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Introduction:

This was a themed battle played by myself a friend, the pictures from my camera didn’t take (No memory card in the camera) but he’s going to send me what he has.


The Setting

M41.999

The choked and polluted hive-world Danizen VI in Segementum Ultima has been infected with a plague of undeath that has quickly swept across the planet. Within days, the majority of the primary population centers were reduced to ruins, streets and buildings choked with the living dead.

A single distress call manages to escape the warp spawned horrors of the system, received by the closest Imperial Vessel, the Black Templars Strike Cruiser ‘Heretic’s Torment’. Marshall Karth, not one to deny an Imperial call for help, quickly orders his helmsman to change course for the beleaguered world.

Even as the ‘Heretic’s Torment’ makes way for Danizen VI, the overwhelmed defense forces are faced with the stench of the heretic within their own ranks, as most of their own writhe in the grip of the plague lord Nurgle and pledge themselves to his immortal service….

When the Templars arrive in system they are denied valuable time as a derelict looking vessel, that is in actuality a plague hulk moves to intercept them. After a pitched battle, the Templars are successful in destroying the diseased ship but the time they waste, costs the doomed defenders on the world even more lives.

The spaceport of Emperor’s Landing is the last remaining bastion of the Imperium upon the world and the Templars pledge to defend it in order to buy time for the evacuation to proceed…….


The Forces:

Imperium (4000 Points):
2000 Points of Black Templars (4 Land Raiders (Crusader/Achilles/Normal/Pre-Heresy), 2 Predators, 2 Vindicators, Crusaders, 2 Dreadnoughts, Drop Pods/Caestus Assault Ram)
1750 Points of Space Marines (Devastators/Sternguard/Vanguard/Tactical Marines)
250 Points of Imperial Guard (Normal Guardsman)

Zombies (6000 points):
400+ Plague Zombies
Rest Imperial Guardsmen including Tanks & Plague Ogryns


Scenario Rules:

Table Size: 6x4 Feet

The Defenders have a single gate building to defend, there are 6” gaps to either side of the building; while the building itself consists of 3 separate parts that can be destroyed; allowing the attackers to move through.

The attackers objective is to reach an objective marker behind the gatehouse on the table edge. If an enemy unit is able to remain on the marker for 1 turn; the game ends as the enemy units break through into the spaceport. Alternatively, if any enemy units are on the marker or within 3” of it when the game ends in turn 6; the attackers win.

The attackers have also been allowed to hold troops in reserve and come in from any table edge as long as they are not within 12" of the Gatehouse (yes, this meant, some of the zombies swarmed in 13" away from the gate building). This was to represent that this was the last bastion of humanity remaining and the enemy was attacking from all sides.


Dramatis Personae: (Updated Round by Round in Order of Appearance)

Marshall Karth, Black Templars, Marshall of the Crusade of Eternal Retribution

Commissar Helena Roth, attached to 5th Danizen Guard Regiment ‘Worrick’s Warlords’

Guardsman Reiker, Conscript, 5th Danizen Guard Regiment

Sergeant Abraham, Devastator Sergeant, Deathwatch

Brother Markus, Black Templars Crusader

'Old One' Thoricles, Black Templars Dreadnought

Brother Dor, Dreadnought

Brother Mikhail, Commander of Land Raider Achilles ‘Dorn’s Hand’

Brother Tartarus, Black Templars Crusader


Prologue, Round 0 (Deployment):

Commissar Helena Roth paced the walls, insuring her men didn’t break in the face of the overwhelming odds that they faced. Upon the air hung the stench of death as it blew towards her, a sign of the approaching wave of death that they would soon be forced to contend with.

She had already commended her soul to the Immortal Emperor upon the Golden Throne, but in his name she would make sure that her and her men faced down the approaching horde with the discipline of veteran Imperial Guardsmen; not conscripts who would break and run. She had faith in her men, just as she had faith the Emperor might still protect those hurrying to evacuate in the spaceport, the faith in her men was placed for a sole reason; those were their families among the survivors.

The wailing shrieks and screams from all directions of the city was quickly drowned out by the roar of massive engines, causing the Commissar to look up upon this new doom she thought had come to face them. Instead, she was greeted with the sight of the approaching Black Templar Thunderhawk Gunships and Transporters as they set down carrying their precious cargo; everything Marshall Karth could muster from the remains of his crusade.

A sigh of relief escaped Helena’s lips, a prayer aloud given to the Emperor as his angels of death descended to their rescue. Even among the handful of surviving guardsman, a resounding cheer was sounded. Hope, had been restored, for the time being.

Commissar Helena Roth and the guardsmen she lead, were spared the one sight that space marines deploying had not been; the unending swarm of undeath approaching…..

Actions:

4 Land Raiders, The Predators, Vindicators and 2 Devastator Squads were deployed to the front of the gatehouse. The Devastators manned the walls, while the tanks covered the gaps in the defense and kept an open lane of fire directed towards the roads.

The Zombie horde was deployed, taking up almost half of the table; along with their traitor guard legions. Roughly half the force is left in reserve. The zombies form the vanguard of their force, while Leman Russes and Guard squads ripe with plague advance behind.


Turn 1: Death has come.

It is the calm before the storm, the silence that heralds the impending doom that awaits the defenders. Guardsman Reiker couldn’t help it, he had wet himself in terror, a fresh recruit to the PDF Legions he had barely finished his basic training and been assigned to his unit when the plague had broken out. He still remembered the screams as they tore into his squads Chimera Armored Transport, the scent of blood, that acrid copper still tainting his nostrils.

He had survived because he ran, it was something he would never admit, he had pushed the cupola gunner out of the way and climbed out of the top, even as his Commissar threatened to kill him for desertion. As he spared a glance towards the diminutive woman that ‘passed’ as the Commissariat for this rag-tag unit, his only thoughts went to matters of procreation. As if sensing his thoughts, the Commissar sent an icy stare in Reikers direction, a wicked smile gracing her aristocratic features before she flicked the safety off of her pistol in a warning.

A gauntleted hand was placed on Reiker’s shoulder, followed with words issued forth with a booming voice, “Focus yourself Guardsman, your enemies do not share your distractions.” Sergeant Abraham, a veteran of two centuries including a tenure in the Deathwatch, a man of dark skin and a loud voice manned the walls with his Devastators side by side with the guardsman.

Reiker, feeling both awe and embarrassment and having been spoken to by one of the Emperor’s Angels, nodding his head in reverence, replying through choked breaths, “Yes Sir.” The battle for him had not yet begun, a single reprieve he had been granted. For others, death had already come.


Inside the cold steel shell of the Drop Pod, Brother Markus affixed his oath of the moment to his right pauldron and prepared for the incoming shock as the transport vehicle, if it could even be called that slammed into the ruins before the horde. His squad had simple orders, to stem the horde as much as possible as they fell back towards the space port. It sounded simple, until the doors of his drop pod blasted open and him and his squad rushed out to find themselves only feet from their enemy. They seemed to be without number, a vast horde made up of things once recognizable as human and other gibbering creations of the warp intermingled. He spoke a single prayer to the Emperor aloud before his squad opened fire into the mass of flesh that would in mere seconds consume them.


To the rear of the advancing horde, Colonel Cankrous watched from the cupola of his tank as Nurgle’s hordes consumed all before them, immortality, it had been worth the price has body had paid. The festering boils and pustules oozed things he could not even identify, but he was a plague bringer, one of his dark lords chosen. He was invincible, so he thought until a curious sight was beheld by him, a trio of streaking missiles only meters from his formation slamming into the ground; only these missiles did not exploded and their hatches blew, allowing their deadly cargo to disgorge….

A mechanical voice cut through the chaos, vox speakers amplifying the monotone words, “I AM FURY! I AM RETRIBUTION! FOR THE EMPEROR!” The first of the Lucius-pattern drop pods sending the venerable ancient that was the dreadnought known as Thoricles forth ahead of his comrades, another dreadnought and a squad of crusaders from his chapter. His assault cannon fire filled the air, the Colonel’s command tank ripped apart in a salvo of fire as the massive caliber rounds ignited the fuel tanks and cost the lives of most of the crew. Somehow, the plague bringer himself had survived.

The second dreadnought in the spearhead, a recently interred brother known as Dor fired his melta into the closest Leman Russ before charging forward with his full weight behind the attack; the already immobilized vehicle before ripped in two by the Dreadnought and denying the enemy valuable firepower.


Despite the victories to the rear of the formation, the horde of plagued zombies advanced, over-running Brother Markus and his squad; only the constant firing of their drop pods deathwind launchers marking where ten of the Emperor’s finest had once stood…

Even the Space Marines that manned the walls, could only feel a sense of despair at what was approaching them.


Turn 2: A Hero Falls

Viewing the battle that had begun in the distance through a pair of magnoculars procured from a guardsman, even Commissar Roth could not help but sigh. Plumes of smoke were erupting from behind the numberless horde of zombies, but she could not make sight of any space marines amidst it all; only the still standing drop pod that had once carried Brother Markus and his squad. Like the Guardsmen she was fresh to battle, having only graduated from the Schola Progenum a year before; like many, she did not know Space Marines were capable of dying.

Within the Land Raider Achilles ‘Dorn’s Hand’, Brother Mikhail allowed himself a brief moment to smile as he finished the correct incantations to appease the machine spirit of this great and wondrous tank; a vehicle that had once served the Imperial Fists Legion in ages long past. Climbing up and opening the hatch he watched the shells that would be fired through his auto-senses, giving the order he waited for the four re-assuring shudders of recoil the tank would take along with the beautiful sound of long range destruction erupting forth, “Taste the Emperor’s wrath filth…” His words more for the satisfaction of himself and his crew.

Mikhail was able to count at least twenty of the advancing creatures fly into the air and register as impacted by the shells. Despite the bombardment, the majority of the creatures affected got up, bereft of appendages; even those that had lost their legs continued to drag themselves forward. In his century of crusading, he had never seen anything like it, “Don’t stop firing!” His orders bellowed out to his crew, the expression beneath his helmet one of horrified disbelief.


The formations sole Assault Ram, the ‘Divine Fury’ performed a low orbital drop, homing in on the locator beacons of Thoricles drop pod, to provide a constant barrage of micro-warheads against a group of traitor heavy weapon teams that had been taking cover in a series of ruins, with dozens of kills to the assault crew, they could not be faulted in having been unable to destroy a single heavy weapons team.

The Traitor Guardsman coughed horribly into his gas mask, inhaling copious amounts of plague with each breath, his voice raspy and his resolve unwavering even as his fellow heavy weapons teams were blown apart by the enemy assault ship, “They would deefy the master, yes. They would, death from above, but we won’t fall for that…”

Signaling his team, the pair of Lascannon crews took aim at the approaching Land Raider Crusader and fired a pair of blasts, both slicing into the Black Templar tank and destroying it utterly in an explosion that could be seen for miles when the tank went critical. He could only imagine the expressions of doom upon the faces of the marines within as the survivors staggered out, only to find themselves face to face with those blessed by Nurgle, hungry for flesh.


Venerable Thoricles ushered his battle brothers forward in an orgy of destruction against the enemy armor to the rear of the zombie horde, which at this point had been entirely ineffective in causing any casualties. The crusaders and himself engaging the plague bringer, Colonel Cankrous and his retinue in hand to hand combat. It seemed to be no contest of skill for the space marines and their ancient ally as they crushed the Colonel’s retinue and ultimately ended his life or so they thought….

Spewing forth a vile flood of warp energy that threatened all in the locale, several of the Crusaders were struck down immediately as the acid like plague matter ate through their armor and infected their flesh. With only the anarchic style of chaos, the greater daemon began to pull himself forth from the hole almost comically, his bulk oozing out of the rift like a burst pustule of disease.

With a howl of fury, the crusader and the Venerable Thoricles charged forth into combat, all that awaited them was ruin as the Daemon howled for their flesh. Thoricles, ancient and powerful, a sight of inspiration for his allies charged forth, his mechanical voice calling out, “GLORY TO THE EMPEROR”. Even as his fist struck the Daemon, he found it sucked in by the bulk and thrown off balance before he was ripped into two like tissue paper. The Crusaders who accompanied Thoricles pumped the Daemon with bolter-fire, managing to do little more than agitate it; as much as they wished to avenge their brother even they knew when a fight was beyond them.

Brother Tartarus quickly signaled the Assault Ram for extraction, their mission complete even if at great loss. While Brother Dor had not been forgotten, the Dreadnought had requested to purge his way through the enemy with melta and flamer.


Commissar Roth stood side by side with Sergeant Abraham, about to demand the Space Marine provide her with answers as to how the battle was proceeding when all eyes on the wall went to the west. Despite what approached them from the north, a vast horde of zombies and massive plagued constructs that may have once been a regiment of ogryns came almost as if out of nowhere.

Roth reached a hand up to her breast to touch her Rosarius before whispering, “Emperor help us.” The booming voice of Sergeant Abraham offering re-assurance, even as one of the Predator Battle Tanks was destroyed by the oncoming horde, “He shall girl, he shall.”


Turn 3: Of Things Dead and Gone

Even though his comrades had continued to advance back in the direction of the starport and utilizing what transport was available; Brother Dor had elected to remain behind. His adamantine armor was nigh-impervious and he was confident both in his own martial prowess and the Emperor to guide him through the hordes.

The Dreadnoughts, vox crackled to life, static from the warp interference interjecting even though the Marshall’s words were clear, his voice both bold and pure at the same time cutting through as the light of the astronimicon does the warp, “Space Marines! Hold the line, in the name of the Emperor! No retreat! No Surrender! ”

Inspired by his Marshall, Dor surged forward catching a traitor unit huddling behind a set of ruins unaware. His memories flooded back to him, he was no longer interred within the form of a Dreadnought, he was fighting side by side with his Marshall Karth; a newly inducted member of his Sword Brethren.

The traitors and heretics were surging across their position with a fury that should not have been possible for such frail mortal men, Brother Dor fought side by side with his Marshall vanquishing all who stood before them. From his auto-senses, the heavy flamer of his close combat arm fired, even as he imagined himself firing his bolt pistol. He felt the acrid taste in his mouth, the blood of their enemies filling the air in a sweet cloying stench as bolter fire tore them apart.

Then they were upon them, hundreds, more than even the Black Templars could hope to face at this point, his memories flooding back to him as the Dreadnought charged the guardsman; but the former space marine within was charging to the rescue of his Marshall. His booming mechanical voice called out loudly, “MARSHALL BEHIND YOU!” It was too late though, he only had one option left to him if he was to save his beloved Lord and Commander.

The traitor unit, had no idea how to respond to this mighty machine of war that came bearing down upon them as if lost in some battle crazed nightmare. They looked around for the ‘Marshall’ unsure of who or what he was, not considering the possibility that the armored war machine before them was reliving a past battle.

They had little time to wonder as Dor ripped them to shreds of bone and gore, little left indentifiable as human as he fought towards his Marshall. Karth did not hear him though, how did the Marshall not hear him! He screamed a mighty battle call, the enemies around him pausing as if confused. Even as the deadly power fist from the Chaos Space Marine Lord leading those self-same traitors moved to smash his Marshall’s head; he dove in the way.

He would endure. He was Brother Dor, he was the Emperor’s Champion. Then his senses returned to him, the battlefield, the last before his interment was replaced by the present day. The enemies he had so casually slaughtered were given no pause as he moved through the ruins, he would fight by his Marshall’s side once more….


Commissar Helena Roth could not help but find her heart stop in her chest as the Black Templars Marshall descended the Thunderhawk Gunship and climbed the battlements to survey the troops. Clad in a suit of ancient mark three plate, he brought back images she had only seen in pict-graphs, those of the warriors of the Great Crusade. A noble lord of the Space Marine Legions followed by his retinue, one of his sword brethren bearing his helm.

His countenance was both noble and terrible to behold at once, with features as if etched from stone, beautiful but deadly, the fire of his eyes burning with a conviction and hatred not known to mortal men. As the Commissar strode forward with reserved steps to greet this god among men, she was simply walked past as the Marshall moved forward to address his men from the top of the wall.

In that moment, she felt insignificant, but how could she not in the presence of such a great and noble warrior. Then, with all the skill of an Iterator, he spoke, ready to drive his men into a battle-frenzy even above the sounds of the battlefield.


Marshall Karth could not help but feel disdain as the Commissar approached him, who was this woman with the audacity to approach him? One of the right hands of High Marshall Helbrecht and leader of a Crusade. After he walked past the petite woman he moved up the wall, patting the marines who manned the walls on their shoulder plates. He inhaled the air, his enhanced physiology filtering out any potential toxins, yet it still nearly caused him to gag.

Resting forward against the battlement, he could see the horde was not far off, it was a glorious combat to be fought, one that would truly test him and his men even after a constant century of crusading. They had never been defeated, not once and he had no intentions of falling in battle on this day or any other. He longed for an immortal existence purging the witch, the heretic and the xenos.

“Brothers! We have fought side by side for a century, we have spilled blood and grieved brothers as one! Our fraternity is unbreakable, our faith unshakeable and our will to fight, eternal!” The Templars around him began to cheer, even as his words were transmitted to all ground forces in the vicinity and the strike cruiser above, “We face an enemy of unending number, those they slay adding to their dire host, but we shall end that number, for we, are, the BLACK TEMPLARS!”

As he moved to continue his speech, the unthinkable happened the horrors of the warp had somehow spawned behind their lines, the sickening gurgling sound of a portal opening from the freshly-deceased corpse of a guardsman spewing forth terrors spawned by Nurgle himself.

The Marshall finished his speech quickly as he began to fire his combi-bolter into what approached from behind the gates now, “Space Marines! Hold the line, in the name of the Emperor! No retreat! No Surrender! ”


Even in a galaxy full of darkness and war, sometimes, there is a flickering ray of hope. Brother Markus and his fellow Crusaders had been over-run but through the Emperor’s grace they had prevailed and continued to fight despite their losses. Their personal battle had spilled off into a side street, amidst crumbling ruins as they fought their enemies.

They came in all shapes and sizes, some wore clothing identifying them as civilians or guardsmen, some were naked and others still looked like they had been dead for centuries. Their rotting flesh, that unmistakable scent, the plague zombies of Nurgle. Firing bolt pistol and swinging chainsword, they hacked through their enemies that only the ferocity a Black Templar could muster.

Markus could not help but feel an irony at this very situation, he could see the walls of the spaceport, he could hear the unmistakable sound of bolter fire but they were surrounded too badly and ammunition would only last so long. He gritted his teeth, using his bare hands to crush the skull of one zombie, even as he decapitated another with his chainsword.

For all the good it did him, he heard the Marshall’s speech and it’s sudden interruption, yes, even their great Lord was trapped in his own battles. Markus knew this would be his last battle, of the twelve that had landed in their drop pod, only seven now remained and that number, quickly reduced to five as two more of his brothers were claimed.

He thought they were doomed anyways, until he heard the booming voice of Brother Dor calling out to the Marshall. Perhaps, his men and him stood a chance after all.


Within the cramped confines of the Caestus Assault Ram, Brother Tartarus watched the tactical readouts and scanned the battlefield for one target in particular. The gigantic Daemon of Nurgle, where had it gone? This information troubled him greatly, even amidst the rampaging hordes, they should have been able to spot the enormous and putrefied bulk.

Even as the Caestus moved at breakneck speeds across the battlefield to redeploy him and his squad, his worst fears were brought to life. The Greater Daemon that had slain Thoricles was upon them, at the head of the horde of zombies.

Want to hear more...

Appended to post #1.

Would love to see your friend's pics.

DEAR. GOD.

You must give us more, this is epic!

Appended to post #1.

Lawdy lawdy. You bess be writin mo' ya hear?

subbed indeed :L

this is awesome

Love when Battle reports are done up like a story.

Hey Guys,


Wish my camera had the memory card in it, as the table we played on was composed mostly of ruins and that from one of the old GW Bunker (Oakville, Ontario, Canada) tables and with all of the units; made for a very epic appearance!

I appreciate that those who have posted enjoy the story, that's why I write so that others can read.

In between other things I am working on, I will attempt to get Turn 3 & 4 posted today and also try to procure any pictures my mate has.


Cheers and enjoy the rest of the tale. (As a note, most of the named characters are regular characters in my army and some did meet a final end in M41.999 during this battle.


Will

Most impressive.

Shiny...

Sorry had an RL issue today, check back sometime Tuesday if interested in seeing more!

Agreed, I would love to see some pictures.
Loving the story so far!

This has been appended to the top and will in the future, include pictures of each miniature. Including some personal history. Also an update on pics, he has some and this weekend or next we're meeting to swap them and whatever pics he doesn't have; we will likely recreate the key scenes of the battle so there will be some good pivotal moments of the story captured on film.

Dramatis Personae: (Updated Round by Round in Order of Appearance)

Marshall Karth, Black Templars, Marshall of the Crusade of Eternal Retribution

Commissar Helena Roth, attached to 5th Danizen Guard Regiment ‘Worrick’s Warlords’

Guardsman Reiker, Conscript, 5th Danizen Guard Regiment

Sergeant Abraham, Devastator Sergeant, Deathwatch

Brother Markus, Black Templars Crusader

'Old One' Thoricles, Black Templars Dreadnought

Brother Dor, Dreadnought

Brother Mikhail, Commander of Land Raider Achilles ‘Dorn’s Hand’

Brother Tartarus, Black Templars Crusader

we need moreeeeeeeeeee
this stuff is great

love it this is sweet

subbed

ETA on Round 3: 1 hour.

Thanks for all the views.

IdentifyZero wrote:ETA on Round 3: 1 hour.

Thanks for all the views.

YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! : DDDDDDD

Cant wait!!

Round 3:

Even though his comrades had continued to advance back in the direction of the starport and utilizing what transport was available; Brother Dor had elected to remain behind. His adamantine armor was nigh-impervious and he was confident both in his own martial prowess and the Emperor to guide him through the hordes.

The Dreadnoughts, vox crackled to life, static from the warp interference interjecting even though the Marshall’s words were clear, his voice both bold and pure at the same time cutting through as the light of the astronimicon does the warp, “Space Marines! Hold the line, in the name of the Emperor! No retreat! No Surrender! ”

Inspired by his Marshall, Dor surged forward catching a traitor unit huddling behind a set of ruins unaware. His memories flooded back to him, he was no longer interred within the form of a Dreadnought, he was fighting side by side with his Marshall Karth; a newly inducted member of his Sword Brethren.

The traitors and heretics were surging across their position with a fury that should not have been possible for such frail mortal men, Brother Dor fought side by side with his Marshall vanquishing all who stood before them. From his auto-senses, the heavy flamer of his close combat arm fired, even as he imagined himself firing his bolt pistol. He felt the acrid taste in his mouth, the blood of their enemies filling the air in a sweet cloying stench as bolter fire tore them apart.

Then they were upon them, hundreds, more than even the Black Templars could hope to face at this point, his memories flooding back to him as the Dreadnought charged the guardsman; but the former space marine within was charging to the rescue of his Marshall. His booming mechanical voice called out loudly, “MARSHALL BEHIND YOU!” It was too late though, he only had one option left to him if he was to save his beloved Lord and Commander.

The traitor unit, had no idea how to respond to this mighty machine of war that came bearing down upon them as if lost in some battle crazed nightmare. They looked around for the ‘Marshall’ unsure of who or what he was, not considering the possibility that the armored war machine before them was reliving a past battle.

They had little time to wonder as Dor ripped them to shreds of bone and gore, little left indentifiable as human as he fought towards his Marshall. Karth did not hear him though, how did the Marshall not hear him! He screamed a mighty battle call, the enemies around him pausing as if confused. Even as the deadly power fist from the Chaos Space Marine Lord leading those self-same traitors moved to smash his Marshall’s head; he dove in the way.

He would endure. He was Brother Dor, he was the Emperor’s Champion. Then his senses returned to him, the battlefield, the last before his interment was replaced by the present day. The enemies he had so casually slaughtered were given no pause as he moved through the ruins, he would fight by his Marshall’s side once more….


Commissar Helena Roth could not help but find her heart stop in her chest as the Black Templars Marshall descended the Thunderhawk Gunship and climbed the battlements to survey the troops. Clad in a suit of ancient mark three plate, he brought back images she had only seen in pict-graphs, those of the warriors of the Great Crusade. A noble lord of the Space Marine Legions followed by his retinue, one of his sword brethren bearing his helm.

His countenance was both noble and terrible to behold at once, with features as if etched from stone, beautiful but deadly, the fire of his eyes burning with a conviction and hatred not known to mortal men. As the Commissar strode forward with reserved steps to greet this god among men, she was simply walked past as the Marshall moved forward to address his men from the top of the wall.

In that moment, she felt insignificant, but how could she not in the presence of such a great and noble warrior. Then, with all the skill of an Iterator, he spoke, ready to drive his men into a battle-frenzy even above the sounds of the battlefield.


Marshall Karth could not help but feel disdain as the Commissar approached him, who was this woman with the audacity to approach him? One of the right hands of High Marshall Helbrecht and leader of a Crusade. After he walked past the petite woman he moved up the wall, patting the marines who manned the walls on their shoulder plates. He inhaled the air, his enhanced physiology filtering out any potential toxins, yet it still nearly caused him to gag.

Resting forward against the battlement, he could see the horde was not far off, it was a glorious combat to be fought, one that would truly test him and his men even after a constant century of crusading. They had never been defeated, not once and he had no intentions of falling in battle on this day or any other. He longed for an immortal existence purging the witch, the heretic and the xenos.

“Brothers! We have fought side by side for a century, we have spilled blood and grieved brothers as one! Our fraternity is unbreakable, our faith unshakeable and our will to fight, eternal!” The Templars around him began to cheer, even as his words were transmitted to all ground forces in the vicinity and the strike cruiser above, “We face an enemy of unending number, those they slay adding to their dire host, but we shall end that number, for we, are, the BLACK TEMPLARS!”

As he moved to continue his speech, the unthinkable happened the horrors of the warp had somehow spawned behind their lines, the sickening gurgling sound of a portal opening from the freshly-deceased corpse of a guardsman spewing forth terrors spawned by Nurgle himself.

The Marshall finished his speech quickly as he began to fire his combi-bolter into what approached from behind the gates now, “Space Marines! Hold the line, in the name of the Emperor! No retreat! No Surrender! ”


Even in a galaxy full of darkness and war, sometimes, there is a flickering ray of hope. Brother Markus and his fellow Crusaders had been over-run but through the Emperor’s grace they had prevailed and continued to fight despite their losses. Their personal battle had spilled off into a side street, amidst crumbling ruins as they fought their enemies.

They came in all shapes and sizes, some wore clothing identifying them as civilians or guardsmen, some were naked and others still looked like they had been dead for centuries. Their rotting flesh, that unmistakable scent, the plague zombies of Nurgle. Firing bolt pistol and swinging chainsword, they hacked through their enemies that only the ferocity a Black Templar could muster.

Markus could not help but feel an irony at this very situation, he could see the walls of the spaceport, he could hear the unmistakable sound of bolter fire but they were surrounded too badly and ammunition would only last so long. He gritted his teeth, using his bare hands to crush the skull of one zombie, even as he decapitated another with his chainsword.

For all the good it did him, he heard the Marshall’s speech and it’s sudden interruption, yes, even their great Lord was trapped in his own battles. Markus knew this would be his last battle, of the twelve that had landed in their drop pod, only seven now remained and that number, quickly reduced to five as two more of his brothers were claimed.

He thought they were doomed anyways, until he heard the booming voice of Brother Dor calling out to the Marshall. Perhaps, his men and him stood a chance after all.

Within the cramped confines of the Caestus Assault Ram, Brother Tartarus watched the tactical readouts and scanned the battlefield for one target in particular. The gigantic Daemon of Nurgle, where had it gone. This information troubled him greatly, even amidst the rampaging hordes, they should have been able to spot the enormous and putrefied bulk.

Even as the Caestus moved at breakneck speeds across the battlefield to redeploy him and his squad, his worst fears were brought to life. The Greater Daemon that had slain Thoricles was upon them, at the head of the horde of zombies.

I love it!
Worth the wait.

I cut down a little bit of it, here is the rest of round 3. Some of it was amalgamated into round 4, so I wouldn't be up all night.

Enjoy, top post also updated with Round 3.




Even in a galaxy full of darkness and war, sometimes, there is a flickering ray of hope. Brother Markus and his fellow Crusaders had been over-run but through the Emperor’s grace they had prevailed and continued to fight despite their losses. Their personal battle had spilled off into a side street, amidst crumbling ruins as they fought their enemies.

They came in all shapes and sizes, some wore clothing identifying them as civilians or guardsmen, some were naked and others still looked like they had been dead for centuries. Their rotting flesh, that unmistakable scent, the plague zombies of Nurgle. Firing bolt pistol and swinging chainsword, they hacked through their enemies that only the ferocity a Black Templar could muster.

Markus could not help but feel an irony at this very situation, he could see the walls of the spaceport, he could hear the unmistakable sound of bolter fire but they were surrounded too badly and ammunition would only last so long. He gritted his teeth, using his bare hands to crush the skull of one zombie, even as he decapitated another with his chainsword.

For all the good it did him, he heard the Marshall’s speech and it’s sudden interruption, yes, even their great Lord was trapped in his own battles. Markus knew this would be his last battle, of the twelve that had landed in their drop pod, only seven now remained and that number, quickly reduced to five as two more of his brothers were claimed.

He thought they were doomed anyways, until he heard the booming voice of Brother Dor calling out to the Marshall. Perhaps, his men and him stood a chance after all.


Within the cramped confines of the Caestus Assault Ram, Brother Tartarus watched the tactical readouts and scanned the battlefield for one target in particular. The gigantic Daemon of Nurgle, where had it gone. This information troubled him greatly, even amidst the rampaging hordes, they should have been able to spot the enormous and putrefied bulk.

Even as the Caestus moved at breakneck speeds across the battlefield to redeploy him and his squad, his worst fears were brought to life. The Greater Daemon that had slain Thoricles was upon them, at the head of the horde of zombies.

Very nicely written, looking forward to more and pics, che che

YOU CANNOT STOP WRITING THIS OMG THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!

It's ok, I suppose.

Good job, keep up the good work, i peronally wished more people did things like this. Can't wait for the pics.

This was one of the better Battle reports I have read in a while. I cannot wait to see the pics.

My apologies to the people who were following this, I got busy with some other RL work & projects and since I never got the pics off my mate I had forgotten all about this. We're going to try for another one of these, but Grey Knights instead of marines and with as many pictures as possible.

I will likely post a conclusion/summary just to wrap it up.