Hi there.
I thought I would share this as I enjoyed both playing and afterward, telling the story.
I hope at least someone else enjoys it too.
Prelim
I haven' t played a game of
40K in about 2 years and for some reason decided last night to have a go.
You will have to forgive me but I used my old rule books and codexs (codecies?) instead of rushing off to spend ££££££ on new ones.
I also took liberties with the force organisation chart as I just wanted 500 or so points each to get into the swing of things.
I also played against myself as I had no-one else to play against. Either way, I knew I would win. . .
Anyway onto the story - hope you enjoy it.
Location
South City
Forces
SM = 498 Orks = 500
Scouts Warboss
Sergeant Attack Squig
7 x Scouts Power Klaw
Teleport homer Ammo Runt
4x Sniper Rifles Bosspole
4 x Bolters T/L Shooter
Cloaks
Terminators Nobs
Sergeant 8 x Nobs
2x Chainfists Waaagh Banner
Assault Cannon 2 x Bosspoles
Stikkbombs
Dreadnaught 2 x T/L Shooters
Missile Launcher 2 x Kombi Weapons
T/L Heavy Flamer 2 x Big Chopper
1 x Power Klaw
Trukk
Red Paintjob
Reinforced Ram
Wrecking Ball
Story
Warboss Kr’aag da Krazy decided it was high time for a party. He and a few of his lads set off with all the makings to find a quiet place to brew some beer, where the rest of the horde wouldn’t find it and drink it before it was ready. Although he always enjoyed a bit of headbashing of wayward orks, he far preferred drinking fungus beer. With all the stuff loaded into the back of his trukk, he and a handful of his Nobs set off into the ruins of South City. As befitting to an Ork Of His Stature, he had 2 Deffkopter Outriders along too.
An abandoned factory building seemed the ideal spot and whilst he oversaw the Nobs lugging the stuff up to the top floor, the Deffcoppers went for a Zoom and a Look See.
The brew was mixed, the Keg locked down and Kr’aag was just throwing stikk grenades for Skelem, his pet squig, to fetch, when the Deffcopters came zooming back with exciting news! Just around the corner was a blown up Beakie wagon and all sorts of bits were lying round just for the taking!
Kr’aag and his Nobs piled in to the truck and dashed off in a cloud of billowing black smoke to go and investigate.
Coincidentally, a small squad of scouts, intent on finding out what happened to the Rhino carrying a Dreadnaught close combat weapon, had infiltrated the area. They heard the Trukk zoom off, and crept into the abandoned building from the rear. The boyz had just got to the wrecked Rhino when one of the Deffcopters noticed movement in the building! With a shriek to da Boss, he turned and boosted his Copter back towards the building.
The other Deffcopter headed off in a pincer movement to cover the back of the building whilst the Trukk pulled a hand break turn and dashed back in the direction they had came from – all the while trailing a plume of black smoke and emitting a cacophony of grinding gears and a screaming, high revving engine.
The scouts split into 2 groups, the snipers headed to the stairs to get to the next floor. They tried to run up them, but made little headway up the fragile construction. In a fateful tactical error, the sergeant lead the others towards the back door, hoping to get around the building and make an attack from an unexpected direction. Again, the building conspired against them and the squad only moved a few yards through the gloomy, cluttered room before it was too late. Behind them, the trukk trundled towards the building and the pincering deffcopter made a banking turn and came their way again.
With a roar of jet engine and a cloud of dust, the first Deffcopter arrived at the doorway! The maniacal ork driving it didn't even slow down as he flew right into the building before swooping to a stop, point blank range from the Sergeant’s squad.
The rotor blades beat the air around them, the noise deafening. With a hooting, gleeful yell, the Ork pulled the trigger, and then again, just in case. A rocket belched from the front of the machine, arrowing into the chest of one of the scouts. He was blown to tiny bits in an instant.
The other Deffcopter, not to be left out, fired his missiles too, this time at the scouts half way up the stairs but although he could see his target through the window, the rockets exploded harmlessly against the outside wall.
By now the deffcopter and the Sergeant’s squad were in hand to hand combat. The ork bringing his machine close to the ground to take a wild swipe at them. The scouts, well trained and nimble got to him first! With a flurry of fist, boots and boltgun blows, they beat into the jetbike. The Sergeant grabbed hold of something and pulled with all his might! It snapped off in his hand! The Ork’s frantic blows did nothing to the marines’ armour and as he saw the revs start to drop, he tried to make a get away – to no avail. The copter was dragged to the floor and the ork was ripped out and slain.
As they dispatched the pilot, the sergeant activated his teleport homer. It buzzed in a frighteningly useless way. A splinter of shrapnel from the dead scout had pierced the device, damaging the inards.
The snipers in the other squad, returned fire at the other deffcopter. With 3 shots ringing out in quick succession, only 1 actually hit the mark. The deffcopter began bellowing smoke, slowed drastically and drooped towards the ground. The last scout to fire had put the time to good use and this time put his round between the eyes of the pilot. In almost slow motion, the whole conglomerate crunched into the ground and was destroyed.
Bolt gun rounds spat from the open door, and although hits were made on the rapidly approaching trukk, they ricocheted away harmlessly.
By now, the Truck had reached the doorway and with bloodcurdling yells, the passengers jumped over the railings, some over the side, but most, following the enraged, blood hungry warboss, with a wild leap straight over the front - towards the enemy, stepping all over the driver and gunner in the process.
As their boots hit the concrete floor, they let rip their guns! In typical orky fashion bullets flew in all directions. One of those directions was fatal and another scout was felled. Not wasting a moment in their mad rush, the orks began swinging even before they could reach the remaining beakies. The scouts parried and struck, wounding one ork. They could not survive however, falling to a combination of blows from a myriad of orkish weapons.
Power claws and motor driven axes still reving away, the orkis troop slowly but menacingly stomped towards the stairs.
In an epic moment, the last four scouts looked at each other, their steely eyes met in succession. They all knew what their options were, and they all knew which option it was to be. As one, they seemed to nod, and then turning with a shout of defiance they drew their pistols and opened fire, following with a charge into the pack of orks. Although brave, their last action was ineffective and they died messily amongst a flurry of blows from the enraged orks.
The orks were quick to react and piled back into the truck, for moments before, with a shimmering flash, 5 terminators had appeared outside. The homing device, although damaged, had at least sent a distress call. The termies had, without full benefit of the device, arrived regardless.
The trukk careered in their direction at full speed. The red paint miraculously helping them move faster and further. The gunner held on for dear life with both hands and was unable to even fire his weapon.
The heavy metal ram on the front of the metal behemoth came nearer and nearer, but at the last moment, the terminators stepped aside and out of harms way.
The dauntless terminators took stock and fired into the oncoming vehicle, bullets bouncing from the metal work in a display of sparks and thunder. One bolt took the head off the gunner who splattered blood all over the driver, blinding him with gore.
As the trukk rumbled to a stop, again the green monsters piled out, yelling and screaming, firing uncontrollably as they landed. The bullets flying everywhere were totally ineffectual against the terminators heavy armour. Regardless, the beasts charged into close combat. Whilst the quicker orks battered away, a lucky blow from an ork with a big chopper pierced the armour of one of the space marines, just as his power sword lopped off his head. The battle came down to power klaws and chain fists and terminator power fists but the neither side gained the advantage.
Slower to arrive, a dreadnaught entered the arena from behind a ruined building. Denzil had arrived.
The ancient warrior took stock of the situation, and cautiously avoided firing into the maul of ork and space marine alike. He aimed carefully and let loose a missile from the pod bolted to his weapon point. The missile streaked unerringly into the engine bay of the trukk, blowing it to bits and ending it’s ability to move.
The fistfight continued with the outnumbered terminators taking blows against their ceramic plates. A power klaw came flying through the mailstrom, snarling with menace, but the marine activated his crux and the klaw bounced off ineffectually. The marines rallied but it was not to be. Skelem the squig lurched to the end of his chain and was yapping insanely at a terminator’s heels when the marine fatally looked down to see what it was. Distracted, he never saw the roundhouse coming from Skelem’s owner. The Power Klaw ripped into the chest cavity of the hapless marine. Blood gushed from the maw. Not stopping for an instant, Kr’aag followed with a backhand into the last surviving Terminator. With a sickening crunch, the human’s brain was pulverised by the immense blow.
As the orks stopped swinging and looked around the splattered surroundings, they noticed first, one of their number spasming in the throws of death. Blood draining from the rip in his side.
Second they saw the approaching Dreadnaught.
Furious, Kr’aag set back his ugly head and from the bottom of his lungs let out an almighty WAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!
The band of orks charged pell-mell towards the walker. Denzil watched them approach, lamenting the day that he had requested a spray job and touch up on his almighty close combat weapon. Were not for his pride and want of perfection, the weapon would still be attached to his arm, in its rightful place, instead of lying ineffectually in the mud, where it had been blown from the landmine-destroyed Rhino.
He braced himself as the sea of green thundered into him, crashing into his powerful legs. The incensed Nobs swung their weapons madly. Some seemed oblivious to the fact that their weapons bounced harmlessly off the heavy armour plate. Nevertheless they continued to pound away. One nob, perhaps wiser than the rest – or perhaps not, hammered away with his stikk bomb. The resulting blast took off his hand- and the missile pod of the great Dreadnaught.
Denzil, fighting with rage, swung from the waist, catching one ork under the chin with the barrels of the heavy flamer. The ork lost most of his teef and staggered backwards, but the bent weapon would never fire again. In a coupe
de grace, the Orkish Power klaws slammed in. Steel and ceramic scattered as the fiendish orks weapons cut and crunched their way inside the Dreadnaught’s body.
KABOOOOM!
With a gigantic explosion, the ancient warrior ceased to be.
Silence.
Apart from a ringing in the ears. . .
“RIGHT LADS!” rumbled Kr’aag, as he picked himself back off the floor, “WHO WANTS A BEER?”
THE END.
edit. A pic of the Beer objective. . .
