Hi all. This is a fluffy batrep of a 1000 pt game of 40k played between two fellow gamers (written with their permission). I actually wrote this quite a long time ago and posted it on a different forum (B&C). However, I decided to post it here, just because I'm an attention-starved egomaniac.
I hope to do more fluffy reps like this in the future. In the meantime, enjoy!
Their lists (from memory):
Imperial Guard (1000 pts)
Grey Knight Grand Master- Nemesis force weapon, Terminator armour, storm bolter
-4 Grey Knight Terminators- 1 psycannon
Senior Officer- laspistol, close combat weapon
-Command Section- 4 Guardsmen w. lascannon
Heavy Weapons Team- 3 lascannons, Sharpshooters
Platoon
-Command Squad- Lieutenant w. laspistol & close combat weapon, 4 Guardsmen w. plasma gun
-Squad 1- heavy bolter
-Squad 2- heavy bolter
Armoured Fist Squad- lascannon
-Chimera- hull heavy bolter
Leman Russ- sponson heavy bolters
Leman Russ Demolisher- hull lascannon, sponson heavy bolters
13th Company (1000 pts)
Wolf Lord- Terminator armour, frost blade, thunder hammer, Mark of the Wulfen
Rune Priest- frost blade, plasma pistol, Mark of the Wulfen, Belt of Russ
10 Grey Slayers- plasma pistol, meltagun, power fist
10 Grey Slayers- plasma pistol, meltagun, power fist
10 Wulfen
10 Fenrisian Wolves
Corporal Higgins wiped the sweat from his brow he surveyed the hellish landscape that lay before him and his company. Streams of running magma crisscrossed the rough, flinty ground, bathing the area in an oppressive orange glow. Ramshackle bridges made of scavenged metal bulkheads and sheets had been placed over the bubbling streams, some of them large and thick enough to support the weight of a battle tank. In the far distance, a tall black mountain -- Mount Karmath, the heretic stronghold -- belched noxious clouds of black smoke from its peak, filling the air with its thick fumes. Corporal Higgens was thankful that the smoke wasn't so thick that they would need respirator masks.
Higgins turned back to his men arrayed before him, the forward elements of the 3rd Company of the 23rd Chaeronian Rifles, their black and grey flak armour reflecting the fiery rivers around them. A minimum-sized platoon, an Armoured Fist Squad, and two supporting battle tanks -- all in all, a decent force with which to spearhead the attack. The 23rd Chaeronian Rifles had been one of the first regiments that had arrived to quell the Sylak Heresy, and Higgins had been on few battlefields like Sylak: most of the major forge-cities were situated deep in the volcanic mountains, and rivers of lava like this one crisscrossed much of the continent. It was amazing that people even lived here in the first place.
The vox caster carried by a member of Higgins' command section suddenly crackled to life. "Higgins, what is your status?" came the stern voice of Inquisitor Rothengard. For some reason, the Inquisitor had taken particular interest in Higgins' sector, and had been relaying him orders via comm link from the front line headquarters a few miles back.
The Corporal picked up the vox caster. "We're just a few miles away from the next heretic stronghold," he said. "We had an unconfirmed enemy sighting from Squad 3 on patrol, and lost contact with them a few minutes later."
"Acknowledged. I suggest you prepare for battle, Corporal."
Higgins nearly blinked in surprise. "Inquisitor?"
"Do not question my orders, Corporal," Rothengard said over the comms. "You are about to come under assault by those who would thwart our purpose on Sylak."
Higgins nodded, still unsure how Rothengard knew they were about to be attacked. "Acknowledged, sir!" he said.
"One more thing, Higgins," Rothengard said. "You will require aid against this specific enemy. I am sending you reinforcements."
Higgins was about to ask what kind of reinforcements he was sending, when he suddenly felt an odd twinge of static in the air. Before he knew what was going on, there was a brilliant flash of light and a strange shimmering of the air behind Lieutenant Danvers' command section, accompanied by an overwhelming stench of ozone and a palpable wave of nausea. Then, in an instant, it subsided. Nearly the entire patrol force jumped in alarm when five massive figures appeared behind them, clad in gleaming suits of massive, baroque silver armour. These strangers had storm bolters attached to their steel gauntlets, and knightly-looking helms covering their faces. Their held onto large, finely-crafted swords and glaives that crackled with electricity. The Guardsmen, thinking they might be under attack, held their fire when they saw the symbols of the Imperial aquila decorating the armour of these giants. The steel giant at the centre of the group reached up and slowly removed his helmet, revealing a stern, battle-scarred face with a metal aquila fixed onto his forehead. As the man turned his uncompromising gaze towards the staring Guardsmen, Higgins realized he was looking at one of the war-gods of the Adeptus Astartes.
"This is Grand Master Darius of the Grey Knights and his retinue," came Inquisitor Rothengard's voice. "I am placing him in command of this patrol, as I am sure he has a far better understanding of what you'll be up against."
"Yes . . . . sir . . . " Higgins mumbled, before placing the vox receiver back in its slot. As the awed Corporal watched, Grand Master Darius turned his stern gaze to him. Face to face with one of the fabled Grey Knights, Higgins felt his spine melt into jelly.
"Have your men form up, Corporal," Darius said, his voice deep and firm. "I sense witchcraft in the air."
"Sir! The smoke!" a Guardsman suddenly shouted behind him. Higgins whirled around -- a thick wave of smoke was descending across the landscape towards them. Higgins had been fighting on Sylak long enough to know that this was no natural occurrence.
"All units, take up defensive positions and prepare to engage the enemy!" he shouted as the wave of volcanic smog swept over them.
13TH COMPANY TURN 1
Jarl Gatekeeper sniffed the sulphur-laced air as he stood at the fore of the warband, peering into the distance. The Guardsmen were there, he was sure of it. Under normal circumstances, he and his brethren would not have had to resort to this: they might even have aided the Imperial troops against the minions of the Great Enemy. But Jarl knew the aims of the one the Guardsmen served, and knew that, by meddling in secrets that should have been left buried, he could potentially unleash forces beyond his comprehension. For this reason, his minions had to be stopped, be they loyal troops or otherwise.
The Rune Priest knelt against the rocky ground and closed his eyes, placing a gauntleted hand against the ground. He reached out with his mind and connected with the earth-spirits of this place, touching out to the thick clouds of volcanic smog that blew across the landscape, pulling them, manipulating them, and warping them until they felt like an extension of his own body. Jarl channelled the smog forwards, past his silent brethren, until a cloud of blackness covered the field. Allowing himself a faint smile, Jarl stood up and nodded to Lord Volgrund Fellhammer, who stood further to the right in his ancient suit of Terminator armour, his faithful cyber-wolf at his heels. Volgrund turned to face his assembled warriors and raised his crackling thunder hammer, the signal for them to advance.
As one, the Lost Wolves advanced under the cover of the smoke screen, sprinting quickly across the rocky ground and barely making a sound despite their heavy armour. Jarl ran across a ramshackle metal bridge that overlooked a magma stream, followed by Herla and his Grey Slayers. Further to the right, his lost brethren, the cursed Wulfen, sprinted forwards as well, eager to get to grips with their prey, while further behind them strode Lord Volgrund in his heavy Terminator armour. To the left ran Lars' Grey Slayers, while behind them ran a pack of the warband's faithful cyber-wolves. They were already covering much ground under their cover -- hopefully, they would make it to the Imperial Guard lines before they could loose an effective volley. Jarl hoped that this would be the case -- the terrain of this area was too densely-packed for him to safely call upon the powers of the Gate, and they would have to put faith in their scavenged power armour.
The Space Wolves were nearly midway across the field when the cloud began to dissipate. Jarl had known that it wouldn't last long, but it had at least allowed them to cover more ground quickly. Up ahead, through the fading mists of the smoke, he could see the Guardsmen arrayed for battle: on the far left flank, on a hill behind a magma stream, sat two infantry squads, a team of three lascannon crews, and what appeared to be the commanding officer's own squad, which sat just in front of the hulking form of a Leman Russ Demolisher. Directly ahead of the Space Wolves, yet another command section was hunkered down amidst a hill full of rubble, with another Leman Russ tank to their right and a Chimera further down to their left. Jarl's eyes narrowed when he saw five large, silver-armoured figures standing directly behind the command group. His heart sank when he realized that Grey Knights were fighting alongside the Guardsmen. He cursed: those fools were yet more pawns of that Inquisitor. If they carried out his orders, then Russ knew what horrors they would inadvertently unleash upon Sylak.
"Sons of Russ, attack!" Lord Volgrund's voice shouted over the comms. With a collective howl, the Space Wolves charged forwards, revving up chainswords, while the stunned Guardsmen hurriedly fiddled with their lasguns. Baring his fangs, Jarl charged forwards along with Herla's Grey Slayers towards the command group, with Lars' own Grey Slayers following close to their right. Without needing orders, the veteran warriors raised their assorted bolt pistols, plasma pistols and meltaguns and opened fire on the platoon command section as they ran. The Guardsmen ducked as a hail of fire rained down on them. Jarl gritted his fangs when he saw his own shot go awry; the smoke and the impetus of the charge seemed to have fouled the Grey Slayers' aim, as the majority of fire from both squads either ricocheted off of rubble went too high. Nonetheless, one Guardsman still had his upper body vaporized by a well-aimed shot from a plasma pistol, while another could only give a mangled scream before he was torn in half by yet another plasma bolt. Under the shouts of their Lieutenant, however, they held their ground.
To the left, the cyber-wolves raced across yet another ramshackle bridge towards the leftmost hill, racing past the Leman Russ Demolisher towards the headquarters squad. The senior officer and his Guardsmen could only loose a half-hearted volley of lasfire before the howling wolves smashed into them. Screams echoed through the air as the Guardsmen were brutally torn apart by the jaws of the hungry wolves -- Jarl saw the one Guardsman blow a wolf's brains out with a point-blank laspistol shot before being mobbed and savaged by the rest of the pack. The senior officer made a brave final stand, hacking down another wolf with his chainsword before a third tackled him, clamped its jaws around his neck and tore his throat out in a welter of blood. Rather than stay to feast on the bodies of the headquarters squad, however, the well-trained wolves inched backwards, doing well to stay out of close range of the lasguns of the other two squads.
Jarl allowed himself a feral grin . . .a grin that disappeared when he saw the enemy battle-tanks swivel their turrets around to face them. He uttered a quick prayer for Russ to preserve them as he raced onwards . . .
IMPERIAL GUARD TURN 1
"Bloody hell!" Lieutenant Danvers gasped as he looked down at the two charred bodies of his fellow Guardsmen, then up at the strange Space Marines that had seemingly appeared from out of nowhere, and then at the spot where the messy remains of Corporal Higgins and his command squad were splattered across the ground. He didn't know if these attackers were Traitor Marines -- they seemed to have armour similar to those of loyal chapters, but some sections of their armour reminded him of that of the followers of Chaos. Either way, it was fairly obvious they were hostile.
"Open fire!" Grand Master Darius said firmly from behind him, still sounding calm despite these early casualties.
Danvers followed Darius' advice and seized the vox-caster. "OPEN FIRE, YOU IDIOTS!" he screamed.
On the right flank, Squads One and Two raised their weapons and let loose on the wolves that had just killed Corporal Higgins. A fusillade of lasgun and heavy bolter fire tore through the air, and five wolves fell to the combined firepower of both squads. Surprisingly enough, however, rather than break and flee, they bounded forwards in a charge towards Squad Two.
"Advance!" Darius shouted behind him. Startled, Danvers couldn't help but obey, edging forwards with his squad to the edge of the rubble-pile to get a better shot at the advancing Space Wolves. The chilling howls of the attackers were momentarily drowned out by the massive boom of the Leman Russ' battle cannon-- an explosion erupted in the midst of the howling Space Marines, and Danvers saw three of the hairy freak-beasts and two members of the squad next to them ripped to bloody shreds by the explosion. There was another loud boom as the Demolisher followed suit, it's siege-buster shell exploding in the midst of the squad on the right and shredding three of them while hurling many of their comrades to the ground.
The enemy squad barely had time to pick themselves up before the lascannon team opened fire on them. One accurate beam of super-heated energy vaporized the upper body of one marine, while another fell when an accurate lasgun shot from a loader pierced one of the eye-slits of his helmet and sent him sprawling to the ground.
Danvers trained his lasgun on the other squad on the left and screamed for his squad to open fire. Lasgun bolts rained down on the Space Marines, but, like actual raindrops, merely pattered off their armour. The lieutenant's frown turned to a grin when a bolt from Trooper Kale's plasma gun punch through a Space Marine's abdomen, sending him crumpling to the ground. Multilaser fire shrieked through the air as, further to the right, the Armoured Fist squad's Chimera joined in, but its lasbolts merely bounced forcefully from powered armour.
Then, without warning, a loud, coughing rumble erupted from behind Danvers -- the startled lieutenant whirled around to see Grand Master Darius and his Terminators firing their storm bolters at the squad on the left. Bolter rounds tore through the squad, the explosive shells leaving deep craters in the armour of the enemy Space Marines. One fell as a bolter round exploded in his chest. One of the Grey Knights strode of the forefront, lifted a strange, cylindrical gun, and opened fire. Heavy calibre shells from the strange weapon pulverized the head of another enemy marine and ripped another in half at the torso. Only two Marines were left alive from that squad, standing amidst a pile of their own dead. Danvers could have sworn he heard them howl with fury in his direction.
"Prepare yourself, Lieutenant," he heard Darius say. "The 13th Company will be in assault range soon."
13TH COMPANY TURN 2
Jarl snarled with rage as he picked himself up from where the explosion of a battle cannon shell had hurled him, his armour dented and riddled with shrapnel. The warhost was already suffering grievous losses from enemy firepower -- Herla's pack had lost quite a few of its members already, and Lars' pack had been reduced to only two warriors. The time would come to mourn the fallen later, however: right now, they had a battle to win.
"With me!" Jarl shouted as he charged towards the platoon command section, Herla's pack following close behind with a collective battle-howl. To their left, the last two members of Lars' pack sprinted across another ramshackle bridge towards the rubble-heap that the command section and the Grey Knights occupied, while further down, the cyber-wolves lunged past the Leman Russ Demolisher towards the foremost of the Imperial Guard infantry squads. Further to the right, the slavering Wulfen gave a chilling howl as they sprinted past the rubble-hill towards the Chimera parked behind it. Further behind, Jarl heard Lord Volgrund urging his warriors onwards in the name of Russ.
Ignoring the lasfire that battered against them, the last two members of Herla's pack charged forwards and took aim at the Grey Knights behind the command section. The first of them opened fire with his plasma pistol, but his aim was off, and the shot merely hit a rusted girder in front of one of the Terminators. Jarl cursed: the Grey Knights were known for that psychic field of theirs which befuddled the aim of even the most accurate warriors. His fanged grin returned, however, when the other Grey Slayer opened fire with his meltagun, the super-heated energy beam burning a perfect hole through the abdomen of one of the Terminators. A second later, the upper body of the Grey Knight completely disintegrated under the blast, his severed arm clattering to the ground along with the glittering force-halberd it held, while the power-armoured legs remained standing. The disciplined Grey Knights, however, showed no concern over this loss, and remained as resolute as ever.
With savage howls, the last three cyber-wolves flung themselves upon the waiting infantry squad. The foremost Guardsman instantly had his throat torn out by a wolf's slavering jaws, but his comrades were better prepared, and counter-attacked with a bayonet charge. The wolves were swarmed by stabbing Guardsman, and soon all three of the fierce beasts went down, speared to death by their foes. Jarl let out an embittered growl: at least the noble beasts had died fighting to the last.
Over to the right, the unnatural speed of the Wulfen's charge allowed them to slam into the side of the Chimera. As Jarl watched, the Wulfen tore savagely at the side of the tank, punching through the side armour and slowly but surely peeling it away with their unnatural strength. Within moments, the Chimera had been flipped over by the raging Wulfen. Jarl caught site of a bunch of battered Guardsman crawling out of a rear hatch from their ruined vehicle, carrying with them two dead comrades who had obviously died from having their necks broken from the impact. The Rune Priest allowed himself a fanged grin: they would be joining their comrades in the afterlife once the Wulfen got to them.
The Rune Priest turned his attention back to the platoon command squad. He felt the rage of the Wulfen building up inside of him -- he could contain it no longer. With a wordless roar, he unslung his frost axe and led Herla's pack forwards in a charge. In a few seconds, he had bounded over the rubble pile and was face-to-face with the lieutenant and his startled Guardsmen. The soldiers didn't even have time to utter a prayer before Jarl was upon them like a wolf amidst a flock of sheep, hacking left and right with his frost blade. Blood sprayed everywhere as he cut the first Guardsmen cleanly in two, redirected his swing to chop another from crown to loin, and tore a third apart in a backswing. The terrified lieutenant only had time to shakily raise his pistol at the blood-splattered warrior before Jarl decapitated him in a spray of blood.
Loosing the howl of the beast trapped within, Jarl and his brethren charged onwards towards the stern, silver-armoured warriors waiting further behind.
IMPERIAL GUARD TURN 2
Sergeant Roscoe of Squad Two wiped the wolf-blood from his bayonet as he turned to assess the situation. The Chimera had been overturned, and Lieutenant Danvers and his squad were being massacred. In short, everything was going to hell really fast. What they needed right now was a decisive counter-attack.
"With me!" he shouted, motioning for his squad to follow him as he ran across the rocky ground towards the rubble-hill. Further behind, Squad One took up supporting fire positions, while to the left, the Leman Russ Demolisher rumbled further to the right before pivoting to train its sponson guns on the armoured Space Wolf leader and his accompanying wolf.
The lascannon team trained their guns on the two Space Marines near the base of the hill and opened fire. The Marines were aware of this, however, and dived for cover at the last minute. The incandescent beams of light arced past them, missing the dodging marines by mere metres. A second later, Squad One opened up with a volley of lasgun and heavy bolter fire. Shots riddled the area around the two remaining Space Marines, with lasbolts bouncing off their thick armour. The accuracy of the Chaeronian guardsmen paid off, however, as one lasbolt pierced punched through a Marines helmet, felling him instantly, while more rounds punched through weakened areas of the other Marine's chestplate, sending him to join his comrade in the afterlife.
Further down, the Demolisher let loose with it's heavy bolter sponsons at the Space Marine leader. Heavy-calibre shells ripped apart the ground around the heavily-armoured figure, with one errant shot tearing his accompanying wolf in half in a spray of blood. Those few shots that struck the Wolf Lord, however, merely bounced off of his thick Terminator armour. The Leman Russ trained its battle cannon on the lone Marine and fired with a mighty blast. The shell whistled across the field -- a second later, an explosion erupted behind the Wolf Lord, sending a huge plume of earth and magma blasting upwards and flinging the Space Marine onto his front. The Wolf Lord, however, merely stood back up again, his armour dented slightly but still intact.
"Ready arms, brothers!" Grand Master Darius shouted as the Grey Slayers, along with their Rune Priest, bounded up the rubble hill towards them. As one, the Grey Knights adopted a ready combat stance, their glimmering force-weapons raised. As Darius watched, Squad Two came charging up behind the Space Wolves, bayonets fixed. The vice had closed around the Grey Slayers.
With a collective howl, the Space Wolves smashed into the Grey Knights -- and, a second later, found the Chaeronians charging into them from behind. A fierce broke out: chainswords clashed against force weapons, and bayonets smashed against power armour.
A Guardsman fell, his head removed by a whirring chainsword. A second later, his killer found a lasgun pressed against his head, a point-blank shot blasting a hole cleanly into his brain. Another Grey Slayer snapped a Guardsman's neck with a savage headbutt, while further down, four Guardsman swarmed another Space Wolf, eventually dragging him down and stabbing him repeatedly with their bayonets until he finally stopped moving. The Grey Knights fought like gods incarnate, hacking left and right, chainswords bouncing uselessly off of their baroque armour while their glittering force weapons cleaved through armour and flesh alike. Four more Space Wolves fell in quick succession, no match for the superior mettle of the Grey Knights.
Darius found himself face-to-face with the white-bearded Rune Priest of the 13th Company, his crackling axe and his grey armour splattered with the blood of the Guardsmen. The warrior's eyes brimmed with animalistic fury -- there could be no reasoning with him now, as he was lost in his berserker rage.
Darius' force sword sprang up as the Rune Priest lunged at him, parrying his blow in a backlash of power. The two warriors clashed with at the very top of the hill, trading blows at a speed that would have left a lesser man dazzled. Time and time again, sword and axe clashed, the two warriors seemingly equal in skill and strength.
Ducking under the backswing of Darius' force sword, the Rune Priest lunged forwards, his axe tearing across the Grey Knight's ornate armour and biting deep into midsection. Darius cursed and swung out, only to watch as an arcane energy field sprang up around his opponent to repel the blow. Howling with fury, the Space Wolf wrenched his axe free and took the offensive, raining down blow after blow against the wounded Grand Master's defences. Darius parried desperately, arcane sparks flying from each connection of their weapons. Slowly but surely, however, he was driven back by the furious assault of the Rune Priest.
Then, moving with speed that surprised his opponent, Darius darted to the side, his blade slashing out and tearing the frost axe to the side. Before the Rune Priest could react, Darius lunged forwards, driving his blade through his opponent's chest. The Rune Priest's eyes widened, and he began to cough blood. Gritting his teeth, Darius channelled his will through the blade, batting aside the Rune Priest's own psychic defences with ease. The Rune Priest could only let out an agonized scream before the back of his head exploded in a splatter of gore and grey matter.
Darius lowered his blade, letting the dead Rune Priest slide to the ground, and turned his gaze back to the battle. The last Space Wolf fell, impaled by one of his brethren before he could bring his power fist to bear. The Space Wolf attack had been blunted -- for now. His gaze shifted to the Wulfen that were about to leap upon the Armoured Fist squad: the battle was far from over.
13TH COMPANY TURN 3
Volgrund howled with rage as he saw Jarl and the remaining Grey Slayers fall in battle atop the rubble-hill, slain by the blind, foolish Grey Knights and their Imperial Guard allies. Nearly all of his warband was dead -- good, loyal Sons of Russ who had fought alongside him in countless battles throughout the Eye. He glanced back at the shredded body of his loyal wolf, Felgar, and clenched his hammer tightly: if he were to die today, then he would reap a bloody toll among his foes beforehand.
Raising his frost-axe in one hand and his crackling hammer in another, Volgrund gave a vengeful howl charged onward towards the Imperial Guard lines as fast as his Terminator armour could carry him, his twin weapons crackling with energy.
Lot all hope was lost: the Wulfen were still alive, and had gotten behind the Imperial Guard lines. As Volgrund watched, the savage beast-men clambered over the wreckage of the Chimera and, moving with impossible speed, hurled themselves at the Armoured Fist Squad. The Wolf Lord smiled grimly as terrified screams sounded out in the background, before the infantry squad disappeared in a collage of splattering blood and flying limbs as the Wulfen did their grisly handiwork. Eventually, the screams stopped, and the blood-splattered Wulfen stood over what used to be an Imperial Guard squad. But their bloodlust had not yet been sated: with crazed howls, the Lost Ones leapt up onto the rubble-hill, charging straight towards the Grey Knights.
IMPERIAL GUARD TURN 3
"Advance!" shouted Sergeant Laski of Squad One. Following his lead, the Chaeronians hurriedly raced across the nearby metal bridge -- right towards the charging Wolf Lord. Normally, such a move would have been seen as suicidal, but they had plenty of supporting fire to throw at him.
The sergeant crouched down and screamed the order to fire. Rapid-firing lasguns loosed beams of bright energy at the oncoming Space Marine -- beams which merely bounced harmlessly off of the charging juggernaut's armour. Further by the rubble-hill, Roscoe and Squad Two turned their guns on the Wolf Lord as well -- las-bolts and heavy bolter rounds rained down on the Space Wolf, but the mighty warrior merely shrugged them off as he continued his charge. Laski frowned: maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all . . ..
A second later, however, the lascannon gunner of the Demolisher gained a target lock on the Wolf Lord and fired. Instantly, the howling Space Wolf was struck by a high-powered beam of energy. There was a brilliant flash, forcing Laski to shield his eyes, along with a searing backwash of heat. Slowly, Laski uncovered his eyes. There, where there was once a Wolf Lord, there was now one a fused patch of ground and a molten, misshapen lump of metal. Laski grinned despite himself: that big guy wasn't so tough after all.
A chilling howl caused Laski to spin around, There, on the rubble-hill, Grand Master Darius and his retinue had come under attack by a mob of hairy . . . things. As Laski watched, the foremost Grey Knight Terminator had his throat ripped out by a pair of sharp claws, his blessed Terminator armour made a mockery of by the sheer strength of his assailant. As he fell, the other Terminators made to defend themselves -- one of his brethren swung out with his glittering halberd, only to have his weapon-arm caught and ripped from his socket in a spray of blood. The Wulfen leapt upon the wounded Terminator and savaged him, while another was dragged down by the sheer number of hairy monstrosities.
Before long, Grand Master Darius stood alone, surrounded by the howling Wulfen and the corpses of his brethren. With a roar of rage, his slashed one across the front with his sword, injuring but not killing it, before redirecting his swing to slice a clawed hand off of another. A Wulfen leapt upon him, nearly dragging him to the ground: before Darius could react, another leapt upon him, then another, his Terminator armour barely able to hold up their weight. His roaring oath was lost when one of the monsters clamped its jaws tightly on his face. With a muffled cry of pain the Grand Master fell, more and more Wulfen piling on top of him and frenziedly ripping at him, until his glowing force sword finally fell from his lifeless hand.
Laski could only stare in mute shock at the horrific scene he had just witnessed. The Grey Knights -- the greatest champions of humanity -- had just been slaughtered like mere children. He continued to stare in shocked horror, even as the screaming Wulfen leapt down from the hill towards Squad Two . . .
TURN 4
Moving in a blur of movement, the Wulfen charged Squad Two. The poor Guardsmen barely had time to scream before the Wulfen were upon them, ripping them apart with their bare claws as though they were made of wet tissue paper. Blood and entrails splattered liberally all over the area -- within mere seconds, the Guardsmen were dead before any of them could so much as pull a trigger in self-defence. Laski nearly threw up when he saw one of the Wulfen gnawing at Roscoe's liver.
Instead, Laski swallowed back the bile in his throat and screamed for his squad to fire. Lasbolts cut through the air, slamming against the Wulfen's scavenged armour in a shower of sparks. This did little more than catch the blood-soaked beasts' attention: slowly, they looked up from their most recent meal, and fixed their hungry eyes on Laski's squad.
Screaming, half out of battle-fury and half out of terror, Laski raised his own lasgun, took quick aim and fired. His marksman ship was spot-on, with the lasbolt burning a perfect hole through the foremost Wulfen's eye socket. The beast teetered for a moment, then collapsed with a thud. A dull cough erupted as Jameson set up his heavy bolter and laid down a curtain of high-calibre shots at the beasts: another Wulfen went down as a heavy bolter round ripped apart its head like a ripe melon.
With a snarl, the Wulfen came charge towards Laski's squad. The sergeant was about to scream for his squad to fall back when the lascannon team next to the Leman Russ opened fire: two of the nearest Wulfen were instantly vaporized by white-hot beams of energy. The Leman Russ and the Demolisher trained their heavy weapons sponsons on the Wulfen as well: heavy bolter rounds ripped apart the ground around the charging Wulfen, with two more of the beasts falling to repeated hits. The last Wulfen just kept coming, running straight towards Laski, claws outstretched . . .
There was a blinding flash of light, accompanied by an immense backwash of heat that forced Laski back. The strong stench of ozone filled the sergeant's nostrils, and he had to fight the urge to retch and vomit. Falling into a sitting position, Laski slowly opened his eyes. There, where there used to be a Wulfen, there was now only a blackened patch of ground. Laski rubbed his sunburned face slightly: the lascannon gunner of the Demolisher wasn't idly boasting when he said he was the best of the best.
Wearily, Laski stood up and surveyed the battlefield around him. The bodies of the attackers littered the field everywhere, though they hadn't gone down without a fight: Laski's gaze went to the rubble-hill where Space Marine and Guardsman alike lay dead in a great mound. Their force was now drastically under-strength.
Motioning for his men to follow, Laski sprinted across the nearby junk-bridge towards the great mess that used to be Corporal Higgins and his command squad. The sergeant once again had to fight the urge to vomit as he surveyed the torn, half-eaten carcasses of the command section. There: lying in the middle of a pool of blood was the vox-caster -- along with the hand of the vox-caster.
Kneeling down, Laski pried the hand off and switched the caster on. "This is Sergeant Laski of 3rd Company reporting," he said wearily. "We have engaged and eliminated hostiles -- they appear to have been Traitor Marines of some sort. We've taken severe losses: Corporal Higgins and Lieutenant Danvers are both dead, along with the Grand Master and his retinue."
"Acknowledged, Sergeant," came Inquisitor Rothengard's reply. "Proceed onwards with your mission."
Laski was incredulous. "Sir, with all due respect, we've taken sixty percent casualties," he said. "Request permission to await reinforcements before proceeding."
"Denied, Sergeant." Rothengard sounded a little more impatient now. "Proceed onwards. That is a direct order."
The sergeant gazed at the dead littering the battlefield. Even he knew better than to cross an Inquisitor. "Yes sir," he mumbled, before hanging up the vox unit.
RESULT: IMPERIAL GUARD VICTORY!
Thoughts: What a bloodbath! From the get-go, it seemed like an uphill struggle for the 13th Co, especially since the terrain was too dense for the Rune Priest to use the Gate. That said, they still did very well, all things considered. MVP definitely goes to the Wulfen, who moved through two Guard squads, a Chimera, and a Grey Knight Grandmaster and his retinue (the IG player's armour saves were horrible)
