Ancient terran legends told of a mechanical saviour, one who theorised time travel was possible in his own lifetime and leaped into a primitive quantum portal to save mankind. Rejected by the very folk he came to save, they murdered him for crimes he didn't commit. But as he himself foretold, death alone would not hold him - so if his disciples had a problem, if they could find him, and if they could wait three days, he'd be back.
Arsus Christeneggar, Jarri!
Absolutely right, Blaargh, impressive mythology trivia knowledge! Can you say it twice more?
Arsus Christeneggar! Arsus Christeneggar!
Excellent work, Blaargh, you've completed the summoning ritual as practised by his followers. Why are we performing this primitive mumbo-jumbo for you, violence fans?
Because it's Murder Cyborg Night! Ayagagagagagagagagagagaaaa!
Nailed in one, Blaargh - it's a KnockRat Quarter Final, we've got the Corpse Grinders of Murder Meat...
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| Kasfunatu sponsors our blood brothers, led by King Burger |
...versus the Genestealer Cultists of the Afanc Fans...
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| Kraken sponsors our brood brothers, led by Clive Tyrant |
...versus our Risen Metal Lord, the Leadhead Godhead, Death's Own Carpenter - Arsus Christeneggar!
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| He knows now why you cry, but it is something he will never do |
Ooo! Shiny!
Secretly embedded inside a vat-meat replica of one of tonight's lucky contestants, this murderous AI machine is nearly death-proof itself. Worth a massive five points on the scoreboard, the only way to find it is to pull the faces off your opponents until it's revealed!
Just like in the downhive tooth lottery!
Our teams still score the usual points for beating the motherboard-loving snot out of each other, of course, but there's extra points for damaging the deathbot too, one per wound. It's not going to be an easy night for anyone out there.
But it's gonna be awesome for us!
Let's take a look at tonight's arena!
Four square standardised measurement units of gantry, bulkhead and molten steel! Yes, we've recreated this smelting plant as a tribute to the ancient scriptures, the one disciple Ripley threw herself into to save the Bishop from turning into a xenonewt. What's the famous quote, Blaargh?
Suffer, little children!
Nailed it again! You're like our saviour on the Tree of Woe!
What can I say, Jarri, I'm a big fan of dead religions - and an even bigger one of dead gangers!
The teams are in position - let's see where they've got to!
Pretty classic plays from both teams, Jarr, the GSC are in a big pack with guns to cover their punchy Aberrants. Their lone infiltrator is out front to stop the meat cultists getting too close, they know the Corpse Eater lifestyle!
Yes, abstract tactical thinking isn't the Grinders' way, and sure enough, it's textbook deployment. A spread-out line of beefy skinners and cutters along the back, boosted by the Cult Icon to keep them moving fast. Then a sprinkling of skinnier boys with ranged weapons danger close to the enemy, hoping to get the jump on them early and pin them in place until the carvelry can arrive.
You meant cavalry, right?
I know what I said, Blaargh. There's the klaxon - let's get to it!
Turn 1
Exactly as you'd think, Blaargh, the Corpse Grinders are pelting hell-for-leather from their end zone as GSC are immediately under fire in their home lines. Plucky initiate Fries has leapt out of hiding and let loose with his hand flamer!
Home cooking the hard way!
That's Brian O'Fecks flame-grilled but not killed - up on his feet almost immediately. Say what you like about GSC equipment...
Swear words, mostly, Jarr!
...but their hazard suits certainly keep the fire at bay! Fries is pinned in place by an absolute hail of fire from Clive Tyrant himself, the three-armed gunslinger, but he's not actually hurt.
Putting the barbs in barbecue, there's initiate Happy down south!
That's a lovely harpoon shot - three neophytes in a row is just too tempting a target. A wish and a shish, and he's got all three prawn-men on his line.
Two through the ear!
Yes, it's mostly cosmetic piercing there, but the aberrant in the middle is definitely skewered for good. At least I think he is, it's hard to see as the initiates behind Happy are throwing smoke bombs all over the place. As that clears, I think...
Is it?
...Yes! It's the second coming! He is risen, ladies and gentlemen, he is risen indeed!
MURDER CYBORG! AWOOOOOOGAAAAAA!
Scores: GSC nil, CGC 0 (the ooa champion became so by drinking the green slime on the floor after a flesh wound and then transformed into the Murder Cyborg. Never change, Necromunda)
Turn 2
The crowd are going absolutely ballistic here, Blaargh, this is a tremendous opener for the match tonight. Right in the midst of the GSC lines, Arsus Christeneggar itself. The neophytes are going absolutely crazy as they scramble away from it, trying desperately to avoid line of sight to its armoury of powerful guns.
Call 'em legion, for they are many!
There's just one cultist who doesn't seem to have noticed - Al Dwunai, the infiltrator, has picked himself and his bleeding ear up off the ground entirely oblivious to the killotron behind him, and he's taking a moment to put some fire into Murder Meat's firing position.
Happy's dodged the worst of it, but me oh my, look at Cheese and Onion burn!
Not for long - Arsus is clearly something of a firefighter, he's got a bolt pistol in each steel claw and he's letting rip.
RIP is the word!
Down goes Dwunai, Onion and Cheese in rapid succession, put down and out by the big steel bot!
Those big fellas have a hell of a turn of speed back there, Jarr!
Yes, encouraged by the icon-twirling of initiate Shake, the bigger butchers are closing fast. And as though wise to exactly this tactic, the GSC have put a couple of autoguns aloft on the gantries, and they've targeted the flag man! He's on the floor unhurt, but that means he can't keep up with his pals and they'll be losing the speed boost.
I wouldn't be firing warning shots out there, Jarr!
No indeed, Blaargh, a Necromundan warning shot is traditionally to the kidneys from behind, but from all the way up there they just don't have the precision. Meanwhile, Clive and his team have entirely surrounded Fries.
He's got more lead in him than a diver's boot!
And yet still somehow alive and firing, just as ineffectually, in return! Arnie Fecks, their remaining Aberrant, has considered charging in with his hammer, but he's stopped just short and is backpedalling instead. Is this a shootout or a mating ritual? I think we should be told!
Scores: GSC nil, CGC 1, Arsus' Killcount 3
Turn 3
A lot of space developing round the cyborg, not entirely of the gangers' free will. One of the neophytes tried to shoot it in the back, achieving nothing whatsoever, and it's more or less just spinning in place, firing with the kind of lethal efficiency the Administratum reserves for planetary tax returns.
If only the GSC could learn from that, Jarr!
I know, Blaargh - there's another round of gunforeplay around Fries up to the north. As the Corpse Grinder advance stalls, waiting for their icon to catch up, Clive Tyrant and his chums are shooting everything but the boy. Talk about useless firepower - it's like watching a Plague Marine trapped in a coconut shy.
A coco-what?
Sorry, Blaargh, more ancient history there. It's like a corpse starch weevil with no legs and less hair.
Gotcha!
Anyway, wherever the GSC are getting their shots to hit, they're failing to hurt. You get the sense the net is closing in on them!
Scores: GSC nil, CGC 1, AC Killcount 5
Turn 4
Shake has managed to catch up to King Burger's boys at last, so they're primed for their big push. Here it comes! There are cultists pouring out of the steelwork like screw-eels from a tankfish carcass!
Hoooba hey, that's going to get ugly fast!
Yes, the GSC have really gone nowhere since the match started, and although their gantry shooters are managing to keep something of a lid on the Grinder middle, pinning them with autogun shots and a webber, they're in trouble - Arsus has run out of nearby targets, so he's turning his guns on the snipers!
Just one gun, there, Jarr. The bot's gone through its ammo like a mutie with the munchies. It's actually tossing frag grenades up at them!
Watch those neophytes rain down off the walkway from the blast reminds me of your birthday pinata, Blaargh.
The one full of spook?
That's it! Whoa - nearly missed the actual combat there, I'm just hypnotised by Arsus. His first commandment is this, do unto others before they do unto you first, and it's one hell of a sermon he's preaching! Anyway - Fries is finally down, pancaked into a big lead coin by an Aberrant's hammer, so the scores are now neck and neck.
Scores: GSC 1 (a pair of initiates), CGC 1, AC Killcount 7
Turn 5
This is the big one! The Corpse Grinders are in position - it's time to chop suey!
Spabam! Clive Tyrant takes a couple of sawblades to the shoulders. From three to none, that's what I call a disarming technique!
Whop! Genestealer adept Dawn Queen tried to stop King Burger in his tracks with a needle pistol, and she might as well have tried to pass a camel through her ironsights instead. There's not enough of her left to fill a thimble!
Glaaaargh - flying giblets all over! That's how you know you got Skinners in your base!
Yes, it's like a blood-based fourth of July down there. Beautiful! Brings a tear to my eye.
AC is sure getting in the holiday spirit! Skinner Family Bucket has made a run for the murder bot, trying to get its attention so some of his pals can hit it from behind. Worked kind of too well!
Yes, a krak grenade to the gut for his pains is nothing to celebrate!
Scores: GSC 1, CGC 5 (a variety pack of murders), AC Killcount 8
Turn 6+
It's all over bar the screaming now, Blaargh, but I can't bear to look away.
Didn't the Corpse Grinders do this to the Malstrain in the qualifiers, Jarr?
That's right, they did. I guess they got a taste for the meat - look at them tucking into that Aberrant rib rack, barely even pausing to deploy the sauce bottles from under their aprons. Poetry in motion!
AC is finally taking some dings!
They might not be able to eat a Murderbot, but it won't stop them trying! I can't say that Quarterpounder and his rotary flensing saw have sneaked up behind it, because they went in screaming blue murder, but they've got it surrounded and on the back foot. Just a matter of time before he has to leave Easter, if I have the scripture right, Blaargh?
Yeah, Jarr, that's it, from the Cylons on the Mount!
Final Scores: GSC 2 (two more gangers), CGC 11 (another champ, two more gangers and four wounds off the Cyborg, not that it stopped it), AS Killcount 10
Satisfied, Blaargh?
I couldn't watch another drop of blood, Jarri, my eyes are full to bursting!
As Murder Meat go through to the semis, we'll be left hosing what's left of the Afanc Fans off the decking. Once Arsus Christeneggar winds down, anyway! Join us soon for the next bloodsoaked Quarter Final, violence fans, this is Jarribix Klabbs and Blaargh the Blemish signing out!
Ka-pletch!
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