As Inquisitor Delenthos, Grandmaster of the Ordos Historicus Veritus, stared down at the deck on the table he thought back to how many times it must have been handled over the years. A gift from his mentor, twelve to fifteen centuries ago and even then it was not new, yet the cards had no visible signs of use. Emblazoned on the back of each card was the old Ambaic rune for danger, a fitting warning for the Emperor's tarot cards.

Shifting his gaze to the eldar corpse splayed across the deck of his stateroom he was struck once again by the symbolism. The way his bolt pistol round had disintegrated the xenos' left shoulder had separated its arm from the body and twisted the torso around. Even for an avowed skeptic like himself there was meaning to be found when the eldar's death pose mirrored the shape of the rune.

Geltah's body lay towards the entrance if the room. He had employed many of the various warriors from the death cults over the years and thought them the equal of an eldar warrior in hand to hand. Thus it had come as a bit of a surprise the ease in which the eldar had dispatched Geltah. It must have been a very highly trained assassin. If not for a lucky, and admittedly somewhat panicked, shot he would be lying there next to his protector instead of ruminating over superstition.

He had been awakened from suspended animation only two months prior. The servitors he had designated to the task had performed admirably, awakening him when the astropathic code he had foreseen had been delivered. For three centuries he had slept based on his last reading of the tarot and so it seemed that the time was at hand.

The last two months had been a maelstrom of preparation. He had marshaled those forces still loyal to him and using his Inquisitorial writ as a blunt instrument had procured a small fleet of ships to transport them to the Petod system. Yet it seemed he was already behind....

Clearly the eldar were likewise prepared. Over the last few weeks as his agents began to report he read about death upon death of his brethren. How few were left of the Ordos Historicus. Veritus? Too many deaths over the last few decades to be coincidence, some other agency had plans of their own. Could it just be the eldar? How many years ago had they ordered this assassin here? How long must he have waited, concealed in the ship for this strike? How great was the eldar power of foresight to known that he would be on these ships?

No matter the die was cast. The missive from the Immortal Host chapter master was clear, the relic had been found. Grandmaster Delenthos of the Ordos Historicus Veritus lived solely to find the original missives penned by the Emperor and Malcador and this relic was the key.

------------------------------

Suo’luben, Lord of Change, Master of the 4th Mystery, The Burning Madness, and holder of thousands of titles and honors besides, considered his “allies” with measured distaste. His expression would be unreadable, but he had no particular love for either of the other creatures before him.

They had met on the most neutral ground available to them, one of the pleasure barges of Slaanesh. The vessel was a distasteful affair, hung with rich drapes and choked with silken furniture, all the while the walls seeming to be made of soft and gently quivering flesh. On the other side of the room the daemon prince, Ecnelutsep the Unchanging toyed with the walls, his vitreous talons digging into them to leave postulant infections in their wake as the walls shivered and quailed softly at his infectious touch.

“The Father is curious about your arrival here,” Ecnelutsep’s voice was phlegmy and maggots crawled out from his gums as he spoke. “What is the Trickster’s purpose here?”

To ask such a question of a minion of Tzeentch was beyond laughable, even the ineffable mind of Great Nurgle himself had no chance of understanding the machinations of Tzeentch. Sua’luben smiled graciously, bowing slightly at the hip. “We simply sensed the slaughter and arrived to aid in the joy. The walls grow weak here, so surely this is an optimal place for us to be, is there anything else we should know of?”

“Hurm…” Ecnelutsep burped slightly as he considered the Lord of Change carefully. He then turned slowly to the third figure in the conference, who was currently lounging on a nearby divan. Sua’luben had never considered before that there were degrees of lounging, for surely the supine shape in the corner had passed far beyond what any mortal could hope to accomplish in the art of indolent repose. “What of you,” snarled the Daemon Prince of Nurgle, “what purpose does the Dark Prince have here?”

“Purpose?” Nyx’s voice trilled pleasantly, like a dozen dancing silvered bells as she laughed, the pleasing curves of her body reacting in ways that intrigued even Sau’luben. He quickly scowled and hardened his mind against such trickery. “I heard there was going to be fun here, such fun, and…Eldar, of course.” She laughed again even as Sau’luben cursed the capricious stupidity of the creature, he had attempted to make it clear that no hint of their plan should be revealed to the forces of Nurgle. Still, this simply opened up his next eight contingency plans depending on Ecnelutsep’s reaction.

“Eldar you say?” The Daemon Prince grunted and shrugged, “I have seen little of them while I have been here, but perhaps I have been looking in the wrong places. Perhaps it would do me well to see your campaigns for a moment, so that I might have the chance, I understand that they writhe in such delicate pain.”

“They are mine by right,” Nyx hissed softly, golden gleaming eyes suddenly shifting to midnight black as all traces of humor left her face. “They are promised to the Lord of Excess.”

“As you will,” Ecnelutsep shrugged, “but I do think I should like to ally with you in any case.”

“If you wish it, it shall be done, of course,” Sua’luben bowed again, grinning, well, now they were down to three possible contingencies, and he knew which one he favored…

2,500 per side.
Only 1 Warlord a side.
Linebreaker, First Blood, Slay the Warlord, and Kill Points are all in effect.

In addition, an extra objective (Inquisitorial representative, sort of an IC/Relic) will arrive from reserves under the Space Marine’s control. It has to enter joined to a unit that also enters from reserves.

It is worth 4 points to Chaos if they can claim it.
It is worth 2 points to the Imperium if any other result happens.

No good pre-setup army pictures this time I’m afraid, my bad!

The Immortal Host

Librarian Tigerius (Warlord)
Chapter Master on bike w. Thunderhammer and Shield Eternal
1x Termie squad w. various shooty upgrades
1x Inquisitor
1x Grey Knight Terminator Squad
2x Storm Talon Gunships
1x Storm Raven
1x Devestator Squad w. Missiles and H.Bolters
2x Tac Squads in Rhinos w. Melta
2x Tac Squads w. Missile Launcher (one may have been plasma gun, actually – not sure)
1x Legion of the Damned w. Lascannon
1x Sternguard in Rhino w. Combi Melta
Techmarine w. Thunderfire Cannon
Some IA artillery squad…I don’t recall the name, they’re little missile pods. I hated them, they blew up stuff.

Chaos Somewhat Divided
1x Fateweaver (Othrus the Mad, returning for more)
1x Lord of Change (Sua’luben)
1x Winged Daemon Prince of Tzeentch (Arbmunep)
1x Winged Daemon Prince of Nurgle (Ecnelutsep the Unchanging, observing the untrustworthy Tzeentch forces…)
2x 10 Pink Horrors

Waaaaaaaagh! Zog’dakka
Warboss w. Klaw, Squig, and Cybork (Zog’dakka Squatstompa an’ Toofy! Also probably Mr. Grimey)
Big Mek w. KFF (Grocbad “the Rokkit” Burstablack - Da Mad Mek of Mekanikal Masterwerkss)
4x Battlewagons (Deff Rolla, 2x Big Shootas, Open Top)
3x Ork Mob (Shoota Boyz)
1x Nob Mob (assorted Painboy, klaw, big choppa stuff, y’know, the usual )

Zog’dakka watched the Imperial fortress keenly. He had been told that the little dancy girlz had some of their loyalists inside who would take some steps to ensure the way was made clear. He and his ladz had managed to make up a new batch o’ Kill Kroozers and Deathdealas and whatnot, and had set off to lay waste to the capital planet Pingtass Prime, since it was supposed to have the best looting. Sadly it appeared the smelly boyz, the dancy girlz, and the tricksy boyz had got here first.

Also, everyone kept calling the planet Gimat, which was awfully confusing.

“Dose dancy ladz are doin’ it propah,” noted Zog’dakka as the main gate exploded, he could see a few struggling humanz running around in their funny soldier uniforms waving pink flags and looking right silly as the purple beakies shot them to death. “Yeah, dat’s da stuff, now we can get in and smash all da gooey bitz!”

“Yar-har, Cap’n,” announced Mr. Grimey as he saluted, “Grocbad reports that the Battle Wagons are ready to go, and adds ‘dey might blow upsies if’n we don’t release da pressure tooty-quick soon on da boilers!’ so I sort of think it might be time to launch the attack.”

“Did he say…yar-har?”

“There was probably an ‘avast’ Cap’n,” offered Grimey quickly.

“Acceptable. Okay, go get me my big Titan head onna pointy stikk, I wanna look good for dis one!”

“Boss, um…” Mr. Grimey looked around uneasily and offered up a ‘yar-har’ while trying to come up with the right words. The ‘yar-har’ policy being a particular favorite of Zog’dakka’s. “If you recall boss, we sort of gave away the Titan to the smelly boys, and then they lost it, and also, as I recall, when we did put the head on the stikk we had to bring in a crane to get you out from under it on account of it being really heavy and parts of you kinda being squished and needing the Doks to work on them.”

“…dat seems unlikely, I’m pretty big.”

“That you are boss, biggest Ork around.”

“Dat’s right, dat’s why I get ta wear da spiffy Cap’n hat, and don’t you forget it! Now, where are da smelly and tricksy daemon-y things? Dey were supposed ta help us krump da beakies.”

“They’re all behind us, boss,” Mr. Grimey pointed, “they seem scared to take the front, and I sort of think they’re planning to just use us as fodder to soften up the beakies.”

“Yeah…” Zog’dakka considered this for a moment. The other nearby Orks waited with eager glee, certain that the clever and very tactical mind of their boss would sort out this issue. “Well den, dat’s dere mistake, if they back stabbies us we’ll stab dem in da face, and dat hurts more!” Mr. Grimey sadly shook his head while the other orks cheered this brilliant and deeply thought out plan. “Crank up my rokkin’ music!” Zog’dakka grabbed up Mr. Toofy by his chain, the squig, which had been peacefully sleeping, sprang to wakefulness and immediately (as was its wont) tried to eat Mr. Grimey. “Avast and have at ye squabs! Raise da black flag and prepare ta board dem!”

“YAR-HAR, WAAAAAAGH!”


Not my most brilliant setup preview picture (we started late and sort of rushed to get into the game) But you can see the fortress held by the Imperium and the nearby hills.


The Daemons (being not as big and tough as Orks) hide behind the battlewagons.
You can also see the assembled Space Marine forces inside the fortress preparing their defense.


Let da crushin’ commence!


In true daemon fashion, they hide some Horrors in reserve for “cunnin’ planz”


This lone Tactical squad was clearly on a combat patrol when the attack started, now they’re caught outside of the protective walls of the fortress, but take up position on a nearby hill anyway.


Will their firepower be able to help disable the Ork advance by sniping at side armor?


The Imperium setup features a bit of light skirmish/roadblock tools standing in defence of a frighteningly beefy looking gunline.


These two Tac squads are all that stand in guard of the shattered door…will it be enough?

“Looks like dey only ‘ave two squads guarding da door, dat’s not enough!!! WAAAAGH!”
Zog’dakka continues to impress his men by coming up with the cunnin’ “charge da big hole in da wall” strategy.


The battlewagons churn forward, a few big shootas chattering off rounds that inflict minor damage (I think I stripped one hull point and maybe sniped a single Marine from some random squad)


The Imperium response is quick and decisive, the Tactical squads move up their Rhinos to seal the breach and melta blasts flare out at the Ork vehicles. Though the lumbering warmachines are surprisingly durable the one holding the Big Mek is shattered in an explosive blast. Even as the Orks stagger to their feet punishing wave of firepower drops upon them, killing all the Orks save for the Big Mek and the Nob. First blood to the Imperium!


“Dey gotz vehicles on da walls!?!” Zog’dakka hoped out of his lucky blue battlewagon as he shouted to the driver, “whot are you waitin’ for ya git, go ram up the wall and into dem!”
“Yar-har, Cap’n!”
Sadly it’s a pretty lackluster ram, barely scratching the Sternguard Rhino…oddly, the Orks will live to regret this failure.


“Okay ladz,” Zog’dakka waved to his Nobz, “let’s go get some krumpin’ done!” The Nobz ready their weapons, eager for the charge.


The one squad of horrors that arrived scattered a bit beyond optimal range, and are left scrambling around the hills trying to make themselves either useful, or at least scary enough to absorb some shooting.


Speaking of shooting, the daemons were a tad intimidated by the GK Terms and Inquisitor, so the ladz shot a whole lotta dakka into them. That empty space is where the Grey Knights used to be.


Zog’dakka and the ladz decide it’s transport krumpin’ time!


The daemons, meanwhile, had opted to avoid the scrum at the main gate, and decided to see what they could do about shutting down some Imperial shooting.


Multiple assaults are launched, as a Tac Squad is torn apart, Artillery is smashed, and the Tech Marine faces off with Prince Arbmunep.


“In the Emperor’s Name!”
“In the name of a corpse, you die!”
The Prince makes short work of the techmarine.


If the Daemon Prince Ecnelutsep had noticed that he had been left on the exposed Chaos flank facing the bulk of the Marine army he didn’t seem to notice.

He is torn apart by Marine shooting next round, ‘just as planned’


The Orks lack speed and finesse, but are pretty sure numbers and brutal force should see them through the gates anyway.


The Rhinos get stomped, and the remaining Immortal Host Marines fall back from the wrecks as the Orks howl in eager glee.


The daemonic forces have also well destroyed the heart of the firebase, inflicting solid casualties.


I made the random joke that I didn’t think I’d seen any LoD fielded since 3rd edition…oddly, these babies still seem to have their 3rd edition basing Go figure!

In any case, in a flash of fire and flame, the Legion walks the hills.


The battlefield is greeted to a roar of engines as the Immortal Host’s Inquisitorial contact arrives, along with a large amount of air support.


The Storm Talons (don’t judge the counts as, who needs that many different flyers…besides, these models are way cooler looking than the Storm Talon) sweep in low, already picking out targets of opportunity.


“Multiple enemy contacts, Inquisitorial visitor still safe aboard, moving in to provide fire support.”
The Storm Raven lends its prodigious firepower as well.


“Form up, disable the warmachine.” The Sternguard drop out in picture perfect deployment from their Rhino, already targeting weak points on the Battlewagon with their melta weaponry. They will obliterate it in short order.


Meanwhile, in the courtyard, the Immortal Host falls back in order, firing at the advancing forces of Chaos, intent to down some of the dread daemon princes.


Ork firepower finishes off what the Daemons started, as Zog’dakka and his lads join the rush towards the Immortal Host Chief Librarian. “Orks, Orks, Orks!”


A few Nobz are shot apart as they advance, but the Orks are undeterred. The big win here was Zog’dakka denying the witch on Tigerius…probably he just didn’t believe he could lose and that generated the stronger warp response.


The air superiority of the Immortal Host is felt again as the Storm Raven moves in, blasting holes in the nearby Battlewagon.


The Legion of the Damned had shot apart a battlewagon and weathered the actions of the pink horrors, but more of the beasts appear from the warp. If the grim figures in the smoke blackened armor had any concern, it did not show.


Ork shooting is truly devastating, managing to down the Chapter Master as Zog’dakka and the daemon princes move in


“Kneel before Zog…so it’s easier fer Toofy ta go fer da eyes!”
The Orks, Terminators, and Daemon Princes smash together in brutal combat.
Mr. Cutsmore challenges Tigerius and gets a nasty hole in his chest bitz for the trouble, but the Princes and Orks stomp da rest of the Termie lot.


Next round Tigerius stands alone, and his invulnerable saves are…not as hoped.


A picture near the end of battle, the Pink Horrors are about to zap the Storm Talon from the sky, and the Storm Raven has gone hover mode to obliterate the last functional battlewagon.


The end of Turn 4 (we did play Turn 5, but it was done via speedy play and lacked pictures)

At the end of 4 things were very tight. The scores looked roughly as follows;

Immortal Host
First Blood (1 point)
Denying Chaos the objective (2 points)
Assorted dead stuff, battlewagons, princes, Big Mek, et al (8)

Total: 11

Chaos/Orks
Linebreaker (1 point)
Slay the Warlord (1 point)
Assorted dead stuff, Tigerius’ squad, Tac squads, Termies, et al (10)

Total: 12


We then proceeded to a round 5 wherein the Orks managed to immobilize the hovering flyer holding the objective (putting us in a very good position to kill it and claim the objective on a Turn 6)
The Horrors managed a banner day and slew the Legion of the Damned.
The two Greater Daemons flew out and smashed apart a Storm Talon
Zog’dakka and the ladz krumped the last Rhino.
A mob of Orks sallied forth and ate the Sternguard.

Putting us at +4 points and a chance for an additional +6 swing if we managed to wreck an immobilized skimmer with a power klaw next to it)
The Marines were left with one artillery piece, the Devs, a squad of Tacs on a hill, and one Storm talon coming out of ongoing reserves to do something to kill enough stuff to prevent us from doing that, *and* to make up 5 kill points in addition.

The Imperial player tipped his king.

Chaos/Orks win!

There was some debate about the balance of the mission, oddly with me arguing that it was imbalanced in the Imperium’s favor (we won through a mix of good tactics and some nice luck as the Imperial player’s dice seemed to hate anything he had with a 2+ save). Still, I think us actually securing the objective was near close to impossible when it was sitting on an empty zooming flyer being worth 2 points just for our lack of ability to claim it.

I actually do like aspects of the game, as it kind of combines the flavor of kill points and objectives into one fun brawly mix though, but probably some extra thought or fine tuning is needed to polish it up. I sort of blame us doing the design process for this game over the Christmas season, so I suspect none of us had our heads as focused as they could have been (I certainly didn’t)

Imperium MVP
The Devestators.

I don’t care what John might say, but it was the Devs. They inflicted punishing damage (killing a Daemon Prince, wounding a Greater Daemon, and killing almost half an Ork squad) basically every single turn. Just a withering amount of firepower, and they were positioned on a tower in such a way that, basically, we couldn’t even touch them. A lot of the Imperial’s gains were because of this squad.

Imperium WTF
I think I’ll go with the Grey Knights…? I mean, they were there, versus a lot of daemons, and Marcus accurately pegged where the daemons would go and had his guys positioned perfectly to assault in and inflict carnage. And then…they got dakka’ed and died. I can’t imagine that was what was hoped for from them, and it wasn’t even that big of a drawing of fire from the Orks either.

Chaos MVP
The Orks…

But, seriously, probably Sua’luben, the Lord of Change. That guy absorbed up a *silly* amount of firepower being directed at him. I can’t even properly describe how much shooting was lobbed at him over the course of the game, and with only one wound on him he was still helping to kill Termies and flying out to smash flyers and threaten Tac squads. Really, as no surprise, the whole flying cadre was a great terror tool, but he stood out in his performance.

Chaos WTF
As is not uncommon, the side that wins a pretty runaway victory usually ends up with me having trouble pegging the weak link.

I suppose I would say Zog’dakka’s lucky blue battle wagon though. It had a simple job, to mow down a Rhino and then, hopefully, mulch some Sternguard. It was a brilliant ram and would have done us a lot of good – but all that stood in front of me was a Rhino with 2 Hull points remaining and me ramming it with an AV 14 tank with a deff rolla…there is really no reason that should have gone poorly for me. Instead all I did was stun it and then sit there looking at it stupidly as the LoD or something popped me in my side armor and ended Lucky Blue in a flash.

Fething hells!

“Withdraw all forces, the firebase is lost.” The Immortal Host fell back in order, bringing their wounded with them as they fired defensive bursts at the pursuing Orks and circling daemons.

“The Inquisitorial agent…” the wounded librarian tried to open his eyes but couldn’t, the blood spattered across his face and the ringing agonies of fell Tzeentchian sorcery kept trying to pull him back into a full healing torpor.

“We lost him, lord, I saw the Orks’ tearing open the transport.

“Did he die?”

“Unknown.”

“The Locust will be most displeased,” sighed the Librarian, referencing Inquisitor Delenthos. That agent had been part of his retinue, and the only thing more damning than letting him die to a Chaos ambush, would be if the foul Tzeentch daemons had captured the man alive and could extract his secrets. “We must make haste, pull back to the final redoubts, we may be losing this planet, but we have not lost the war, not until one side or the other claims the key.”

“I do not understand, but my orders will be obeyed,” announced the Immortal Host sergeant carrying him. The Librarian nodded, appreciating the distinction and that the man wasn’t questioning him. It was only then that he finally allowed himself to slip into restful repose, to heal, and to rise to fight again…

===========================

“Alas, poor Ecnelutsep, I knew him Nyx, a fellow of infinite merriment and rot…” Sua’luben cackled to himself as he held up the head of the destroyed daemon prince. The forces of Papa Nurgle would have no spy in their midst, and his report back in the Chaotic realms would be one of Tzeentchian cooperation and simple defeat at the hands of the Space Marines, a well-played coup.

“Did I ever talk to that foul thing?” Nyx was draped in thin diaphanous silks as her handmaidens danced around her, collecting up fallen and wounded Imperial warriors to amuse her. As was usual, Nyx seemed only half aware of the plan, though Sua’luben was fairly certain that was all a ploy on her part, and even if it wasn’t it was wisest to treat it as such just to protect himself.

“Oi! You dere, wit da squishy bitz!” The Ork Warboss who Ecnelutsep had negotiated into helping them with the attack came trundling down the hill towards them, as was usual a wide array of various hangers on and bully boyz swirled along in their boss’s wake. “Just so you know, dis ‘ere Pingtass place is all Zog’dakka’s, we gotz a lot of blue paint, y’hear!”

“This isn’t Pingtass, it is Gimat.” Sua’luben sighed inwardly, already wondering if he should just kill the Ork. The wretched beasts were so unpredictable that they sometimes even seemed beyond Tzeentch’s ability to predict. It did certainly appear that they were about to attack in a crude form of betrayal though, he prepared himself for the battle.

“He’s right about that boss,” offered a small creature by the Warboss’s foot. “I am pretty sure we are on Gimat, not Pingtass.”

“WHOT!” The Ork looked down at the smaller creature and frowned. “Whot’s Gimat like?”

“Much smaller than Pingtass, and already kinda looted by the daemons. I don’t think it’s likely to be very profitable.”

“Dis is just depressing.” The Warboss turned, eyes narrowed as he pointed at Sua’luben. “You planning to take your sneaky boyz or da squishy dancy girlz ta Pingtass?”

“…no?”

“Right den, Pingtass is mine!” The Warboss turned back to his men. “Right you sorry lot, load all da blue paint back up! We’ve got some rokkin’ and movin’ ta do!”

“Yar-har!” The ragged cheers erupted across the ork lines as most of them started orgainizing for a return to their ships, others broke off to go raiding across the planet anyway, and some just started fighting other orks or daemons simply for being there.

“Wretched vermin,” noted Nyx softly as she watched them trundle off, “too incapable of hate for even Khorne to corrupt, and too simple minded to be corrupted by excess.”

“I hate Mhork and Gork,” offered Sua’luben in agreement, neither of the Greater Daemons caring to dwell much on the thought of those horrific warp entities though, they returned to their plotting. Gimat looked to be securely in their hands, and between their crusade, and the efforts of Nurgle and the Orks the Imperium would be distracted and confused, allowing Sua’luben to claim the real prize of the campaign for Tzeentch, and Tzeentch alone.