The War for Sump Sink Seventeen

Updated: 2026-02-26

“They said the lower sectors were dead. They were wrong - they were just waiting for someone worth killing.”

This is a living, open-ended Dominion Campaign set in the disputed underhive zone known as Sump Sink Seventeen - a sprawling network of collapsed hab-blocks, polluted waterways, and forgotten industrial infrastructure sitting beneath Hive Primus. No fixed end date, no fixed player roster, the campaign persists as a shared setting that gangs move through, leaving their mark on the hive as they rise, fall, recruit new blood, or disappear entirely.

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 INTERCEPTED VOXCAST // HIVE PRIMUS UNDERHIVE RELAY
 FREQ: 44.VII.SUMP // ENCRYPTION: NONE
 ORIGIN: UNKNOWN // TIMESTAMP: CORRUPT
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 [STATIC]

 ...don't know if anyone's still listening on this freq.
 Relay's half-dead. Doesn't matter. Needed to say it out
 loud before I lose my nerve.

 I've been down in Seventeen for eleven weeks. Came in
 through the Spillway with a crew of eight. There are
 three of us now. Marten walked into a flooded corridor
 on day six and the water took him without a sound. Just
 gone. Vex and Harlow got into it over a crate of charge
 packs and Harlow won. The twins vanished somewhere past
 the old pump station. We heard them on the vox for two
 more hours after that. Laughing. Neither of them ever
 laughed like that.

 The upper levels aren't so bad. The Sprawl, they call
 it. Hab ruins. Market stalls held together with wire and
 stubbornness. People live up there. Fight up there. Die
 up there for scraps and pride and the right to call some
 mouldering ruin theirs. You can almost pretend it's
 normal.

 Go deeper and it changes. The Drowned District is where
 the water won. Tunnels half-flooded with runoff that
 glows if you look at it wrong. Machinery that runs
 without power. I saw a pump station cycling fluid through
 pipes that haven't been connected to anything in decades.
 The gauges were reading. Something is using it.

 And below that - the Sump.

 I only went down once. We found a stairwell past a
 collapsed manufactorum, still intact, going down further
 than our lumens could reach. The air tasted like old
 metal and something else. Something sweet. Milo said it
 reminded him of the chem-vats in Dust Wall. I said we
 should go back. He said he could see light at the bottom.

 There was no light at the bottom.

 We found walls covered in writing. Not Gothic. Not any
 script in the Imperial record. Old. Older than the hive.
 And the sounds - not echoes, not settling metal. Movement.
 Deliberate. Patient.

 Something lives down there. Something that was there
 before any of us. Before the hive. It has been quiet for
 a very long time and I do not think it is quiet any more.

 The gangs keep coming. Pouring in through every crack in
 the upper levels, fighting over ruins and calling them
 kingdoms. They don't know what's underneath them. They
 don't care. They will.

 I'm leaving tonight if the Spillway is still passable.
 If you're hearing this and you're thinking about going
 in - don't.

 But you will anyway.

 [STATIC]

 [SIGNAL LOST]
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