Fighting an endless gang war over the underhive and across the ash wastes is guaranteed to work up an appetite. There’s no way the members of House Goliath can maintain that much mass without constant doses of protein – and the occasional pre-packaged sandwich from a Promethium Refuelling Station just won’t cut it.
That’s why everyone on Necromunda absolutely loves heaped servings of delicious corpse-starch – at least, according to the corpse-starch marketing board. This morbid ambrosia doesn’t grow on trees,* and that’s where the Corpse Guild makes its bacon. Er, figuratively speaking.
Known officially as the Mercator Pallidus, the guild dispatches its Corpse Harvesting Parties to collect the raw… materials… required to supply each hive’s corpse grinder plants.
Led by the Pale Consorts and their Bone Scrivener attendants, these parties act as prospectors of dead meat, hunting rich seams of “freshly” disposed bodies ripe for recycling. When war rages between rival gangs, these graveyard gatherers are on the scene to harvest a fresh corpse-crop.
Staving off the scent of death with ornamental rebreathers, they poke and prod their quarry with surgical tools to determine their worth – before the Pale Consort orders her Corpse Grinder heavies to hack up the unfortunate acquisition.
Corpse Harvesting Parties can get a little… overzealous. Post-battle, any fighter who suffered a Critical Injury might suddenly, inexplicably, stop moving. The Scrivener will pass any indigestible valuables on to you, but no-one’s going to see that ganger again – except in a particularly juicy pie.
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* Or rusty struts, moss-coated pillars, fungal stanchions, or whatever passes for a tree in the underhive.