In the name of the inmortal God Emperor of mankind I deacon Malakev, write of the deeds of that most noble of men, the Redeemer, and his quest to rid Necromunda from filth and abomination, sin and mutation. So his beneficial acts may serve as inspiration to the members of our most holy order.
He it was, who from Hive Primus led us, to bring order and faith into the lawlessness of the Ash Wastes. Toxic was that desolation, yet he feared not the poisoned land, as he gathered us into the Wasteland Crusade.
There it was that we were cowardly ambushed by a gang of semi clad heretics. When we were carrying home goods taken from sinners guilty of crimes too hideous for me to mention (lest they pollute the mind of the reader)
Unjustly they fell upon us, true protectors of the faith, and their first salvoe crippled our beloved mobile aid to crusading: the Pulpitek
In all directions we scrambled from the burning vehicle, and despite my fervent devotion I began to doubt the assurance of our inevitable victory
Oh me of little faith! As ever the Redeemer was defiant in the face of adversity, and jumped onto the enemy sin conveyance, where he began to dispath heretic after heretic single-handedly
Great was his zeal as he smote left and right with the Sword of Persecution
As I lugged the Emperor's bounty towards our faith haven I saw his mighty duel against one of those most mercenary of all sinners, a bounty hunter
Rallied by his example, my brethen boarded that barge of sin, purging many an infidel
Alas, great was my consternation as the Redeemer was struck down and carried into the hold!
Despite such catastrophic a setback we kept on fighting, until the pagans, cowards as they were, ran for the horitzon with our beloved leader in their sinful clutches!
Great was my horror as I saw him disappear into the dust, the scant coin which I held in my hands paltry compensation for the loss of our holy messiah (and if I may be so bold, mentor).
It was then that I gathered what remained of our crusade to see what could be done: brother Berkark was quick to offer himself to "humbly accept the mantle of command" after the loss of the Redeemer, but I convinced the rest of the brethen that without the best of us we would surely perish, and our best hopes lay in rescuing him from the naturist heathens.