EVENT - The Great Crusade

[bluntblade]

Starting to wonder if I should've put Koloss in here instead, but oh well. Here's the Scions and Iron Bears on Laeran. Plenty of it.

 

+++++

 

“You should be grateful, you know,” Solomon Grimm said as the officers and remembrancers followed their Primarch to the hangar. “The launch was put back three hours. Lord Daer'dd granted you a little more sleep.”

 

“Why?” asked Ellan.

 

Achille Nibaasiniiwi grunted. “Showmanship.”

 

“Come now, Achille,” Daer'dd laughed. “They are here to witness the wonders of the galaxy, are they not? Surely you couldn't begrudge them a sight as fine as this?” The Second Chief said nothing, marching in sullen silence.

 

Through the shields, Laeran hung in the void. The fleet sat in a geostationary orbit, and right now the oceans and vast atolls were obscured by darkness. The pictographers among the party snapped away. Around them Astartes assembled for the drop; fresh reinforcements and the second Wartribe, who had endured a brutal fight the previous week and been sent to recuperate and resupply in orbit. They had been cut off and surrounded for an entire day until Odyssalas of the Scions Hospitaller had broken through to reinforce his them, fighting for several hours after that until the atoll was secure. Nibaasiniiwi had lost many brave men and burned with the desire to avenge them.

 

Transports were readied, oaths of moment sworn. Nibaasiniiwi had his heard by Grimm and Daer'dd himself. Another perfect moment. Ellan suspected that these proceedings were being subtly orchestrated by the Primarch to give the remembrancers plenty of such opportunities. How much it was for their sake, and how much for the legion’s, she wasn't quite sure. She was still getting used to the Primarch's company, and doubted she would ever presume to know his mind.

 

The ships dropped away from the Dragon of Autumn, coming around in a wide arc to pass by the great ship, then soaring on past the fleet of the Scions Hospitaller with their distinctive Trireme-pattern warships. A few minutes’ flight, and they knew exactly what Daer'dd had wanted to show them.

 

“Sunrises are a particular vice of mine,” he told Ellan, grinning broadly. And this one was perfect. The sunlight bathed the planet’s surface, glimmering on the seas and catching the atolls that dotted them. One by one the Imperium was taking those floating structures, putting them of alien taint.

 

The atoll where they set down was a hive of activity. Clusters of anti-air batteries loomed over ranks of aircraft, while troops, Mechanicus engineers and hundreds more swarmed throughout the base. Several kilometres distant, more atolls were visible, smaller but almost as busy, and aircraft thronged the spaces in between. Laeran had been a long, hard war and now the stage was being set for a final push to break the xeno occupiers.

 

Upon landing Daer'dd set off for the edge of the atoll, motioning his retinue to follow and acknowledging salutes and hails as he went. “The Scions have been busy down in the depths,” he said. “But we'll have to work in tandem again today, so now they come back to us.”

 

As if on cue, dark shapes appeared in the water, rising to emerge as Stormbirds, albeit strangely modified ones. Phaeton-pattern, Elan realised. A hatch opened on the lead craft and a towering figure emerged.

 

He was clad in austere white armour trimmed with metallic red, very much at odds with Daer'dd’s beautifully wrought plate. Strange devices sprouted from his vambraces and he lacked the power pack typical of Imperial armour. His helm was strangely impersonal, fronted by a blank sheet of obsidian. Mag-locked to his back was an ornate trident, oddly out of place next to his accoutrements. Daer'dd's handiwork, Ellan realised; finer than anything she had seen him craft, it was a weapon forged for a Primarch. Although this man did not match Daer'dd's size, there was no mistaking him for anything else.

 

The vessel left the water and rose smoothly to float at eye level with the group on the atoll. The figure pulled his helmet free, and the sense of inhumanity was gone. “Brother!” called Pionus Santor. “Nice to have you join us.”

 

-----

 

Clinical was the word she decided on for the master of the XIX Legion. Everything about him spoke of efficiency; his armour was streamlined and smoothed down where Daer'dd's was ornate, and while the Bear was all expansive gestures and loud speech, Pionus spoke quietly and avoided any unnecessary movements. He was not unfriendly, merely businesslike. Following that clinical analogy she decided that where Daer'dd was some great weapon of war, Pionus was a surgeon's blade.

 

Certainly he wasted no time appraising Daer'dd of the situation. “The Laer have pulled almost all their forces back to this atoll. Their suboceanic fleet surrounds it so, given the concentration of air power and defensive weaponry, we will need to engage them on all fronts. There is a possibility that they may go on the-” he broke off as a communications officer in Scions livery approached.

 

“They're on the move, lord. Our eyes in orbit report fleets from five atolls and trench Acheron. They'll be on us within the hour."

 

“Thank you Patroclus. Inform the officers, I'll issue orders in five minutes.” Pionus turned to Daer'dd. “Well, I should mention Captain Odyssalas’ scheme.”

 

A marine in Depthstrider plate stepped forward, inclining his head to the Primarchs and Nibaasiniiwi. “The Laer have spread themselves thinly with this attack, but if we go for their strongholds with a large force they'll see our intention. What I propose is that a small unit, as little as a company, take a few Phaetons and hijack one of the Laer vessels. We've found that they're hybrids,” he explained, directing his words to the Bears. “Capable of functioning in the sea and atmosphere. With a few Librarians we can force the pilots to crash one into an atoll before the Laer understand what's happening.”

 

“Then you hold them until we've shot their vanguard to pieces, giving us a beachhead” grinned Daer'dd. “Pionus, I like the way your man thinks!”

 

Pionus nodded, but his frown didn't shift. “We will have to remain here, brother. They'll need to see us if the ruse is to work. However, Odyssalas wants a detachment of your men to help secure the landing site. Can you offer any?”

 

Nibaasiniiwi stepped forward. “If I may, my lord? I pledge myself, my command squad and Terminator units, plus a score of the Totem Guard with my Primarch's permission” looking to his Primarch, whose smile only widened.

 

“It's done.” He turned to Odyssalas. “You'll conceal the sortie within a counter-attack, yes?”

 

“That was the plan. After that, the defence can proceed however you wish.”

 

“Begin preparations, Captains.” Pionus turned his glacial eyes on the remembrancers. “Daer'dd, your scribes might be about to witness the Great Crusade rather more closely than they'd hoped.”

 

+++++

 

The Laer attack was terrifying, but at the same time it was beautiful to see the Astartes in battle and the flawless leadership of the Primarchs. But that was nothing to the combat which erupted when the xenos made landfall. The great swarms were too many for the turrets to wipe out, and so it fell to our soldiers to destroy them with guns, blades and hammers.

 

At the heart of the fighting were Daer'dd and Pionus. The Bear anchored the battle, inexorable, carving great gouges in the attackers’ formations. Pionus moved constantly around him. Some would liken it to a dance, but it was too mechanical for that. He was like a Narthecium, all precision, slipping into place to remove any threats that evaded Daer'dd's huge, sweeping strokes. Indeed, he reaped many lives with his Narthecium apparatus, which flicked out at will to puncture eyes and slit throats.

 

Above them fighters mingled in the skies, debris raining down on the sea even as submersibles contested the waters around the atoll.

 

I don't know how long it went on for. I recall little detail apart from seizing a lasgun when some of the creatures threatened us and wounding one before a group of Janizars brought it down. But the overall impression of the Primarchs’ might and prowess remains indelible. So different, but so flawless fighting in unison.

 

I do know that the battle ended when Pionus called in several squadrons of fighters and bombers from orbit. They fell upon the Laer craft, catching them between multiple fields of fire. Within minutes the enemy fleet was destroyed and communications came from Odyssalas’ men.

 

The final Laer stronghold was ours for the taking.

 

Ellan Temeter, In the Bear's Footsteps

 

+++++

 

The Stormbirds banked sharply, unnoticed amid the flurry of ships and fire. “Fifteen seconds!” barked Odyssalas’ as they flew clear of the battle. “Cousins, brace yourselves!”

 

One after the other, the vessels plunged into the water. They went deep, vanishing into the gloom. It was a strange sensation, travelling blind and relying on sensors instead, but Achille Nibaasiniiwi was reassured by how the Scions’ pilots took it in their stride. He glanced over Odyssalas’ shoulder. The Captain had selected a large Laer transport vessel as their target.

 

“So we eject here and here, and the Terminators force breaches. Those won't destabilise the ship too much?” It was easier to keep a lid on his choler if he focused on the particulars of the mission.

 

“Not as long as we move quickly. Speaking of which,” he added, “all Astartes, double-check your seals and get into the airlocks.” He clapped Nibaasiniiwi on the shoulder. “Don't worry, friend. We'll avenge your losses soon enough.”

 

Fully sealed armour would withstand the water pressure for a few minutes, but only the Depthstriders’ plate would survive a prolonged submersion. Fortunately, if there was one thing Terminators were made for, it was breaching and boarding. The lead Stormbirds loosed their payload of Pyre Guard, who, directed to the weak points by Depthstriders, immediately tore into the plating with power claws and chainfists. The other craft circled the Last ship, taking out gun emplacements while their comrades worked.

 

“We've broken through, starboard bow!” came the message from a Depthstrider.

 

“Ready yourselves,” growled Odyssalas, bracing himself.

 

It was like a hammer blow. The pressure blast launched them out into the water shooting towards the breach, where the Terminators had forced the airlocks open the Depthstriders used grav-repulsers to hold back the water as best they could. The rest of the units followed, aiming for different breaches. Once within, they would fight their way to the bridge and take over the craft.

 

The presence of the Librarians was a great help as they moved through the corridors, tearing through the aliens. The narrow passages were constructed for serpentine creatures, and often made close-quarters fighting difficult. Nibaasiniiwi darted through the mêlée, claws spilling yellow blood with every attack. He eschewed the bulk of Terminator armour and while that cost him some protection, it also allowed him to move and kill freely.

 

Beside him, Odyssalas’ glaive claimed dozens of alien lives. The last fight they shared had been tainted with desperation and the bitterness of lost friends. This, however, was a good fight. Straight into the jaws with the kind of daring that only Astartes could muster. He roared a challenge as they charged onto the bridge. As its guards were cut down, the pilot made to get up and face them, but a Depthstrider Librarian stepped forward and immobilised it. Then grimacing in disgust, he forced his way further into its mind.

 

The ship rose ponderously, the psyker fighting hard to keep the pilot under control. As more squads entered the bridge other Librarians were able to add their power to his, and the ship moved faster and more fluidly.

 

By the time that the confused shrieks began sounding over the vox, they were clear of the surface and descending towards a large gunnery emplacement. “Brace for impact!” Nibaasiniiwi bellowed.

 

The emplacement was crushed under the ship’s weight in an explosion of rubble as the vessel ploughed through structures before scraping to a halt. When the xenos went to investigate, they found the invaders and with them, their deaths. Then the atoll’s armies rallied, throwing everything they had at those who dared intrude on their territory.

 

It was a savage battle, against almost every variant of Laer they had encountered before. Nibaasiniiwi and Odyssalas fought side by side, weaving through the press of bodies to wherever the fighting was fiercest. The sky burned above them as Imperial ships bombarded the other defences from orbit, but the enemy just kept coming. For all their strength and prowess, even a Totem Guard could be brought down, and they didn't hold the line without cost.

 

But they held nonetheless, and fought with a resolve and skill that filled Nibaasiniiwi with fierce pride. Bolter fire punched craters in the coral and Odyssalas’ glaive danced, yellow blood fizzing as it met the disruptor field. Laer were blasted apart by volkite fire and eviscerated by chainblades. Others found their deaths in psychic fire and waves of grav-force that crushed them against the walls. The Iron Bears were a mighty bulwark around which the Scions moved, killing with consummate precision. Their battle cries mingled, becoming a single bellow of “for the Emperor!” as another wave came at them.

 

Winged Laer raked them with steel talons while warrior forms lashed out at them with blades lit by blue fire. Other variants attacked with piercing shrieks uttered at unbelievable volume, that hit like siege hammers. They struggled against Terminator plate, but the sheer number and speed of the creatures still made them dangerous. Those brothers armoured in mk IV were often forced to use their tank-like comrades as cover, darting out to slay their enemies before they could flank the Terminators.

 

Nibaasiniiwi saw one Totem Guard brought down by a gout of green, electrochemical fire which engulfed the warrior. Staggering backwards, the man collided with Odyssalas, knocking him off balance. A winged Laer pounced on the Scion, slicing deep gouges out of his breastplate and throwing him on his back.

 

Snarling his defiance, Nibaasiniiwi lunged forward to intercept. He backhanded the foul creature to the ground and crushed its head underfoot. A warrior form raced towards them and he sidestepped before impaling it with a crackling claw. He cast the corpse aside and stooped to help Odyssalas up.

 

“I think that makes us even,” the Scion gasped as he regained his feet. “Thanks, brother.”

 

"No problem, Aanii."

 

Even as he spoke they realised that the bombardment had ended and a new noise became audible; the sound of many engines converging on their position. Looking up, they saw the contrails of dropships homing in on their position, descending to unleash the Legions’ full fury on the stronghold. The Astartes roared in triumph as their Primarchs leapt from the lead Stormbird, and they raced into the coral city to join them.

 

+++++

 

While the best known images from the Laeran campaign depict the battles themselves, most notably Sky and Sea of Fire and Hammer and Trident, many critics cite a rather quieter scene as the finest visual work of the war. Honour Brothers depicts captains Nibaasiniiwi and Odyssalas carving the half Aquila symbol on one another's vambrace in the traditional mark of brotherhood between Astartes of different Legions. While the surroundings bear mute testament to the destructive power of the Legiones Astartes, the scene itself casts a rare light on the humanity of our defenders.

 

-Andronicus Mediza, A History of the Remembrancer Order

Edited March 17, 2016 by bluntblade

[bluntblade]

C.C. Redd gave me a character to muck around with. I've been watching too many movies lately. This was the result.

 

+++++

 

Up to now, Nux realised, he'd never seen the Shepherds truly unleashed. Here on Ibsen, fighting xenos with like-minded Legions, they were quite a sight.

 

Dozens of Iron Bears and Halcyon Wardens transports raced across the tundra. Leaving Alexandros, two Wardens Chapters and Clan Astar of the III to complete the pacification of the jungle-dwelling humans, they had set a course for the polar regions, where another Eldar force was massing.

 

Iron Bears jetbikes shot past him, with vox-twisted whoops and what sounded like howls. He turned to Khârn, confusion showing through his faceplate. “The ice wastes remind them of old comrades,” explained the captain. He chuckled, but there was sadness too as he murmured “Gunnar would have loved this war.” Nux decided not to ask any further, and went back to observing the column.

 

In Yoxer Bellows, they had one of the Iron Bears’ fiercest warriors leading the bike squads, whilst Chief Praetor Nibaasiniiwi held overall command. The Wardens and Shepherds had happily deferred to the VI Legion's superior tech and experience using it.

 

Besides rhinos, bikes and speeders, they also fielded the mashkode. Huge vehicles, heavily armoured and bristling with guns, they formed the formation's backbone. Unusually for the Bears, they were fitted with tracks and wheels, carving great tracks through the snow. They could serve either as mobile gun platforms for sieges, or shatter armies in open warfare.

 

Now they went forth to destroy the Eldar occupiers and the beasts that served them.

 

-----

 

Thirty-four years as a Shepherd of Eden had changed Nux Pyrruk. Along with six other disgraced Berserkers, he had found a brotherhood which better fitted his humours. No longer did they force themselves to match the brutal temper of their Primarch, and when they fought it was with true conviction. They were broken knives made swords in the Emperor’s service, resplendent in bone-white and muted gold.

 

Now, mag-locked to the side of a mashkode, his hearts raced in anticipation of the battle. They were in sight now, the xenos that sought to twist the people of this world to some alien purpose. As with their fellows in the forests, they were curiously primitive; rather than the lethal technology he had seen them wield on other worlds, these made weapons of the native creatures. Spear-carriers, hundreds, rode savage beasts like the snow hyenas of primordial, ice-bound Terra. Others- psykers, he guessed- sat astride great mastodons of shaggy fur.

 

Bellows shot ahead, leading the various bike squads and needling the Eldar force with fire, the captain swinging low to take heads with one of his axes. The bikes swung up and flew clear of the fight in a classic VI Legion manoeuvre, regrouping for another run, but the Eldar’s rifles and warp-sorcery had taken a toll. Here and there, Astartes tumbled from the saddle or were hurled into the air as warp-lightning blew their bikes apart.

 

Then the mashkode and rhinos opened fire, and the ground the Eldar stood on was rent by shells and las-fire. Several of the shaggy behemoths fell beneath the onslaught, and the Eldar scattered as the convoy charged into their midst. Nux raised his bolter and fired, killing two Eldar as the Astartes around him did the same. Blood was already staining the snow around them.

 

But then he heard Captain Tannhäuser of the Wardens bellowing over the vox. “Spread out!” One of the Wardens must have sensed something amiss. Something's coming.

 

-----

 

The vehicles scattered as the something huge emerged from the snow. It was like a great eel, twenty metres long at least and covered in blue-white scales. Atop its head perched an Eldar. Then it was moving, the vast tail lashing out at the nearest mashkode and crumpling the armour plate. Another was torn open by its jaws. Several rhinos were thrown across the ice, Astartes tumbling from them and sprinting to find what cover they could.

 

But now the Eldar brought their vicious mounts around and ran them down. The marines on the ground fought bravely, but several died messy deaths under the jaws of the monsters and the aliens' spears as they fell back to the remains of their vehicles. The other vehicles made to retrieve them, but were driven back by the serpent and mastodons.

 

Nibaasiniiwi was pulling the formation back together, bellowing orders over the vox.

 

“We can't leave our brothers in that mess!” Khârn shouted, as a mastodon overturned two rhinos.

 

“Picking them up will just expose us again!” snapped Tannhäuser.

 

“Then we bail!” Nux replied. “Captain Khârn-" Khârn shot him a look, but nodded "-myself and my squad, and any other man not driving or manning a gun.”

 

Sergeant Cato regarded him through his eye slits. “I thought we'd got the crazy out of you?”

 

Nux ignored him. “We loop back, run as close as we can and the infantry bail. We can do it.”

 

Nibaasiniiwi laughed. “Lieutenant, you've got guts. Let's try it!”

 

The mashkode came around with absurd speed for such huge machines, the smaller vehicles dispersing to give them room, all the while hurling fire as the Eldar tried to intercept. Nux and Khârn sprang from the vehicle's side door, their squads following. Nux rolled through the deep snow, hauling himself upright and shouldering his bolter. All around him the Astartes did the same as they raced towards the nearest downed vehicle.

 

One of the riders came at Nux and he first a burst straight into the slavering jaws. Then, hardly breaking stride, he grabbed his sword and cut down the Eldar before he could rise to attack. Looking over his shoulder, he grinned as he saw Shepherds, Wardens and Bears behind him.

 

Taken by surprise, the xenos faltered as the convoy continued hurling ordnance at them and the warriors on the ground, covered by the jetbikes, regrouped around a crippled mashkode where the beasts would struggle to reach. This was what the Shepherds were best at; precisely applied force, using the environment to their advantage.

 

Not that they'd escaped the great serpent's attention. The huge head loomed over them, the jaws opening wide. Bolter fire simply pinged off its scales and the big guns on the war machines couldn't target it effectively.

 

Then they heard the howling, and Yoxer Bellows appeared above and behind the serpent's rider. He'd taken his bike recklessly high and and was now diving. He threw himself clear and as he struck the back of the creature's head, he wedged one of his axes between two scales. The rider turned, but Bellows had already drawn his bolter, and blew its head clean off.

 

Without direction, the serpent laid waste to everything around it. The Eldar and their beasts were close and more visible than the Astartes, so they died by the dozen. Despite the huge movements of the creature under him Bellows hauled himself along its snout with his tomahawks. The serpent tried to shake him loose, but he hung on with fierce determination. When he reached the jaws he paused for just a second before swinging himself over the edge and hurling a bandolier of Krak grenade into the open mouth. Then he unhooked his axes and dropped, vanishing into the deep snow.

 

There was a loud bang. The serpent swayed, drooling blood. Then it crashed to the ground, scattering the remaining Eldar. At once, the war machines attacked, routing them, while the men on the ground set about retrieving their injured comrades.

 

Khârn went to the spot where Bellows had landed and, after half a minutes’ digging with help from the rest of his squad, pulled the Iron Bear from the snow. Bellows had several broken bones but would live to tell the tale, if not fight again for a week or so. Laughing and wrapping his good arm around Nux, he explained that they would have to share several casks of something called “mjod” once the campaign was finished.

 

Medicae units were called in via dropship, and Mechanicus elements arrived to salvage what they could from the wrecked vehicles. Updated orders were issued; the Shield Lord would meet them outside the Eldar fortress city with the rest of his forces.

 

Then the convoy moved on, rushing into the frozen night.

Edited March 17, 2016 by bluntblade

[simison]

One of these days, I need to create a list in my legion threads of all the new characters created.

[bluntblade]

I'm piecing a Dramatis Personae together for my own use. It runs to a few pages already.

[Chief Captain Redd]

After reading this I have to build a second Yoxer on a jet bike.

[Raktra]

One of these days, I need to create a list in my legion threads of all the new characters created.

Bluntblade's been added to the 'serker canon as our official remembrancer.

[bluntblade]

The Godslayers in straightforward hero mode.

 

+++++

 

Orange and green. A hideous contrast, but an appropriate one it seemed to Sergei Medvud. These, of all xenos, were creatures that Mankind could never share a galaxy with. The Ork’s only conception of other life was something it could kill, or use to make tools for more killing. Here on Altai II they had enslaved billions, turning hive cities into factories of murder.

 

Fighting them had a strange duality. On the one hand it was a hideous melee, bereft of any grace as the greenskins piled in. The marines fought simply to keep their heads above the tide. At the same time, it was gloriously pure. Their objectives were never more certain; aliens to kill, humans to rescue. Medvud’s bolter blazed away while his power fist buckled armour and pulverised bone. Either side of him his company were doing the same, scything through the greenskin ranks.

 

Ahead he could see a group of their crude “gargant” war machines trundling towards them, lobbing crude rockets at them. As often happened, he thought somehow that the wretched things travelled rather faster than their bulky frames and scrap components should allow.

 

But no matter. As a blaring war horn sounded behind him, a vast foot moved over the Godslayers’ lines to crush scores of greenskins. Then the Spiritus Ferrum levelled its guns and targeted the gargants. The Ork machines opened fire on it, but their primitive munitions had no hope against an Imperator-class Titan. Plasma blasts reduced each gargant to cinders and gouged huge craters of molten glass among the Ork ranks.

 

Then the rest of the Legio Vulcana came after it, hammering the enemy as the Godslayers poured around their feet. Tanks and Land Raiders piled in on the flanks, driving the Orks back toward their fortress-city.

 

By then however, the Dune Serpents had begun their work. Anti-aircraft guns suddenly swivelled to target the greenskin army. Some fired, others were too crude for anyone but an Ork to use- in those cases they were simply destroyed. Army and Astartes dropships began to descend into the city, turning it into the anvil on which the Godslayers would break their foe. On the battlements Medvud spotted a giant in pale purple. Azus himself, casting greenskins from the battlements. While he and Medvud’s Primarch were so dissimilar in temperament, united against such an enemy they were a lethal combination.

 

Then, refocusing, he saw another vast figure striding through their ranks, huge even in the shadow of a Titan. Brandishing his blade above his head, Koschei roared, “For the Emperor, for Mankind, death to the greenskin!” Echoing the cry with all the fervour they could summon, the Godslayers smote the alien horde once again.

[simison]

Roughly a kilometre east of the main chamber was a much smaller cave. Long and narrow, it had two entrances, much like a standard hallway but was wide enough to fit three land raiders side by side. That is were it not for the lack of a floor for half the chamber. The center of the chamber had formed into a thin walkway over a chasm due to some recent seismic activity. The pit was ninety-six metres deep, well past the point of lethality without some kind of grav device or jump pack, and Darshan could already see corpses littering the bottom, most of them in Storm Rider grey. Only two spots in the room had cover in the form of stalagmites, one group near the marines' entrance, while a second bunch sat next to the walkway on the Ork side. Behind that cover, the Orks had deployed three tanks, all converted Leman Russes, Darshan noted. From their position of cover, they rained fire on any Storm Rider assault and, with a couple of plasma cannons, rendered even breacher marines a risky prospect. The tanks were supported by several heavy weapon, or loota, squads and more storm boyz itching for a fight. 

 

9^th Company was represented by four breacher squads, a recon squad, two missile launcher support squads, and three assault squads. None of them were at full strength, and most of them were holding behind their cover or waiting in the hallway connected to the entrance. Through the west wall, Darshan sensed two more squads who were cutting through the rock, while their brothers held the Orks' attention. They would succeed, but only after a lengthy period of time. Darshan reached out to his sons and quickly located the current commanding officer: Delegatus Skarzeni. 

 

The shard of Darshan hovered next to Skarzeni, who was briefing his sergeants. "Mag!" Skarzeni barked. "Why is that yellow Nob still alive? I've had Xer's and Echeyer's squads give you cover twice now." 

 

Magnold shook his head as he reloaded his sniper rifle. "Just pure chance, Skar. One of my men had a bead on it when it punched one of the smaller ones directly into the line of fire. A half-second before, that greenskin would be breathing through a new hole in its skull."

 

"Well, it isn't, and it's still directing that loota squad," Skar groused. "You know those beasts are brutes in close combat, I want it dead long before Narcariel's squad breaks through."

 

Skarzeni.

 

With a tight discipline borne of hours of fruitful training, every Storm Rider aimed every weapon at the empty space that the shard occupied. "Identify!" Skarzeni shouted out. Although it required extra effort, Darshan could see their unsettled auras. With a moment's concentration, the shard manifested itself a ghostly copy of his physical body.

 

Stand down, lieutenant.

 

The Storm Riders bowed. Auras shifted from distrust to a mixture of bewilderment and awe, while Skarzeni's changed to a bright, embarrassed orange. "My apologies, my lord."

 

You have nothing to apologize for, Skarzeni. Your discipline is commendable. I come bearing a message: take your unit and prepare to assault in three minutes and nineteen seconds.

 

There was an uncomfortable pause as Skarzeni pictured his men dying in a futile assault as he hoped his gene-sire had a plan. Although he wanted to protest, he instead said, "As you command, my lord."  

 

Be prepared, you will have a signal at the appropriate time. 

 

Darshan's 'ghost' shimmered out of sight before the shard flew back over to the Ork lines. He hovered above the center tank for a moment before the shard split into three. The three spirits took their positions above each Ork tank. Each of them quickly saw the sham, patchwork repairs to get the vehicles operational. One Leman Russ' fuel line was severed in three places. Another's motor ran dangerously hot as flames haphazardly shot out the rear exhaust pipes. In each case, the sole reason that any of the tanks were running was because the Orks believed they were, their collective faith protecting the tanks from the consequences of their own internal damage. 

That principle worked in reverse. 

Each of the shards stealthily invaded the thoughts of the Ork crews. As the seconds passed by, Darshan introduced new thoughts. Wariness at the lack of a fight. Suspicion at the absence of the Space Marines. Concern at the unnatural rumbling of the vehicles. Little by little, Darshan chipped at their confidence and their faith. A thirty seconds before Skarzeni was to attack, Darshan judged their minds ripe for his last step. It was simple. 

He showed each Ork an image of their tank exploding. 

It lasted a second. It was all the time he needed. The ruptured fuel line caught fire which quickly spread throughout the new steel coffin. An engine exploded before secondary explosions obliterated the center tank. The last tank's turret ruptured when the loaded shell jammed on a piece of metal in the barrel. Burning Orks hopped out of the burning Russ as they screamed in agony. 

Darshan grinned. 

 

With the anchors of the Ork lines annihilated, panic spread through the ranks. Nobz roared out questions as their underlings swiveled in every direction, searching for what destroyed their heavy support. The three shards merged back into one before it floated over to the nearest loota squad. It had been too close to one of the tanks and had lost a few Orks to shrapnel. Out of the all remaining Orks, this mob burned the brightest hue of panicky orange. To them, Darshan whispered a single word into their fearful minds. Ghost. 

"THIS PLACE IZ HAUNTED!" One of the Orks bellowed before lumbering away in fear. 

The nearby Nob shouted, "Gitz backs here! There's no such t'ing as ghosts!" 

"We can't fightz no ghosts with just dakka," another Ork whispered fearfully. 

"OI!" The Nob roared as he whirled onto the offending Ork. "Wha' did I just say? Dere's. No. Such. T'ing. As. GHOSTS!" 

Darshan couldn't resist indulging himself. His spirit took a spot behind the Nob. Slowly, he appeared as a shining orb of energy, hovering above the ground. As he manifested, one by one, the Lootas noticed him and cowered, their ammo rattling as they shuddered with terror. 

Ignorant of the glowing light behind him, the Nob swung his eyes over them. "What'cha all lookin' at?" 

The nearest Ork pointed a shaking finger. 

The Nob turned around. 

He froze. 

Mentally guffawing, Darshan enjoyed a dramatic pause before he said... 

"Boo." 

The Nob stampeded over his own boyz as he screamed, the lootas right behind him as they fled the cave. 

 

 

[Though the thread could use a post this month, and I was really amused by this scene. Best part, it fits both canon and BotL universe quite easily and shows Alex's mischievous side.]

Edited June 10, 2016 by simison

[Nomus Sardauk]

Lol, Alexandros the Trollmaster. :D

[Sigismund229]

Not quite sure where to post this

 

The Beacons

In the late Great Crusade, as the Imperium expanded its borders further and further from Terra, the Navigator Houses and Astropaths began to report the weakening of the Astronomicon on the Imperium's fringes. It began to take Expeditionary Fleets increasing amounts of time to find their way through the vagaries of the warp to their next targets and so the Warmaster turned to the Adeptus Mechanicus and Pyschic colleges to and ordered them to turn their resources to the task of finding a way of extending the Astronomicon's reach. While it took nearly a decade and the discovery of several new pieces of technology, the solution that these two bodies eventually presented to the Warmaster was that of the beacons. Through arcane technology whose basics were barely understood, the beacons would amplify the light of the Astronomicon and send it shining ever further outwards into the fringes of the galaxy.

 

The Warmaster immediately ordered that a host of these new machines be built across the Imperium. While their comstruction was a complex process and each required the constant ministrations of a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus and a choir of pyskers to help guide the amplified light of the Astronomicon created by the machine, eventually just over five hundred were built across the Imperium, mainly on its fringes in order to guide the Expeditionary Fleets of the Great Crusade.

 

However, despite the Imperium's reliance on them, the beacons were still mysterious machines that the Mechancus only understood the barest essentials of the workings of. Because of this, they were a cause of great study by the Adepts of Mars and over the five years before the Insurrection began, dozens of treatises were written by Adepts on their workings and compiled within the tech libraries of Mars. However, much of this knowledge would subsequently be lost, either destroyed accidentaly or delibirately, during the vicious civil war that wracked Mars during the Insurrection.

[simison]

Maybe a red box in Insurrection. Or focused during a campaign in Corruption.

Edited August 26, 2016 by simison

[simison]

Reading through the Thousand Sons cults, it occurs to me that I don't think FW or GW has exactly outlined what the 30k Librarius program looked like. We know that by the time of 40k, there are established titles and duties for the various librarians from the Acolytum to the Chief Librarian. But what about from the get go? Throughout the Horus Heresy, I've heard or seen nothing about Lexicanums, Codiciers, etc. 

 

Now throw in the fact that the two BotL designers for the Librarius program are Icarion and Alexandros as opposed to the team of Magnus, Khan, and Sanguinius, and I'm really curious about the differences between the two programs. Keep in mind, this won't affect the rules portion. 

 

Note 2: Between the two Primarchs, the general training of Librarians would be slanted more towards self-control. Both of them would rather a Librarian be able to control the flow of the Warp flowing through them rather than unleash it in a spectacular display of power. 

 

As such, one consequence of this training philosophy is that fewer Librarians would be higher in power compared to their canon counterparts. The trade-off is that there are fewer incidents with the Librarians. To bring this about, the Librarius program begins with a series of lessons and tests with the explicit purpose of developing willpower. Generally speaking, they are divided in two directions. For candidates who are too brash or revel in their power, trials will focus more on asceticism, self-denial, and humility. For candidates who are timid or fear their own power, exercises focus on building confidence and becoming more familiar with their limits.

 

Given how rare Librarians are, training is typically done in master-apprentice fashion. Sometimes a master will take one two apprentices. Very rarely will that number be higher. 

Edited April 13, 2017 by simison

[simison]

After a decade of being in control, another incident arose between the Warmaster and the High Lords of Terra when the Warmaster sought to create an academy for administrators. Although claiming that it was necessary in prosecuting the Great Crusade, the Council of Terra declared that Alexandros was over-stepping his boundaries as Warmaster. This legal battle ended up pulling the Warmaster from the front lines of the Great Crusade and would last an entire year before the academy was allowed to come into being.

[bluntblade]

Adding some Wiki links for key campaigns:

 

- First through Fourth Rangdan Xenocides

- The Purge of the Mothran Abyss

- Vremalkyr Incursions

- Qarith Crusade

- Koloss Syntheticide

Edited December 8, 2019 by bluntblade

[bluntblade]

Gonna try and use this thread to track/profile some more important campaigns. Including:

 

The Doljen Conquest

This will be fought by the Warbringers, Godslayers and Warriors of Peace (plus one other?) and various Mechanicum and Auxilia forces over the Doljen Sector somewhere in the Galactic East/Southeast. We have ideas for some component battles, particularly if there is a psychic element to the enemy. Beren's keen to have one engagement involving orbital plates.