Hey folks. Small update I recently hosted a Ashwaste necromuda game on the bleakspur board I created last year 2019 pre covid. It took a year to make and then i had to wait a year to game on the thing. PDH aka Peter and Requiem 82 aka Ben and shiboleth aka Jonathan came over to game on it. It was a good game a bit slow to start off with and then once in he action wiite a lot of fun. I had previously made a random events table and created models to represent these.
Each player had his own objective mine was to enslave as many folk as possible Peter's was to capture a rare stc template from the spire top . Ben's was to assassinate a rival assassin and Jonathan's was to extract a medical sample from his long lost son.
I was originally going to write up the narrative stories for each player but my laptop died with most pictures from the game . The remaining pics are are posted hear for posterity . I should also mention Npc models were provided by Nicholas pihlstrom Bjarni Dali and John blanche
Far north of the World Sump Ocean past the ancient sunken shipyards of the Quinspirus Cluster and
the desolate rad pits of the Blitzguard lays a forgotten Spire newly revealed by a millennia long Ash
storm. None can say what long begotten relics of Necromunda’s Technocracy lay within its rusting
and radiated interior or what eldritch horrors lay in wait for the unwary traveller.
By no measure was the thing a Hive. Barely a pinnacle compared to the manmade mountain
monoliths of Necromunda. But here north of north out on the edge of the storm plains, where
nomads reign beyond the remit of the clans and houses there were few structures to rival its size.
Derelict and forsworn, barely a soul in sight, its engine heart long since stalled. Promethium no
longer pumped through destitute and calcified pipes. A pitiful mass of machines and architecture
thrust up like a dirty stiletto through the ochre haze of the horizon. Bayonetted black against the
twilight smog like an ominous shadow.
It began as a rumour hushed in dim tents on the radtrail, but like anything of value, the rumour
spread through the spider network of traders and tunnels until it reached the dry docks of the
A new hive.. ? A rust relic emerged from the Ash storms somewhere north of the world sump ocean,
a technocratic treasure of a bygone age. Like moths to the lantern, Guilders and Warlords from afar
moved quickly to lay claim to the derelict citadel. Most faltered at the first, lost in rad storms or
engulfed by the shifting dunes. But some persisted desperate to lay claim to the Phantom
fortification. A tentative foothold in this impermanent place before the apparition descends back to
myth shrouded in discouraging electrical storms.
You are not the first and your reasons to be here are you own, but as it lays before you now, a
brooding monolith of a dead era. You cannot escape the faded majesty of what was.
The few shanties that have built up around its toxic rim are sparse and windblown temporal things,
clinging to what now passes as life in the shadow of the spire. Your respirator coughs and gargles
struggling to keep you alive in this toxic acropolis of death. The wind begins to howl as you check the
blips emerging onto your Auspex. Your arrival has not gone unnoticed. Unclipping an ammo pack
from its housing you take note of a makeshift waster sign that translates as “BleakSpur” and you
couldn’t agree more.
The Technomancer story
Nicholas pihlstrom generously sent me this model it's one if the best I have ever seen too. Partly Inspired by laputa i thought it would sit really well with Bjarni Dali's Techno runts that he had previously sent me . I also added a converted skitari model I made years ago for the last game I hosted the harrowing of Tephra.
I had tried narratively organise the game before it started so it would make gaming flow and give a reason for the characters to be here.
So exiled and hunted from palpatine hive forbid progressive thoughts the technomancer fled to the most desolste polar regions to continue his experimentation in an ancient abandoned Araneus prime geothermal facility. Subsequently retrofitted into an imperial scholarship progenium . Now crawling with ancient monsters and feral mutated orphans. A pan mutation that causes the centuries old orphans to never grow old. Their tutors long dead tbey embrace a savage semi nomadic lifestyle.
The two adopts Bjarni sent would work as ferals adopted by the magos to help plant seeds . The larger mutated manchikd skittarii is also an orphan discarded like junk from his noble heritage by uncaring inspire nobility. Jonathan's character would attempt to woo back his progeny to take a genetic sample to alleviate a terminal condition.
The Technomancer was not alone in his machinations to restore Necromunda to its former Araneus Prime glory. He had at his disposal a Famed upspire Assassin the Hunter. Built by Ben specifically for the game he had been eliminating obstacles in the Technomancers path to restore the world to greenery. Unfortunately he had also become a target for another famed assasin velvet. Who had received a bounty to kill the Hunter from the fixer of fixers Mydas.
No good assasin works alone so the Hunter has back up a gunslinger hired for the last job and returned to bleakspur for payment
The Ailing Duke
Your retinue arrived on the outskirts of the ramshackle shanty town two days ago, the price you paid to the guilders was worth it. You may finally be in reach of your goal. You never regretted the decision to throw your own son out the spire until the churgeon told you how terminal your illness was, and how the only hope for a cure lay within your families gene pool. Like any uspsire noble worth his house, you killed your own siblings before your 16th birthday. Your parents were assassinated in inter house politics and you have been by yourself ever since, which suits you fine. When your concubine gave you a heir, you were mildly amused – it will be good to have your line continue you thought but nothing more. When the mutations began to show though, you knew there could only be one option, Banishment, Lord Helmaw forgives many sins but Mutation is not one of them. The Inquisition hunts without mercy those who show corruption and your house would be ruined, the taint may even lead to yourself and you liked your life enough to not want it to end in an imperial black ship or worse one of Helmaw’s death squads. NO the only answer was to cast aside your own into the wilds. He was given to a smuggler who was paid handsomely to forget where he came from or to tell where he was going which was fine right up until your recent diagnosis.
Now within touching distance of your goal – the spies you hired informed you that the child was gifted to Ashwaste nomads who travelled as circus in the long deserts of Necromundas polar regions, How the child came to be here- in but long forgotten this newly reported spire is a mystery. You only need a vial of his genome and you will be on your way home, but those feral youths who hide in the shadow of the spire, living like animals in the ochre dirt are scuppering your plans, there are too many to fight – so you wait.
Two days later your patience is rewarded with a violent ashstorm- all but the most solid of shanties are blown to the wind, the children take shelter in the lower regions of the spire – you noticed they don’t travevel very far up the spire and your spies report that your mutant child is based in the middle section of the Fortress. – he is wearing the robes of the machine cult and is assisted by two runts- they seem to be planting seeds on the spire and fixing water pipes for some unknown reason. Now is your opportunity and you and your retinue push forward in haste as your spies re[ort a slaver warband is also moving in.
Jonathan's target was his long lost son from whom he needed to extract a DNA sample. The mutant man child was not an adept for the rogue mechanicum magi. And wanted nothing to do his duplicit father. The warband tried several times to play a lullaby to win over the orphan only to be shot at by him in return. In the end the duke caught up with his protege and as the child realised whom he was embraced his father only to be punched in the face for his troubles. The duke then duly extracted the DNA sample from the blood on his noble glove and fled the the bleakspur with renewed Hope's for a cure.
The Assasin's Prey
Be. wrote a evocative pre game into to his characters
“I don’t like it” Velvet said, or rather, half shouted. It was very noisy.
The thin, bespectacled man sat opposite her in the booth gave no indication he’d heard her. Perhaps he hadn’t. He continued studying the sheaves of paper in front of him on the table, and seemed to be comparing various details with a data-slab readout. A glass of water stood, untouched.
Velvet considered repeating herself, but then the head lifted, and an eyebrow arched at her.
“And what exactly is it you’re not happy about?” Mydas asked. Despite the loud pulse music and the hubbub of the crowd, he didn’t raise his voice. He rarely did. Luckily, the assassin had exceptional hearing, and still caught the words.
“Seems straightforward enough, price agreed, and no quibbling! My sort of deal” Mydas added.
“It’s alright for you to say that, sitting about on your arse. I’ve read the details, I got a bad feeling from it”
Mydas frowned at the swear word, and went back to his papers. He sighed and lifted a bit of unidentifiable meat off of one sheet, grease already staining it. “Golfag, please try and keep your food to yourself”
The hulking, dark skinned Ogryn stopped mid-chew at hearing his name. He turned his head to regard what Mydas held up, and then half opened the huge sandwich he was consuming.
“In dere boss” a deep rumble suggested.
With a grimace, the accountant flicked the offending morsel back into the sandwich, which closed like a Catachan Mantrap, and was swiftly returned to the Ogryn’s mouth for another huge bite. Golfag chewed and grinned happily. Another bit of the filling dropped out the bottom of the sandwich.
Mydas sighed, and returned his attention back to Velvet. “Fine. Tell me what bothers you. I’m not paying you any more, there’s barely any margin in it anyway, my fee is quite minimal, I assure you. The travel cost alone to this place was astronomical”
“I don’t know, exactly. Just a feeling, that it’s not going to go well.” Velvet shouted over the music. “Why the hell do we have to meet here, anyway? This is not a nice place you got”
“It’s perfectly good.” said Mydas “Everyone is occupied, no-one can hear us, and most importantly, the creds are flowing” He went back to his papers and slab once again.
It was true. The Slut Drop bar was a great place to be inconspicuous. The loud music, dance area and the wide range of alcohol and stimms on offer meant everybody there was suitably occupied. The girls in various states of undress dancing on tables also helped. The only really alert people were the usual large men on the door, and strategically placed about the place, in case trouble occurred. Flare ups were common, but were normally swiftly dealt with.
“Whatever, you perv. What about some back up?”
Mydas glanced up at her over the rim of his glasses. This was unusual. The young woman before him was normally the pillar of confidence and swagger, and happily operated on her own. For her to ask for assistance really did mean she was concerned. His quick mind ran the numbers against who he knew to be available. No. Whichever way he cut it, Mydas would make nothing at all if he got more people involved. She would have to go it alone.
Mydas knew how to motivate his operatives. Velvet hated being challenged, so he said:
“Well, if you can’t do it, I’ll have to find someone else. Maybe you can hang around here, do security. I could ask Haley…” He let the words hang, knowing the two women did not get on.
Mentioning the ex-enforcement officer had the desired effect. Velvet glowered at him.
“You bastard. Fine. I’m off.” She slid along the booth bench seat and stood up. “I’ll get it done. I always do” With that, Velvet shouldered her rifle case, and looked one last time at the pair still sitting, one pale and thin, the other, dark and muscular. “See ya!”
She spun on her heel and headed for the main doors, pushing through the crowded walkways. A man, quite worse for wear, whistled at her as she passed and tried to grab at her. In a foul mood already, Velvet turned to confront the fool, but as she did, a large shadow rose up behind the man, and a deliberate movement caused the fellow to crumple to the floor.
“Thanks Golf. I had him covered though”
The Ogryn shrugged and said “I come too”
“Aw no, you heard Mydas. He wants you here”
“Don’t want you ‘urt”
Golfag did surprise Velvet at times. Whether he did actually listen and didn’t let on he understood, or whether it was more instinctive, she couldn’t tell, but there were moments where he grasped the situation well, and clearly saw she’d been unhappy.
Velvet reached up and patted his cheek “It’s ok babe, I got this. I’ll be back before you know it”
The broad face scrunched up in unconvinced thought, and she could see he wasn’t easily accepting this, so she tried a different tact.
“You gotta stay here, the other girls need you. Look, that one over there, that group of men are getting out of hand” Velvet pointed behind Golfag’s back.
With a deep frown, the Ogryn turned to look, and saw nothing too amiss. Just the usual hustle and bustle, the conversations, the cheers and whoops, the music pounding, the drinks flowing and the girls dancing.
He turned back but Velvet had gone… wait, there she was, at the door. Before he could move, she blew him a kiss and disappeared.
Then I wrote a short game intro for them.a
Many tales are told of this legendary encounter but what is truth and what is myth is left to interpretation. All I can say is that the velvet got paid.... or did she ?
“Kantus squinted towards the dust storm forming on the horizon.
My own slavers failed terribly in game catching no one and high tailing away with only two members left. A poor showing for such a fearsome looking bunch. Until next time.
My target was any one alive.
But kinda hopefully to grab some of the feral children. Which didnt happen. Splir my attack between Peter's gang and Jonathan's which was probably a bad idea as they were pretty tough cookies.
Summing up I wont be making a visual narrative like I usually do Do to missing too many photos as my.laptop died with them on but I will pop yhe rest of them up on here for posterity and you can make what you will of the game from those images.
Ben aka Requiem 82 on insta is blogging his narrative flow so be sure to check it out.
A few notable events included Peter's guy falling through a roof and impairing himself . An Assasin nearly falling to there doom during a hive quake an ash storm drops and a giant spider to name but a few.
Game pica below