@DeranVendar @Colapse

The order to jump would be given by Sergeant Akar, as Dyzek took to the shies, his thruster pack roaring, as he ascended up into the skies. On wings of fire, the assault marine would swiftly turn his gaze down to the mob of alien beasts below, noting with some approval, on how they focused to much on the immediate enemy. So careless, not even considering for a moment they could be flanked, or struck from anywhere but from the enemies already in sight. He and Seth would make them pay for their laxity, as he listened to the words of his brother, altering his flight path. If Seth wished to engage the Nob on his own, then he would respect his word, and the position the sergeant had placed him in, yet, as he watched the streaks of missiles from Vilhelm rush onward into the mobs.

Directing himself towards the rear of the orks, he'd land with a crash among the wreck of the Ork Trukk, taking up cover behind it. Reaching to his hip, he'd withdraw a frag grenade, pulling away it it's pin, before flipping from cover, and sighting the mob of boyz. While to the front, the group of aliens faced fire from the frontal ranks, bolters and missile launchers unleashing their wrath upon the greenskins, and Seth moved to directly challenge the leader, he'd take advantage of their distraction. Rearing back his arm, he'd launch the frag grenade onwards, letting it sail towards his enemies, looking to place it among their rear.

With that, regardless of the results of his explosive, he'd draw his bolt pistol, and selecting from the targeting runes upon his helmet's HUD. Sighting on the Ork boys closer towards their nob, he'd fire a shot at the back of one such creature. He cared little for a killing shot at this point, and instead sought to gain their attention, seeing if he could draw off some of the pressure from Seth and his engagement.
​

Actions: Frag Grenade to the Rear of the Mob, Shot against Mob.

Xerxes began to channel the dual talents of his legion and witch blood in a singular attempt to plot the best course for his bolts, and by extension, their Sergeant’s plasma. Over the course of several seconds the world is outlined in his vision with mathematical formula and grid lines of ethereal structure. A hundred trajectories for a dozen different actions ghost through his vision and Xerxes finds himself armed with a level of knowledge surely only the Iron Tyrant or their greatest siege masters could of attained in that short a period of time. Akar, for his part, does not react to the sharing of this data, mute on any concerns over the science of the psychic and instead immediately using it to lay waste to the enemy. Plasma cannon thrums something mighty and parts of the battlefield go dark as the all-consuming light of a plasma orb the size of their torsos is lobbed into the path of a war biker. A fresh crater is burned into the LZ and an ork somersaults off his bike, front half slagged by the shot and leaving a single angry greenskin to fire his slugga ineffectually at the Sergeant. An attendant penal squad laid it low with a volley of las-gun fire. Xerxes wouldn’t go unscathed, another war biker having sighted in on the large metal ‘umie. Heavy dakka guns welded onto a temperamental frame lit up the legionnaire, sheer volume of shots allowing several to penetrate his armor and punch several bloody craters in his legs.


Herchel found an opportune moment in the biker’s attack run to open fire. His penchant for examination so far had allowed him to spot a number of weak spots in the vehicle itself. Several chains of bolts ripped from his pistol. First volley blew out a poorly armored engine causing an eruption of flame that engulfed both rider and ride. Second series of shots blew out the back tire, bringing the bike to a dead, burning halt at the foot of a raised heavy bolter position. Third and final war biker in their immediate vicinity began attempting to affect what might have been evasive maneuvers. For his part it was actually working as he sped about the field erratically, drifting on occasion to dodge shots. Marcus couldn’t strike his target for the life of him as several bolts simply picked off some nailed on armor plates, and another volley was negated by a sudden power slide that left the Ork going underneath the deadly brass.


Similarly Wilson would find a three round burst going wide, the ork doing the unexpected and briefly stopping of all things. Before he could adjust and draw a bead on the greenskin a stikkbomb was lobbed through the air and bounced off his head before detonating. While ensuing shrapnel storm wasn’t really a concern to him in his power armor, the blast itself managed to shake him up. There were several mangled auxiliary bodies left at his feet as well. At least coming to a brief halt for that grenade toss allowed Grunvil a clear shot at his target. Frag missile streaked near and detonated, showering the surroundings in dozens of razor sharp fragments of metal. Ork bike flipped over and rolled away several feet, by some stroke of orkish luck, it ended up upright; granted its rider was now suitably pissed off being covered in dozens of tiny slices. “YOOZ DON SCRATCHED UP ME RIDE GIT! “ Peeling out the moment foot found the pedal Gunvil’s second missile was left to sail off into a cliff wall, wasted.


With the war bikers mostly under control all Vilhelm and Seth were left tackling the horde and its Nob leader currently shooting and hacking a path up their trenches. With abundant targets and a weapon meant for just these sorts of moments, Vilhelm laid waste to a dozen of the thuggish xenos with a pair of frag missiles. First shot streaked into the front most warriors, bodies tumbling over in the smoke with shredded flesh plastered across the ground. Several penal warriors that had ducked their heads from the proximity of the explosion were whipped viciously by an overseer to get them, and more importantly their weapons, back on the line. Second missile speared deeper into the mob through the smoking hole left by the first shot. More green bodies were catapulted into the air with ribbons of blood spiraling behind them from a mass of shrapnel tears. A storm of shots answered his own long ranged fire, a big shoota revealing itself from among the bloodied horde and spewing slugs all over the area in Vilhelm’s general direction. A handful of shots clipped the warrior, and eventually a handful more managed to find purchase through the ceramite plate leaving him with a small puncture in his arm.


All that remained was for their assault units to engage. Seth and Dyzek both took to the skies and landed further afield than any other unit. Latter planted himself down in cover to launch a surprise assault on the foe, rather than simply dropping into the heart of a mob of the brutes, whom by all rights could take him enmasse. Grenade slipped loose from his hand and tumbled amid the already scattered charge of aliens, and for the third time in under two minutes an explosion would rip through their ranks. Another half dozen bodies collapsed as those near the epicenter of the blast were shredded, and those just beyond succumbed to the stacking wounds from so many gashes. Bolt pistol was drawn for continue the onslaught but Dyzek quickly found reason to retreat behind his cover as three stikkbombs were lobbed his way. Each one bounced from the ruined vehicle and exploded harmlessly on the other side.


This left Seth who had boldly sought out the Ork leader. Nob turned his leathery face to the sky, one eye closed by a series of stitches through his eyelids the other struggled to ascertain just how far away the marine was; so he opened fire. Kombi-flamer sent a cloud of flame upwards, inferno’s spread negating the poor accuracy of the large greenskin. Seth would crash down on solid earth, momentarily blinded by flame and cooking inside his armor. Whatever had been used for fuel was mighty potent. While still recovering from his descent the Nob lurched forward with a broad bodied chain choppa, made with proper metal teeth thanks to the supplies of the planet they now fought over. Weapon raised towering alien prepared a titanic swing to bitch chop Seth. A single bolt came from further afield and blew off Nob’s ear, distracting it enough for assault warrior to regain his wits and gather some space.


“Don’t get in over your head Seth, I’ll only say it once.” Akar’s voice came in loud and clear, flat toned as he usually was. For the other heavy weapon troopers they could see that Sergeant had briefly lowered his plasma cannon in one hand to draw his pistol; eyes helmeted tilted toward the Nob below. Despite this initial save Seth still had to deal with the follow up, the Nob had been distracted rather than wounded. A shoulder crashed into his chest plate and sent him staggering back, even as a trans-human super soldier his enemies could still knock him around. A follow up slash came in hot, but Seth was ready this time and he side stepped the blow, own chain-axe licking out and tasting Ork flesh. Nob snarled as the adamantium teeth split skin and severed muscles. It wasn’t anywhere enough to put the alien down though and wounded arm swung out for a punch that once again staggered the young marine.


It was a strong start for Seventh squad. A fair number of the enemy had already been slain and wounds were minimal at best. There was always more orks though, as the fresher members of the Iron Warriors were about to discover. More trukks, bikes and other vehicles were rolling up and over their lines. Defensive emplacements chugged and the Imperial Army fought hard to hold the line, yet what good were trenches when the enemy rode straight over them. Even if the vanguard were slain there were three more bodies for every one gunned down, all of them made that much more eager by the bloodshed. Further down the ravine currently leading up to their position more enemy vehicles made a bee-line for the heart of the fight where word spread like wildfire that worthy foes awaited. Even as mortars carpeted the earth in explosions and blew out the cliff walls the greenskins refused to relent. More boyz flocked to the area, troopers quickly finding that aiming wasn’t necessary to actually hit the enemy.


It was with a throaty roar of super charged engines that three new vehicles came rolling into the fray. A pair of vehicles that the Imperium classified as War Tracks, light skirmish vehicles that consisted of little more than a weapon platform on wheels, manned by a pilot and a gunner. Each one came equipped with twin-linked big shootas, weapons spewing enough of the beloved ‘dakka’ that even way beyond effective range shots were already pinging off the back row of astartes. Perhaps more concerning, for the men in the trenches anyway, was the approach of a modified war trakk know as a Scorcha. An armored turret rose from the crude metal platform being towed by the actual vehicle, spinning to and fro as a burner nozzle spewed tongues of flame excitedly in the general direction of the Imperials.



Tides of War: Seventh Squad and Imperial Army (Lead by Sergeant Akar) VS. Ork Speed Freaks (No Leader)
Advantage: Ork Advantage

Seventh Squad:
Seth: 9 Xerxes:8 Vilhelm:9 Herchel:10 Wilson:9 Marcus:10 Dyzek:10 Grunvil:10 Akar:15
Conditions: Xerxes - Possibility Shield will last 3 more rounds.

Speed Freaks:
War Biker: 1 Ork Slugga Mob:25 Nob: 6 (Kombi-Burna) Scorcha: 5 War Trakks: 4/4
Conditions: Attacks on Ork units at range receive -1 to hit due to smog cover while bikers are alive. The last war biker will be focusing solely on Grunvil with attack actions only. Due to being enraged it gains a bonus attack action. Each turn that the Scorcha is active it will buff the Ork Tides of War roll by 2.

@Redthirst @Colapse @Draconion @Grall_Stonefist @Vlayden @Valonox @BruticusTheGoreHound @Vulpas

"Someone get those damned trakks!" The recruit shouted out as he checked his ammo count - still over two-thirds full. He looked about through the smog and got a look at the Nob.
He shouldered the weapon once more and took aim, firing a few more bursts at the greenskin - small bursts, keep the recoil under control. He thought to himself, knowing that he'd need to make sure his shots actually hit. The War biker seemed to have something in its sights, and he'd rather not risk friendly fire.
His eyes and ears were kept open in this engagement and he listened to whatever his companions had to say - his eyes on the Autosenses and the HUD systems, whilst his ears were open for any vox chatter that may be of importance.

OOC; Two attacks against the Nob, with Boltgun

@DeranVendar

Feeling the vibrations of the stikk bombs going off beyond the safety of his cover, Dyzek would find thoughts of firing back into the ork mob to be pushed aside. He hadn't been able to see what had become of Seth, yet he'd heard the words of the Sergeant, and was convinced his brother yet lived. No, it would be report of enemy reinforcements that drew his attention, as he'd turn to see the oncoming enemy war vehicles rushing toward the Imperial lines. With this in mind, Dyzek would take to the skies once more, sending a quick message over the vox to Brother Seth, as he holstered his bolt pistol.

"I have some hunting to attend to brother, try not to die while I am gone."

Rushing through the skies, Dyzek would reach towards his hip, pulling a Krak grenade into his grip. Once more, the beasts were too focused on the larger concentration of foes, as besides from the mob he'd thrown a grenade into, he'd had little response to his current position. As it were, he'd zero in on the oncoming Trukk bearing it's massive Scorcha against the forces of man. Dropping down upon the rear of the vehicle, Dyzek would rush forward towards the turret of the ramshackle enemy vehicle, drawing his chainsword as he moved. Locating what he sought, he'd slash out with his weapon, looking to sever the fuel line that linked the weapon and the tanks it drew upon. As he did this, he'd prime the grenade, dropping to his knee, and would bring his fist down into the hull of the trukk, punching a hole into it's rusted metal, along the tube that he'd just severed.

Depositing the explosive there, Dyzek would leap back, dropping from the roof of the vehicle, to crash down onto the ground, before turning, and launching himself into the air once more. As he did so, he'd await the sounds of explosion, anticipating the ignition of the fuel leading back to it's tanks, and the overall destruction of the trukk. As he did so, he'd open up a comm channel back towards the Imperials.

"This is Dyzek, requesting additional targets."
​

Action: Chainsword against fuel tube, Krak Grenade detonated along Trukk Fuel Line.

"Who says I'm staying?" Seth grinned back to his assault peer, switching back to squad frequency and addressing Sergeant Akar. "All part of the plan Sarge. I never intended to do anything more than to tie the big bastard, prevent him from using that burna on the rest of our assets and get him in position for you to riddle him with bullets. Deploying against the real target now."

Activating his jump pack, Seth disengaged from the big angry Ork and headed straight towards one of the Trukks. "Obeying your command," he replied to Marcus @Vlayden half-jokingly before attempting to land on top of the vehicle - hopefully where the gunner was - and blow his brains out with his pistol. If he missed, he would lunge forward and cut him apart with his chainaxe, not leaving anything to chance.

However if he was successful and the gunner dies, Seth would attempt to man the turret itself (on top of the vehicle) and start firing on the rest of the Orks and give them a little taste of their own medicine!

In mid-flight he once again opened his link to Vilhelm @Redthirst , thanking him on his support. "Good aiming back there Brother, I owe you one. I'm currently attempting to hitch a ride on one of the Trukks, be so kind and don't shoot that one!"

OOC All out attack on the gunner atop War Trakk x1 with pistol + chainaxe. If the first attack kills him second action is attempting to use the twin-linked big shootas and fire on the Ork Mob. If not, just keep on attacking the gunner until he dies.

Biting down on the grunt of pain that tries to escape his lips as the Ork Biker perforates his legs, Xerxes whispers the Iron Chant to himself as he strives to maintain focus on his battle prognostications. Fighting the Orks proves a unique challenge, the sheer chaoticism of their way of war precluding the formation of clear pivots upon which the tide of battle can be swung.

One problem at a time, then. Iron Within, Iron Without.

"Switching target to final Ork Biker," he broadcasts across the squad vox.

Rolling over to take a low kneeling position in his foxhole, he draws a bead on the speeding biker, peering down his bolter scope while his mind dives into the shallow depths of the near-Warp to see the branching paths of the immediate future and forestall the greenskin's evasive riding.

Inhale. Exhale two-thirds and hold. Squeeze. Exhale. Watch shotfall.

With that marksman's mantra, he carefully squeezes his bolter trigger, sending a three-round burst at the biker's centre-mass, ready at any time to throw himself flat should an attack come his way.

[Balanced Attack: 1 Attack on Biker, 1 Defence of Self.]

Had he not been a spacemarine, Grunvil would proberbly have been slightly amazed by the acrobatic luck that befell the ork, its bike held despite absorbing most of the blast yield, the shrapnel had not killed it, and somehow it was still going unhindered despite going flying, and now having set its ire on him.
Despite this, he overheard that the witch kin was targeting it, and it would be better if he quickly put it out of its miserable existence than wasting another missile on it.
though keeping the ork in mind, Grunvil instead focused more on taking out one of the wartrakks, as he loaded in a krak missile, and aimed for the one their assault wherent also attacking, the armour killer should put the ramshacle vehicle out for now. "Blasting wartrakk"
(one defence on self, and one attack with krak on wartrakk)

The engagement’s intensity swelled as Seventh squad drew in more orks eager to get to grips with some real foes. Footslogging troops were being chewed apart by their emplacements and auxiliary, yet they didn’t falter in the charge and continued to gain ground further and further up the trenches, making it into the middle ground where their line legionnaires were dug in. Finding itself bereft of close combat targets in the wake of Seth roaring off with his jump pack. Marcus was keen to pick out the suddenly exposed warrior, several mass reactive rounds plunging into leathery hide and the densely packed flesh beneath. Ensuing blasts left the Nob bereft an arm, the ragged stump spurting alien blood across the ground. Another shot had opened up its chest revealing visceral organs beneath. Howling with rage the xeno charged and emptied every single round it had in the Line warrior’s direction. As possessed by their owner’s anger nearly every shot miraculously hit. Chest suffered several penetrating shots that were thankfully stopped by the fused bulletproof rib-plate that had once been a mere cage. Several more shots struck elsewhere and until kombi-shoota ran dry the assault didn’t relent.


Xerxes lined up his bolter and drew a bead on the war biker. While the clouds of noxious fumes being chugged out of the damaged bike’s exhaust weren’t too much an issue thanks to his abilities the erratic movements and sheer speed were giving him a damned miserable time of it. War bike bounced down into a trench, granting both ride and rider some significant cover, enough so that when the novite attempted to down his target his shots were wasted on the dirt. By the time that the biker emerged from cover it was too late for Grunvil. Iron Warrior threw himself out of the path of enemy dakka-guns, biker snarling as calloused hands tore the wheel around and re-angled himself toward Grunvil. Heavy trooper hadn’t even managed to regain his footing when the bike crashed into him, a pair of not-so-ornamental tusks mounted above the wheels penetrating his stomach. Light vehicle shuddered with such violence on impact that it suffered just as greatly as the legionnaire, worse so perhaps, falling apart and at last coming to a halt. Impact left Grunvil floored and the enraged greenskins flying into him. With a spiked pipe xeno began to beat his head in; each blow denting his helmet and smashing apart its more delicate parts. Before anyone else could react the wide maw of a plasma cannon was jammed up against the alien’s head, a deft feathering of the firing charger creating a flash of light and enough heat feedback to fry the ork. With a grunt that was silenced by his helm, Akar knocked the corpse off of Grunvil and stepped over him to continue the fight.


While all sorts of excitement happening in the backfield one might be forgiven for forgetting about the oncoming fast attack vehicles. If one wasn’t an Iron Warrior anyways. Seth and Dyzek would descend on wings of fire with the intent of taking out, or taking over, these key threats to their line before it was too late. With heavy weapons fire supporting them, surely the fourth legion could get the job done. The first of the war trakks was rent apart by paired krak missiles, Grunvil opting to fire before even bother to stand up, Vilhelm drawing a line between his launcher and the target at the same time. The orkish gunner didn’t even get to pick any targets before both shots connected and sent scrap, flame, and ample amounts of Ork bits whooshing upwards. Second such vehicle would be a bit luckier, ignorant of Seth’s descent its guns busily spat slug and flame at the legionnaires. Xerxes ducked low into his foxhole as a cloud of brass streaked overhead, and Sergeant Akar was momentarily stunned by repeated impacts that broke against his armor by the dozens.


Seth came down on the narrow edge of the platform. Metal sheeting bolted onto a rusty framework buckled and snapped under both weight and momentum, but legionnaire was moving before unstable footing might dump him to the blurred ground around them. Chain axe swept upwards and split the gunner from groin to throat, dumping both xeno and its guts over the side.


“Gibbit! GIT BACK TA DA DAKKA!” Driver seemed totally unaware of Seth, only the loss of firepower. Being a good soldier Seth followed orders and promptly turned the guns on the back of the slugga mob. Orkish accuracy ensured that even with four of his kin dropping from shots to the back, the driver couldn’t tell the difference between legionnaire and Gibbit.


“INCOMIN’ FLYBOY! BURN ‘IM!” Over on the Scorcha Dyzek was able to hear the ork at the wheel even over the cacophony of war and his own roaring jump pack. Scorcha tip tried to angle upward and catch him, however it didn’t have enough freedom on the Y-axis and instead Dyzek sailed over an arced stream of fire that merely scorched the paint from his boots. Unfortunately for his plans he just barely overshot the Scorcha and landed on the floor of the ravine. No matter, he wouldn’t miss again. Launching off to the backdrop of a mortar raining down and pulping a number of boyz that had been about to mob him the assault marine adjusted his tactics accordingly and dumped off his krak grenade on the fly; leaving it nestled in a tangled pile of fuel lines leading from the back of the Scorcha platform, to the turret itself.


Vehicle went up in a devastating chain explosion. Fist sized shards of metal and burning chunks of more structurally stable vehicle guts went flying into the cliff walls and ork horde. As the crackling of flame set in and the growl of its death passed, something worse began to roar up on them….


“Solid work Dyzek, drop in on the lines and help clean out our trenches before all the army has gotten themselves killed. “ In the trenches Herchel and Wilson were left facing down the charging mob of slugga boyz. With a furious, mutilated Nob at its head they looked to have a fight on their hands. Nob became a sudden non-issue as Vilhelm once again proved himself an impressive shot and deposited a krak missile near the bastard’s feet. Enthralled by the call of war, the slugga boyz just charged through the blood stained crater. Gunfire didn’t cease even when choppas were held aloft in eager anticipation of the charge hitting home. Bolts and flame poured in looking to soften the blow or even blunt the advance, yet only five of the battle hungry xenos were slain; and then the rest were upon them.


Throwing themselves into the trenches the boyz began to mosh, slash, stab, and chop with glee. Penal troopers were gutted and hacked apart, while the two legionnaires were quickly surrounded and separated from one another. Blades and bludgeons of all sorts were turned upon them, wounds beginning to mount as every blow deflected, parried, or countered was an opportunity for two more to sneak in. Wilson handled himself as well as he could for the situation, whirling around with his combat knife and gutting one ork before using its body as a shield to guard his back and plunge blade through a throat. Herchel on the other hand was grabbed and held in place by a trio of the enemy. A pair of arms restraining each of his own while another pulled his head back attempting to wrench off his helmet. A fourth boy came forward with a wolfish grin, holding a crude dual-buzz saw unit with both hands.


Grim as things looked for Herchel personally, things were only about to get worse for the wider engagement. Allied vehicles began to roll up in force to support them. Chimaera deployed more squads of foot troops and special weapons squads, Leman Russ battle tanks were starting to lend their own respectable firepower to the fray, and even a Predator had rolled up with its auto-cannon and heavy bolters blasting apart the enemy by a baker’s dozen. Then more Orks arrived.


At the back of the ravine currently packed with greenskins a number of heavier vehicles had lumbered up. Pulling aside they revealed that the big guns had been towed behind them. Grots quickly set about detaching the towing chains, no sooner were the trukks free did they begin to roar off to join the fray. Those heavy guns left behind began to fire not long after and explosions began to saturate the defensive perimeter. Kannons lobbed fat shells packed with everything from gunpowder to promethium on top of their heads. This was bad, but not the worst of it. Xerxes felt the great green consciousness of the Waaaaaaagh begin to swell as a battle wagon rolled up on their lines. A massive vehicle, it dwarfed their tanks and was fashioned to look like a leering greenskin skull. Its rictus grin fell apart as lower jaw slammed against the ground and out came a true ork among Orks.

“Choppa Teef! Choppa TEEF! Choppa TEEF! “Many of the greenskins began to chant, and they were answered.


“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! “ Brandishing a power klaw for a right hand and a double barreled shoota in the other the Big Boss Choppateef charged in to join the scrap with a retinue of Nobs storming in alongside. THEN IT GOT WORSE!


“WAAAAAAAAAGH!” More voices chorused the war cry than before, coming from above and….behind? Orks strapped to rockets began to rain down from the mountains above, having taken a slightly longer route in order to get the drop on the enemy. While from behind the inconspicuous wreck of a war trukk sitting near one of their bunkers revealed itself to be a series of Kommandos who had just been holding a bunch of metal plates between themselves and the Imperials! Akar responded promptly and with a coolness to his voice.

"Seth, Dyzek engage the enemy infiltrators. Line warriors relieve Herchel and intercept the enemy HQ and his squad. Heavy weapons focus on cleaning up the enemy hordes before we focus on knocking down their large targets. Now is the time for frags legionnaires. " Orders dispensed Akar dialed up the volume of his helmet's voice caster and roared aloud. "THIS LINE SHALL BE HELD WITH BLOOD AND IRON! NEITHER THE XENO NOR THE COWARD WILL FIND MERCY HERE! "

Tides of War: Seventh Squad and Imperial Army (Lead by Sergeant Akar) VS. Ork Speed Freaks (Lead by Big Boss Choppateef)
Advantage: Major Ork Advantage (Enemy Artillery firing on Imperial Lines, MORE ORKS (Stormboyz + Slugga)

Seventh Squad:
Seth: 9 Xerxes:8 Vilhelm:9 Herchel:8 Wilson:8 Marcus:8 Dyzek:10 Grunvil:7 Akar:14
Conditions: Xerxes - Possibility Shield will last 2 more rounds. (@Vulpas ) Herchel is currently being restrained by several orks. He can only perform defense actions while this is so, and will not be freed without support from his brothers (Requires two successful attacks or one critical attack) or managing to defend himself (Two defense successes or one critical defense roll). Failure to relieve Herchel will cause him to suffer a critical hit from the enemy every turn until freed. @Colapse May emote finishing off the War Trakk as a free action.

Speed Freaks:
Ork Slugga Mob: 20 Big Boss Choppateef: 22 (Power Klaw/ Boom-shoota), Nobs: 7/7/7/7, Stormboy Mob: 10 Kommandoes: 4/4/4/4/4(Burna)
Conditions:
Each round an artillery barrage will be rolled. The higher the roll, the more damage the humans suffer. The lower the roll, the more orks that get hit.

OOC: When attacking targets please include a number if they're split up into individual units. ( E.G Nob #1, Nob#3, Kommando #2)

@Colapse @Valonox @Redthirst @BruticusTheGoreHound @Draconion @Vlayden @Grall_Stonefist