Zzodzog's Ambition Campaign Prologue - First Contact

Campaign Prologue

Zzodzog strode out onto the roof of his workshop. The grim and jagged
Tower of Kontrapshuns loomed behind him as he approached the battlements.
Peering down into the valley below, he saw the town.

Junktown it was called. The pyres were roaring orange and red, and the
sounds of a settlement of greenskins rang out over the desolate lands
around; the fighting and yelling and laughing, the sounds of engines being
revved and shootas being shot, and choppas and fists and heads clashing.
It was like music to his one remaining ear.

Zzodzog hoised up a huge piece of kit onto his shoulder. It was his new
invention he liked to call the Supershokk Kannon, and it was built out of
his old Shokk Attack gun. About it were rigged some large power generators
that glowed blue and red in the night, and his subordinates scurried about
them twisting dials and turning knobs and hammering things and drilling
things... but the Big Mek grew impatient.

"Readyin' da first shot, now!" He bellowed. He grimaced at the ork town
below. So many pointless lives. Orks were in no short supply, and quite
frankly they were expendable, and would be the test subjects for Zzodzog's
new weapon. He braced his feet against the steel flooring, and leered;
"Turn it up ta elevun!" He said, and squeezed the trigger.

The huge kannon hummed and throbbed, but at first did little else. Until
with a mighty kick it crackled into life. The whirly bits whirled and the
zzappy bits zzapped. He aimed the hooverin' toob at the snotlings piled at
his feet, but as many of them scarpered he turned it on a large pile of scrap
to his side; anything that would get sucked up and sent through.
The gun vibrated more intensely, and Zzodzog tightened his grip. The humming
and whirring and crackling grew to deafening levels.
"MORE POWER!" He bellowed over the din. "TURN ON DA ORKZILLARY POWER!"
Many of his lesser mek's and oilers had long since sought cover, but those
brave (or stupid) few who remained did as their master ordered.

The town below was sent into an uproar. There was a mad scramble of orks as
they clamoured to escape the chaos. Snotlings, squigs, tools, jagged spears
of metal, and other random things started appearing in their midst.
Suddenly, at one end of the town, there was a crackling eruption of purple
lightning that lashed out around it, tearing into a nearby bunker.
Another blinding explosion of green electricity burst forth on the far side
of Junktown.

One of the mekboyz approached Zzodzog and tapped him on the elbow gingerly.
"Uh, boss? Is dat s'posed to 'appen?" He pointed down at the bursts of
lightning in the middle of the town. But before he knew anything more, a
deafening explosion and a brilliant white light engulfed him suddenly. He fell
to the deck and covered his head, and after the noise and electricity died down
he dared to look up. Big Mek Zzodzog was nowhere to be seen.

Zzodzog dropped his gun to the floor and rubbed his eye. After regaining his
senses he saw that he no longer stood on the roof of his workshop. All around
him was a ruckus. Orks punched and bashed and shoved their way around, trying
desperately to grab their guns and extinguish fires and finish their beers.
"Wotz you done, you maniak!" Came the sharp, raspy voice of Painboy Skruffa.
His buzzsaw was on and spinning madly in a threatening fashion, but Zzodzog
simply turned away from him.
"Dey iz comin'!" Shouted one ork running away.
"Dey iz 'ere, dey iz!" Yelled another as he scampered past.
Zzodzog's cybork eye was drawn to the far side of Junktown. Through the mad
throng of orks rushing here and there, he made out a large impact crater and
within it there throbbed a strobing yellow-green light, which crackled with
arcs of lightning, and its epicentre twisted and distorted inward like a whirl-
pool of purest blackness. It emitted an intense heatwave that warped the land
around it like it was bending the fabric of reality itself.
Zzodzog lowered his gaze to the lip of the crater, and from the black vortex
there issued forth a steaming river of yellow sludge which streamed and bubbled
and gurgled over the edges of the crater, and from its gooey midst he saw strange
things clawing and clambering out. They stood tall, and gangly, with long drooping
arms clutching at foul, darkened blades. They oozed with green and yellow puss,
and their faces were twisted and horned and bent into a grotesque cyclopean visage.
Others were a strange shade of pink, and hopped and bounced with their long
limbs to ensnare their foes, throwing pink and red flames about them and gnashing
their enormous bills or maws lined with needle-teeth.
Zzodzog grabbed a tankard from a passing ork and downed the lot in one gulp.
He soon felt better, but then his focus returned to the interloping creatures
and he huffed. He stooped to pick up his Shokk Attack Gun again. Unfortunately,
his untimely teleportation had left the power generators back up on his roof,
but his gun should still have enough back-up power to work. He just needed some
ammunition...

Hoisting his weapon, Zzodzog let out a loud bellow.
"Listen up, ya runts!" He shouted at the orks scrabbling about him. "Get yerselves
in check. We gotz a fight on our 'ands, 'ere. Wot you all scurryin' about like
mangy grots for? If yer act like grots, then I'll send yer through my Supershokk
Kannon and y'ull really 'ave somefink to be scared of!"