+ inload: Ironstaff Throng +

+ Adding to the Ironstaff Throng +

+ A review of the Necromunda Ironhead Squat Prospectors +

+ Squats! New squats. From Games Workshop. Intriguing stuff, and being a bit of a fan of this long-lost faction, I pre-ordered the Necromunda Ironhead Squat Prospectors as soon as they came on site. +

+ The pinks are for an Emperor's Children project, you might (or might not!) be relieved to hear+

+ The box contains two identical sprues, each allowing you to build four Squats. The models go together quickly and smoothly, and result in a burly and broad finished figure. They are on 28.5mm bases: slightly smaller than those of Primaris Space Marines, but larger than that of Guard infantry and the like, which are on 25mm. This gives a deceptive appearance. They are slightly larger than I'd anticipated, but not as large as I was fearing. +

+ Pictured here, in what might be the least useful scale comparison picture ever, is one built virtually stock, besides a Rogue Trader classic (the Piscean/fishman/saharduin) and another modern remake of a classic, the Ambull from Blackstone Fortress. The Piscean is on a 30mm base, same as a Space Marine; the Ambull on a 50mm base. +

+++

+ Gut reaction +

+ My overall reaction to having one built is fairly positive. I love the core silhouette. Once the two halves of the torso are connected, and the legs added, you have a great core figure. I'm less immediately sold on the the heads and arms, however, as they add a huge amount of bulk that cover up a lot of what I like about the figure. +

+ As you can see from the more useful scale reference picture below, they're not, as some were fearing, as tall as modern Imperial Guardsmen, even taking pose into account. It is, however, notable that they are bigger than the fantasy dwarfs – the converted figure on the left is based on an Kharadon Arkanaut (the steampunk sky dwarfs), for example, and they themselves are larger than the older Ironbreaker etc. models (Dispossessed). +

+ From left to right: converted Squat, new Ironhead, Death Korps plastic, Forgeworld Cadian + 

+ A few years back, I posted a tutorial on how to convert Squats from the then-new Warhammer sky dwarfs (you can check it out here, if you wish [+noosphericinloadlink embedded+]), so my view of how reimagined squats could look is probably coloured a bit by that. +

+ Nevertheless, I like the result. For a start, it's considerably more creative than my attempt, which mined the 2nd ed. plastics and contemporary dwarfs very closely. The new Necromunda squats take their inspiration from elsewhere. Indeed, I think they take a lot of their design cues from 'Iron Bonce the Squat' [+noosphericexloadlink embedded+] (not least their name), the first space dwarf released for the then-new Rogue Trader – no bad thing; it's nice to change things up a bit. +

+ Let's take a look at some of the other bits and bobs of the new models. +

+++

+ Beardie-weirdies +

+ I read some pre-release fears that the heads weren't 'squatty' enough, and didn't have enough facial hair. For anyone on the fence owing to this particular concern, rest assured that all five of the head options include facial hair, ranging from a full set to some powerful mutton chops. +

+ Let me be clear that it's not the aesthetic of the heads that I dislike, but the decision to use a ball-and-socket approach. In all honesty, lack of beards is not something that would have put me off anyway, but I like the decision to include them nevertheless. Beards and dwarfs seem to go together in sci-fi and fantasy, and part of me prefers the more subtle facial hair here than the flanderised alternative. Giant beards are a key part of the Warhammer dwarf archetype, but I don't think they're quite so key to squats. Even the original squat plastics had relatively short or restrained beards in comparison with their Fantasy battle compatriots. +

 

+ Having said that, I do think it's a valid point that they don't look like they have beards from the studio's stock shots. This is partly because of the angle of the shots (the lower part of the face is often hidden behind the high collar of the suit), and partly because of the separate visors, which further cover them up. +

+++

+ Any bad bits? +

+ Few reviews of Squats are going to be entirely free of 'grumbling into beer', so I did want to flag up a couple of bits that I was disappointed by. Firstly,  let's address those visors. While a nice nod to Ironbonce, and eminently practical from real-world safety principles, it's a shame to cover so much of the face. On my build below, I trimmed away a little at the back to allow it to sit a little higher, revealing more of the face. +

+ I also left off the backpack and cut away the second barrel on the gun; mainly to clean things up a bit. +

+ Secondly, the sprue has a surprisingly small number of options. You don't get enough weapons to give everyone two-handed rifles without doubling up the heavy, and the few options there are are limited to grenades and the like. I would have vastly preferred some extra heads or characterful bits like the Goliath cigar to multiple visor options. This is something that I hope is addressed in an upgrade sprue or alternative expansion sprue (as the other Necromunda gangs have received) so consider this judgement in light of the likely appearance of that. Perhaps further releases will make this early one sing. +

+ Thirdly, and my biggest grumble, is the head recess. It's huge, and makes using parts from other ranges much harder. Perhaps it's a design feature that will be shared by the upcoming Leagues of Votann (the other new squats) models, but at the moment it's just annoying that the Ironhead prospectors aren't compatible with any of the existing dwarf ranges from fantasy – or indeed anything else. If you don't like the super-wide helmet aesthetic, you're a bit stuck – and that ties back in to the lack of options. Even one or two unhelmed heads would have been nice. +

+ One stock and three lightly converted figures +

+ Fortunately, it's not an insurmountable problem. As you can see above, a lump of plastic offcut can raise a Fyreslayer, Arkanaut or Dispossessed head to an appropriate height, though you'll also need to carefully trim the beard of the donor model. The results above will be improved by some greenstuff around the recesses to tidy things up, but you get the basic idea. +

+++

+ Conclusion +

+ How do the new squats measure up? Despite my critique above, I think these are lovely little models. I always try to avoid expectations on redesigns of older models, as I always value someone trying something new and creative over being slavish to the past. While these don't quite scratch the itch for me as stock, I am very pleased with them once converted, and I'm excited to see what everyone else does with them. +

+ Most of all, however, I'm most pleased that the new squats are good solid models in their own right. I don't think that you need be nostalgic for the old models to find these appealing, and the designers should be congratulated for that. The Squats have lurked for so long that almost anything would have been borne some serious weight of expectation – and I'm pleased to say that, overall, I think they stand up to it, straight out of the box. +

+ Overall, bar a couple of grumbles, these get two mechandendrites up. +

+++

+ Ironstaff Throng +

+ The Ironstaff League is the little space I carved out for Squats in the PCRC's shared sector, Antona Australis. The background can be seen on the blog here [+noosphericinloadlink embedded+], and was my attempt to integrate Squats into the 40k universe, and includes a bit more Warhammer dwarfiness than what we've seen so far. Fortunately, I think such differences add to the richness – you might think of the Ironstaff League as a slight cultural outlier, rather than completely incompatible. + 

+ It's largely because I already have some converted figures that I decided to convert my Ironhead Prospectors. In other words, had I not already converted some squats, I'd probably have left the models unconverted – because for all the minor grumbles above, I do think the new models are very characteful and appealing. +

+ What I have done is to include some more of the Celtic/Brythonic design language – knotwork, filgree etc. – common to Warhammer Dwarfs, and largely absent from the new models. I have done this sparingly, as I think there's a fine line to tread between homage and caricature. Indeed, part of me admires the GW designers' decision to avoid such design language completely, as it makes a definite statement of intent that they're not beholden to the past in the relaunch of the Squats. +

+ Despite this, there's no question that the new models do stand out from the rest of the force. I don't think that's necessarily a problem – indeed, if anything, it gives me a bit of space to have these as some sort of specialists – perhaps I'll use them as heavy-weapon wielders or something, given the unusual way their weapons are held compared with my existing models. + 

+++

+ The chap with the banner is a loose nod towards the old hearthguard models, and that's something that I think I'll experiment with for the other sprue. Having a squad of clearly bigger and brawnier figures, with bulkier armour and equipment, makes should work well to mark out the Warlord.

+++

+ The new figures are pictured here alongside my conversions. Further releases  and a coherent paint scheme will hopefully further blend away the differences; but I already think they'll look nice on the table together – what do you reckon? +

+++

+ inload: Iron Sleet invitational +

+ Forgive a little self-indulgence; I finished my contribution towards the Thorn Moons Crusade [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+] last night, and am really looking forward to sharing them. +

+ I'll do my own little rundown on the figures after the event, as I took the opportunity to try some techniques and ideas that had been bubbling away for ages. Not everything worked perfectly, but I think that's rather the charm of creating something utterly fresh, and with a set time limit. It helps to focus the mind! +

+ Anyway, I'm waiting with baited respiro-autocycling to see the other 99(!) contributions – a stunning response that really goes to show quite how inspirational, productive and active the Iron Sleet blog – and the broader Inq28/Blanchitsu noosphere – can be. Thanks again, Toni and the rest of the gang. +

+ In other news +

+ The PCRC's Necromunda-expy, Golgotham, has a new noospheric node – Hive Confronsis [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+]. This is a bit of a new thing for the PCRC, and we'd love it if you want to follow along – so come have have a look. Things are still being bolted into place, but there's some lovely colour text and ideas already fermenting away in the tabs at the top. +

+ inload: Map of Hive Confronsis – Golgotham +

+ Map of Hive Confronsis +

+ I think this probably speaks for itself, but here's a map I've drawn up for our Necromunda campaign, set in Antona Australis, on the world of Golgotham [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+]. +

+ If you'd like to use the map yourself (perhaps for your own campaign), here's a larger version – you should be able to click to embiggen it, then save it down. +

+ If you do, please let me know through the commentary inload form below – I'd love to see it in the wild, so to speak, and hear how your campaigns are going. +

+ inload: Scenery building for Necromunda +

+ Scenery for Golgotham +

This one's name was Viggsy Carbolic, a verti-docker working the breach from the filtration districts down to where the Chemsalt Opens began. Every morning he woke up to the distant cry of ratowls out over the cavernous sea chambers; eyes sore, muscles tight across his back.

Muscle. That's what Carbolic could provide. He'd be introduced to me as a useful man to have in a tight spot; ex-ganger, ex-dealer, ex-enforcer – in-house, of course; the 'Ficials wouldn't have taken a second-look at him – and ex-criminal. 

'That's a lot of exes,' I'd commented, when we'd met at last. His scarred old face had pulled up into that sad, distant half-smile I'd later remember him by.

'You should meet the ex-wives.' 

I'd grinned. In truth, Carbolic was over-the-hill – an old man of nearly thirty, and already showing the greying skin of oxide build-up that takes us all in Water IV. Still, there was something about him; and the Throne alone knew that I couldn't afford to turn down a proper ganger; not when the rest of the block was skinny, excitable juves and a few loosescrews who couldn't make ends meet elsewise.

'So why the change of heart, Carbolic? What makes you want to get back into the game?'

Again, that sad smile. He didn't catch my eye; kept looking down at the pitted old table.

'You don't choose gang life, Fito. Gang life chooses you.'

+++

+ Water filtration district +

+ A small gathering of the PCRC at the weekend saw us beavering away to build some terrain for the upcoming release of Necromunda. +

+ Between Warmtamale, grahamgilchrist and myself, we've put together a very dense little 2 x 2 board – or more likely, enough to cover a 4 x 4 in a more practical fashion. +

+ The core of the water filtration district is one of the individual Sector Mechanicus boards that GW sell for their Armies of Parade event. A swift bit of hacksawing down one side of the road gave us an imposingly large wall [+vis-ref above+], which we then built up into a box with a spot of impromptu carpentry. +

+ The concept for the piece is a water-processing facility; one of thousands in the hive. Wickerwater, in the Vice IC district, has been loudly chugging away for the past four millennia or so, converting chemsalt- (and worse) polluted water that condenses and trickles and collects down the hive into potable (well, 'potable') water for the industrotech workers nearby. +

+ There's still a lot to do – greebling on the 'top deck', tidying, and of course painting, but we're really pleased at it so far. +

+ The underlying structure is essentially a huge pipe that just out of the wall, passes in front of the huge aquila – for, after all, the water must be purified spiritually as well as physically. +

+ We wanted to create a sense of 'monolithic claustophobia' – huge basic structures that are covered in a tangled wormery of pipes and walkways that have grown up like weeds over the centuries, so we included bits from a variety of sources to give a hotch-potch feel of varied tech-levels. +

+ Timber repairs – perhaps once temporary, but now as essential to the structure as anything else sit alongside the crumbling mechanical sections and dangling chains. +

+ There's a lot of height here – I think the highest point is about two foot off the surface! – which I hope will make for fun gaming. There's a balance to be struck between spectacle and playability; so a number of large chunks of the piece are separate, so that we can disguise the underlying pipework structure to a greater or lesser degree. Thus, Wickerwater will be able to double up as other areas; and is also practical for full scale 40k games, where such dense terrain is not always so desirable. + 

+ inload: Hive Confronsis +

+ Golgotham: Hive Confronsis +

Planetrise: From the pock-marked moon of Foretithe, the blighted planet Golgotham emerges over the horizon. The second moon; Corest, is visible on the left of the image.

 + Like most hive-cities of Golgotham, Confronsis runs on hyperfedual lines; with a few powerful spire families extending their patronage glutinously and insidiously into the depths of the hive-belly, where the industrotech clans – great organisations of affiliated family groups roughly equivalent to nation-states – toil ceaselessly beneath the ever-watchful eyes of the spires and authorities in order to feed the rapacious needs of the Imperium at large. Beneath these in turn are the benighted inhabitants of the largely lawless underhive; who live brief, scuttling, parasitical lives of equal parts freedom and fear. +

+ The Spire nobility +

+ Like a maddeningly vast tree or fungus, wealth is drawn ever upwards through Hive Confronsis, out to orbit. The dynastic spire houses jealously guard exclusive rights to communication with the outside Imperium; maintaining their position through strangleholds over advancement and development. The methods for this vary from house to house; but the oldest and most powerful houses operate every means at their disposal – legal and clandestine. +

+ The hypercompetitive nature of life on Golgotham means that the noble houses of the spires are united in just one thing; pursuit of advancement. True charitable works and attempts at general improvements for the populace are, for the most part, long-forgotten – such experiments leading to exploitation by competitors, or causing riots amongst the ever-suspicious industrotech clans, who fear alteration in the status quo. +

A typically well-equipped bodyman of House Graveney.

+ There are a few dozen noble houses; with a population running in the low millions between them. All own controlling stakes in at least one spire, while the most influential – Houses Serpentine, Graveney, Ur, Falconbrook, tegeus-Cromis and Neckinger – dominate swathes of the skyline as well as substantial holdings in the hive itself. Similarly, all will have vassal and allied industrotech houses that operate exclusively for the nobles. Many also have a – carefully shrouded – hand in the underhive; exploiting every possible source of wealth or power the hive has to offer. +

+ As long as they pay their share of the planet's ruinous tithe, Imperial Commander Barquentine – the Planetary Governor – is content for the heads of the houses (generally termed the paterfamilias or materfamilias) to operate as they see fit. Generally, this means appallingly aggressive – and often blatantly immoral or illegal – acts are commonplace. While open conflict between the noble houses themselves is rare (though far from unheard-of), proxy wars between the forces of the industrotech houses that are tithed and bound to the respective Spires are near-constant, as the noble forces tussle for power and influence. +

+ While there are wastrels, fever-seekers and fops in every house, the nobility of Confronsis are monstrously capable and marvellously astute – and to cross them is to be drawn almost inevitably into sadistically protracted ruin to serve as an example to others.

Many bored spire-dwellers become thrill seekers – some so criminally as to attract the attention of the Inquisition...

+ Brat gangs +

+ The children and scions of the Spire nobles are, for the most part, spoiled; wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. Most are rigorously trained; indoctrinated and cultivated as potential successors to the head of the household, for even within the household proper, there is intrigue and danger. Granted influence, power and wealth, most are completely divorced from the realities of life in the hive; and regard the industrotech and underhive populace as a form of game or vermin. Many so called 'brats' form gangs and delve in search of danger and excitement, baiting and killing the very source of their wealth by engaging the industrotech guards in firefights – simply for the thrill. +

+ One might think that such gangs would be no match for the underhivers, but no noble house lasts long without a core of steel. The children of the spire nobles are clandestinely equipped with the best the Imperium has to offer – many indulgent noble houses openly tolerate such 'hive safaris'. Many brats are stimmed with combat drugs, genhanced, or trained by family militia bodyguards. Even exotica as personal protection fields, automedicae and similarly advanced tech is not unknown to the brat-gangs. +

+++

+ The Industrotech clans +

+ Numbering in the billions, the industrotech populace of Golgotham eke a tiring, precarious existence of production, deprivation and daily risk. Their lot is the punishingly physical labour that keeps the crumbling manufactories, refineries, mineheads and mills of Golgotham operating. Most live in cramped cell-quarters near – or even within – their dangerous, noisy workplaces; rarely straying beyond the confines of their occupation. +

+ Bowed, malnourished and resentful, the bulk of the industrotechs are monitored and driven to such disspirited levels of exhaustion that meaningful rebellion is kept simmering; though protests and riots are commonplace. Equally commonplace is the brutal punishment laid down on such rebels; both from without, by the militia of the House's noble sponsors and the Enforcers; and from within, by the House's own internal forces. +

+ Most industrotechs live from hour to hour, avoiding conflict and finding what diversion they can in prescribed diversionary holos and the Church. Of course, with such a vast populace, it is impossible for the overseers to monitor everyone – resources are thin, and impoverished prefects easily bribed. Grey and black markets abound around synthohol, narcotics, pitfighting and other semi-tolerated diversions. +

+ Crime, both openly violent and the less visible – such as smuggling, protection rackets and gambling – is common. As a result, all inhabitants of Hive Confronsis will bear a knife, hatchet, shortsword or club as a matter of course. Most will carry an improvised firearm of some sort; with many clans issuing signature or honorific weaponry to their workers. +

+ The minor houses + 

+ The vast majority of the population belongs to – or is indentured to – an industrotech clan, or house – the terms are interchangeable. The minor clan-houses – of which there are thousands – tend to be broadly related in massive extended families sharing a distinctive genotype, though exceptions to this are common enough. Small and relatively nimble, the minor houses operate in unique and constantly adaptive manners, producing short runs of a dizzying variety of materiel and product as licenses expire or tithes are withdrawn by sponsors for faults or errors in production. While a vast quantity of materiel is exported from Golgotham, this represents only a tiny proportion of what is produced – most is swallowed up by the hive-cities themselves. +

Low-ranking overseer-adepts of the Mechanicus are a relatively common
sight on Golgotham, though they are rarely tangled up in gang-fighting.

+ So diverse and large is the industrotech population – even within a single hive like Confronsis – that it is hard to make sense of the melange of cultures and subcultures that make them up. Most of the minor industrotech houses produce goods under monotask license to the Forge Worlds of the sector; stamping out arms and armour for the Imperium's armies alongside agricultural gear for the sector's agriworlds; and gewgaws and fripperies for the civilised worlds. An industrotech might easily spend their adult life as a factotum; moving just one arm in an endless action, stamping out near-worthless keyrings or plastek novelties for distant planets. +

+ Few minor houses make a large profit – there is little incentive, as excess is skimmed off by the protectionist nobles; and obvious growth will lead to raids from and conflict with rival industrotech houses. Most minor houses are grindingly conservative; favouring stability – however gloomy and thin – over additional danger. The minor houses jealously guard their slivers of territory – which may focus around a warehouse district, group of hab-blocks, or perhaps a refino-mill and its surrounding spoilheaps. The territories are as varied as any one might imagine; and limited not to the horizontal plane – indeed, many mining clans will control great vertical shafts through fathoms of the hive, taxing travellers who use these useful means of ascent. +

+ The major houses +

+ Houses that do successfully make a break for profit can find themselves elevated into the major houses – those that can afford to dominate and control subservient minor houses; or completely annex and exterminate them. Such events – where a new major industrotech house expands its ancestral territory – is inevitably the result of bloodshed, and usually leads to further conflict. Most such attempts result in the destruction of at least one minor house; its scions being enslaved or forced into the underhive as they lose what little protection the ancient clan-territories could provide. +

Ill-starred mercenaries, like deserters from the guard or
abhumans are tolerated at midhive, Some achieve notoriety.

+ The result is a new extended clan that combines to form a major house. Some are alliances tempered in blood, with two or more previous rival clans combining permanently through intermarriage, ritual vows of mutual kinship, or through more esoteric means, such as genesplicing or body-piloting. +

+ More commonly, one clan will become dominant over another, forcing the members of the lesser house into a subservient existence as thralls or bondsmen. Subservient houses generally form an oppressed slave caste; branded, electooed, maimed or otherwise marked as 'undermen', and gradually exterminated over time by giving them the most dangerous roles of all, or forcibly tithing them to the Guard draft. Particularly ruthless (or paranoid) house masters will lobotomise their serfs to become automats; deny them breeding rights, or simply chemically/physically castrate the workers to prevent a future rebellion while maintaining their ability to labour. Such is the brutal reality of life in hive Confronsis. +

+ The major houses form their own tier within the hive proper. Able to afford, bribe or bully their way into prime locations near the hive skin or the great thermal vents at the core, the major houses have extensive territories that are (relatively) well-powered or include views onto the outside world. To modern eyes, such a view – of a chemically colourful ash wasteland covered by brooding, churning clouds – would be terrifying, but to a hive-dweller, seeing a horizon is a thing of such wonder that many attribute to the outside world a holy quality. +

+ At the current date, there are thirteen major houses; all bitter rivals. Each has its own distinctive characteristics from long-held prejudices, specialisations and beliefs. Hugely varied, each major house of Confronsis has its own form of government, its own culture, and its own indentured militia, which serve as part of the Planetary Defence Force. These forces range from the lithe and subtle warriors of House Demogorgon, to the muscle-brutes of House Ordovic, and the violence-choirs of House Sephulcrave. +

+++

+ Industrotech gangs +

+ The hive is vast and echoing. Seething though it is with humanity (and other denizens), vast though claustrophic tracts are unexploited. While the industrotech houses have large territories, these are continually shifting. Unfortunate outlying habs can be cut off from house territories by attack or natural disaster – indeed, there are tales of isolated habs remaining under siege for months or years before succumbing. Unless an area is important to a house – such as containing a taxable link to the heatsink ,or providing some particularly valuable export, many houses will simply write off the losses because reclaiming them is economically unviable. +

+ It is not just possible but commonplace for entire complexes of warehouses, throughways and hab-blocks to be lost as a result of hive quakes, plagues, internecine conflicts or population migrations. Officially restricted from exploiting such neutral territories, it is the gangs of the industrotech houses that explore and exploit such areas. +

+ In addition to their official militaries, all of the major industrotech houses overlook a semi-tolerated gang culture that operates beneath scrutiny and without official support. These provide the houses with groups of unbalanced, frustrated or potentially dangerous house members who are encouraged to explore the hive, raiding, disrupting and unbalancing rival houses – or finding rich plots of land to exploit. Word travels fast in the warren-like bounds of the hive, and a gang that manages to find a route into a warehouse or isolated settlement will soon find itself having to fight to maintain its territory. +

+ While their activities are de-facto criminal, gangs provide kin of the house with much-needed protection, comradeship and a substitute family structure. More importantly to the industrotech house councils is the fact that the gangs – often workmates – work more productively together, and act as a permanent watch and defence against attacks – from rival industrotech houses, from spire safaris, and from uprising underdweller groups. +

+ Gangs are as varied as any group of humanity. Some favour a unifrom paramilitary appearance; others revel in individuality. Distictive and extreme clothing and hairstyles; along with piercings, tattooes, and body modification are common amongst the underhivers – and more so amongst gangers. There is no such thing as a typical gang, but some name themselves after their territories – Cromerty Piston Killers, the Eighteenth-Parallel or Gutterwell Boys are example – or a particular ritual practise; such as the Headtakers, Widowmen or Mara Cavorta. Still others pick a seemingly meaningless, intimidating or even whimsical name – the Yellow Henry Gang, Black Gates or Whistling Sheers. +

+++

+ The Underhive +

+ Beneath the spires, beneath the belly of the hive, beneath even the lowest of the minor industrotech houses, are the twisted and tangled tunnels and caverns of the planet's surface itself. Remnants of ancient mines and ruins of the original settlements, the underhive is where the lowest of the low can be found – scav-gangs, scions of vanished or destroyed minor houses, escaped slaves, abhumans and mutants like the near-mythical vermen all make an uneasy and uncertain living here. +

+ While the hive proper sees gang warfare between rival houses, the underhive is the true palette for the artistry of gang warfare. Here, there are no enforcers to sweep down; no house militia to scatter the small gangs. In the underhive, the heaviest of weaponry can be deployed; proscribed drugs and practices indulged, and the worst crimes of all committed in the name of wealth and personal power. It is a heady cocktail for the young men and women that make up the gangs... +

+ The underhive of Confronsis is lethally dangerous, with precious and long-forgotten technology mingling with brutal chemical pollution. Deluges of literal acid rain – formed by the gradual leaching of chemical waste from uphive mixing with the steamsweat of the populace – is a continual threat, and the thick, close air is tainted with metallic air-borne gasses and poisons. Movement of the hive itself, as it settles further into its agonisingly prolonged but inevitable ruin, sends great gouts of dust and ash shooting up from ancient shafts and tunnels as they collapse; and yawning sinkholes and pits can open up with little or no warning. +

+ The tangled territories of the underhive do not directly contribute to the hive's wealth or society; nor do they benefit from the uncertain benefits of 'trickle-down wealth' that supposedly benefits the industrotechs. Down at hive bottom, banditry and raiding are near-essential to survival. One is either a killer, or a victim. +

+ Nevertheless, there are some things found in the underhive that are found nowhere else – great vaults of archeotech, exploitable hive fungus and direct power couplings are just a few of these. All are of immeasurable value to the industrotech houses and beyond; but too unpredictable to waste already desperately-thin resources on exploiting. This is left to the gangs, who descend to fight each other and claim the spoils. +

+ Known semi-permanent areas of the underhive +

+ Chemsalt Plain: 

+ The Great Brown Waste: 

+ The Crumble: 

+ Shelftown: 

+ Fastnet: 

+ The Bight:

+ inload: Golgotham +

+ By Gas Mask and Fire Hydrant: Golgotham +

(With apologies to M. John Harrison and the authors of Confrontation for the amorphous kitbash of their ideas and writing!)

[+noospheric inloadlink embedded+]

+ The Planet + 

The world that came to be known as Golgotham was settled – as far as the Imperium's patchy and unreliable records can tell – as a mining and manufacturing planet nearly 14,000 years ago. In its purpose, little has changed in the ensuing millennia. Encrusted with manufactories, processing facilities and refineries; and pocked with mines, docks and launches, little of the surface is visible. Nothing would be familiar to the early settlers: the oceans have been reduced to shrunken chemical sludge-ponds, the mountains razed to rubble, the topography churned and devoured by the ravenous demands of the Imperium.

The great urban developments – combined housing and factory blocks known as hive-cities – have swelled and proliferated to form great carbuncles that far overtop the lost mountains of ancient times, after which many are named. Sections of these ever-growing hive-cities have expanded, collapsed and broken out into divided city-spires, each building on the ruins of those that came before. Groups, or 'Clusters' of hive-cities that sit closely in geographical terms form interconnected and entwined structures as their roads, tunnels and flight paths form physical networks that mirror the electromatiic, telegraphic and psychic communication networks. Between these clusters are the vast deserts of industrial ash that cover the surface of the planet with a mobile, corrosive skin. Over this desert lies a cloud layer of airborne pollution, so that the great spires of the city hives rise from a drifting mist of tainted vapour like islands out of the sea.

Despite its environmental decline, Golgotham remains productive; and thus of importance to the Imperium. Its natural resources long-depleted, the waste-heaps of previous generations have become a new source of riches. Indeed, the populace, high-born and low alike, are united by the necessity of reclaiming everything – from the food they eat to the air they breathe – from the accumulated wastes of the declining, exhausted world. The planet lives by dint of autocannibalisation; and it is wholly reliant on imported or synthetic nutrition. As with hive cities across the Imperium, each incorporates numerous factory-clusters dedicated solely to converting used organic matter – all organic matter – into synth-food. Real food is an expensive luxury for the most prestigious and affluent aristocrats; and little more than a myth to the bulk of the hive-dwellers. 

It is unlikely that the population will ever be tallied; and all estimates are almost inevitably laughably inaccurate; because like all hive worlds, Golgotham's population is vast. An attempted census of just the uphive zones of a single comparatively well-ordered Hive, Confronsis, recorded over a billion inhabitants; but the hive proper sits on a vastly larger warren of abandoned factories, overbuilt habitations and other ruins; whose enormous population can only be guessed at.

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+ What is Golgotham? +

+ In short, it's the thinly-veiled ersatz Necromunda – as you've probably guessed from the suspiciously familiar text above; which is a quickly and loosely rewritten version of the original Confrontation background – which can be read in full through the noospheric inloadlink above. +

+ I personally think this introduction to the planet was never bettered, and not having such detail present in the later release of Necromunda was a terrible shame. Sure, it was 'god-level narration', but having comparisons with the real world made it all the more clear what a crapsack world the planet was. +

+ With the new Necromunda out soon, the PCRC are starting to get enthused; Golgotham is the result. The gangs of the PCRC will be duking it out through the underhive (and beyond?) or Hive Confronsis. By shifting the setting to Antona Australis, we've bought ourselves a little freedom. Different members will be adopting the familiar Houses – this might be as simple as a change of name, or might be a full rewrite and reskin of the underlying house tropes. +

+ What am I doing? +

+ Rather neatly, all of us seem to like different gangs, so there's not going to be too much overlap – though even if two PCRC members want to play (say) Orlocks, it's easy enough to use the same rules but have two separate Houses in the background. +

+ I'm going to be taking the pseudo-religious/mediaeval aesthetic of House Cawdor as the root of my gang. The eponymous Gretchin of Greenstuff Gretchin [+noospheric inloadlink embedded+] recommended In Viriconium, a fantastically evocative series of vaguely-linked and aggressively non-genre stories by M. John Harrison to me a while back, and reading that has really sparked my imagination. +