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At my local gaming group we are running a 40k campaign focused on conquering the world of Eidophin in the Cithia system. http://www.scourgeofsobekk.info/index.html http://z13.invisionfree.com/ScourgeofSobekk/index.php?act=idx

I am playing as Word Bearers in the campaign and I am writing up the background of my armis amd the results of the battles as the campaign progresses, and I thought it would be fun to share my army's exploits with you here on DakkaDakka. I hope you enjoy my scribblings!

So without further ado, here is the first installation:

"The stars twisted and deformed, as if something vast was pressing against the tapestry of the stars. Then, with a scream like a thousand tormented souls, reality tore apart to form a portal into the immaterium. An insane whirlwind of colours could be seen, all the colours know to mankind, and yet others that defied description. From the centre of the portal a huge and threatening shape began to form, a bastion of cardinal red and gleaming steel. Trailing plumes of otherworldly fire that seemed to writhe with a life of their own, the Desolator class battleship clawed its way into reality. The words "Virtutem Fidei" could be seen picked out in gold on the prow of the ship, behind a leering figurehead in the shape of a daemon’s skull that trailed witchfire into the void. The portal snapped shut, leaving a few wisps of the impossible colours behind. Shapes formed in the wisps, horrible and daemonic, and tried to head for the nearby planet and the souls they sensed there, but with their source of power cut off they each vanished with screeches of frustration. Retro thrusters, hidden amongst the vast batteries of cannons and lances, fired along the flanks of the ship, turning it to face the third planet of the system. Huge engines at the rear of the ship roared into life, pushing the ship towards the planet with the power of captured stars. The 18th Grand Host of the Word Bearers Legion had arrived.

Aboard the bridge two towering figures in terminator armour stood, one in light, the other hidden in shadow, the masters of the battleship and its deadly cargo. The armour of the first was inscribed with strange runes, and he bore a staff that crackled with arcane power. Sorcerer Seltharis the Ordained turned to his companion. “This is it my Lord, Eidophin. Our operative reports that it is ripe for rebellion. We will be able to offer many souls to the True Gods in this place. However, I sense that there are many other forces here, the fate of this world hangs in the balance of the conflict to come.” The second figure spoke from the shadows, his deep voice commanded the attention and obedience of all who heard it “I care not what other forces are here, or are yet to arrive. They had better hope that our purposes align. They will stand with us, or they will die. Ready the Host for battle, there is blood to be spilt and souls to be offered for the greater glory of Chaos!” The shadows rippled as he stepped forwards into the light. The light revealed a majestic figure clad in dark crimson trimmed with gleaming silver, a long, black cloak falling from his shoulders. In his left hand he bore a giant maul, the symbol of his authority, his Crozius Maledictus. It had once been shaped like an Aquila, that great symbol of Imperial power. However, ten thousand years of hatred had twisted it and it now resembled the end of hope for mankind and struck terror into those who worshipped the False Emperor.

Dark Apostle Rikus, Master of the 18th Grand Host and Archbishop of the Powers Undivided gestured towards the planet below with his crozius. “This world will burn.”

So the first game of the campaign is tonight, I have drawn the Space Wolves for my first game. Here is the pre-game story:

Klaxons screamed out across the launch decks of the "Virtutem Fidei”. The coteries moved to their transports, some boarding Dreadclaw assault pods, others embarking in Rhinos. The warriors of the 18th Grand Host had all been anointed with the blood of the Emperor’s faithful in preparation for the coming assault drawing the attention and favour of the Chaos Gods. Daemons had been summoned, bound into banners and trapped in the iron forms of Daemon engines where their destructive powers would be could power the destructive weapons of war. They hungered for war, and would not be satisfied until the planet below bent its knee to the powers in the Warp. Rhinos and Land Raiders ground into position below the carrying racks of Thunderhawk carriers. At one end of the deck a huge team of human slaves strained under an overseer’s whip, trying to drag a struggling Defiler into a waiting Dreadclaw, specially modified to house its form, several of them being crushed and trampled in the attempt.

Into this maelstrom of activity strode Dark Apostle Rikus, flanked by his Coryphaeus, Kol Elhar, and the warriors of the Anointed, huge and intimidating in their Terminator armour. As they crossed the deck the warriors of the Host they passed dropped to their knees, heads bowed in respect, forming a crimson and gun-metal silver corridor of kneeling fighters along the Dark Apostle’s path. The leader of the 18th Host arrived at his destination, the Land Raider "Hatred’s Shield”. The ramp lowered, and the Dark Apostle marched into the assault vehicle, the Anointed close behind. The ramp was raised and the Land raider rolled into position below the waiting Thunderhawk carrier. The mag-clamps engaged and the Land Raider was lifted into position below the carrier.

Rikus turned to his Coryphaeus in the red-lit interior of the Land Raider “Are all units prepared for launch?”

“Yes, my Lord!” came the response.

“Excellent, give the signal to launch the Thunderhawks and Stormbirds and have the Dreadclaws launched 5 minutes afterwards, that we might arrive on this world as one, and show it the ways of the True Gods.”

“It shall be done.” replied Kol Elhar. The order was given, and Dark Apostle Rikus felt the engines of the transporter kick into life, propelling them into space
***************************************************
The Dark Apostle looked out across the surface of the planet, noting the terrain features, as the trails left by the drop pods and assault craft dissipated in the skies above him. Surveying the low, rolling hills of the terrain a flash of grey caught his eye. As he turned to face the movement a long, animalistic howl split the air and a line of barbaric looking Space Marine clad in grey, their shoulders displaying a black wolf’s head on a yellow field, crested the hills ahead.

“Space Wolves” growled Rikus across the vox-net “It would seem like our brothers would like to greet us. Assume battle formations!”

He boarded "Hatred’s Shield” again the Land Raider taking its place at the point of the Word Bearer’s formation.

“Let us give them a warm welcome!”

Well, week one of the campaign didn't go well, I got beaten by the Space Wolves and Tyranids.

Dark Apostle Rikus had long known that the Gods of Chaos were fickle, and could turn their faces from their champions without a moment’s notice. Never had this been as clear to him as now.

The battle with the Space Wolves had not gone well. The 18th Grand host had taken a terrible beating at the hands of Russ’ savage sons in the ruins of a burning village. Their luck had been horrendous as well. The Space Wolves first volley had destroyed all of the Word Bearers heavy support weapons, a missile killing the Defiler and driving the daemon spirit back to the warp, while a multi-melta shot had rendered “Hatred’s Shield” inoperable. The 18th Host had fought hard, and had looked like they would be able to hold their ground in the village, but the Space Wolves assault had been savage, and they had been forced to retreat from the village, and lie low in the plains beyond until the next day. Rikus contented himself with the thought that he had left their Wolf Lord with his life bleeding out into the soil.

The Word Bearers had returned to the village the next day. They had recovered their wrecked vehicles, “Hatred’s Shield” had been repaired and a new daemon had been bound into the still form of the Defiler. The recovery operation had almost been completed when the sentries had voxed in that they had spotted Tyranids approaching from the north. The 18th had quickly fortified some positions in the village, and prepared to weather the storm. The battle had been going well until the hive Tyrant entered the fray. The Word Bearers had killed a Trygon Prime and a Mawlock, and a swathe of lesser tyranid organisms. However, the Hive Tyrant and its guard had dragged down the Anointed one by one, and the Dark Apostle himself was badly wounded by one of the lesser organisms stabbing him in the back while he duelled with the Tyrant. In the end the Word Bearers had had to fall from the fighting and return to orbit, the Tyranids were too battered to follow. The initial landing had failed. The Word Bearers would need to try to land elsewhere to establish a foothold on Eidophin.

C&C welcome!

I really like what your doing here! The narrative is great.

The dark apostle has my condolences, and as a devoted son of chaos I'm rooting for him in the future. Keep fighting the good fight, tear down the loyalist scum!

I have a couple of weeks writing to catch up on, but I'm worried about my Dark Apostle's intelligence. He spent this week trying to capture prisoners to interrogate. Seems like a good idea - except I was playing Tyranids!

Thanks for the encouragement though!