make sure we have some fun with her before we have to share" replied the first. Her eyes were finally adjusting to the light as he dropped trow, she began to curse and wished she had died or at least were still unconscious. As she screamed and forced her eyelids to shut she first heard 'the voice', it whispered inside her head. It told her not to worry, to told her how to escape her body and it told her she would have her revenge.

When she came too she found herself within a lavishly lit and decorated cavern, her bare skin on top of the softest material she had ever experienced. Bound however, her wrists tied and pinned above her head. Twisting her body and turning her head she was able to see the source of the odd and varied noises. Men and women, willing and unwilling, thrusting and convulsing. Disgusted Vorne averted her gaze, shuddering at the thought for surely she would be dragged into the heap of heaving bodies eventually. That was when he appeared, a man dressed in lavish silks and a charming smile. He asked if she wished to be a free woman. Gathering what saliva she had in her mouth to spit in his face in answer the voice appeared once more within her head telling her to trust him. Instead as she looked up she answered firmly that she wished to be set free. He drew his blade, cut her loose and as he offered his hand to help her up he introduced himself as Gerrit.

Following him out of the cavern of delights as he fondly called it he showed her to a room full of old clothes. As she picked out some pants and even an armoured breastplate that fitted her well he explained what happened over the past week. Firstly the section of the underhive they had all lived in collapsed. Many died but those that survived found they could no longer live as they had. Travelling into the now exposed tunnel network many found old abandoned or at least unknown parts of the Underhive. No area was self sufficient but linked by the tunnels the survivors were able to make it work. Many a gang including Gerrits own had formed to make claim to parts of the Warren and these connected caverns are where he had chosen to settle.

Once he left her to get settled in the voice whispered about revenge, muttering back so that none could hear clearly they discussed the plan and she set about finding a suitable implement. Amongst a pile of of discarded scraps she found a herself a jagged and sharp but wonderfully solid piece of broken steel just over a hands length long. Quickly she tucked it away before anyone saw.

That night she found the man who had first tormented her, the shard of steel hidden within her top. This time she was one to remove her pants first and told him to relax. Riding him as he edged nearer to his final moments he closed his eyes. Vorne finally drew he jagged shard from her top and repeated plunged it into his neck giving him the the sweet release he so clearly desired. Cackling madly as his corpse went limp within her; the voice whispered sweet nothings within her head.

Vorne never once returned to the Cavern of delights nor was she bothered in her sleep. It might have been word of what she did or the fact that her muttering only got louder and less coherent when she closed her eyes. It was not long before all of Gerrits followers called her Vorne the Crazed.

Gerrit was not shy of the fact that he had forsaken the light of the god-emperor. In fact he proudly bore his new gods signet on his finger. His god would offer pleasure and ecstasy like none other. Any who found shelter in the safety his gang offered would have to forsake god-emperor as well or be bound within the cavern of delights so that others may find pleasure in them. While Vorne had clearly forsaken the corpse emperor and would confirm her hate for him, she had yet to accept this new god as her own. This was enough however and Gerrit offered her along with any others a chance to bear arms and clear a new path for them all within the Warren as it was slowly being referred to.

Within the armoury of scavenged weapons and discarded equipment Vorne found a large antique flamer. This ornate beast had obviously been ignored by those before her as it would be unwieldy and unreliable however with an inbuilt chainsaw Vorne saw only the carnage she could inflict on those before her. Taking some mud and tar she scribbled across the chainblade "Death + Hate". She found herself cackling once again as thoughts of how she would ignite her Hate and bring a bloody Death to those before her trickled into her mind.

In the following months she joined Gerrit and his gang as they cut bloody life for themselves in the Warren. Tales rose of their deeds an they lived like royalty at the expense of those who foolishly still followed the corpse emperor. These tales however were heard by those of faith well outside the Warren.

Gerrit had relocated most of the gang to a new shrine of decadence. It was here that they came raiding in the night, zealous fanatics of house Cawdor and women clad in black and draped in purity seals. Endless streams of fire cut down most of their warriors. Gathering her best friend Razzle and any others she could and with the help of the voice guided them. In the cover of the surrounding violence they made their escape.

Gerrit it seemed had not be slaughtered with his men, instead he alone had been kept alive. All those in the Warren had been invited to his public execution. Covering her identity she and the survivors attended hopeful that they might be able to save him, their savior. It was a foolish hope, the executioners gallows were surrounded by fanatic zealots driven into a mad frenzy by the event and standing atop it were many more of the black clad Sisters more heavily armed than any gang. Cursing her own naivety and foolishness she could do nothing more as he was beheaded but vow revenge.

Returning once again to the caverns where it had all started Vorne gathered up all the surviving followers. Knowing that they must have had a traitor within them Vorne singled out all those who had once offered allegiance to Cawdor. About a dozen were now bound in the Cavern of Delights however it was no longer so delightful, the orgies had ceased and an elaborate ritual circle had been drawn in the blood of another. Vorne would use this chance to bring life to the voice in her head and with its help bring down her enemies.

Knowing that she would need to sacrifice not only the traitors before her but the cursed fetus growing within her as well; Vorne shed her clothing and for the first time in over 3 months removed her armoured breastplate. Steeping past the bound captives into the middle of the ritual circle Vorne began the process, speaking forbidden words of an arcane tongue. At the height of the ritual dark energies flooded out from her and she screamed in pain as she felt the voice inside her take on a new host within her. Her screams did not end, they rose in volume as did the pain she felt. As with any birth it felt like an eternity and single moment all in one.

As she went to lie down next to the convulsing multicoloured heap between her legs it opened its many tortured eyes. Gazing into its eyes and feeling a sense of relief she asked it its name. Opening its Matryoshka-esk mouth a tongue rolled out past its many sets of teeth. Then with its distended maw and tongue lolling about on the ground it gargled "Zarggglebarbeljarg". Vorne smiled in true peace as it suckled up to her.

----- End of Part 1 -----

 

As discussed here are some pictures of my lovely Harpy made from the left over parts for the Barbed Heirodule at the top of the page. If that doesn't cleanse the palette maybe this confusing meme I stole from facebook will jolt you out of it. 

Best not to ask questions