Suburban Warfare
NEON NEXUS
Prologue: A Shocking Vision
At first Skratch saw the blinding lightning and then he heard the rumbling thunder. The noxious fumes of digging in-between realities had been clawing away at Skratch’s mind, and the hallucinations had been getting more-more intense. Ever since they had breached that gods-gods forsaken place and he and his rats had been digging.
He recalled the shiny chrome creatures that lay in their tombs sleeping. Electricity pulsing through every square inch of the place, a steady thud-thud-thud that coincided with a higher screeching of electricity arcs. He quickly ordered his Stormfiends to grab every metal object they could find as he made his way deeper into the tomb. After a few turns through meandering passages, he sniffed the charged air and placed his hand against a large object to rest. No sooner had he done that, it sprang to life. Electricity arced from the device and slammed into his arm burning it away with a pain Skratch had never felt before in his short life. As suddenly as it began, it stopped and Skratch was left with a stump where his arm had been. He could hear the thud-thud-thud even stronger now, in his ears and in his chest. The screeching became even higher pitched, and closer together until there was a sudden stop to the cacophony of noises.
Then the bass dropped.
Skratch knew what he had to do. His underlings stared at him in extreme concern as he began to dance erratically, jumping, kicking, and punching the air.
Eventually Skratch had his largest and strongest rat ogor grab the device and return it to the gnaw hole. As the tear in reality began to heal, he ordered his underlings to begin tunneling to the mountains of Ghyran. As he returned to his quarters, he began to feverishly send messenger rats to those he knew would answer his call.
The Neon Nexus
A festival held every year for a full week on the Isle of Neos. It was once a humble gathering of people celebrating the Lifebloom on Neos. Based on one of the most powerful nexus points on Neos, it radiates magical energies that allow the ravers to continue dancing long after they should have fallen exhausted. This year’s headliner is DJ Grung, a famous pirate in the airs of ghyran. His music captures the hearts and souls of everyone. His collaborators this year are DJ K-Slay and DJ Swampass.
The Festival Begins
It was a fine day as the breeze blew through the forests of Ghyran. DJ Grung was sleeping in his captains’ quarters; his snoring intermingled with the soft breaths of the two aelves sleeping to each side of him. Until there was a hard knock at the door of his quarters. Grung rolled over and buried his head under the pillows, wishing to sleep for just a few more minutes. The knocking became harder and louder until it stopped, and a muffled voice could be heard behind the door.
“Do it,” There was an ear shattering explosion as the rather expensive mahogany door was blown to splinters. With that Grung bellowed with anger and grabbed his two duardin pistols from their hiding places and began unloading them towards the direction of the door until they were empty. “Grung!” the voice yelled from through the smoke, “You’re late! Your set starts in half an hour!”
“Just ten more minutes!” Grung bellowed back, “And you’re paying for that mahogany door!” The form of an orruk was barely visible, and Grung threw his now empty pistol at the shape, it was able to dodge the first one, but luckily he had a gun for every occasion and threw his other pistol slamming the shape square in the head and the shape fell to the floor, likely concussed. The two aelves finally roused from their sleep with the final slam. They both smiled at Grung and he laid back in bed “Ah ladies, shall we continue?”
“Grung! Get out here right now!” the lithe shape of DJ K-Slay popped out from behind the corner now that the coast was clear. “Now we’re late and Dj Swampass has a concussion, again.” She grabbed the top cover of the bed and ripped it off revealing three additional hobgrots below.
Grung grabbed the tankard on his bedside table and grimaced when he realized it was empty. “Alright! But I need more booze!”
Party All Day
The festival was in full swing as Grung’s ship flew overhead. He could hear the cheer of the crowd as they caught sight of his airship. With duardin precision he jumped from the bow and allowed his harness to float him down the rest of the way to the stage. DJ K-Slay made her way down jumping from the airship and floating to the metal girders on her wings then down to the stage. DJ Swampass took a long swig from his trusty drinkin’ mug, adjusted the skull on his back and jumped to the arms of his adoring fans below.
The ship began to belch light fog, obscuring the field of view of everyone. Ensorcelled lights sprang from points on the ship and lit up the arena with a rainbow of color. Two enormous monoliths on the side of the mountain began to screech and thud in a musical concert. Skywarden dancers floated through the air on devices that defied the gravity around them. Lights reflected and refracted off their devices, casting lasers in every direction.
With a sudden screeching DJ K-Flay flew to the stage. The music began once again, livelier than before. With practiced grace, K-Flay danced along with her music. Singing and floating from one side of the stage to the other. On the field below Sisters of Slaughter danced around a neon Avatar, praising the festival with bloody ecstasy.
The music began to beat even louder and lower than before. Hobgrots began to cheer and beat anything near them in unison to the waagh’ beat. Be it their chests, the ground, or the occaisonal head of a nearby Hobgrot. The crowd began to scream waagh as mosh pits erupted among them. Bouncing from pit to pit was DJ Swampass, until two trolls threw him up on stage with sheer brute strength.
Eventually DJ Grung floated back to the stage. DJ K-Flay joined them not long after. The music began to change and fluctuate in beat and rhythm for hours long until the early hours of the next morning.
An Uncertain Night
Finally, after weeks of tunneling, Skratch’s underlings feverishly broke through to the realm of Ghyran. Below the great mountain range of the isle of Neos known as the Great Wound, Skratch and his underlings began to tunnel everywhere. Cave-ins were bound to happen, and many vermin lost their lives to the errant explosion, but eventually the tunnel system was complete, and Skratch had deployed his Rave-o-Tron Face-Melters below a strong grouping of magical nexuses on the isle. The Rave-o-Tron Face-Melter 3000 was the newest Rave-o-Tron model. It converted the super charged magical energies of the festival goers above, mingled them with warp energies and powered the laboratories of Skratch and any excess could be stored for later use for his various death machines. Now with only a 10 percent chance of serious mechanical failure!
But, if the whispers of his messenger rats are to be believed, dangerous warbands lie on the horizon. Simply the thought of losing his free energy source angered Skratch incessantly, but he knew that the only way to keep his labs safe would be to team-up with the topsiders above and fight off the interlopers.
So, after the ravers had fallen asleep upstairs, he brought the three leaders down to his caves below. Skratch was silently cackling to himself thinking how his plan was more than perfect! But then, the short dwarf awoke first.
“Damn it not again!” It produced a gun from somewhere, (Skratch knows not from where, for the short dwarf sleeps in only a loincloth) and fired multiple aimed shots at Skratch’s head. They would have hit had it not been for the energy brimming around him, creating a force field around him.
K-Flay and Swampass awoke and began to get ready to fight, but Skratch held his hands high and squeaked, “Wait! I come in peace fellow ravers!”
The top siders stared at the mechanical rat before them. He was dressed in loose fitting clothes, and he had a crudely built festival totem coming from his backpack. His arm had been replaced with a mechanical monstrosity that moved as fluidly as any other living being.
Skratch hit a button next to him, and his favorite screeching and thudding noises began to play. They all stood there watching Skratch dance and flail around with the beat until the music abruptly stopped, and Skratch held a ‘ta-da’ pose. Swampass broke the silence first. “Let’s keep him!”
K-Flay reluctantly agreed and eventually, so did Grung and so the Neon Nexus grew in number as DJ Skratch joined them.
Epilogue: The Great Horned Rat Is Always Watching
Skratch entered his chambers and collapsed after a full day of partying. He threw his backpack to the furthest corner, but he could still hear it ticking away. The skull on its back grinning, the eye shining red and menacing. Every day it ticked closer to that day he had heard in his head.
“Adep-ta-kon”
Whatever it was, he knew it wasn’t good. But that would be a problem for another day, and he drifted off to sleep.
PKredki 
Leave a comment