Where the hell am I?

Welcome to Chapter Two of the London Wargaming Guild’s long-term Necromunda Campaign. In Chapter One, the gangs fought a Dominion Campaign amid the decaying infrastructure of Cog-Port’s Central Terminal. For Chapter Two, your gang will fight a Law and Misrule Campaign for the criminal enterprises among The Teeth – a series of islands in the World Sump Ocean, just offshore from Cog-Port itself.

The Setting

Growth  

For generations Cog-Port was a hub into which the produce of the planet flowed, on ash road and maglev to cross the ocean on sump-trudgers bound for the Mynerva Cluster, Ulantia, and Hive Primus itself. The port grew up over generations from a lowly outpost into a simmering hub of trade and commerce vital to cross-planetary trade. From a reef of beached sump-trudgers, downed void-craft, and slime-battered shanties, spires grew breeding shoals of traders, bottom feeding smugglers and pirates, and predatory nobility.

DOWNFALL

Today, Cog-Port is an abscess on the cracked skin of Helmawr’s Graveyard; A wound in the land in and out of which the Worldsump Ocean oozes, for nearly 1,000 years, Cog-Port fell abruptly silent. Traders arriving by land and by ocean were met not by customs enforcers, but by tattered refugees. The few who could manage more than fearful gibbering spoke only of “the howling… the silence.” Cog-Port’s growth turned to decay, its young spire crumbled and docking machinery left to rust, its society broke into wretched tribes eking survival from broken metal, mutant plant life, and frothing sump.

Rebirth

Yet, Cog-Port was not forgotten by Necromunda’s rulers. With the Great Rift and new wars disrupting interstellar trade, the last few years have seen Lord Helmawr take an interest in reviving the port. By bringing its infrastructure and machinery back online he hopes to increase inter-hive trade - and ensure that leads to an increase in his profits.

In M41, under Imperial House authority, representative gangs of the Clan Houses journeyed to the ruins of Cog-Port, charged with setting its gears turning once more. With the promise of a share of its riches and whatever they might skim from the top (or bottom) of its treasures, the gangs eagerly raced to be first to establish new territories, revive old industries, and uncover long buried treasures.

Having fought their way across sump soaked gantries and walkways into the main terminal, the gangs moved swiftly to establish themselves. Appropriately, given Cog-Port’s dual rich seams of abandoned technology and quiescent secrets, it was the Van Saar Wasteland Warriorz and Dark Hand of the Delaque that rose quickly to the top of Cog-Port’s new hierarchy with the Orlocks of Joestown Boys jostling at their heels.

REVENANT 

Yet, the gangs found that Cog-Port’s dangers, including carnivorous plants and acid rain, were to be matched by new dangers - chiefly arms trader, ‘Fully Auto’ Otto. Once happy to sell any weapon to any buyer with enough creds, Cog-Port’s acid-lashed views of churning sump brought a new outlook on life. Enthusiastically embracing recycling, locally grown produce, and organic farming methods, Otto turned from dealing death to giving life. Unfortunately what Otto had given life to was the Brainleaf Fungus, aka the ZOMBIE PLAGUE. A gift from Otto to the gangs of his homemade sump-grown rice delicacy, Ris-Otto, saw members of every gang succumb to the plague, turning once lithe and brutal fighters into shambling plague zombies.

It seemed that this plague might stop Cog-Port’s turning gears once more. Yet, despite the horror of seeing their comrades in arms eating arms, the gangs fought on to save their territories and ultimately Fully Auto Otto and his creations fled. The Cog turned again…

Milking the Teeth

With the terminal itself now functioning at a basic level, greedy eyes turn from land to ocean. The Broken Teeth of Cog-Port are a series of islands located a kilometer or so offshore from the main terminal – both part of and separate from Cog-Port.

These islands were once safe havens for those who, either lawfully or unlawfully, felt they had no place in Cog-Port itself. They became homes to pirates, smugglers and legitimate (though not necessarily law abiding) traders, watched over by Enforcers in their sea forts.

 Some of these islands are natural formations, while others are conglomerations of old sump-trudgers and lesser vessels – not unlike earth-bound versions of space hulks. Since the fall of Cog-Port, new islands must now be mapped for this fall was both social and architectural. Parts of the hive’s spires have toppled into the ocean, their gilded corridors, luxury suites, and crystal viewing chambers are now caves to be plumbed by the brave or the foolhardy.

Official sanction to make this crossing is limited and dearly sought after. Those given writ to make the attempt will enjoy the support of the Cog-Port authority and, by extension, Lord Helmawr himself. Those who make it of their own accord will face the ire and retribution of the same, becoming outlaws of the offshore.

 Yet, whether sanctioned or unsanctioned, the same dangers and treasures await – Criminal enterprises to be controlled, archaeotech hoards to be discovered, and xenos-tech to be put to use. But, the darkness that felled the spire is close to the surface here, the waves all around, and the ground even more unsure…