Road to Redemption (Necromunda) by Mike Brooks

Road to Redemption (Necromunda) by Mike Brooks

Author:Mike Brooks [Brooks, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Games Workshop
Published: 2020-03-28T00:00:00+00:00


Welcome to Deadwired

Smoke still hung in the air, thick and lazy, because the ventilation systems around Deadwired were mediocre at best, and the town had burned thoroughly. It gave a dirty, tainted tinge to the light of the lumens that had come up to mark the day-cycle, and Zeke found himself wishing that his mask covered his nose and mouth, so he might be able to inhale without taking down the scent of death and destruction. It wasn’t strong enough to choke, but it scratched at the throat with smoky talons, as though gently trying to claw its way inside you. Coughs rang out down the line of their procession, with sparing sips of water taken in attempts to quell them.

‘This is what happened to your home?’ Alin Choll asked as they passed between the first two blackened shells of buildings. The Delaque’s voice was even more subdued than its usual whisper-quiet, as though they were standing in a great cathedral, or perhaps a mortuary. Which they were, in a way.

‘Fire is fire,’ Zeke muttered, looking around him. ‘But, yes.’

‘You escaped something like this?’ Alin was looking around, one hand held over their face in an attempt to block out the worst of the smoke. ‘When the flames were raging?’

‘Jumped out of a window and ran for it,’ Zeke told them. ‘Hid in an old water still until everything had died down.’

‘Perhaps you are indeed blessed by the Emperor, yes?’ Alin said, shaking their head.

‘Don’t you start with that,’ Zeke muttered. ‘It’s bad enough that everyone else seems to think I’m Saint Ezra, or something equally ridiculous.’

‘Ezra? That doesn’t seem likely,’ Alin commented. ‘Kodran, perhaps.’

‘Saint Kodran?’ Zeke asked, incredulous. ‘The saint who walked unharmed through fire?’

‘He was always one of our favourite stories as children. And he would be a better fit than Ezra, yes?’ Alin pointed out. Zeke was about to protest when he saw the faint twitch at one corner of the Delaque’s mouth, and realised that Alin was joking with him. It didn’t help his mood, it just sent it spiralling downwards in a different direction.

‘I’d appreciate it,’ he bit out, ‘if you didn’t mock the saints by comparing me to–’

‘Spider!’

The shout came from back down the line. Zeke whirled, clawing his pistols free as a scream rang out, followed swiftly by others. People were scattering, panicking, but he couldn’t see clearly enough to get a shot. Then there was a flash of light and the sound of a detonation, and a many-legged body the size of a large child flew backwards away from the caravan, courtesy of what could only have been Grimbjorn Stonefist’s power hammer.

‘Eyes open!’ Zeke bellowed, fighting against the smoke that threatened to turn his words into splutters in his throat. ‘Everyone without a weapon, onto the crawlers! Everyone else, stay alert, there might be–’

Alin Choll’s stubgun coughed, the sound of the shot muffled by its bulky gunshroud, and Zeke whirled again as the ricochet whined off into the distance. No more than



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