A short story telling the series of events to make this model possible: http://privateerpressforums.com/show...eme)-Deathjack
Written by my brother and I with my girlfriend editing. We don't proclaim ourselves to be writers in any sense, and apologize if this turns out to be a painful experience, but hope ya like it
Artwork of two characters here: http://privateerpressforums.com/show...r-amp-Daughter
So here we go...
Rebirth of the Deathjack
Chapter I: Leftovers and Scraps
“Nothing useful.” Nando Corazo muttered in disgust, wiping the blood and dirt off his hands as he straightened up from a squat, giving the corpse he was searching a light kick in frustration. He turned the rifle he’d looted from under the body over in his hands, sighting along the barrel. It normally would have fetched an okay price but for the damage to the action. It turned out that the bullet that killed this poor sod hit the ejection port on the rifle, rendering it little more than a chunk of wood and metal.
“Come along, Rena.” Nando called to his daughter, who was a couple yards off, idly drawing in a patch of mud with a twig. Nando smiled as he reflected on how children could find simple amusements among such carnage. Since his wife died and his farm failed, he and his daughter had been reduced to drifting from place to place, and looting corpses in battlefields for anything they could sell or barter for a few days’ food and lodging. A child’s joy was hard to find in such situations, but most precious when it did turn up.
Rena scooped up her teddy as she turned and ran towards her father, a young blonde girl of 8 years. She beamed up at her father and proudly held out the small handful of crowns she managed to scrounge out of the dirt. Nando smiled and ruffled her hair, pocketing the meagre bounty.
“That’s my girl.”
They moved onto another area of the battlefield continuing their search for items of worth. Rena, squeezing her bear, followed close behind her father, her tiny fingers clutching tightly to the hem of his shirt, eyes downcast.
What lay before them was particularly horrific. Throughout the battlefield so far, most were slain by sword or firearm, but the bodies found here appeared to have been ripped apart by some sort of beast or worse. The acidic smell of burnt and rotting flesh amidst the gore was evident, and closer inspection gave light that some of the formless masses on the ground may have once been human. In the center of these ruined bodies lay the wreck of an old labour jack.
Nando took in these surroundings, mouth agape. He had seen many of the terrible things men do to each other on the battlefields he scavenged but had never seen anything like this.
“Can we leave Daddy? This place is scary.” Rena murmured, tugging Nando’s shirt.
He wanted to go too, his daughter was not the only one that was scared. Unfortunately, they needed whatever they could find if they were to survive. Despite the carnage before them, he was certain that there would be something of value, something to make it all worthwhile. He felt that something was telling him so.
He led her to a large rock and sat her down on it, giving her a hug.
“Not quite yet, but soon. I just need to see if there’s anything we can use over there. You stay here, try not to look and keep an ear out. Ok?”
She nodded with a small smile, ”Alright daddy.”
“Good girl, I’ll be back before you know it.” Nando said as he stood up, giving her a quick peck on the forehead. “Holler if you hear anything.”
He began scrounging through the site, inspecting the slain soldiers’ effects, careful to avoid the ones who had appeared to have been doused in some sort of acid. He didn’t want to find out just how corrosive that stuff was firsthand; the smell was enough. All in all, not nearly as fruitful as his previous certainty had suggested. Most of their weapons lay as broken as they were. Now that he had a closer look at the slain men, he began to wonder. He and his daughter had been travelling for some time and he had never seen any kind of beast in the area that could do this kind of damage to so many, let alone spray acid. At this realization he stood up and scanned the area, eyes narrowed.
Nando’s eyes finally settled on the ruins of the old labourjack about 100 meters away in the middle of the carnage. He shrugged and started towards it, some nameless force driving him onward with unexpected urgency; by the time he reached the old ruins he was running at a dead sprint. Dropping to one knee, Nando gasped for breath, his lungs and ribs burning from the exertion. When he had composed himself and glanced up, what he saw made him gasp, falling over onto his backside.
“Thamar’s Teeth” he whispered, taking in what he saw. In front of him was a grotesque, black-steel spiked skull resting by the ruins of the old ‘jack. The metal showed absolutely no signs of damage, a warped reflection of the surrounding devastation visible in the smoothly curved, unblemished surface. The three spikes rose up from the forehead and crown of the skull to wickedly sharp points. Nando knew instinctively this thing was evil; the sunlight coming from above seemed to steal the warmth from his flesh and even the ravens and other carrion birds fell silent. It radiated pure malice. Every time he tried to look away, however, some unheard voice turned his attention back to it, bidding him nearer.
Tentatively he extended a hand to the skull, lightly brushing a finger against the cold, smooth surface. Even as he wrapped his hand around the edge of the thing and began wrestling it from the damp earth, he acknowledged he shouldn’t be doing this, but it was likely the only thing of even remote value left in this hellish place.
Leaning back, Nando pulled on the skull, finally tearing it from it’s resting place. He rose with his prize, grinning as he felt a sense of accomplishment that far outweighed the task just performed. He turned, about to tuck the skull under his arm, when he heard his daughter scream.