Steelfang and his squad had set just ahead of an incoming PDF patrol 12 soliders and a chimera a hissing voice spoke to Steelfang sir shall we take the subtle approach it was Scipio -Steelfang's second in command- Scipio in the 600 years you've served with under me when have you ever know me to be subtle Steelfang jested Scipio retorted fair point sir As the chimera rolled into postion a melta bomb landed on top of it soon after detonating destroying the transport the PDF soliders were soon drowned in a hail of bolter fire as mass reactive rounds detonated in the poor soliders bodies all that was left were chunks of human flesh that were scattered over the immediate area Steelfang smiled this was just the begining of Steelfang's signature stratergy the rending claw you pull the enemy apart piece by piece let fear soak into the enemy ranks eventually they will snap and turn on each other at that momment you finish them off Steelfang mused over how his battles and stratergies used to be perscribed reading for Imperial Guard commanders many centuries ago but now not a single commander Steelfang faced had even seen such stratergies all the better for Steelfang Steelfang and his squad moved from building to building with unnatural effeiceny even for an astrates it came from centuries of practice in urban combat Steelfang and his men were on the hunt finding and killing any Imperial forces they could sowing fear into the enemy ranks while Helbras and the main force landed and began their assualt in 32 hours from now
*several kilometers a fierce battle was taking place. Thousands of men clashed in a bloody tide of death. To the right flank, an armored spearhead led by me and my command tank broke through and crushed the cultists that were charging blindly into the slaughter. All appeared well until something grabbed one of my Leman Russ tanks. It grabbed it by the chasis and ripped it apart. Then, on the opposite side, another Leman Russ was smashed by giant metallic claws. More and more appeared, and screams of agony were even heard from the confines of my command vehicle. I have seen them before. They were none other that chaos Defilers. Daemonic horrors made by the dark tech adapts that serve chaos, fused with a daemon, they were too powerful for my tanks. My tanks were dropping like flies. My Stormhammer was able to take out five of them, until one of the Defilers in an act of defiance before being torn apart by nearby Leman Russes destroyed my treads. I would call for my Leman Russ Vanquisher to deal with the defilers. But it would take too much time seeing that it was not part of my spearhead. This was to be a lightning attack, but somehow the Defilers had the drop on us. Slowly the advancing Imperial Guard forces were making progress, some of them were equipped with Las cannon turrets. But it would take them too long to arrive in time to aid us. Now, my spearhead has come to a halt and we cannot advance due to the Defilers. The enemy is beginning to surround us. My tank continues to lay down fire against the heretical horde and machines. Whenever a man is forced into a corner like this, there is only one thing he can do. Pray for deliverance. I say a small prayer to the Emperor and resume my duties. The Defilers were dwindling in numbers. But the encroaching chaotic horde was not relenting. If I called my men to retreat, we would lose the majority of our tanks. We would suffer a heavy defeat at the hands of a mere first wave. As the mournful image of this defeat was held in my mind. I saw a lone tank gunner. I did not recognize him before. But he was outside of his burning vehicle. He held two meltas in his hands. He ran up to one of the defilers while it was brutally attacking a Leman Russ. He climbed onto it, and detonated. He destroyed the defiler, as well as save the tank. I then order three of the Leman Russ tanks to protect the downed vehicle. As I watched the guardsman die. I felt... solace. We are the Imperial Guard. Our job is to die. But we die standing. Just then, a heavy round was blasted into a nearby Defiler. This round was that of a Leman Russ Vanquisher. In one shot, it downed the Defiler in a violent rage of agony. Suddenly, Two Vanquishers and another 40 Leman Russes move on to engage the enemy from where we were. The heretics engaging us were faltering, and were on the verge of routing. Vox incoming sir. Put it through. Commander, are you still breathing? Yes, just barely. Good, I'm glad I diverted some tanks over here. You never had my permis- Yes, I didn't. But apparently its what is saving your ass. As soon as we have our spearhead moving again, we will be able to cut a swath to the heart of this heretical tide, and sever its head. After that, its just a matter of sweeping up. Say, Captain. Could I commandeer your tank? No need. Just leave the spearhead managing to me. We have this one in the bag. Affirmative. *** Back at the city. A lone PDF soldier was trying to go room by room to convince the occupants to leave. He heard a large thud as the door was blasted open. He turned to look down a corridor to see an entire squad of bulking figures come in through the door. He heard screams from nearby PD soldiers who were trying to evacuate the civilians as well. They were caught unaware and vulnerable. There were screams coming from the different rooms, each one silenced after a volley of bolt shots. He quickly entered a room with a family. He recognized them. They were his best friend's family. He noticed the small boy weeping in the corner, and tried to comfort him. With terror in the eyes of the family, they did not recognize their good friend. They were frozen with fear of the horrors that were purging the entire hab building. To himself, the PDF soldier was thinking in his head. How many innocents have these... monsters killed. how many of his friends were ruthlessly shot merely doing their duty, trying to defend their homes? They were targeting civilian areas. The Knight Commander did the best he could trying to get the civilians out, but it was not enough. He tried to defend the outlying civilian centers when the troops were too spread out trying to defend all the other strategic assets. These civilians are paying the price for their refusal to leave, and he and his fellow PDF were suffering for it. All of his squad mates... gone. He heard large footsteps and the screams became louder and louder. The hissing of bolts and the explosions they caused grew in volume as well. They were coming this way. It was then his life flashed before his eyes, but halfway through the door opened. Ten giant figures stepped forth. The PDF charged the lead figure, just to be swept aside. The rifles were raised and in a split second, several blasts from las rifles came from behind them gave the giants pause. Two dozen Gaurdsman attracted the marines' attention, and they turned to face the oncoming foe. The PDF soldier saw the opportunity to move the family away while the heretics were engaging the brave guardsman. Still in shock, the family still stood there. it took them a few short seconds to start following the PDF soldier. he picked up the weeping boy, and ran for the other exit across the building, away from the heretics. They managed to escape the building alive. When he emerged, he realized that there was two hundred guardsman and PDF forces outside the building. Several tanks rolled up onto the street. with their primary weapons locked onto the building. The nearby captain voxed to the men inside to disengage and make your way to the exits. All the surviving Civilians have emerged from the building. (I think I am turning this thing into a book )
Name: Aurelius Hadrian Warband: Warriors of the Forgotten Sons Allegiance: Tzeentch. Motives: He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Weapons: Tzeentchian Assault Cannon (Right Arm) , Contemptor Dreadnought hand (Left Arm). Armor: Mounted to a Contemptor Dreadnought. Specialty: Versatile, can adapt to most battle situations. Personality: Unlike most Tzeentchian followers, he is loyal, and will not abandon a comrade for a petty goal. This change happened during his early years, before he was mounted to the ancient Dreadnought Chassis. Current Status: Wandering. Gene-seed: Being a Thousand Son, he would have suffered the flesh change, but he was a Sorcerer, so he was not afflicted with the mutations.
After several hours of jogging, Koron ended up in what appeared to be a cultist shrine dedicated to the dark mechanicus. It was abandoned. Strangely enough though it appeared that it had only been deserted recently as many of the systems and consoles where still operational and in peak condition. Koron strode cautiously towards a larger set of screens, peering curiously at what they displayed. Images of fighting and bloodshed flashed across the screen, a large tank battle with the Imperials gaining the upper hand was taking place on the outskirts of the city. Another flash showed a fierce street fighting engagement between squads of Chaos Space Marines agaist hundreds of PDF and guard forces. Once more the image flashed showing hundreds of helpless civilans hastely making their way to the nearist startport, or otherwise looting, pilliaging and causing untold mayhem. It would seem that this Imperial world was doomed, however the main body of the attacking chaos host was slowly being bogged down by the fierce conflicts occuring on the outskits of the city. Something had to be done. As Koron considered his next move there was loud reving of a chainsword followed by the roaring of the deranged. Turning Koron drew his power sword thumbing the activation rune and side-steped the blow. It was a cultisit, half crazed and froathing foam from the mouth. The cultist attempted to retreve his weapon buried in the sparking heap of consoles but died as Koron slashed his head from his shoulders. Koron scowled beneath his helmet as he realised a small gang of cultitist where now bowing before him in an unorganised fashion. Amatures Koron thought. "Who speaks amoung you?" Koron said. "I do...mirlord" A misrable mutant like creature said bowing before him his head pressed to the floor. "Get up fool, we have a world to drench in blood". Koron prefers to work with Space Marines however in dire situations such as these he must use everything that is avaible to him. "Show me a map of this place" Without question the cultisits produced a large map made of flayed human skin that showed the layout of the city. It noted the expanse of the outer city limits and inner sections. The defence lines and backup counter measures where frustratingly vauge to understand due to the map being inteded for one who served the dark mechanicus. Koron merly had to make due with what little information he could garner from this, since attempting to find better formats of information resulted in the messy death of the last cult speaker. "What is this?" Koron pointed the symbol that denoted a human skull that bisected the roman numerial of 1 and the only symbol that Koron came close to recognising. "A....Schola..Progenium milord they....they train orphas to become the officer class of the Imperium there". "Officers? Exellent gather the cultists we shall strike there" Koron declared. "But..but milord..they have heavy defences there.....bolters, lascanons and armour! We cannot hope to..." Koron snatched the wretch by throat. "Do not question me worm! Do as I have said or you'll be joining your leader in the hell of warp! Now go! Get out of my sight!" The cultists scattered making the necassary preprations. The only thing Koron needed was transport. Then he noted the chimera outside the Adeptus Mechanicus church then smiled.
Two chimeras pulled up infront of where the trail of blood ended, and two squads exit the vehicles. I have a bad feeling about this place sir. As do I corporal. Ready yourself. Sargent Volrick, is your plasma gun ready? Primed lieutenant. Be ever vigilant. I do not want to wonder into an enemy ambush. Where there is one heretic, there is often more. Sargent Baldin and squad, stay with the transports. If things get hairy I need an escape route. Men, are you ready? As... as ready as we can be sir. That will be good enough. *the squad enters the building where the trail of blood ends*
"No... No! How is this happening! Fight you damned cowards!" A puny cultist next to him replied, "But... but sire! The loyalists.... they...they too strong! They have big tanks!" "And we have daemon infused walkers. If you cultists do not fight harder then you will not be felled by loyalist bullets, you will be felled by mine! Now fight damn you! Fight in the name of the Dark Gods!" But Si-*blam!* "Whelps..." * I continue to casting bolts of frost into the hordes of Guardsman infantry* "I was too generous calling these peons 'warriors'..."
(I'm assuming I'm not allowed to wipe out DecisiveRainDrops entire troop chasing my guy, however a few of their squad don't live and they lose my trail...sort of) Koron stalked the balcony of the exterior exit that overlooked the ground entrance, watching the Imperial guardsmen approach the mechanicus church with interest. They had a lieutenant amongst their number, more astoundingly one of their own was armed with a plasma gun. They would prove a challenge to face but his goal was to acquire transport for himself not to hunt down officers just yet...... "This is how we knew you where coming mi" Koron shut the cultist up by snapping his neck. The flicker of movement and sharp motion of this action attracted the slight glace by the sergeant holding the plasma weapon. Koron and cultist with them fell deadly silent. The sergeant muttered something to the group but after a brief dialogue exchange the group moved on to breach the mechanicus church door. "Engage the squads in the church, let the servitor fire first then strike" muttered Koron. The cultist nodded and fled into the shadows, moving to set-up an ambush in the church. Koron would strike at the rear guard on his own, there where only over about a dozen of them in the alley way that lead from the main street to the church and with the couple frag grenades Koron took from the cultist weapon cash this should be a trivial matter. Koron waited for the signal. "Organisms detected activating security protocols". There was some yelling coming from the church. "Threat detected death to the heretics". Gun fire echoed from the church, the squad outside where roused to the noise it was then that a frag grenade landed in their mists. It exploded hurling several guardsmen into the air then Koron leapt from the balcony bolt pistol barking. Caught by surprise only a few of the guardsmen where able to react by taking cover and returning fire most where cut down in the open or hacked apart by Korons power sword. Despite this however a squad and half worth of the Imperials managed to regroup at the chimeras and coordinated by a Sergeant unleashed a barrage of lasround shots mounted on the chimera towards Koron. Koron was battered by lasrounds scorching his left shoulder guard and hitting his mid section. Snarling Koron took cover and primed his last frag grenade hurling it with only a few seconds fuse left on it. It landed within one of the open hatch ways of a chimera which shredded the crew and wreaked its controls rending it useless. The fire power delayed and Koron rose with a fury of a berserker and charged into the remaining guardsmen's midst's. Koron slaughtered them one by one, effortlessly hacking off limbs and spluttering blood all over the alley way. Only the Sergeant remained who stood defiantly in the operating chimera spiting las bolts from a laspistol while attempting to prime a frag of his own. The shot pinged off Korons armour and he walked mockingly towards the sergeant, holstering his bolt pistol he crushed the sergeants hand holding the laspistol then hacked off the one holding the frag. It bounced primed down the chimeras ramp which Koron kicked deftly away to slam into a corpse of a dead guardsmen the resulting explosion causing the alley way to rain with gore and bone fragments. Using the dying sergeant as a mocking shield he threw his bleeding remains out onto the cold, gore stricken street then closed the chimera door behind him. He then took up the drivers seat changing the franticly radio frequency's to the one the cultists used. "I have transport, meet me in sector 12" Koron said "Yes milord" responded a cultist. There was a dull thump at back of the chimera but Koron ignored it and drove onwards to even more bloody conquest.
Your sergeant guarding the chimeras is bleeding to death in the street. You get to decide how the engagement inside the church goes, your officers even the entire squad can live but Koron gets away to lead the assault on his target. Whether your sergeant outside lives depends upon you getting him medical treatment or not. If you do you can't warn the Scholar in time. If you leave him to die you can warn the Scholar. (btw how do I quote might make things easier)
(Next to the like button there is a reply. Its what quotes.) With the gunfire outside heard, the Lieutenant orders half of the men to see what is happening, only to find out that the men were slaughtered, and the sargent lied on the ground bleeding out, with one hand crushed, and the other cut clean off. A guardsman dragged the sargent into the building where the rest of the squad held position. The Lieutenant looked at the Sargent's wounds, drew his sword, and cut off the other hand. Sargent Volrick, your plasma gun. Give it to me, NOW! ye-yes sir. What do you plan to do with it? Cauterizing the wound... *With skill, he overheated the plasma gun to the dangerous limit, and used the tip of it's barrel to cauterizing the hands. The Sargent gave no scream, for he was unconscious the entire duration of the process.* Just then, several las rounds hits one of the guardsman. Then another. And another. The others look to see where the fire was coming from. The Lieutenant took his gaze away from the plasma gun and it became volatile. When he realized it, he tossed it into the darkness and it detonated, killing the rest of the cultists save for one. When the guardsman came upon the severely burned cultists, the lieutenant demanded where the missing chimera was heading to. The cultists refused to comply, so the lietenant cut off one of its fingers and asks again in a more hostile voice. The cultest screams in pain and replies... The... the cadet school... and dies to his wounds. "The cadet school... but that's suicidal..." "Not for a Space Marine, corporal..." "We're... we're fighting a space marine?" "Not just any space marine... A Fallen Astartes." The Lieutenant reassured. "We have to get there at once then" Sargent Volrick stated. "How?" replied a guardsman. "I checked the other transport and its toast. No way we can get to the academy." "Vox in and warn them?" This came from a different Guardsman" "Our vox caster was killed by a grenade. His vox caster equipment with him." Then... Our cadet school will be lost...
