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RL Setting

My FLGS is running a campaign. I am second in charge when our main manager is not there. Right now we have a large board of 36 planet tiles from planetary empires and mighty empires mixed. 7 more make up a moon.The planet is named Irsuna. ALL tiles are occupied as we are running into month 3 of the campaign. Instead of interest waning, more and more people seem to want in. We are up to 14 players now. And 4 factions. They are Imperial, Chaos, Liberator Xenos (aliens that want to capture the planet for themselves) and Devourer Xenos (aliens that just want to destroy stuff) That is the basic setting. Recently due to the game shop being near a military post a lot of our imperial players have deployed in real life, shrinking that faction to only a Dark Angel player and a newish Guard player. I run the Liberator Xenos with my Tau army...but have been asked to play my Black Templar army to help buff up the imperium front. Without going to much into all the players, the imperium as of this post holds 6 territories, chaos 9, devourers 9 and liberators 19. My tau do very well

Anyways, with my Black Templars being requested I have decided to actually narrate their crusade to help the Dark Angels purge Irsuna. Since the moon is completely chaos right now, I will start my Templars there. I COULD do formal battle reports in the campaign section but I chose to do a fiction story fully based on my battles. You will read about my fighting company and see the actual makeup of my army and see how each battle will take place through the narrative. My first game as templars is this saturday, and below is my Prelude to the campaign narration. Comments are welcome. I will be creating a blog in order to formally order all the parts of the story, while also continueing posts here. The blog will contain any other out of story posts I have as well as pictures of my Templars in action. Feel free to post anything you have to say.

Irsuna Campaign Prelude

“As you are aware, we have recently arrived in the Irsuna system. The Dark Angels and what remains of the system's Guard forces have a presence on the planet below, located here…” the planet referenced glowed brighter in the projection above the table, ensuring everyone was oriented on the strategic situation, “and this,” now the moon above that planet grew in intensity, “is our objective. We have received a request to neutralize the entire planetoid. The moon has three critical locations, a spaceport, a small arms and ammunition manufactorum, and a heavily fortified interplanetary cannon.” Each location in turn was marked by a red numeral on the lunar surface as he spoke. “The cannon is a hard target, built primarily to withstand orbital assaults but weak against a fast, close-action ground assault…our specialty.” His brother Templars all grunted with slight humor. “As you all can guess, that cannon is the priority. From its location on the moon, enemy forces can bombard the planet below with near impunity, and it has also forced the Dark Angel Strike Cruiser Uziel’s Might to relocate to the far side of the planet…limiting their capabilities on the planet. That is the broad situation.” He waved his hand; the images in front of his brethren disappeared allowing him to see all faces before him.

Marshal Hartnackig sat at the aft end of his Company’s Round Table. Twelve other Astartes were equally spaced around the table save for one seat. As tradition dictated, the stern-most seat directly across from the Marshal was empty. It would only be filled by the Emperor’s Will. It wouldn’t be long now, it never was before battle. To his left, his second in command, sat Castellan Kuhn. To his right, Master of Sanctity and Reclusiarch Messertatze and Heilig respectively. Continuing counterclockwise sat Schlitten, Raketer, and Schwert. Those three were accepted and proven members of his House, the top three of his Company Sword Brethren. They each respectively led the Fighting Company assault terminators, terminators and a small but elite sword brethren squad. Beyond them sat his crusader sergeants, leaders of the company crusader squads; Kreuzritter, Dschihad, and Heilstreit. They were not yet sword brethren, but they each were proven enough to be allowed to lead the units in charge of training the neophytes, his company’s future generation of brothers. Further around the table sat brothers Radfahrer, Witterung and Luftengriff. They were the company biker, speeder and assault marine leaders. Specializing in fast attacks against the enemy, they would be critical in the campaign to come. Each face intently looked to his as he examined each in turn. Marshal Hartnackig never ceased to be amazed at the pure will and determination his brothers showed before battle. With these Astartes as his brothers, failure was becoming a word unknown. Victory had always been a certainty; Hartnacking had yet to be even remotely defeated since being granted this company by the High Marshal.

“We have detoured from our Great Crusade to assist the Dark Angels here for one reason; the moon is held by the Enemy. Chaos forces have not forcefully taken this moon in righteous combat; they have perverted the sacred souls of the imperial guardsmen and won this moon with dark deceptions. Our fellow man had no opportunity to prove their loyalty to the Emperor; so quickly were they twisted and warped by evil.

We have two battle plans open to us. As in my previous campaigns with this Company, all options will be presented for review by unit leaders. And as before, we will choose together as a united Company the best plan of action. First,” the moon image reappeared, and with each action spoken, iconography appeared to highlight the battle plan, “we take the moon alone. We drop forces directly into the spaceport, assault outward to the manufactorum and afterwards regroup. This cuts off resupply and reinforcements from the planet below, ensuring sound battle lines to our rear as we then move on the lunar fortress. The Enemy is numerous, but the plan is sound…if risky for us alone. “Hart reset the moon projection.
“Our second option is to have the Dark Angels distract the Enemy with simultaneous assaults on the spaceport and manufactorum…we then make a deep strike directly into the fortress and capture the Cannon. This plan is potentially a much quicker solution, but relies upon our Angel brothers to significantly distract the Enemy from the fortress in order for us to successfully deep strike. With only one action and our whole company with us, I believe the second plan to carry less risk and, granted successful distraction, better chances for complete victory. What say you all?” Hart first looked left, the first word always given to his second.

“Marshal, the Dark Angels need support from us to neutralize the moon, not a distraction for their own forces from the planetary battles they already face. I say alone. We risk shame upon our Company if we need assistance to assist our brothers.” Castellan Kuhn spoke firmly, resolute in his choice. Hartnackig agreed within. It would be his choice to take this task upon his Company alone. But Hart firmly believed in discussing all options. It did nothing to demean his stature as Marshal to discuss plans, as he was always the leading authority…but it did great things to involve subordinates; most of all it trained the next generation of leaders…castellans and marshals to come, desperately needed in the future to lead the Great Crusade. “Chaplains, what say you?”

Master and Reclusiarch looked at one another, then with a slight nod the Master gave his subordinate permission to speak. “Marshal, our spirits allow us no option other than glorious combat alone. We will not share this challenge with any other. The Dark Angles consort with witches, for all that they are our brothers. We cannot risk the Enemy being allowed at our flanks and rear during the coming campaign. Alone say I.” Having spoken his piece, the entire Round looked to Master of Sanctity Messertatze. All that was heard was an approving grunt followed by a sincere nod of approval. Messertatze was not known for his words, but his actions. During a prior campaign against the greenskins, he had closed into combat with their warboss, using his axes to methodically dismember every limb in turn…but not until after having his own throat viciously ripped asunder. The warboss’ teeth were on a thin chain around his neck. Messertatze apparently thought it had been a fair trade for his voice. The Company apothecaries had hope for his great speeches to one day take place again, but not any year soon. Among the initiates and neophytes however, it was rumored that he could speak, but chose to do so only to the dying enemies he left behind him on the field of combat. Messertatze always went for the in close kill, and always appeared to whisper to those he slew as he laid down foe after foe before him.
Normally a Marshal would have replaced his Master with a chaplain that could speak and take care of the spiritual needs of his brothers, but Reclusiarch Heilig took care of that well enough…and no brother failed to take heart in combat while Messertatze took the field. No, Hart would keep Messertatze as his Master of Sanctity until only death or the Emperor’s will demanded otherwise.

The sword brethren took their turn to speak. Having conferred together at some point, only the senior sword brother spoke. Leader of the assault terminators, Brother Schlitten often spoke for all of the Company elite. “Marshal, we want this honor for ourselves. Never would we willingly choose to share burdens properly belonging to us alone.” Hartnacking held in his approval so far, keeping his expression and voice properly neutral. “Assaulters?”

Similar to how the sword brethren deferred to their highest skilled brother, the assault specialists deferred to Initiate Luftengriff. Even though only an initiate, he led the assault marines with extreme vigor. He was often graced with the Reclusiarch’s presence in battle. Heilig had been an assault marine before becoming a chaplain, and still held dearly onto the jump pack he was first given. His zeal and fervor appeared to be rubbing off on Initiate Luftengriff. Hartnackig knew within that Luftengriff would likely never make it into his House, never join his sword brothers. No, his path most likely would fall under Messertatze’s holy oversight within a mere few years. Luft spoke nearly with as much zeal as his chaplain brother, “Marshal, we say alone. Send us to be your distraction. With our land speeders, bikes and my assault marines, I guarantee you we can pull enough of the Enemy to the spaceport to allow a successful deep strike upon the Cannon. Let us take the place of the Dark Angels in your plan, we will emerge victorious.”

“No brother, your courage and righteous fury are well placed, but you will be needed at the fortress, regardless of which plan we choose.” Out of the corner of his eye, Hart did not miss Messertatze’s approving grin. “Initiates?”

“We agree alone, Marshal. Our initiates are young. Trained, but still fresh. We cannot chance the risk of witches within our ranks. We know the Dark Angels are strong, but they are not fully trustworthy. Their librarian gives us pause. Alone say we.” Kreuzritter would be a sword brother soon, another strong member to be inducted into Hartnackig’s House. He showed not the zeal of a chaplain, but the sound tactical mind required of a Templar leader. He could go far, in time. And though they had the option to speak, the other two crusader leaders merely nodded approval for their senior initiate brother.

All having spoke, Hartnackig rose, “We are all of…” the doors to his Round Table room slammed open. The interruption was ill timed, but one never stood against the Astartes who strode in. An initiate, freshly risen from neophyte walked into the room and stood behind the last empty seat. All around the table watched in silence. Only the initiate and Marshal stood, at opposite ends of the Round. The lower Templar spoke first. “Marshal, I have felt the Emperor’s Will. We will face this Enemy alone. We will achieve glorious victory. And we will not stop this crusade when our mission is complete. The Enemy is below as well. We have not been requested, but we will aid our brothers below. Alone this moon, together the planet. I, Initiate-Brother Kampfer, will be His Champion, and crush the Enemy’s most mighty in His name.”

“Welcome champion. Be seated and at home at this Round.” With Hart the last Templar standing he addressed all. “We are all agreed. Alone we will take this moon. In addition, the Emperor has graced us with His will. We will take the cannon, support our brethren Angels below with its fire and assist them in purging this planet of the Enemy. Chaos can only falter before the might of Black Templar and Dark Angels combined. Inform your brothers, prepare your arms, and gird your wills…we make moonfall on the spaceport at local dawn.”

The room emptied save for Hartnackig and Messertatze. The Master of Sanctity rarely left the Marshals side. “Shall we inform our friends below?” Only a grunt replied, but an approving grunt. Hart reactivate the imager centered in the Round. Belial himself was leading the campaign on the planet surface; his visage showed recent victory, so covered in remnants of the Enemy was his armor. “Yes Marshal? Have you responded to our request?” “Yes, we are here. Moonfall will occur at dawn. We will purge the moon and then take your input for where we will strike next on the planet.”

“You plan to join us then on the surface? Good, I will draw up a list of priority targets we expect to need purging in the coming days. You will be informed. For the Emperor.”
“For the Emperor.” The image faded. “Messertatze, you and yours, go sanctify our brothers. Have our mechanicum trained brothers wake Wollstoff from his slumber. His ancient expertise in siege warfare will be needed in the coming days. Meet me in the armory after. We will make moonfall together, leading our first assault side-by-side as tradition demands.” Messertatze nodded acknowledgement, leaving Hart alone in the core of his ship.

Strike Cruiser Gottendamerung smoothly glided through the dark, closing on the target moon. The name had special meaning to Hart. It translated to Twilight of the Gods, or End of the Gods. It signified the end of the Enemy and those they foolishly worshipped. In Hart’s mind, the moon was already his. He was already pondering where Belial would request his planetfall in the coming days.

Hartnackig’s latest Crusade had just begun in full.

Moonfall

Strike Cruiser Gottendamerung

Adorned in his hallowed tactical dreadnought armor, Marshal Hartnacking stood next to his old friend. Silent as ever, Master of Sanctity Messertatze stood his own version of terminator armor. Wearing the holy visage of the Emperor, Hart couldn't see his friends grim face, only the skull helm that covered it. Like it had in all times past, that image gave him heart. Turning further around, his chosen House members, led by Sword Brother Schlitten awaited behind him. They numbered eight altogether; the Marshal, Master, and the Company assault terminators. Patient hatred emanated from each form in the enclosed teleporter hold. The unit was still aboard the Gottendamerung. Moonfall would be in mere minutes. The initial team below would call them in from above when a destination had been marked for their arrival.

The designator beacon in the center of the room shifted to green. They were needed below.

"The first strike in a campaign must be swift, powerful, and bold. Make your presence known, so that all shall fear your arrival. The Emperor is with us. The thunder from your strikes will echo his name for all ears to behold." Hartnackig spoke, and all around struck their thunder hammers to the deck, causing a single, holy knell in the room. As a gargantuan bell, the teleporter hold carried the note of impending doom for long seconds after the hammers' strike. By the time it faded to silence, all Templars within were gone. Gone to cleanse the moon below.


Moon - Irsuna alpha

As the Emperor's Champion it was Initiate Kampfer's duty to lead in the absence of the Marshal Hartnackig or any other headquarters representative. The Company was deployed from the Gottendamerung little over an hour ago. Company units surrounded Irsuna alpha's only spaceport. The attack was already underway. Having been in the planning room while the Company's holy Armor of Faith was being prepared for him, Kampfer knew his strike was only one of three. The other two attacks on the spaceport would come from other angles, directing enemy attention elsewhere for his strike; the true attack. Kampfer looked out upon the spaceport from his crater rim. Behind him to either side were Initiates Kreuzritter and Dshihad, their squads forming a perimeter on the crater rim.

"What do you see, Champion?" A voice said, modulated heavily by the vox in his helm. The lack of atmosphere required completely internal communications, and for all of Kampfer's role as a leader, he still had trouble distinguishing brothers' voices over vox. Kreuzritter was tapping his bolter while staring at Kampfer when he turned, identifying himself as the speaker in a way that would be obvious only to Kampfer. The Champion nodded thanks. "Kreuzritter, bring Dshihad and the heavy weapons to the center of the crater. We must formulate a plan from what I have seen."

The two leaders shifted initiates and the few neophytes they had to cover the crater while the others were gathered in the center. After all assembled, Kampfer struck the Black Sword deep into the regolith and began. "The sword is our location." Dragging his gauntlet into the soil deeply, he carved a large rectangle into the ground. A rock was placed touching the closer long edge, slightly off center. "This is the spaceport. Our brethren attack from the rear and the northern flank. We will approach the control tower marked by this rock. We close in as far as we can before engaging the enemy. At first sign of contact, Kreuzritter voxes Gottendamerung for the Marshal's arrival. The ideal strike is to place them at the base of the tower. All enemies will be between our heavy bolter and plasma cannon fire and the Marshal's assault team. I want Kreuz and the plasma cannon on our left. Dschihad, take your heavy bolter on our right. I will take center alone."

"Understood."
"Understood, Champion."

The Templars moved out at a hearty pace. Running was impossible in the moon's gravity, but the heavy mass of their armor allowed the marines to leap/jog at a pace still unattainable by unaugmented man. They were not unseen. Enemy forces spewed forth from the tower and spaceport proper to meet them. Bolts and weaker autogun rounds were exchanged heavily while Kampfer took note of the growing battle.

The tower's second floor was lit up by at least 4 ancient autocannons. A quick vox ordered Kreuz and his plasma cannon and plasma gunner to focus on the chaos marines causing havok from there. Two large mobs of twisted men came from the spaceport hangers. At least 20 cultists in each mob, they posed a heavy threat even with their weak armaments. Dschihad and his heavy bolter were responding to those on their own initiative. Kampfer knew the other attacks would have diverted many of the Enemy away...but not so many. There were more here, unseen as of yet but sure to arrive soon.

"Reinforcements inbound, Champion." This vox was completely flat, almost dead in its monotone. A servitor. It could only have come from the Strike Cruiser above, meaning Kreuz must have already designated the tower entrance for the assault team. Kampfer still stood upon the open moonscape, appraising the situation. Alone, he must have appeared as no threat to the enemy. No one was firing at him, or even seemed to recognize his presence. He strode forward, seeking something. Kampfer was drawn to the tower. He knew within there was his goal. Not the goal of taking the spaceport...no, HIS goal. Both Kampfer's and the Emperor's. Something, no...someone in that tower was his target. The challenge had been foreseen. It was his purpose in this battle. A great Enemy to Man was within, and it required his assistance to die.

Kampfer did not have to wait long. Soon after taking his first step on his path to the tower the Enemy appeared. Leading a unit of ten traitor marines stood a horrifying, twisted remnant of a once ancient brother. Motioning forward while spewing rhetoric that bled through even into his vox, Kampfer locked gazes with him. It was undeniably the Enemy version of a chaplain. A traitor Word Bearer chaplain. This was his target. This was the enemy his Emperor desired laid low. Never pausing, Kampfer gripped hard the hilt of the Black Sword and strode forth, regardless of the odds.

A burst of incandescent light appeared above the chaplain, on the second floor. When it cleared, it was obvious at least three of the thundering autocannons had been silenced. A perfect strike from Kreuz's cannoneer. Glancing, Kampfer noted that Kreuz's whole squad was still moving to the flank. One brother was not in formation. His retrieval would be a priority after the port was taken. To the other side of him, Dschihad and his unit were absolutely annihilating the poorly armed cultists. Heavy bolter fire shredded through the mobs leaving only incomplete remains of whoever the holy bolts contacted. Looking forward now, Kampfer began the same leaping jog he and his brothers used to cover their initial ground. "Running" towards the enemy chaplain, impacts upon his body were the telltale signs of enemy fire being directed upon him, none of it coming close to wounding him.

***Have to go to lunch says the wife...will continue shortly***