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Post by hobbsy on Dec 8, 2022 18:09:22 GMT -5
In the Manufacturing Sector of the city of Progress, there are many complexes which now are being put to optimal use for the followers of the dark gods. The names of some of these facilities have been renamed to remove any references of the hated imperium and corpse emperor. Others still hold their previous designates, not needing to be changed or corrected by their newly founded management. There are also some which are just referred to for their purpose or output. The foundry is one such place.
Foundry 99 (more commonly referred to as 'the foundry') is on the outside a large factorum, warehouse-like design in appearance. This common exterior hides the dark oppression within as workers slave over industrial machinery and now tainted workings to produce pure, yet corrupted, metals.
The interior is bleak in both the atmosphere and general appearance, the only lighting in some areas being the heated metals. Casted in constant hues of reds, yellows and distorted blues, the foundry is a nightmare made manifest. The heavy contraptions now constantly watch the workers hungrily with avian eyes, looking to snatch up those who are falling behind or are simply not attentive enough. The shadow of demons dance between those of gaunt figures on the walls as the labourers toil away. Corpses hang from the ceiling and old light fixtures with boards hung upon them that dictate their crimes.
But the usual air of depression is disrupted, for revolt and change is now stirring throughout the facility. Although cruelty is a common trend in Progress now, it would seem that there is too much in the foundry. The work hours have steadily increased alongside the numbers of health hazards. The threats of being strung up or turned into compliant, walking abominations have not subdued these feelings. The labourers openly accuse foreman 9 of withholding positive change and inso doing, preventing the will of the god of change himself! The waring and squabbling gangs have fallen silent as the entire workforce forms a temporary truce to prioritize in a united goal.
The scene is set. Anything, or anyone, could light the fuse to set the foundry ablaze...
(The foundry is open! Feel free to post to put yourself in the setting. You can create any interaction with workers as you please or simply put yourself in the scene. I can reply as any workers you interact with.)
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cyg
Junior Member
Posts: 58
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Post by cyg on Dec 11, 2022 23:13:26 GMT -5
The turmoil of the foundry left many of the areas and machinery vacant, either from lack of workers, or a fear of what lurked in some corridors. But a lone shape could be sometimes seen, slinking along in the shadows and through the narrow passageways. Wretch however, was here for parts. Scavenging was good here, he had to admit, even with all the dangers and he wasn't going to give up a chance to steal from those machine freaks when they were busy beating up some fab-slaves. He was inspecting his haul in a isolated maintenance closet, listening to the sounds of distant gun fire and heavy machinery.
"Well cover me in gold and call me a fecking saint, you're a nice little toy," he rasped to a very new cogitator part.
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Post by theredauthar on Dec 12, 2022 0:54:35 GMT -5
Vinz Kellam plays with a small, broken blade. Not one of his usual weapons, but one he found on the ground. Perhaps it was part of the machinery or a disregarded piece of armor from one of the workers, he doesn’t know. More importantly, he doesn’t care.
Blooded don’t work in factories. Blooded aren’t simple cultists or laborors. Blooded are veterans, tacticians, warriors….
Not factory workers.
The large man spins the blade in the air and looks out to the assembly line below, wondering…
What would happen if he threw the blade down there? Would it hit someone? Would it start a fight or a panic? How would they react? His desire to see the reactions is high, but he also knows that is not his purpose here today. Not yet anyways. No he’s on lookout duty. Mostly because he can’t crawl through the vents and hidden tunnels himself.
But Wretch can. And Wretch is still useful. Sometimes in ways that don’t make sense, but Vinz was not ready to give up on the mutie yet.
Still…a distraction could help Wretch with his scavenging…
Vinz shakes his head. Focus. He can cause a fight later. Right now he’s listening for Wretch to signal for help or for the signal to move to the next vent or tunnel or corridor.
Part of Vinz hopes they’d get caught so he can fight. But that might mean they don’t get any loot.
Why did they need the loot? He doesn’t remember. Or care. It was there. It was for the taking. And potentially something might need to be stabbed to get it.
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Post by hobbsy on Dec 13, 2022 17:27:19 GMT -5
The turmoil of the foundry left many of the areas and machinery vacant, either from lack of workers, or a fear of what lurked in some corridors. But a lone shape could be sometimes seen, slinking along in the shadows and through the narrow passageways. Wretch however, was here for parts. Scavenging was good here, he had to admit, even with all the dangers and he wasn't going to give up a chance to steal from those machine freaks when they were busy beating up some fab-slaves. He was inspecting his haul in a isolated maintenance closet, listening to the sounds of distant gun fire and heavy machinery. "Well cover me in gold and call me a fecking saint, you're a nice little toy," he rasped to a very new cogitator part. It was at this moment that the closet door was opened. Wretch would find a mid age man with a scraggly Beard and tattered overalls looking at him. The man's eyes wide with surprise, obviously not expecting to come face to face with anyone here. --- Out in the main foundry works, Vinz would see a group appear at the main entrance. The group comprised of about four men and an ogyrn, yet it is the man leading the group that sticks out. Even from this distance, the tall red hood adorned with a skull and halo of some kind is visible. As the group move deeper into the foundry, their are signs of workers stirring, either to get out of the way or to take note of the newcomers. Their direction is clear to all, for at the rear of the main works, elevated as to oversee everything, is the foremen's office. The square office is these days more eerie and foreboding than it was under imperial control as birds gather and circle around it these days. Something that never occurred before. At this moment, it is one of these birds which land on the railing beside Vinz. It stares at him, tilting its head from side to side. With a ruffle of its shimmering black feathers, it even dares to squawk at him. |
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cyg
Junior Member
Posts: 58
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Post by cyg on Dec 13, 2022 18:02:38 GMT -5
As the door open, Wretch turned and let out an hoarse croak, eyes widening at the sight of the new comer. The man looked just as shocked, the even more as Wretch pulled out one of his auto pistols and aimed it at the bearded man.
“Now, you’re not gonna do anything stupid right?” He asked, sneering with his fangs. He wasn’t about to give up this much work over some mangy worker. Slowly he started gathering the stolen, scratch that, liberated goods and stuffing them into the duffel bags he. He kept two of his eyes on the man, and a gun trained in him.
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Post by theredauthar on Dec 13, 2022 21:39:22 GMT -5
Vinz hesitates, but only momentarily. He frowns revealing his sharp teeth, "I do not care for your attitude, fowl. I'm already in an unpleasant mood, do not foul it up more."
A pun. Frak. He's been reduced to punning to himself for some form of entertainment.
The frown turns to a snarl, "Blood and Thunder, you know as well as I do that this isn't going to last long."
Snapping out his hand, like a vice, he attempts to seize the bird from its perch on the railing.
++TheRedAuthar Request: [[4d3 f1 t3+1]] Roll: [2, 2, 2, 1] Result: 0++
"Frak"
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Post by hobbsy on Dec 18, 2022 1:50:27 GMT -5
As the door open, Wretch turned and let out an hoarse croak, eyes widening at the sight of the new comer. The man looked just as shocked, the even more as Wretch pulled out one of his auto pistols and aimed it at the bearded man. “Now, you’re not gonna do anything stupid right?” The man, his eyes fixed on the produce weapon, ever so slow raised his hands to either side of him. At first he remains as still as the pillars of the foundry. Though as time passes, his fright is soon replaced by impatience. Finally, he musters the courage to speak up. "Listen um... Mate? I'm not here to cause trouble. All I need is that wrench beside you. I'm expected to be back with one by now. The longer you take, the more likely someone will come. Then we may both be in trouble, you understand?" The bird, as if expecting some show of violence, darts to be out of reach with a quick flap of its wings. Yet it would seem the birds confidence is its own undoing. The flap is not enough, as the vice like grip closes around the bird's body. Although it is now held tight, it still manages to give a squawk of confusion. |
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cyg
Junior Member
Posts: 58
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Post by cyg on Dec 19, 2022 0:45:17 GMT -5
Wretch twitched as the man moved his hands up, but held the gun steady. He was more than wary of anyone claiming just to be doing a job, he’d heard that plenty. He glanced over to the wrench leaning on a pipe, something he’d also thought of taking, but it was just a wrench. But if this would drag more people in on him he didn’t feel like taking it. They might not be so willing to let him take his hard earned work with him.
Something pricked the back of his mind then, one of those impulses he got sometimes. He smiled, all fangs and pale lips, and reached out to grab the wrench with on oh his feet. He was sure the man shuddered, but he grabbed it and moved it towards himself.
“So you need this huh?” He said, holding the wrench in one hand. His smile widened and took on a cruel air. “Then you better start running.”
And with that, Wretch dropped the tool between to pipes, hearing it clanking and ringing as it feel into the bowels of the factorum. He cackled, like paper being crumpled, and started towards where Vinz was.
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Post by theredauthar on Dec 26, 2022 23:35:38 GMT -5
Vinz is a little bit amazed that his clumsy attempt actually allowed him to grab the bird. He holds it a moment unsure what to do. Then he looks it in the eye, “Tell you what, if you survive this, you come find me okay?”
He then lobs the bird down towards the red-hooded man as hard as he can.
Vinz Forceful Roll: [4d3 f1 t3+3] Roll: [+, +, , -] Result: 4
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Post by hobbsy on Jan 8, 2023 18:04:30 GMT -5
Wretch dropped the tool between to pipes, hearing it clanking and ringing as it feel into the bowels of the factorum. He cackled, like paper being crumpled, and started towards where Vinz was. The sound of clanging metal was joined with the curses and swearing of the worker. But both quickly faded as Wretch took his leave as he found his path realitivly clear. Although other workers passed the damnable soul, they either didn't notice him or payed him no attention if they did. Such creatures are not uncommon these day in the foundry. Vinz is a little bit amazed that his clumsy attempt actually allowed him to grab the bird. He holds it a moment unsure what to do. Then he looks it in the eye, “Tell you what, if you survive this, you come find me okay?” He then lobs the bird down towards the red-hooded man as hard as he can. The bird seem to tumble through the air at first. But then, as if by some unseen guidance rather than the birds own desire, it seemed to right itself. Though too late for any change in direction. From his vantage point, Vinz got a clear view of the bird colliding with the skull at the top of the mask figures hood. The resulting show can be considered a comical sight. The bird, somehow trapped in the skulls mouth, frantically flaps to free itself. The hooded figure, franticly holding onto the hood as to not be unmasked. The acompaning servants, frozen by the lack of ideas to aid their master. The ogyrn, having an idea, claps both the bird and the top of the hood between his two meaty hands. The ogyrn grins as he separates his hands and wipes the mess on his chest. The hood, now stained with blood and feathers and lacking its' original structural integrity, flops over the vision slit of the hood with a wet slap. A voice, like an ill wind, whispers in Vinz ear (or possibly, even his mind). "Just as planned." |
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Post by theredauthar on Jan 9, 2023 1:05:37 GMT -5
Vinz is quite impressed with his own handiwork in the scuffle below. It didn’t turn out quite like he planned but entertaining none the least. He smiles pleased with himself. A voice, like an ill wind, whispers in Vinz ear (or possibly, even his mind). "Just as planned." Vinz’s smile fades. Just as Planned. The plan was to keep watch for Wretch. He’s letting himself be distracted again. Where was that mutant anyways?As these thoughts run through his head, he subconsciously reaches for the broken blade he was playing with before, spinning it again in his hand before setting it down again. Just as planned…
Just as planned…
Just as planned…He eyes the blooded hood. Just as planned…
Just as planned…
Blood for the Blood God…Blood for the Blood God…Blood for the Blood God….Wretch might need a distraction right? It would be a shame to not attempt to take a Skull right? |
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cyg
Junior Member
Posts: 58
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Post by cyg on Jan 9, 2023 20:23:14 GMT -5
Wretch still chuckled, quietly, to himself as he wriggled through the back passes and vents. He always felt a bit better after making someone's day worse, took his mind off the itching. Dammit, and it was back. His chuckle faded as he continued out of sight till he got to the correct hatch. Throwing the bag over his shoulder he grabbed the level and pulled it open with a loud squeal, but there should only be Vinz, and there he was staring over the edge of the railing. There was a quick thought, just a fleeting thing, nothing he would have acted on, but for a moment his mind conjured up a vivid scene of his knife sinking into the bastards back and him falling over those railing all the way to the bottom.
Wretch shook his head. He didn't dare try and attack Vinz, the man was easily twice his weight and all of that looked like muscle. Plus Wretch had seen him be stabbed enough times to know it would probably just piss him off. Shifting his bags he walked over, putting a mostly genuine fanged smile on.
"Okay boss, got it all here. Heh those servitors didn't even see me coming, nabbed a good deal from some cogitators too." he said as he got to Vinz side, and his smile faded. Vinz had that look, the kind that was very skulls and blood and axes. Quickly Wretch fished into his jump suit, switching out the Talisman of Tzeentch for the Brand of Khorne. Both were just some painted wire work he'd made but the gods didn't really seem to care about that.
"E-ehem, so boss what you looking at?" he asked quickly, hoping to divert some of the attention.
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Post by Fate's End on Jan 10, 2023 23:19:58 GMT -5
He was here. That was obvious. Of course he was, where else would he be but here? You were always here. And never there. Except for Ruse, she was sometimes there. But mostly here.
Ulv though. Ulv was here. The Foundry. People tended not to tell him no, when he moved forward. And so that's what he'd done to get to . . .here. Just keep moving. An Ogryn, especially a slab of muscle and anger like Ulv, armed with a brutal looking gun and a wickedly sharp sword, was not someone you casually stood in the way of. And so, finally, Ulv was at the Foundry. Just as planned, just as he had been ordered.
There was only one problem. He couldn't quite recall "why" he was here. He knew Ruse had sent him, he knew she needed something from here. But what it was . . . he couldn't recall.
Had she told him?
Maybe.
Well, probably.
Almost definitely, now that he thought about it some more.
But he couldn't remember what it was. Maybe it was the annoying screaming, or that odd thwack sound as some poor fool had their head caved in by---another Ogryn. A crooked grin split Ulv's lips. He could smell blood, fresh and fierce. The other Ogryn had fethed up. Killed the wrong man, thing, creature, whatever. He hadn't paid attention to them really, though he realized he must have been following the Ogryn and the other humans for at least a minute or . . . whatever came after a minute. A minutes? That sounded right. Now though they had paused and he'd caught up. And then the other Ogryn had squished someone's head. POP. Just like that. POP.
He considered what to do, standing just a few dozen feet behind them. Finally he laughed, the guttural sound echoing throughout the foundry. "You done squished the wrong head, little man!" He bellowed at the other of his kind.
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Post by hobbsy on Jan 11, 2023 19:34:48 GMT -5
Finally he laughed, the guttural sound echoing throughout the foundry. "You done squished the wrong head, little man!" He bellowed at the other of his kind. The ogyrn looked back at his kin with a strange mix of confidence and confusion. "No I didn't." He grunted, "I kill da...". His voice trailed off as he looked to his boss. The foremen flipped the messy remains of his headwear behind his back with another sickly slap. It now resembled more of a bloodied night cap rather than a hood. "O... boss, has 'aos given you da power to have no 'ead?" The ogyrn final continued, now only confused. If there was a reply, no one in the foundry would hear it. For what had started as souly the ogyrn's laugh had been join and now was continued on by another figure. Up at the top of the stairwell to the foremen's office, a familiar figure to the workers laughed with twisted glee. The figure also wore the uniform of a foreman, yet his features were hidden by an open hood checkered with arcane symbols and hexs. "Just as planned." he cackled, his voice carrying over the entire complex. For Vinz, the words seem to invade his mind, as if the voice he had heard before was now repeating itself. At the same time, as if on command, two more of the birds of the foundry landed to perch on Wretch's arm holding the talisman of Tzeentch. "My god has a funny sense of humour, wouldn't you agree Foreman number four?" the figure continued. Below on the foundry working floor, the other foreman tilted his head back and raised his voice in reply. "Indeed Foreman number nine. But tell me, how does the rest of your work force feel about your god's sense of humour?". At his words many of the workers begin to grumble or acknowledge the statement, filling the building with a low buzz of noise. Some even dare to yell a quick jeer or curse. The foundry's furnaces brightened and flared as the tension began to boil. |
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Post by Fate's End on Jan 16, 2023 0:36:13 GMT -5
Ulv blinked. He did what could mildly be called a double-take. The other Ogryn's boss hadn't been squished. Ulv was . . . surprised. He thought about if he had tried that maneuver. Ulv didn't think he could manage not to squish the man's head. Ulv was . . . almost impressed. "Good on you, then." He called out, somewhat annoyed at his error. These men were apparently foremen. Whatever that meant. Probably leaders, bossmen and bosswomen. None of them held a candle to his boss. None of them were even a match compared to her greatness. He pushed forward, trying to ignore the idiots around him, trying to think hard on what Ruse had sent him here for. What had it been?
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