Yetl and Kelby sat outside a small cafetorium, sipping at recaf. Their shift had just ended, and as always they sat under the glow of the ever present strip lighting, in casual converation for an hour or two before retiring to try and sleep through the bustle of the hive during the rest of the day. Kelby was reaching the peak of a familiar tirade on the failures of their directing supervisor, when his companion hushed him into silence.
“Those recruiters again,” Yetl hissed.
They both stared intently into their glasses as the strange processional made its way along the street. The group was led by a hulking brute of a man, carry a masive piece of converted industrial equipment that he would use to fire short bursts of sickly green flame into the air. Capering along behind him, young hive thugs in grim masks and modified re-breathers chanted slogans, extoling the virtues of both the prophet of the Redemption and their leader, Rhun’ tar dha Saitov. A few sleepy eyed children gave cheers from nearby hab windows, but the makeshift parade turned a corner and the commotion faded away.
After a few minutes of the clanking and hum that passed for silence within the hive, Kelby dared
to again voice an opinion. “The guy sounds like a nutter, as far as I’m concerned. Who’d give up some posh place uphive to run around with a pack of freaks like that.”
Yetl sucked air through his teeth, “Well, maybe he truly heard a Calling.” He raised his hands in the sign of the aquilla, and his companion echoed the gesture. They’d both lived in a Cawdor sector long enough that religious observences were strictly, if cynically, followed. “But my guess? The house is making a play. It’ll be a big one, and it’ll be soon.”
They’d both lived through the riots occasionally that swept out of the underhive and the repercussions that hurt everyone as the Arbites put things back into order.
“Seems like a good time to keep our heads down, my friend,” he said, standing and knocking on the bulkhead behind him to signal their waitress. “Take the long way home today, no shortcuts underhive.” Yetl dropped some creds onto the table and gave Kelby a long look. “Recaf’s on me today. See you tomorrow.”
Just a bit of fluff that I drafted up for a local Necromunda leauge that just started. I'm using the chaos cultists models as a Cawdor gang, so clearly, they're up to on good. The leader clearly aspires to be gifted by his dark gods and be drafted into the dark legions of space marines, which mirrors my plan to convert the local skirmish game players into the dark world of
Thought you all might appreciate it, even though its pretty much a first draft