by Rob (Meade)
Scaws of Transcore Hive
On the moon of Rhysia, a ruined forgeworld moon with grim secrets below it’s crust… mutants, known as scaws to the indigenous human population, stalk the ruins of the hives and the ash waste. Centuries of breeding in isolation, amongst the industrial waste has led to horrendous abominations. They have adopted a tribal society with the most hideous and powerful mutants as leaders, and survive by hunting the human survivors of the planet as well as lifeforms such as birds which migrate to the surface of the moon to roost.
Mkaz is a stubborn, grouchy mutant. It usually takes some prodding for him to tag along on any kind of adventure. He is highly intelligent however, and some say his arm has a mind of it’s own… or maybe it just seems that way because there are so many eyes peeking out…
Dag is second in command for the tribe and could easily be their leader… he has the combination of ruthlessness, intelligence, sheer size and powerful mutations.
Yggy is a skilled scout, adept at climbing, hiding, and throwing grenades with his tentacle arm.
Calb’s Dream: Part 6
…It was simple enough to peel away the razorwire, and he found a path through the barrier. He felt a change then… a passing feeling came over him, and suddenly the familiar world was behind, he was elsewhere. Soon enough, the towers and megastructures of the hive surrounded him. The ancient thoroughfares were no different than the pitted, towering karsts he had left behind… they enveloped him and swallowed up the sky. Acid fogs, that he knew jetted up from below, had bitten down like iron jaws on the city. Everywhere, the hive was crumbling… the gothic architecture was slowly forming piles as it crumbled off the sheer faces of towers. Below him, the ground fell away and passages into the abyssal underhive gaped wide.
Now was the time to hunt. He tried to keep out of sight, moving from ruin to ruin. He watched for sign of the scaws. There was crude graffiti everywhere in the city, and occasionally a primitive shrine, festooned with grisly trophies and canterbird feathers. He came across one, which it seemed had a burnt offering… he had no idea how old. The shrine was a twisted piece of metal formed into wings. It looked to him like an aquila. Could these creatures worship the emperor of man? It was a sad joke.
He found his way up one of the black towers. It must have been some cyclopean exhaust port when the Hive was still thriving, but had enough structure on it that he could find a foothold. There were a few bird roosts up there too, he gathered some eggs up. With that and his protein powder it was enough to keep him alive for now. He had a nice view of the thoroughfare he had passed through… it must be one of the ways in and out of the hive. From a vantage point he could snipe one of them, and be on his way home.
At first it looked as if everything was deserted. There were canterbirds, but most of them were migrating to the higher spires of the hive. He wondered how long his water and protein powder would last… if he waited too long, he would be forced to find sources of water. He watched the shadows of the ruins with his magnoculars. A few times he thought he could glimpse movement in the ruins. Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him. He had felt strange ever since he entered the city, but now it was worse. Not the fear that comes from facing down a monster, but a creeping sensation of being watched, of never being alone…