Sergeant Torek inserted a fresh prometheum canister into his pyreblaster with a practiced motion. The fuel indicator dial switched to full and he lowered the weapon to check his tactical display. An enemy convoy was approaching fast, intent on disrupting the Imperial supply drop. The Salamanders needed those supplies. Weapons, ammunition, fuel and tools, all would be needed to finish the campaign and cleanse the forge city of taint. 

His warriors voxed in, one after another, a litany of names sounding in his ears as the squad confirmed readiness. 

“Forgefather,” he said, the word an acknowledgement and a question all in one. 

Vulcan He'stan rested the butt of his spear on the cracked red earth. The relic weapon, crafted by Vulkan’s own hand, exuded a presence all its own. Though he wore his helm, the Forgefather’s eyes seemed to bore into each of Torek’s squad in turn before turning his gaze on the distant enemy. 

“Brothers. Too long have these blood mad Chaos scum ravaged this city. Too long have they profaned the shrines of the Mechanicus on this world. Ready yourselves, Sons of Vulkan! Destroy them, that we may destroy their brethren utterly!” The Seeker of the Nine raised his great spear and pointed it at the for. “For Vulkan and the Emperor!” 

“For Vulkan and the Emperor!” Torek bellowed with the rest, and the Salamanders began their advance. 

 

 

 

The Salamanders saw action against World Eaters the other day. I like a nice casual game any day, and met up with a fella at the flgs to close out the month of March with a bang. It's been a while since I could play regularly, what with school and all, so it was so fun to get in a game at last. Here's a battle report, along with some 1-draft bits of fiction inspired by in-game moments (who doesn't like a bit of narrative?).

 

The lists:

I ran my usual. I describe this as a balanced-side-of-casual list. It doesn't do so well against the more competitive players in my area, but has been racking up a lot a victories against casual companions. For my Salamanders I prefer to field an army that'll win a decent number of games, but specific unit choices are generally limited by collection size, what grabs my eye, and which units I had the most fun building/painting or just want to show off

 

My opponent ran a cool Berzerker-heavy list with tons of melee (Blood for the Blood God!) and some big 'ol melee monsters. I'd never faced a Maulerfiend before. It's a cool model and pretty scary fighter! List's from memory so hopefully right...

 

The mission was Supply Drop. Objectives were gonna disappear, first the one on my left at the top of BR4, then the center objective in BR5. I got lucky as I deployed mostly on the right. 

 

I had first turn. We were both really cautious in BR1, mostly moving up only a little. My Vindi blew up the spawn, who'd moved out in their scout move, and my Repulsor took a pot shot at some Eightbound, managing to kill 2. The remaining 1 moved to control the bottom objective (my left flank) though he was, alas, never to score on that one. 

 

End of BR1

 

 

 

A scream of bending metal reverberated through the hold as the transport halted abruptly. Sergeant Amfell was slammed against his restraints, snarling as he activated his commbead. 

“Eksor, what was that?” he hissed. Already the Land Raider’s hull was booming with the sound of impacts. 

The vehicle's pilot replied. “They've charged us! The cursed fools! Mountainfire is disabled and Brother Umaroth is not showing on my tactical display.”

“What's on us now?” Around him, Amfell's squad was preparing to disembark, readying chainswords and heavy bolt pistols. 

Eksor sounded incredulous. “The cursed Daemon. Maulerfiend. There's a Helbrute out there too. Targeting now.” The smell of cordite and blazing prometheum filtered in through a gap somewhere in the hull as the Land Raider's flamestorm cannons discharged. 

“We're disembarking,” Amfell said, exchanging a look with Chaplain Ur’Venn. 

“Good luck, brother.” The pilot’s voice sounded strained now, Amfell wondered if he'd been wounded in the initial clash. 

Exit ports thumped open on the transport’s side and rear, revealing a cratered street, the Helbrute’s burning corpse, and a mob of screaming heretic Astartes charging toward them. The Chaplain led the way, chanting a litany of purgation, and Amfell followed, howling his challenge to the traitors ahead. 

 

 

 

BR2-3 saw some more action. Adrax & his Bladeguard took the bottom objective and slew the lone Eightbound while across the field, my Vindicator took out another unit of the same. In the center, my Land Raider kept its load of marines & set up on the center objective. But in a massive flank attack, the Lord "Avocado" & his minions landed in my rear and took out the Repulsor, who's wreck claimed an Infernus Marine. RIP brother. And at the same time, the Maulerfiend made for the center, the Helbrute barely pushing through the Land Raider's overwatch attack to join in the melee. 

 

Berserkers in the Backfield!

World Eaters strike!

 

Vulkan & co. managed to drive off the Maulerfiend while my Assault Intercessors took care of the rest, but wave of Eightbound and a Rhino kept melee going for a while. Meanwhile Khârn led his band to the center to take on the rest of my army, finally falling to the flames in the final turn of the game, BR5. At that point it was just him, a couple Eightbound, and a Rhino. I removed most of what remained in shooting and then sent the Vindi in to tank shock. Because bulldozer tank. 

 

The Imperial Forces consolidate their gains (BR4)

World Eaters perform a final charge

A hasty shot of Khârn battling the Salamanders Commanders

Kind of a bummer this one turned out so blurry. I kind of just slipped my phone down into a gap to capture a quick shot. Must've messed up the focus a bit. Still, a very cinematic moment in-game. 3 wounded heroes, their bodyguards slain, meet in battle in the eye of the storm. Khârn rose again to take down Adrax in epic slaughter, the Spear of Vulkan still embedded in his side... then I treacherously crisped him with a nearby blob of pyreblaster-wielders. Sorry Khorne...

 

Final score 50-21. It was a super fun game and a great victory. I did feel a little bad though - he never scored on primary. It's just that what the Vindicator looks at, dies, and overall I think my go-to list is just really well attuned to World Eaters. Nevertheless, we both had a good time chatting Warhammer, throwing dice, and discussing some of the other games we're getting into of late.  Very nice way to close out March & get some gaming in before school starts again. 

 

And so I leave you with a last piece, inspired by the moment Kareldek's Inceptors dropped into the rear and blew away a pack of Jakhals. 

 

Zharni crouched beneath the ruined shell of a building. Beyond its cracked and pockmarked walls, bolters boomed and engines rumbled. Around him, Zharni's compatriots lurked. There, Tek, clutching his rough-hewn blade. There, Olg, pacing and showing bloody teeth to anyone who looked his way. There, Anja, peering through the haze as though to see the blood being spilled scant dozens of meters away. The rest occupied themselves similarly, each engrossed in their own little rituals, staring at nothing and twitching at every sound. 

They could not join this fight. The red Giants said to hold this building, and this building they must hold. When a Red One told you to do something you did it, or your blood would paint his axe before you could cry “Blood for the Blood God.” 

“Shut up, Zharni,” one of the others grunted. 

He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud. Zharni made an effort to calm himself. It was hard. The fighting was so close he could hear it, and he swore he could smell fresh blood in the air. 

But yes! The sounds of battle were getting closer. Perhaps Zharni would be able to fight today after all. He could hear the sound of blade on armor, the sound of fist on flesh. He could hear the screams of the enemy, and the warcry of the red Giants. “Blood for the Blood God.” 

“Shut up, Zharni.” 

He ignored the comment. He listened to the battle. He could hear the buzzing of chainblades, the roar of powerful beasts. He could hear- what was that? 

Zharni looked up as a keening noise cut through the battlefield clamor. Bulky shapes dropped from the sky spitting fire. Around him, Zharni's companions burst apart in sprays of gore, painting the rubble a beautiful, beautiful crimson. 

His eyes widened as the falling shapes landed with earth-shattering force, resolving into green-armored figures like the red warriors who commanded Zharni and brought him the blood. But something was off about them. These warriors bore none of the trappings of the Red Ones. Their armor was smooth, its plate unadorned save for numerals and markings like twisting flames. Zharni screamed his hate and charged toward the imposters, whipping the blades attached to his arms through the air in his eagerness to take their skulls. Their firing continued unabated. He felt his midsection come apart and he arced through the air as if in slow motion, slamming to the ground with a dizzying shock. At the edge of vision, the green-armored figures bounded away on plumes of flame, spitting death at a new target. Zharni was denied his prey. 

Yet he smiled. For Zharni could still hear the sounds of battle. He could hear the screams of the wounded, the moans of the dying. He could hear the boom of bolter and the whistle of spinning blade. He could hear the patter of his own blood falling to the earth beneath him, a sweet music, a worthy sacrifice. And above it all, Zharni began to perceive a new sound, the laughter of a thirsting god.