The Moot
Twenty time twenty days had passed and red storm clouds gathered on the far horizon. And at Windgrip the elders called for a Moot of the Yaike Yaike tribes. And the Children gathered, tribesmen eyeing each other suspicioulsy. And yet, no one drew a weapon while the warleaders and tech-wytches sat in council.
In the shantytown of Notever, Beetle of the Stash Riders squared up to Great Father Arun of the Purebred. The callous Kastorax of the Slipgibbets poured his vicious poison into the hears of Captain Blitzer of the Ashtown Wasters.
Revenge Beetle sought, for the attack on Solitude, and addledly he swung his chainaxe at Arun. The lies of the mutant fell on deaf hears and Blitzer's hammer fell on Kastorax.
The Vulture strode onto Notever and moved to the side of Hijack of the Slipgibbets.
A dire omen this was. Blitzer seized on his stimms, falling to Kastorax feet, there to be punched by the tech-wytche's electroprod.
Arun and Beetle duelled on. And around them the tribesmen started to realise the Moot was over.
Kastorax shouted at his vile henchmen, claiming they had the favour of the ancient Rustman. But the lies of the mutants could not be allowed to endure. Calling on Da-Ar-Vin to guide his hand in cleansing Tor Megiddo, Warfather Jax riddled the hunchback with bullets.
And then, with grenade and pick, the Slipgibbets vented their hanger on anyone around them.
The poisonous breath of the Wasters' dusthound was the downfall of Warfather Jax. He fell, as his Great Father succumbed to the many wounds he had suffered at the hands of Beetle.
But the Stash Rider's triumph was short lived. Cable of the Slipgibbets blasted him with his grenades, leaving him at the mercy of Smilin' Merc of the Ashtown Wasters.
And then, Red Wind returned. And ash and dust rose. In tunnels and caves the Yaike Yaike hid. Great victories had the Purebred seen on the Ashtown Wasters and the Disciples of the Black. Burning defeats they had suffered at the hands of the Stash Riders. And though the Purebred had raged more fiercely than the Red Wind itself at the Slipgibbets, the vile mutants would still have claimed greater respect at the following Great Gathering. In the bunker where the Purebred females were kept safe, there sat Great Father Arun, to counsel with Mahela the Keeper of the Flesh. For Red Wind would have gone and war would have come back.
The Cargo of Drywaters
Deep in the bunker where the Purebred females were kept safe, there sat the Keeper of the Flesh. The Tarots of Tor Megiddo spread in front of her, Mahela saw a Colossus dumping its cargo at Drywaters. And she knew that on that day glory awaited the Purebred in Drywaters.
Thus the scattered wealth of scrap-tech attracted many to Drywaters. From the east came the clanging of the Ashtown Wasters' armour. From the west, the filthy Slipgibbets advanced. And from the south, the Purebred saw it all.
And men and mutants scrambled around the shantytown, stacking claims on any tech whose spirit weakly flickered. And shots rung and flames roared and grenades burst. And men and mutants fell and run away.
Taken between two enemies, the Purebred suffered much on that battlefield. And yet, a single man did not weaver.
On that day, Yash the Blemished stood his ground. Till the Light was gone he fought, bleeding from many wounds. And as the Tarot had predicted, the precious cargo and glory were his to share with all the Purebred.
The Rout of Solitude
Of the Stash Riders it was known that they had never hold any land. Pillagers and looters, they stayed in one place until it was stripped of anything they could ingest to exite their burnt brains. And in Solitude, they had found a plentyful bounty.
Onto Solitude the Purebred advanced, Warfather Jax's heralding their arrival in a storm of bullets.
Emerging from addled stupor, the Stash Riders were slow to react and the Purebred entered onto Solitude.
And then, addled stupor turned into drunken frenzy. The Stash Riders fired overcharged plasma weapons and came out of their hiding places screaming and froathing at the mouth, no rational thought about themselves.
And so it was that the Purebred had to fall back, raging hot blasts churning the sand behind them.
The Fall of Crashpoint
And as the Great Warfather listened to the voice of the Vulture, Arun knew that to break the other Tribes, the Purebred had to take their strongholds and rob them of their privileges and claims. And so it was, that the Purebred took the road back to Crashpoint. There, the Disciples of the Black had returned after their champion's defeat in the Pit of False Hope, their High Wytche still ruling the settlement and all the land for a day travel in every direction.
And Arun split his warriors. With him, he took his own son Larg, Kurk the Blemished and Warfather Jax. In the shroud of the night, they took position around Crashpoint. And as the glaring Light rose on the red sands, at once they opened fire.
And though the return fire fell Larg, the Disciples did not realise they had been made to look in the wrong direction, not to see Warfather Dez crawling into Crashpoint. Raging flames flew from Dez's weapon and his dagger drank deep of the life blood of the Disciples.
Valiantly the Disciples fought and away they pushed Warfather Dez. But then, terror struck them as the Black they had so carefully preserved married the flames left in the wake of Dez's rage. Protecting their wounded High Wytche, they flew for the safety of the Scorched Plain. But there, as the Great Warfather had planned, were Eshelon the Rider and Yash the Blemished waiting for them.
And so it was that the Purebred claimed the charred ruins of Crashpoint for them, the long held privilege of the Disciple drifting in the sparks and ashes blown over the Scorched Plain.
The Caravan
And as the Purebred celebrated, out of False Hope the Slipgibbets went. And yet, the vile mutant never accepts its humbling. Greedy for the tech and food traded in False Hope, the Slipgibbets laid in ambush. Great was the loot they piled upon the Stranger, and on the red sands, it weighed the truck down. Slowly they advanced, ravelling in their impurity. And Great Warfather Arun swore he would make them pay the price of blood. And Commander Blitzer of the Ashtown Wasters threw his lots with Arun. Not out of rage at the mutant acted Blitzer, but coveting the spoils of its demise.
And the sudden allies rushed through the Scorched Plain, 'till the Stranger was in sight.
Loud rang Arun's voice, drowning even the bark of guns. Forward, the Great Warfather ordered the Purebred, and Dez' flames engulfed the Stranger. Out of the truck some Slipgibbets jumped and others cowered behind its armour. And bullets and grenades wistled and blasted and blood drenched the sand. Blitzer waded in, his hammer taking a great toll of the impure. And yet, the stranger ground on.
And then, the vile Hijack felled on Snapper.
And once again, the Vulture stepped out of the dust. On the Great Warfather, the Rust Man's gaze fell. And Arun turned to listen, for the grinding murmurs of the God Machines are said to reveal the future to those that can decypher them.
And with the Great Warfather's lead gone, rage overtook Dez, for Snapper was his loyal companion. Flames engulfed Hijack and then Dez turned his back to the Stranger to vent his hanger on the wounded Slipgibbets.
And then, it was just Eshelon the Rider and the Wasters to take the fight to the Slipgibbets. Again and again, they surrounded the truck. And yet, the Stranger ground on.
And then, the sands gave way to sulphur flats. On solid ground, the Stranger roared and away it went. Punishment had been dealt on the Slipgibbets, and yet they still held onto most of their ill gotten gains.
