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With Power fists crackling with savage energy, the Word Bearers charge the Daemons. The Reaper Autocannon reaps a heavy toll on the advancing Warp horde, the Fist Acolyte leaps aboard the Disc, fighting hand to hand with his adversary.

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Syrath pulls out a longs flaming sword and hacks madly at the Word Bearer making only mad crackles of hysterical laughter and mad rants that if listened to correctly would revel the mystery of the Universe but the Daemons fight on, blue and pick flames consuming the Terminators while others are hacked apart by Hell Blades. Syrath hisses as the Dreadnought appears and turns to the Word Bearer
"I propose an Alliance, all I ask in return is Chaos and change!"

"And in return? The Dark Gods are fickle, I require payment. But yes, we shall, for Chaos!".
The force of Word Bearers and Daemons cease their battle, turning to their new adversary.

"Power beyond your imagination, Tzeentch and Khorne will grant it to you but now we must destroy this shrine to a corpse!"

Syrath screams a Daemonic command as the Disc fires a bolt of energy that burns and melts the hull of the Dreadnought within seconds while Tzeentchien Horrors belch Warp flames that burn and destroy its weaponry. Bloodletters charge and begin leaping onto the Dreadnought and begin plunging their flaming blades into its hull.

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Syrath leaps upon the Disc which fires multiple bolts of warp energy at the Dreadnought which dissolve its hull as they slam into the Dreadnought, soon the Dreadnought is unable to move its legs due to the rapid attacks of the Tzeentch and Khorne Daemons.

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(Really they just gun down the Daemons who are some of the most powerful beings in the Warp, well two can play at that game.)

Syrath fires a bolt which simply dissolves the Space Marines from inside while more Daemons tare into reality as the Word Bearers summon them

With cruel abandon, the remaining Terminators slaughter their way through the marines, the heads of the Word Bearers defeated opponents are placed upon a ritual trophy spike, ready for the ritual to summon more allies to the fray.

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"Excellent fest on their weak souls! Summon the hordes of Chaos to the battles of Real Space!"

"With the thousand whispers of Slannesh we call to his Daemons!"

"With the seven Plagues of Nurgle we call his Daemons"

"With the nine Spells of Tzeentch we call his Daemons"

"And with the mighty axe of Khorne we cut open the universe!"

Daemons pour into reality as Sorcerers summon them with ancient and forbidden chants.

With his forces decimated, the First Acolyte, with only a few of his guard remaining, retreats to prepare the ritual, taking the gangrenous corpse of the Dreadnought he slew with him as an offering to The Pantheon.

"Yes come forth! Slaughter the servants of the Corpse and take their heads and souls! Butcher them and slaughter the fools! For Chaos!"

Daemonic beasts begin to attack any Imperials of enemy forces within the area, they smell the fear of their foes as they viciously tare their allies apart.

The hill side shaked as ork artillary fired upon the battlefield, dozans of kannons and lobbas hurled shellsinto the melee, blowing ontop of marine and daemon alike

(OOC) Got to go iproxtaco you can command my forces and use my powers to make yourself a Daemon Prince if you want.

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((Which enemy? Orks are on the hill, stormtroopers and that CRASSUS thing are fighting stormboyz by the ruins, and word bearers and daemons are in the middle where the dreadnought is (or was)))

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So everyones dead? except for the nids

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Gorclamp sped his buggies through the valley, kicking up the ground behind them in a cloud dust. They circled around the tyranid horde, staying far out of reach of their claws. the shootas cutting the swarms down.

Taking cover from the Ork artillery in some nearby ruins, the First Acolyte consecrates the ground around him, placing the sacrificial spike on the center. He unhooks the book at his waist, ignoring the nearby sounds of battle as loyalist marines and his Daemonic allies clash. His last few Terminator Guard take off their helmets and kneel, respectfully in front of their master. The First Acolyte chants from the Book of Lorgar, each syllable must be perfect to avoid the gift of spawnhood. The Terminators cut their foreheads with the symbol of Chaos, offering their blood as payment to the Dark Gods. The air around them grows dark, the ground grows wet with blood rising from beneath, maniacal laughter can be heard, absent of a source. The new Dark Apostle strikes the ground with his fist, an ugly rent in the fabric of reality tears open, revealing the land behind, a backlay of swirling ruddy purple and red over a scorched surface festooned with blood stained spires and cobbled streets running with the gore of the slaves who paved them. From this portal steps a gigantic figure, red of skin, with huge folded leathery wings struggling to fit through this gate. A horned head, like that of a snarling dog, deep eyes glowing like the embers of a forgotten fire, red stained teeth the size of a human hand. Hooves burn the ground where it steps, a low reverberation sounds as the Bloodthirster steps from his chaotic realm. It surveys the scene, towering over the mortal who had summoned him, steam blowing from it's nostrils with its displeasure at the paltry gathering come to greet it. Bracing itself, the Daemon unfolds its mighty wings, and launches itself into the air, trailing a bloody mist and cracking the ground with its takeoff. It spots the carnage not so far away, his lesser servants battling fiercely with the hated servants of the Anathema. With a howl that stripped the sanity of mere humans, the Bloodthirster wings its way towards the battle it so craves.

Smashing into the side of the planet's crust with apocalyptic force, the Ork Suparokk skidded to a halt after rolling over scores of daemons, chunks of steel and stone trailing off as it pulverized the landscape. It rocked and smoked for several moments, the only sound emitting from the great irregular globe was an ominous ticking sound, an eerie rhythmic pulse that reached it's climax in a tremendous explosion as the Orky demolitions ripped the top off of the improvised transport. Truly, it was the pinnacle of Ork ingenuity. Originally, they had tried strapping Orks to the outside of the massive space rocks, but the boyz just burned up in the atmosphere. Then, some big mekk got the idea to put the boyz on the inside of the rokks, then things really got rolling. Out of the smoking rent came thousands of greenskins, each armed to the teeth with the most shootiest, loudest, and most obnoxious weaponry they could get their hands on. Several massive squiggoths tramped onto the soil, 'uge dakkagunz firing into the mass of enemies below. Dis wuz gonna be good.

The Bloodthirster lands, Orkz flying in every direction, a great wave of invisible force knocking them back for tens of meters. His new foe is unprepared, mighty double-headed axes appear wreathed in bale-flame in the Daemons fists. With roars that make even an Ork stall with apprehension, the beast is a whirling dervish amongst a green sea. Choppas and shootas bounce off its unholy hide, as axes come down again and again, tearing Orkz in half with every blow. A Sguiggoth on the rampage chooses this red enemy as it's new target.


Got to go, its late, don't kill off my Bloodthirster, just leave him and the Squigg alone.

A Grey Knight Terminator squad teleports onto the battlefield the Bloodthirster in their sights. They charge the Blodthirster who swings his giant axe decapitating two Grey Knights where they stand. One of the remanning Terminators swings under the stroke and bloodies the daemon’s underarm, the Blood thirster screams out in pain knocking the terminator sprawling to the ground. The remaining two Terminators slash out at the Bloodthirster’s exposed stomach spilling blood everywhere. A Grey knight climbs up the daemon’s side and while standing on his neck decapitates the angry daemon banishing him back to the warp. The Three surviving Grey knights scan the battlefield for their new targets.

Syrath flies by on a flaming Disc of Tzeentch and decapitates two of the Grey knights with his blade while his mass armies of Daemons begin to enter combat the Orks with a sinister rage, they hack and slice the Green Skins apart with their blades.

The now returned Bloodthirster kills the Grey Knights.

The 8 remaining storm troopers, and a few surviving veterans, climb back in to the CRASSUS ARMOURED ASSAULT TRANSPORT, which then revs its engine and backs away from the ruins.
Several of the storm boyz are crushed under the mighty tracks of the CRASSUS ARMOURED ASSAULT TRANSPORT.

They speed away into the hills, to meet with their reinforcements.