Times are changing. Uncertainty is in the air, war is brewing.
Shining Falls used to be a beacon of safety and civilisation in the underhive, the constant stream of material and nutrients from the levels above pouring down through a rent in the hive’s fabric providing a rich stream of income for its masters, and as a result it was well-equipped and well protected. No gangs even considered trying to take over, the settlement’s guards wore full body armour and carried high quality weapons. Added to that, they outnumbered the local gangs several times over.
All that changed recently. The population of Shining Falls woke one morning to find the streets deserted, utterly devoid of the protective presence it had benefitted from for the entirety of living memory. Slowly, it became apparent that the guards weren’t coming back, and some of the braver citizens formed a delegation that made their way to the Governor’s compound. There were no guards there either, the weapon turrets guarding the gate stood silent, their protective guns unmanned, the gates themselves hanging loose from their hinges.
Cautiously entering the compound, the citizens were faced with a horrifying sight, the entire guard population of Shining Falls filled the area around the main building, but each of them lay still, brutal wounds across their bodies testament to the savage lethality of their attackers.
Amongst the carnage stood a single figure wearing a baroque suit of armour, twin blades protruding from each forearm, blood coating the blades proving that here was at least part of the force that had caused so much damage so quickly.
The figure slowly reached behind it, drawing forth a gruesome trophy, and casually tossed the Governor’s head towards the group of citizens, causing several of them to scatter from its path.
‘People of Shining Falls’ the figure hissed, its voice not much more than a whisper, but carrying effortlessly across the compound with all the dripping venomous menace of a sumpsnake.
‘You have become soft, fat on the spoils of the archaeotech horde you mine here. That will change, we have ushered in a new era of uncertainty, and you will adapt or you will die in the crossfire.’
With that, the figure sprang over the heads of the citizens with a single mighty bound, and was gone.
Since that time, the settlement had seemed like a ghost town, and any attempt to bring in outside help met with failure and the summary assassination of the instigator and in the following months, the gangs in nearby territories have gradually become more adventurous, eager to secure the archaeotech pile but wary of over-committing their strength to a failed coup.
Open war has not broken out as yet, but it is simply a matter of time before a drunken brawl becomes a lethal gunfight and gang battles break out once more in the streets of Shining Falls.