[WIP] Sons of Horus, 65th Company

[Vykes]

Thanks Astartes Consul, mate.  You know, the recon squad has got to be one of my favourites.  They aren't as modular and flexible as I'm used to, but I still really like the look and didn't have to do much cleanup beyond the usual scrub and rinse.   

 

It was pretty easy to work with, just two sniper rifles needed a bit of resin bending to reshape the barrels (the shotguns were totally good to go), and there was a minor defect on one backpack bretween the tube-ey bits and the cowling where it filled in but it wasn't much more than flash. It didn't take too long at all, and I didn't notice bubbling anywhere else either which was a bit of a surprise as so much of the models are full bodies.  But they were a lot of fun to work with and I definitely recommend 'em for some small squads.  They look like they could run the risk of looking 'samey' if you get more than 20 or so because of the way the arms are positioned are essentially locked.  

 

-laughs- Iiii'm gonna neeed to do another full army shot when I set up a second table.  The army is just a little bit big for one 6X4. 

[Stofficus]

All glorious stuff; your work here is one the reasons I chose to double-down on getting my Legion up to snuff, rather than my traditional scatter-project. 

 

The bin of ~120 Mk 3 marines is still taunting me from my spare bedroom though...

[Vykes]

Hah, awesome to hear, Stofficus mah brother, dude!  Those Mk.III always look awesome, and I do know how ya feel.  I'm gonna be getting a bin full of those glorious mk. IV soon enough, and apparently there's some mk. II hiding in some packages that I'm snooping my weasely nose for*.  There's few things more glorious than a fully fleshed out legion project with a bunch of infantry.  

 

 

*Being a painter, I get to do painting favours for first crack at some stuff I was too late on the draw for that others were too scared to do themselves.  Of all the bin drawers in all the spare rooms in the world, there's some pretty good stuff hidin' round here in my town, see? -taps the unlit cigar and pops the collar of a trenchcoat to make it all hipster film noire-

[+Grimdark Prince Adam+]

Dammit Vykes, that group photo of your forces rocks my (and everyone elses, I suppose) socks! I still haven't got time to read everything, but I'm really impressed with your work, keep it up!

[Hungry Nostraman Lizard]

Your thread is fantastic, your Company is brilliant, but your choice of music is what solidified my view of you as an absolutely lovely person. 

[Vykes]

Thanks mates, Grimdark Prince Adam, Hungry Nostraman Lizard, that's awesome praising as you two have some seriously rich stuff goin' on! -laughs- I do try for the music too, though my tastes get pretty diverse and pretty weeeeird at times as my shuffle play lists often attest (Still, that song is basically stuck in my head when I do work on the Warmaster's lot.)

Well, not a ton of painted progress yet, but I am working on a suggestion that I believe frater Gorgoff suggested a while back in I think the Iron Warrior thread. So there should be some progress of that pretty quick as I draw up a drop company list for a future expansion (if I can tear myself away from ogling some White Scars concepts). But I did finish a few other things on the painting front while toying with a few simple online filters that make me grin. So, hey, why not toss 'em up here too.

[Vykes]

Well, I officially joined the 12 month hobby challenge and I guess the 65th will be expanding juuust a bit more. I'm hoping to contribute at least 1 new unit a month to it. And while I don't do a lot of WIP's here, I'll toss 'em in.

Now, Contemptor-Cortus, I love the idea of them and didn't have an idea of how to represent them well for a veeeery long time. I got one to start, but now I'm thinking about 2 of them. Whatcha all think?

[Dreagher]

It will definitly be easy to tell them appart from the normal ones, which is always great. The IW dreadnoughts torso has a nice tucked together feeling, as if there wasn't as much time during its production.

In which direction do you plan on having it face on the base?

[Pearson73]

That's a nice pose on the Cortus and the base looks good too.

 

Personally, I really dislike the Iron Warriors Contemptor chassis, which makes it hard for me to judge this objectively! I think it would be nice to see some exposed cabling, or bionics; it's something I've seen on a few Cortus conversions and it seems to work well to me and indicates their more haphazard nature.

[Vykes]

Thanks to the balancing it does look like a tip-toeing up the steps... I'm not unseeing a 'stealthy' Cortus, and now I kinda want to make a sneaky Raven Guard dread.

Aaanyway, yeah I figured I need some way to really mark them apart as I'm planning to add a few more Dreads to the 65th in time (at least 1 more Contemptor Prime). Righto, got a liiiittle bit of a preview for the base, and I got a little work done on the Cortus too.

Aye Pearson, I'm not a massive fan of a few contemptors, and the Iron Warriors one originally looked a little too haphazard to me, but for the purposes of a Cortus is suddenly seemed like a good idea.

[Hungry Nostraman Lizard]

I'm not super keen on the pose, but I'm looking forward to your paint scheme on it!

[Vykes]

Well, I had a bit of time. Heh, I still suck at posing contemptors, but it'll do till I get another one.

+++

Cortus-Contemptor Akrodyne the Lost... and Bishop said the A2's were twitchy

The dull snaps of bolt fire echo from the thin concrete walls and bounce down the abandoned alleyway. Long dead shadows flash-burned into the stone stand eternal vigil over the piles of bone and mouldering scraps of cloth littering the narrow passageway. At the mouth of the alleyway a pair of burning ruby eyes peered into the gloom. Slowly, the shrouded giant gestures down the alleyway, an airy and utterly silent motion.

A whirring buzz of power armour was far harder to ignore, and half a score of warriors in verdigris plate slip by in a loping battle stride broke the illusion of silence. Bone and crumbled masonry turn to dust under the armoured tread of the legionnaires in their headlong rush down the cramped passageway. They hurry towards the yawning mouth of the ancillary road just beyond the derelict alleyway loading dock. It spilled onto the roadway, but was overlooked by the leering sockets of the ruined eight story hab-block across the strip. Most of the top half had crumbled back in on itself leaving a jagged line like broken teeth.

Distant thumps from airstrikes meld with the plodding whine of something further up the strip, and the sudden scrape of metal on stone. The momentary glint of adamantine winks from across the strip, there wasn't even the span of a breath to shout a warning. The thunderous roar of heavy mass reactive round blots out the ambient warzone, replacing it with the belch of fire and screaming howl of rounds skipping off rockrete as they ricochet and detonate in the narrow alley.

The lead legionnaire is struck by a veritable wave of shells from the unseen assailant, spattering molten adamantine and flecks of ceramite across the wall. More walked their way up his torso until it bites through the power cables and tears into his guts, dragging him down with a crack that burst the eye of his helm. He's shoved forward by the legionnaire behind him, in the narrow confines of the alley only a single astartes can pass with ease.

“Combat squad Absalom, requesting immediate close-in support!” Corporal Kanthrus snarls into the vox net, the ciphers having been broken well before any battle had begun.

A second astartes, Tanns Loromon, is struck high in the chest and stumbles.

'Copy that, Akrodyne alerted. Stand by.'

Trooper Gnoss drags him to his feet, bracing his own bolter against Loromon's shoulder and blazing at the mostly concealed gun team. Smaller Tigrus bolts trace zig-zag trail up into the stonework, pitting the spongy facade around the window or screeching just wide of the gun. Heavier bolts nearly twice its size thunder down like meteors, fragmenting rounds throwing monochromatic flashes in the gloom.

“Covering fire!”

Vroken's lethargic cringe was almost palpable through the vox net. Bolters already chattered their insane choir as the combat squad falters; half streaming forward to get to grips with the machine-gun nest, the other half halting to fire and retreat back up the mouth of the alley. Shadows flit between the columns, more figures only half-glimpsed.

Rassik pulls the grenade from his harness as a round finds the soft flex-steel of his arm. From elbow down, the limb drops dead to the ground, grenade rolling from dead fingers. A sickly geyser of powdered bone and ceramite splinters throws Rassik, Gnoss, and Loromon into the wall.

The smoke and debris hangs thick in the air, Kanthrus' prey senses still show the heat bloom and estimated outline of their assailant as the heavy bolter continued to spew shots into the cramped confines. A sudden blob seemed to spasmodically weave back and forth behind the wall. With a blink click, Kanthrus crouches and presses himself against the wall as his armour dulls the thump of weapons discharge and scrape of boots. He narrows his eyes in concentration: ah, there it is. The sound is a low but building whine, a keening note and pounding grind of servoes. Automantic reactors could make a hell of a distinctive din. The tremor of a fifteen tonne monsters made it all the worst.

With a blaring roar, the rockrete wall five paces in front of him exploded outwards in torso sized chunks. Green illum lights stream through the gloom as a massive clawed fist pulls even more ruined stonework back through the massive breach. And for just a moment, the heavy bolter falls silent.

“WHERE ARE THEY!?”

The bellow churns the dust cloud into spiralling tendrils as an enormous upper body smashes into the gouge in the building, letting the skeletal face swing back and forth looking for all the world like a delusional giant. Legionnaires fall back behind the nearly slathering behemoth. Loromon and Gnoss drag Rassik away from the enormous foot that emerges from the rent.

Legionnaires can barely fit, but the enormous bulk of the contemptor can't hope to squeeze through the narrow aperture. It howls as heavy bolter shells ring off its carapace and patter off the eldretch blue energy shields, throwing dancing sparks in the miasma. Akrodyne raises a fist, a thrumming rumble building as the haze shimmers and contorts unnaturally. With a pulling gesture, the dust cloud bursts around the massive form as the front of the massive building sheers away in a shower of bricks and ruined piping.

Any further orders die in the corporal's throat as he watches the manic dreadnought with a growing air of bemusement. He quickly darts into its shadow to avoid the heavy bolter, all the while Akrodyne's claws grip a wall each, pulling its enormous bulk through the narrow alley and raking its way down the passage, leaving enormous bestial furrows as it squeezed its bulk through.

Vroken sighs, sidling up next to the corporal and edges forward behind the machine, “Square peg-”

“Round hole.” Kanthrus finishes. Why Akrodyne hadn't found another way around wasn't his business; staying out of the autotellurian's graviton induction field as the enraged Cortus-Contemptor literally made his own way forward, was.

+++

Extra view:

Edited January 11, 2019 by Vykes

[Stix]

You sir, are monster! Such quality with such a pace:) Even though I am not fan of that mini(tbh from contemptors range I like only SoH, RG and EC dreadnoughts)but it looks very impressive! Love base!

[Vykes]

Thanks dude, to be honest I'm in the same boat.  I kinda more or less only really like the SoH, EC, and Osirion TS dreads, buuuut I needed something clunky and brutal to sell the "made from parts of a space T-72"  honestly, I'm just not great with putting Contemptors together.  But I'll get more practice soon enough.  

[Pearson73]

Solid weathering and textures on the Cortus, I too am impressed with the speed at which you got it painted up! Some nice prose too, I particularly liked the last two lines, once again giving an insight into the personalities and interactions of the members of the 65th.

[Vykes]

Vehicles are kind of a joy to paint up, because they always seem like they should take the most time by far, but because they're so big and geometric they come together pretty quick with an airbrush and some ink. Ah weathering, it's a surprisingly soothing pastime -laughs- opposite of building for me.

And thanks Pearson, mate. I'm pretty happy with how that last little bit went. It was a fair bit of fun to write in between some other little prosy bits of junk I've been doing.

Well, as a bit of a precursor: I managed to kickstart my 30K gaming thing again and it was a lot of fun. So, as a bit of a teaser (and hoping I have some half decent pictures)

Edited January 14, 2019 by Vykes

[Pearson73]

That's a nice battle-shot, I hope you'll be writing it up in a similar format to the last?

[Vykes]

Oh, most definitely :P Some minor technical problems but let's not have that stop this.

Anhers II- Hatzeenpferd Junction, Day 3

3,000 points XVI vs. IX, Onslaught
+++

Soft green light flickered off the mint-green armour of the legion captain. A pall cast by a slowly mutating holosphere at the rear of the Hand of the Warmster's interior, waterfalls of monochromatic green data spilling across its edges. Each depicted army formation reports and logistical memos that flitted by and disappeared in the twinkling of an eye. They had meaning and purpose, but the Legion captain focused on the solid red blots in the rough depiction and the soft pale green that slowly crept along the highways and byways like dribbling condensation trickling across a lead window pane.

Part of Kademius' mind twitched at the comparison, immediately conjuring heathen chapels put to the torch over dozens of compliance actions from Gnossis and Amphoden to Callas. Kademius sighed, letting out an unexpected growl as the assault transport pitched upwards awkwardly and settled back.

“Alright, cargo hauler or transit hovel; what'ddya think we hit that time?” The captain's expressionless gaze fell over the white streaked helmet of apothecary Effrom Rei. He didn't need to see the crooked smile to know it was plastered across the astartes' face.

“Apothecary, just be happy it wasn't a mine.” It got a nod, and Kademius looked over the long rows of warriors waiting in serried ranks. The score of legionnaires locked their magnetic boots to the floor, shields in hand, seven ranks deep and three wide, tightly packed and motionless. But already the flicker of conversation in the Charnel Hounds said several of them had made a wager, and Rei's comlink flicked channels to Sergeant Tenatus of the Crucible Borne who trudged in their wake.

Kademius had to admit, as juvenile as it was, it helped. His mind didn't travel to the unknown clot of red waiting for them: the amorphous blob of red labelled simply 'IX'. No one relished the prospect that here, among the crumbling city spires and roar of cannons, they would meet the Blood Angels. Two assaults by the Word Bearers 3^rd company, Venom Star chapter, and another by the Sons of Horus own 221^st Independent company had been repulsed. There was talk of an invulnerable golden Angel and wrathful hordes throwing themselves against formations like madmen-

“Ash Jackel Prime, Barrow Wraith prime reporting: column is converging on rally point. Hatzeenpferd junction is clear.” a vox blip signalled that they were almost two minutes early while sporadic sniper fire had slowed the progress of the central tine of the assault group, the Land Raiders of Agular Platoon. It wasn't perfect, he'd have to correct that, but it was close. Link up, push forward, and break through the Maazen Rause Hab blocks that had resisted their assaults for almost a week.

...

“By Baal, Gideon, that's a lot of tanks.” The gold clad warrior calmly breathes, staring out through the eyes of the marksmen at the looming plumes of dust kicked up by three converging columns of armour.

The praetor leans from the broken shambles of the hab block, face spattered of vile gore that stained the white sash and marred his glittering golden armour. The hololithic wings sparkle in ribboned bands of energy. His soft carved features betray nothing as he speaks, “So many tonnes of metal, so many kilos of meat. It matters not, Sephador. Cast it from you and mind your duties. All Scions, heed my words. There is only one order today.” He lifts his silvered blade, pointing it towards the yet-unseen columns,

“Attack! Attack! Sons of Sanguinius, arise and ATTACK!”

+++

Order of Battle

Sons of Horus: 65^th Company

HQ:

• Praetor "Ashram Kademius"- Boarding shield, Master Crafted Thunderhammer (Trait: Master of Offense)

Elite:

• Veteran Squad "Kalross" (10): Lightning Claws (2), Power Sword (6), Power Maul (1), Sergeant (Power Fist)
  -Rhino
• Apothecary "Effrom Rei"

Troops:

• Breacher Squad "Charnel Hounds" (20): Melta Guns (2), Sergeant (Power Fist).
• Tactical Squad "Crucible Borne" (20): Vexilia, Sergeant (Power Fist)
• Tactical Squad "Barrow Wraiths" (20): Vexilia, Sergeant (Power Sword)
• Tactical Squad "Cythensus" (20): Vexilia, Sergeant (Power Sword)
• Plasma Support Squad "Hail" (10)
  -Rhino

Heavy Support:

• Spartan "Hand of the Warmaster"
• Land Raider Squadron "Agular" (3): Command Tank, Dozer Blade (3), Twin-linked Heavy Bolters (3)
• Vindicator "Ancient Glory"

Blood Angels 225th Company

HQ:

• Praetor "Gideon Issiak": Paragon Blade, Mastercraft, Digital Weapons, Iron Halo, Jump pack
• -Command Squad "Belius" (5): Power Sword (3), Power Axe (1), Power Fist (1), Inferno Pistol (1)
• Master of Signals "Jormes Guinn": Auspex

Elite:

• Apothecary "Melosh Kantus":
• Cataphractii Squad "Cassio" (5): Power Fists (4), Power Sword (1)
• Destroyer Squad "Enmity" (5): Missile Launcher, Sergeant (Phosphex X2)

Troop:

• Tactical Squad "Absalom" (20): Vexilia, Sergeant (Power Sword, melta bombs)
• Tactical Squad "Erasure" (20): Vexilia, Sergeant (Power Sword, melta bombs)
• Assault Squad "Revelry" (20): Power Axe (4), Sergeant (Power Fist)

Fast Attack:

• Seeker Squad "Aegis" (5): Sergeant (Power Sword, Melta Bomb)
• Storm Eagle "Seraph 2": Twin-linked las cannon
• Land Speeder Squadron "Tempest" (3): Grav guns (3), Assault Cannon (3)

Heavy Support:

• Heavy Support Squad "Absolute" (5): Missile Launcher
• Scimitar Squad "Vengeance" (3): Multi-melta (3)

+++

Deployment:

[Vykes]

BLOOD ANGELS SEIZE THE INITIATIVE!

Turn 1

Western Chapel district assault troops.

Blood Angels

The Blood Angel's forces, gathered for the assault, were left in a disordered silence as a clarion horn howled through their helms. Dozens of red clad figures looked to one another, and as a dam burst, flooded forward towards the as-yet unseen columns of armour grinding their way over the dying city. The notion of the ambush was dead, it would be a fight to put an armoured column to flight. As their praetor watched in stony silence from the shattered base of the old Anzthis south trade block, spectral seekers wing their way up to the gantries while the assault squads lope forward across shattered boulevards leading into the Hatzeenpferd junction. Whoever could seize Hatzeenpferd, controlled the northern arterial route through the city.

Landing Zone Defenses.

“Be patient,” Master of Signals Jormes Guinn chided as the rolling thunder of tracks echoed in the middle distance. Yet, the enormous crumbling spires and columns of smoke shrouded the approach. They had concealed themselves well, taking commanding lines of sight over the junction and the eastern approaches towards the heathen Chapel of Scinton. But Praetor Gideon had deemed the battle begin without them... and the companies sole heavy weapons had little choice but to wait and stew under the aegis of their signals officer. The blond haired legionnaire occasionally taking sharp glances to the south.

Even the howl of anti-grav engines and rush of scattering dust as they billowed away in the unnatural backwash seemed distant, confused, even stuttering. The flights of Scimitars and Antioch speeders closing in, and approaching the nose of the Horusian column: the slab sided Vindicator assault gun rumbled forward with infantry squads prowling at its skirting. A hail of screeching assault cannon fire threw sparks across the siding while amid the tangles of the junction's tall obtrusive walkways, flashes of melta fire carved enormous dripping wounds in the support pylons.

Caught in a pincer of melta-bikes and hull stripping speeders ain't fun.

Sons of Horus

The creaking roll of the western assault column springs into life just as the roar of speeders and jetbikes reaches them, as did the whirlwind of cannon rounds spitting off Ancient Glory's adamantium hull. The Vindicator groaned and heaved its bulk onto the curb, shattering it and chewing up ferrocrete roadworks as it swung its snub-nosed cannon around to confront the pestering speeders.

With a screech of ramjet engines goaded to life, the speeders scattered like a flock of birds as the vindicator cannon belched a plume of fire and smoke that lifted the shattered dust like a carpet around the enormous gun. Berkat's Barrow Wraiths filter out past the Ancient Glory, swarming around its sides and taking cover among the crumbling columns of the old tariffs station as they pour fire into the flitting shapes of the speeders.

"Contact!"

Two armoured carriers grind by, using the Vindicator as cover as the lead in the formation quivers in a series of rhythmic 'thumps', white plumes of smoke ribbons of smoke from innocuous canisters raining down and further obscuring the street and the infantry forming at the edge of Junction Square.

Turn 2

Sneaky Tactical Squad Erasure shows up.

Blood Angels

Nearer to the chapel of Scrinton, the assault elements find themselves swiftly reinforced as their other brethren filter out from the basements and safe harbours eeked out for them. Tactical squads form up in ruby red ranks and march forward, vox amps shouting 'Victoria!' to the open air as the praetor's golden squad bound over them, angelic wings sparkling in the smoke-slicked sanguine sky. The Angels had come. With a murderous howl of rage, the assault platoon throws themselves forward in long bounding leaps, the enormous bulk of the spartan crashing down over a rubble heap acting as a marker. The gesturing tank commander in the cupola slamming a fist on the armoured ring and buttoning the hatch down.

To the west, the flock of speeders reforms and slowly reshapes itself into position, a skulking unit of destroyers shielding themselves as best as possible as the light attack company looms out of the curtains of debris still raining down from the vindicator's blast. The haze disappears almost immediately as a massive winged shape billows out from the smoke with an ear-piercing shriek. The Seraph had arrived.

The stream of spiraling, corkscrewing missiles fell upon the impervious hull of the Vindicator in a rippling wave of explosions. Legionnaires pressed to the hull to take cover from cannon shell and sheltered by crumbling columns came apart in bloody scraps as the wave of missiles pulped every centimetre around the siege gun. Like a wounded beast, the vindicator's muzzle dipped, its mantlet shielding the more vulnerable cracks in its front hull. But flat on, a dead enter shot, a quartet of ruby lances sear the space and for an instant, connect the screaming gunship and bulky siege gun. Armour plates buckle, fail, and crew vaporize in the heat as one of the enormous rounds propellant is struck in the loading chamber.

Missiles kill 5 legionnaires

las cannon destroys Vindicator in explosion.

2: 3 multi melta, 1 save, 1 shaken

5 missiles hit, 2 pen 2 glance,

and only one glance gets through.

Key Notes

One of these tanks is lucky, one is unlucky, and one is flat out ignored.

Ancient Glory disintegrates in a swirling whirlwind of fire and smoke, blasting apart in a bone crunching shiver that echoes for kilometres¹. Scads of twisted wreckage fling down with powdered bits of ceramite armour across the junction square. A three meter scrap of unidentifiable metal punching a hole through Biennmoss house's roof almost half a kilometre north of the junction.

Stricken and surprised, the legion platoon pulls themselves up around a single officer waving a short gladius over his head. Groggily but obediently, they advance past the crater and few scattered plates that marked where the siege gun had been, tramping over scraps of their fellow troopers painting the tariff office's sidewalks.

The Scimitar group heels over, breaking to starboard and readjusting as they howl into junction square. Multi melta shots roar, scything into the mist, and to their sergeants chagrin, out the other side to liquefy enormous patches of pavement. A plunging deluge of rockets from the Anthiz west trade building falls into the swirling white miasma obscuring the carrier. Black billowing puffs of smoke rise, but the cratered and pocked front of the Sons of Horus rhino barrels through it, blackened but still rolling forward².

In the lee of the heather chapel, the wave of enraged Angels hurls themselves against the Spartan assault tank. And while they swarm over the top and hack with power blades against pins and joints, the Spartan does not fail. Their sergeant leaps on the flat top of the forward assault hatch next to the twin heavy bolters panning by, bringing his hulking power fist down in a maddening flurry of blows that echo like a gong in the vehicle's hold, sending spidering cracks along the plate. But the vehicle looks little worse for wear as it wheels and pulls away from the not-quite encircling group of wrathful angels.

Things start spiraling just a little bit

Sons of Horus

“To the left. Left! Draw them off!” Kademius hissed at the driver who meekly complied. The Spartan heaved its way through the corner of a building as it reversed hard, breaking free from the thronging host of assault troops. The ninth legion troops milled about the hull, and he watched with no degree of smug satisfaction as only a few of the angelic berserkers took a glance through the dust plume kicked up by the Spartan's departure. “Sergeant Tenatus-”

Oram Bearkat flicked his vox-link over to the localized net and roared over the external amps,

“Push forward!”

He'd barely gotten the signal that the Land Raider squad Agular had arrived in support, even as his western tine of the assault had suddenly lost their assault gun. Ducking down, he shimmied behind one of the stanchions as bolter fire etched overhead. Two of his legionnaires popping up to fire a few covering shots, then racing by. Kneeling, Bearkat touched a hand to the plastron of one of his legionnaires, any further down and he'd be running his fingers through the coils of the legionnaire's entrails where he'd been split in two. Vital signs flickering, he cursed the Rei was so far away.

“We need support.” he spoke more to himself than anyone else. A blink click opened a channel to Squad hail, “Debark for immediate close support. Concentrate fire on those scimitars before they break Agular apart!” There was a flick of acknowledgement as the second rhino screeched to a half and dropped its ramps. Even before it had settled, a half score of troopers debarked, weapons fully charged as blue trails hove through the smoke and dust cloud like festival lanterns.

1: 8 of 13 saves were failures. 300 points of

power armour ladies and gents.

2:76 fury shots and 1 grenade, 11 dead.

Moral test 5+6, fail and fall back 7"

Key Notes

Pulling himself up, he pointed his gladius forward, his bolt pistol carried low as the small group of jump-troopers emerged to fire on them.

He shot first, clipping a destroyer under the arm and twirling him off balance. He collapsed to his knees as a second destroyer emerged. Even before he'd left the cover at the end of the tariffs office, one of his legionnaires had traced a bracketing automatic salvo into him and ruptured the helmet into a geyser of crimson. His squad pushed up, and while the pistol wielders fired a few shots, trooper Vark tossed a seemingly innocuous grenade, the concussion driving out two more as his shaken squad dragged them down in curtains of bolter fire. Five corpses were all that was left as his troopers trampled over them, their objective, the pre-fab landing platform emerged from the smoke like an iceberg in the mist¹.

30K pink slips for all!

Sergeant Tenatus heard his name over the vox, and he'd already known about the assault platoon rushing to confront the Hand of the Warmaster. The Spartan churned up dust and blundered through a building, but it did its work. He saw the flock of assault troops poised, tensed like springs as they watched the retreating Spartan as if it had been driven off. They barely looked at his neat ranks upon ranks of troopers lined up like Imperial Army on a firing range. A few unreadable emerald eyes peered at them, and he let himself grin.

“In the name of the Warmaster, execute your orders!”

Scrinton chapel lit up as a score of bolters spoke in the same lethal choir. Close range, flat-footed, the bolts cut at neck height and the scything sheets of explosive rounds stitched across the unwary astartes below them, turning ceramite to dust and flesh to pink mist.

“Lupercal!”

They fell in droves, and while some raced forward, they broke apart like salt cubes struck by a hammer. The pulverized masses dropped as the ammo counters on the bolters raced to zero. As the chorus ended, the Assault element were in retreat, driven back as empty magazines were tossed to the rubble.

“Lupercal!” Tenatus felt the cry on his lips, his chest heaving as the Angels fled before them, leaving more than half a score dead.

Avaloth lightly tapped the controls of his Storm Eagle, Seraph 2. The Gunship pulled up hard after the Vindicator detonated, and he spotted the trio of Land Raiders and swarm of plasma toting troopers quickly. He banked away from the lances of scalding light that spat out, narrowly missing his agile box-of a gunship. Down below he saw blurts of volatile blue flame, then orange plumes as scimitar and rider were peeled away and erased inconsequentially from existence. He, at least, would do his level best not to follow in their wake. Avaloth pulled it into series of drunken dips and dives, easing away from the normal flight paths.

1: 5 las-cannon hits, 5 jinks

2: 2 quad las-cannon hits, 0 save, 2 pen, 1 shaken

heavy bolter destroyed

Key Notes

“Like threading a needle.” he mumbled to himself, avoiding another hail of las fire as the Land Raiders emerged into the junction¹. Staring towards the Scrinton Chapel, he bared his teeth, seeing the squat long hull of a Spartan in the middle of the road. “Wasn't there before.” As the las-cannons of the quad arrays stabbed out in sequence, he threw the agile gunship into a powered barrel roll a moment too late. The frame shook and rocked like someone had physically punched him with a power fist. He bled from where his teeth punctured his lip, and yet the Eagle's resilient frame spat plumes of white hot flame as it swept over the pavement at less than a meter and shot up and over the lattice of walkways².

“Still alive back there?” A single green affirmation rune blipped on his helm. Cassio wasn't much for talking, even for one of the sons of Baal, he was fitfully laconic.

(Keynote: the Eagle survived no less than 5 penetrating hits thanks to all passed jink saves, only for the spartan to hit twice, pen twice, and the jinks did nothing... and ended up shaking it and blowing off the heavy bolters. 'Oh no, the king of guns is dead!' In other news, Death Dealer plasma squad on jinking jetbikes... even with 2 3+ cover saves from the statuary, the bikes were dead. Oye.)

Turn 3

Things are looking up for the boys in red!

Blood Angels

Hurled back from the Spartan, more than half their number dead or dying, Kinniroth rallied his troopers, power fist upraised to the heavens. “Come now, soldiers of Baal, warriors of light.” He caught an ephemeral glimpse of the golden praetor lightly touching down, and sprinting forward. “in the name of Sanguinius: One. More. Try!”

Activating their jump packs, their bounding leaps eats up distance like few things else could. Pistols raised, chainswords beared, they closed in on the parade line of black and green legionnaires. Kinniroth pointed his pistol at the transverse-crested sergeant near the front.

The Junction Square had become a mess of wrecked armour, smoke, and stamping feet. Haddar had been watching it. His seekers crept back into cover behind the shattered remnants of the third store of the north Anthiz trade building. They'd crossed the gantries, only for Dekar to be struck by a Land Raider's heavy bolter round and pitch over the ledge to the rubble twenty meters below. Aliz took a shot to his helmet and lost both eyes when the armorglas shattered. He could still hear the legionnaires laboured breathing as he lay with his back against the rockrete wall. “Sergeant.” Mattium visually marked the field with a flurry of icons and runes. It was swiftly overlaid by Signals officer Guinn.

“Load Tempest and fire free.” Haddar pointed to the Assault squad closing in on the neatly arrayed platoon of Horusian legionnaires.

High priority targets, or dancing with the dead?

Sergeant Bearkat waved his legionnaires forward past the crumpled heaps of the dead Blood Angels Destroyers. The flight of speeders sprayed assault cannon bolts past them, the high undulating screech as they passed overhead was deafening. But the low bass rumble as the air shimmered was more worrying. Tiny motes of darkness speckled like childhood memories of looking at Terra's sun for more than a moment. It wavered, shifting gravitational fields as they swept down the street, sun finally filtering down through the haze. A thin red line had appeared over the crest of the landing platform, and bolt shots skipped over pavement and winked off armour in short-lived bursts of sparks. None of his troopers fell, a few were hurt by the concussions and Wymoss's warble of surprise at the grav field's pressures even earned a manic laugh of bemusement.

But the cratered and pitted rhino finally ground to a halt with the low whirring of its powerplants shutting down. The armoured hatched opened with a magnetic thump, and he saw the veterans of Kalross squad darting out and into the shaded lee of the gantries in the centre of the squad, near the towering statue of Unity.

Thunderous explosions rock the trio of monolithic slab-sided Raiders crawling across the junction. Sergeant Kinnaroth gives them a perfunctory glance as they ignore one another, and he spots the Storm Eagle rocking crazily side to side and swooping in towards them. That was more pertinent.

“Forward, scions of Sanguinius!” Kinnaroth raises his fist, making him the focal point of his demoralized sons, “Forward!”

1:3 Tempest shells, 25 hits, 8 wounds, 6 saves.

Key Notes

The low guttural puffs of fragmentation airbursts rain sharp steel flachette among the tightly clustered firing lines, but while crests were shredded and paint peeled, few succumbed to the barrage from on high. Kinnaroth's assault squad closed with the Sons of Horus. “Traitorous bastards!”

“Crucibal Born, HOLD!” came a roar from the crest of the hill. And the black plated warriors closed in lockstep as the Angels threw themselves at the neat ranks.

Or, not looking up... still not sure how that happened

The warmaster's banner fluttered in the breeze, and even as a seething red blotted his vision he swore to himself he'd take that flag and tear the hearts from its traitorous ensign. A ringing snarl rang in his helm, detached and familiar. He didn't recognize his own voice as he pulled one legionnaire from his feet and pried his torso apart where armour, carapace, and bone separated like a boiled crustacean. He saw his Angels, albeit peripherally, hurling themselves up the slope.

He looked for another as the gore coated fist dropped the shriven corpse to the dust. He lashed out, but found it deflected by a blade that melted into gobbets at the touch. He pushed forward over the hillock, among the green warriors who hemmed him in, goaded him and sprang back only for daggers to pelt off his ribs and thrumming jump pack.

He saw red, red everywhere... but the crimson veil parted for a moment. Another of his angels was grasped from behind, pulling his helmet back as another Horusian rammed a bolt pistol under his chin and blew out the top of his skull. Others were fighting with two, or three Horusians at a time, while one would dart in to slice at weakened joints or from the blind side. They weren't soldiers, they were pit-scum, animals... and they were killing his scions. Crimson clad bodies toppled back over the threshold, pitched off, kicked sliding down the rubble. The attack was a mired melee, and they had broken as deep into the platoon and now fought surrounded by packs of predators¹.

1: Blood Angel charge kills 4... just 4.

Sons of Horus kill 4 back.

2: 6 melta bombs, 3 hit, 1 glance, 1 pen shaken.

Key Notes

Light winked off polished golden plate, throwing dazzling sparks across the dilapidated ruins of the ancient heathen fane. But Praetor Gideon's squad threw themselves at the Hand of the Warmaster. The Spartan juddered, and magnetic clamps failed. The Angelic specters tried to plant melta charges as the vehicle bucked like a feral equine. Despite a few high pitched hisses, the golden squad backed off as the ramps fell, the Spartan smoking but intact².

Just enough room to debark down the assault ramp

Sons of Horus

Kademius felt the vehicle shake and shudder, the doors already opening as he commanded. “Forward and standard dispersal patterns. Throw them back!” But he cycled through his information, seeing the affirmation that Squad Cythensus had arrived behind the lumbering Raiders of Agular. Apparently one was now immobilized but still functional. Western squads under Bearkat were advancing on the landing platform overlooking the junction. The position was marked priority, and a half dozen squads signaled compliance. His veteran squads leading the other assault moving at the double-quick. It looked like an inescapable tide, but even a tide could hit a breakwater.

Done in only a few heartbeats, the Praetor thumbed the activation stud of his thunder hammer, the head pulsing to crackling life with a little electric whine of its capacitor.

His breachers file out in neat order, forming a semi-circle, throwing back a small cluster of surprised golden figures. Gold, for a moment, Kademius's primary heart fluttered with the thought of 'Custodes'. Then worse 'The Angel'. Golden armour, flickering white pinion wings... but he was still a favored of Sanguinius.

He stepped foot into the sun next to Effrom, already spotting the tide of Blood Angel infantry sweeping towards them.

The debarkation was an assault debarkation. Pistol shots, grenades, and melta guns leveled into the command squad. Bolt shots fluttered over pristine Baalite armour, while a spear of white-hot melta fire dissipated with a crackle and distinctive heat haze as it connected with the Praetor's power field, a halo of stars forming behind his head. If anything, they were visually impressive. But two of the host were cast down, the second melta bisecting a golden figure and immolating it completely.

“Charnel Hounds, charge!” With a pounding rasp of shields, they locked and charged the stunned Blood Angel Praetor.

“Never a dull moment, Kademius.” Apothecary Rei revved his chainsword, but already he was moving out further along the flank, ready to provide aid.

1: 4 las cannon pens, 2 plasma glance, all jinked

Key Notes

.The Blood Angel's Storm Eagle Seraph 2 danced and sidestepped the fury of the Land Raider column after he leveled a shot into the rearmost vehicle. It was a lucky shot, but it had still connected, not that it did much against its bulk. Avaloth anticipated the Spartan this time, twisting neatly away from its scything beams, but a sixth-sense of sort made him throw himself forward on the flight yoke, plunging the Eagle into a dive as flashes of plasma spewed overhead¹. Hauling back, the pilot howled his triumph as he soared over the Raiders and right up near the chapel. He blink clicked the hold's lighting from combat red to flickering amber: a signal to Cassio that the drop was coming up

“Charge!” Kadeium's platoon of breachers formed into a wall and inescapably pushed forward, plowing into the Blood Angels command squad.

Pretty boy hero poses

“Traitor!” The winged Praetor of Baal levelled his energy sword at Kademius, and the praetor took a breath as he strode forward, golden shield raised and Thunderhammer readied low. It had begun. As his breachers pushed back the command squad in a hacking flurry of power blades and sundered shields, the angel darted in and swept his pale blade low. The shield shunted it to one side, a second slipped past his guard, carving a furrow through his side and shredding his black cloak. Another stabbing lunge tore through his gorget, tracing a bloody furrow across his collarbone with the hiss of cauterizing flesh. Rei had mixed the alchemical stims, and they flooded into his bloodstream easing the pain in a single heartbeat.

The thunderhammer swung around as soon as the blade passed inside his guard. The lethargic blow skipping wide of the Praetor, a sharp thrust of the blunt head connected with his ribs, driving him back with a huff of breath as a kick to his legs staggered the Angelic Praetor. Wild cry and overhead blow should have done it... it connected with a power field rather than skull, and with a burst of incandescent white, pushed the two opponents apart in a cataclysmic crack of white lightning. Blown back, Kademius rocked on his feet while the Praetor hopped back into a defensive crouch, blade held to his vambracer as he studied Kademius.

“I would have your name, traitor!” The steady unhurried voice of the Praetor demanded even as his command squad was dragged down around him.

Peeling his helmet back, Kademius mag-locked the helmet to his waist. “Ashram Kademius, and you, Baalite?” Short brown hair, a long gaunt face and dark eyes marked him as Nordafrik bloodline in ages past. Leaner, darker, and shorter than the pallid Giddeon, Ashram passively watched the Blood Angel circle like a lion, as another wave of Blood Angels closed in, heedless of the terrible toll the Horusians inflicted on the crumbling assault squad.

Kademius didn't miss the little smirk of the Praetor who replied simply, “Gideon Issiak.”

1:Gideon hits 3 times, 3 wounds, 1 save, 1 FNP.

Thunderhammer 2 hits, 1 wound, 1 Invul.

Hoooowever, I totally forgot both Master-Crafted

on the hammer AND Master of Offense.

Key Notes

Kinniroth warded away probing attack after attack, batting away blades or swings with the butt of his bolt pistol kept them at bay, but he saw the axe of one of his corporals lodge in the chest of a 16^th legion warrior, but the blade lodged fast and he was brought down in a hacking mass of Horusian warriors. Another two gone, so few left... so few.

The world glowed around him, but it wasn't the miasma of rage tainting his senses, nor was it more of his angels, for just a moment: Horusian and Imperial alike were seized by the winking of lights in the heavens.

Edited January 21, 2019 by Vykes

[Vykes]

Turn 4

Glad we're not using the skyshield style rules, ugh.

Blood Angels

Bearkat watched the speeders dip back over the crest of the landing platform, but as they streamed across the junction, now joined by another platoon of infantry, it was a matter of wrenching it away from the defenders. But the defenders levelled their bolters at the veterans who scale the gantries, and in a thunderous deluge like horizontal rain, the grey-clad veterans that ascended are picked off and hurled from the raised platform, thrown from it or torn to pieces and lay half collapsed over the edge in crimson waterfalls. Driven back, the four remainder edge back towards the crumbled aquilla and statuary only for sharp cracking rings from the rooftops to pick off even more as they withdrew. Pinned by the precision seeker's fire and hurled back, the advance falters. For his part, Bearkat realizes it was at least an opportunity as he pushes his depleted platoon forward.

In the lee of the trade buildings, the score of Blood Angels warriors march in perfect beat before breaking into a lope, then a steady run. The world glows red for a moment, and a retina searing flash and juddering boom nearly tosses everyone present to their knees. Battering streams of near-divine wrath rain down upon the Spartan and semi-circle of warriors. Streak after wrothful streak blister down, bleaching the world into stark monochrome, leaving flash burns across the rockrete bleached white by the pillars of flame.

1: Master of Signal strike hits ~20 breachers.

Breacher shield locked+Invul=10 dead breachers,

Blood Angel praetor passes LOS

Key Notes

The heavens roil and peel as another lance of divine wrath plunges groundward and strikes the formation, incinerating a dozen warriors in a heartbeat with a calamitous swirl of dust and vaporized stone sucked into the ensuing vacuum. All that's left is the slowly rising knot of Horusian warriors and the popping, crackling hull of the Spartan Assault tank.

“The Emperor's wrath upon you!” Shouts one of the formation, and with a blood curdling howl, the Blood Angels descend on the staggering shieldwall.

In the wake of the lance strike, the Blood Angels reinforcements throw themselves at the shieldwall. The hacking blades and vengeful lashes meet resilient adamantine, and they cluster in a slowly shrinking circle around the winged praetor and smouldering captain of the 65^th.

Kademius collapses while the Blood Angel war-leader throws himself forward through the scorching haze, a blow piercing through the captain's arm shearing through his wrist and dropping the thunderhammer. A kick from the Blood Angel smashes into the kneeling man's face, buffeting him flat and shattering his jaw. The bejeweled pale blade swings in the air, raised overhead in a final coup-de gras. A slab of iron crashes into the Praetor's side, flinging the Praetor wide as the sergeant of the Charnel Hounds slams the edge down on the far side of the fallen captain. The plumed warrior stands in the midst of his warriors, gathering around Kademius.

Okay, you an't shoot into combat, but combat adjacent...

“Piss off you chimeric mud-blooded pigeon. Fly back to your abominable genetic-defect of a father and tell him Horus said 'No'!” He clenches his power fist, a smirk clear across his face as the Praetor's angelic visage contorts into a mask of feral rage.

The tide of red armoured warriors once more crash into the Breachers, but the smaller knot of warriors on the rubble pile had shrunk. Back to back now, two corporals lashed out with power axes, severing an arm here, hacking into a leg there, but taunted and goaded by the Crucible Born, they would make a mistake. It was over an an instant, a single over-extended axe batted aside by a combat blade as their leader lunged up and over the ground, the power fist thundering into the axe-wielding legionnaire and sundering him at his core in a spatter of gore. The fellow Angel twisted, the blade caught by the Power Fist's energy field and shattered. He was overwhelmed by four Horisians and hacked to bits. “NO!” Kinniroth charged forwards, slamming the head clean off of one legionnaire before drawing in a breath and finding he couldn't. A sucking bubbling burbled from his lips as a little chime in his helmet rang warning lights and granted pain balms.

Assault marines kill 2 SoH,

Tacticals kill 2, and merciless fighter kills the sergeant.

Key Notes

“Never show your back to a wolf.” came the sinister hiss from behind him. The pair of combat blades shoved up and through the power cablings to pierce his primary lungs. A kick to the back of his knee drove him down, head lolling forward as he wheezed mist. Kinniroth's head lulled up just to see a legionnaire grasp a fallen power axe and swing it straight between his eyes¹...

Sons of Horus

Duck Hunt never felt half as satisfying.

...Toss in a Space Wolf shoot, maybe.

Sergeant Bearkat opened a channel on the vox, “Barrow Wright Prime to Kalross Prime.” a swift acknowledgement prompts the sergeant as he points up at the ledge for his own immediate group and blink clicks a target solution order. “We're pushing up from the streets. We'll screen and storm, Hail's been dispatched to take down the Eagle and then we'll make a push on the platform.” he expanded his vox net to the north-tine assault group. “Barrow Wraith Prime to Agular Prime.” Another 'copy' had him repeat, “We're pushing up without armour support. Seize the junction and plate to the south. Watch those speeders, they circled around. Got missiles up in the top spires of that trade house.” Flicking through targets, he ignored the confirmations and took a few suppressing shots at the squad at the ledge.

To their credit, the Raiders streamed forward, heavy bolters chattering at the concealed seeker team in the high reaches, shredding the masonry in a hail of bolters, while las cannons snapped shots at the decelerating gunship as it swept around in an awkward arc between buildings. The piercing lances of blue energy missed, as did rhythmic pulses from the Spartan. But as Squad Hail ascended the gantries, overlooking the trundling trio of Raiders and masses of infantry seething across the open square, Bearkat glimpsed their sergeant silhouetted in the darkness, a hand to his ear piece. He pointed, and the plasma gunners took up position.

“Alright Cassio,” Avaloth said as he brought the gunship around in an arcing circle. “Ramp is green in five, four, three-” He pulled the eagle right a touch, ignoring a gout of blue from the Spartan and yawed it back as he flipped the port side hatch, “tw-” The first spear of plasma streaked past his cockpit and impacted against the statuary of the chapel, crumbling it. Avaloth held the Eagle relatively steady, a little juke to the side dodging at least one more shot before the frame juddered. “Hit. Out, out, get out Cassio!”

With a hissing spluttering cough, the starboard wing thrusters coughed and burned out with a simpering whine. The secondary fuel line bursts with a bass huff, racing fires spread up the wings as one after another the thunderous steps of Terminator armour heaved themselves from the side access as Avaloth wrestled with the yoke to keep the Gunship from bucking or sliding aft-ward towards the ground. The gunship swung like a drunkard, and awkwardly dipped its back downward. Two of the terminators slid back and Avaloth couldn't hold the gunship as he kicked the engines forward. A blast of plasma struck the main thruster cowling, sending spurts of fire back on itself blocking it as the aircraft slough to the side, shattering enigmatic idol statues and pitching nose up.

Eagle jinks 2 las cannon,

plasma pen explodes eagle, kills 1 Cataphractii from inv.

Eagle drifts 11" and kills 2 legionnaires

2: 2 Squads rapid fire, kills 2 Terminators.

Key Notes

“Oooh not good. Fassin, Aelith, get outta here!” Fassin heaved himself up from the door frame, jumping out of the near-vertical gunship and slamming down on the platform while Aelith slid into the back. With a breath, Avaloth listened to the ringing chime of master alarms, seeing the wild blue sky one last time as the gunship flopped onto its back with a protesting shriek of burning fuel and sucking air. It drifted back wildly, spinning over and tipping nose-down right among the advancing infantry, landing with a massive percussive belch of fire as its fuel tanks burst. The overpressure threw back advancing Horusian legionnaires, licking paint from the trio of land raiders as thick black plumes of burning petrol raced skywards¹.

"Keep walkin'"

Sergeant Tenatus and his Crucible Born watch the gunship fall from the sky, but he hisses and watched the hulking terminators leap the short distance from gunship to the second story of the chapel. “What are you waiting for, open fire!” Streaking bolts flicked out in such torrents between their squad, and Cythisius that one, then two collapsed in unmoving heaps. Whether from severed servoes or lucky shots was impossible to tell at that distance. One struck the edge of the building and was promptly shot in the exposed knee joint to tumble back to the entrance. Grumbling at the choice of interceding against the Blood Angels locking the breachers in place or this new threat, Tenatus waved his soldiers forward, keeping a careful watch on the ledge².

Effrom Rei wasn't particularly sure about the whole progress, but he was hemmed in and broke away from Kademius as well. The Charnel Hound's sergeant was typically cocky... and he bit his lip while sutchering another breacher's ruptured back after having stuffed shredded lung tissue back through the hole in his back with a more than generous helping of sulfur packets and mutagenic tissue rebinder. The once prowling warrior-prince of the Blood Angels had dueled Kademius, this was nothing like it. The hacking overhanded blows crashed into the edge of the shield, raining brutish swings over and over before batting the shield aside in a puff of sparks and cleaving the sergeant's upper torso in half.

“That's inelegant.” The Blood Angel heaved with effort, panning his gaze towards the apothecary. Rei clenched his jaw and patted the breacher after a bolt shot rang off his helmet. “You'll probably be fine...” The breacher blocked a combat knife and blasted a fist-sized hole in a Blood Angel's chest as he slumped against the shield with an awkward squelch and smear of blood.

Turn 5

3 on 3 vehicle fight, totally fair right?

Blood Angels

Bearkat had thrown his squad into a quick march, covering fire from his squad had thrown at least two or three of the Blood Angels back, but the white swirls here and there spoke to the presence of an apothecary. As another of his squad fell with a muted 'oomph' and spray of gore on the lifeless pavement, he wished he had Rei with him. Or even the more sullen Nizan.

1: grav gun inflicts 3 haywire on Raider Squadron.

Missile Squad strikes but fails to penetrate armour.

2: in moment of ridiculousness, Praetor hits Apothecary once

then fails to wound.

Breachers and Tactical squad lose 1 legionnaire each

Key Notes

Ramjets and a concussive 'boom' of overpressure swept clouds of swirling debris from the landing pad and an engine flare appeared for the briefest moment as the Speeders peeled off from the platform. He wasn't sure where they went, but he could guess they'd slipped off towards the encroaching Raider column or perhaps, fell back... the later was more of a hope than a guess. And as the rockets fell from their support teams among the approaching Raider squadron, the vibrating blurts of bass heralded the grav gun torrent. The Lead Raider slowed but thankfully carried on despite the grind of protesting gears that rattled like a handful of stones tossed into a speeder's air intake¹.

Effrom Rei balanced on a swordpoint, weaving away from the enraged praetor who swung the howling blade at him as he parried it with his chainsword, batting it away and leaving massive gouges in the thin housing. There was no taunts, no threats of violence, Rei merely swept away from the Praetor at every opportunity and batted the sword away. But for the moment , he was leading the Blood Angel away from the fallen Kademius. All around him the Breachers were slowly collapsing back into a circle, outnumbered three-to-one and dragged down. He nearly lost an arm from the momentary lapse, his chainsword was sliced in two leaving Rei little more than a hilt and pistol to ward off the two handed pale blade².

alignment wasn't our strong-suit here

Sons of Horus

The Crucible Born dart into the chapel, ascending the spiraling staircase, fully expecting the fusillade of shots from the terminators above. Tenatus waved them up, glancing at the slowly advancing Raiders and reinforcement squad that closes in on the landing platform to the south of the junction. The ocean-green tide rolls forward, hoping to overwhelm the single position just as his squad ascends the steps, pressed into a heedless run to ascend the steps and overwhelm the terminators.

1: Plasma fire kills 2, bolters and greandes kill 3.

Angels fail moral check and withdraw 7".

Key Notes

The landing platform was beset on three sides: a single platoon of Blood Angel defenders and their attendant apothecary fire into the onrushing crowds, but where there was once a single advancing squad, now four converged on their position. Plasma blasts from squad hail chewed through several defenders, throwing them back as Bearkat's Barrow Wraiths raked the overwatch with grenades, and even the Land Raiders poured heavy bolter fire into the thronging masses. As parts of the platform wall give way, sending toppling Blood Angel dead to the streets below, the mass fall back, consolidating in good order as they cover their retreat with a continuous stream of bolts, edging back and out of the line of fire.

Hoping this isn't the highwater mark.

The trundling column of land raiders still presses on, las cannons swiveling to confront the Land Speeders. In a flurry of electric blue energy, two are sent hutling to the ground, smashing hard into the pavement and sending bits of wreckage skipping out in every direction.

1: 4 las-cannon shots, 0 jink, kills 2 of 3 Speeders.

2: Apothecary killed, 4 Breachers killed

Key Notes

Effrom wove away from the seeking blade as the Breachers closed in at their last defensive position. He was well parted from them, reeling back and hoping not to land awkwardly. The bolt pistol rang out in his hand, merely sending the far-better praetor skipping to the left and swinging in a hacking slice. Effrom squeezed the trigger but there was no response. He'd dropped his bolt pistol, with the hand still attached. The combat stims barely let him feel it as he stared in bewilderment at the stump, failing to notice the arc of the glinting blade just a pace beyond that.

Turn 6

It'll do.

Blood Angels

Like a lunatic driven to heroism, the remaining speeder accelerated into the mass of infantry, firing wildly with its grav gun, sending the leading land raider spluttering into silence as its commander pounded a fist on the cupola. The assault cannon's barrels cycle to life in a blurt of mass-reactive rounds, cutting into the de-tracked raider, punching orange holes through its hull. It waves, bobbing as smoke spews from damaged engines and ruined flight surfaces, just a few meters above the heads of the legionnaires¹.

1: Grav gun finishes off Raider with haywire.

Assault cannon FINALLY gets 1 end, Raider 3 on 2 HP.

5 Missiles deflect off Raiders, again.

2: Long range Fury of the Legion just finishes off Veterans

3: Combi-bolter fails to wound

charge kills 1 terminator and 4 legionnaires in return

4: Breachers wiped out by Praetor and Squad,

They consoldate towards the Chapel

Key Notes

While they had fallen back well beyond the barricade and into the center, the staccato roar of bolter fire found its mark as the veterans of squad Kalross rush over the gantries. One, then two, and finally the third staggers under the unrelenting fire of the tactical unit. Then silence. It wasn't a difficult job to seize the initiative bought by the veteran squad as the Blood Angels reloaded and the Sons of Horus pushed hard, up the ruined access ramps and pounding across the walkways at the cluster of blood-red scions of the ninth².

Tenatus stared down the barrel of the combi-bolter, raising a fist as the weapon spat a fusillade of death at them, ringing off armour and forcing one of his warriors to his knee. But none dropped. A faint hope that they had weathered the storm was smashed a moment later when the terminators hurtled into the squad, forcing them back, battering one then another off the battlements with wide sweeps of their power fists, smashing Kastus against the masonry and spattering blood across the steps. Tenatus leapt forward after another of his depleted squad was tossed screaming over the precipice, sending a thundering power fist stroke into the center of the terminator's body. The energy field flickered and adamantium cracked as it shattered armour, ribs, and ruptured flesh in a mechanical roar of pain. The first terminator dropped to its knees, an unmoving statue to replace the broken idiols crowned atop the chapel. Only the sergeant remained, strokes of his broadswords disembolwing two more as a point blank salvo tore a legionnaire from his swordpoint in a bubbling mess.

Far below them, the last of the breachers are brought down in a holwing pack of ravening warriors⁴. They move on like a pack of wild dogs, just as capable and just as coordinated as the Crucible Born had minutes before.

Ruuuun, Bearket, Ruuun!

Sons of Horus

Bearkat ascended the ladder, watching as whirring trails of super-heated plasma boil overhead, slamming into the warriors in the middle of the platform. Deprived of cover, their apothecary can only do so much as the close range prowling of Squad Hail liquefies astartes after astartes. They hold fast, kneeling in a firing line as they race to reload against both squad Cythius closing in from the streets and squad Barrow Wraith crossing the gantries. Kill, or be killed.

“Forward!”

He heard the crash of the speeder, watching it sheered from the air by the Land Raiders. A final rush, one final push for the Warmaster.

“Lupercal!”

...

+++

Tentative Final:

Onslaught Rules: no unit destroyed in Turn 1. Blood Angels kill 5 units and Praetor for Slay the Warlord. Sons of Horus kill 7 to gain Aggressive.

1:1, Draw...

...Blast.

-laughs- Alright, not much to say, no big rites of war were used as I'm still getting used to it and my opponent is still new-ish to command. That said, it was another game of some pretty wonky rolling. On one hand, the Angels were rolling abysmally for their armour saves, but their jink saves were just... ugh. Anyway, not a huge amount to say except it was fun. Haven't played 3K in a little while now. Kinda feel like I should be pushing it up some more too, but toss in some armour for the Angels in particular. Then maybe we can get a superheavy fight going on.

Edited January 21, 2019 by Vykes

[Phatsquirre1]

That was a pleasure to read, and the visuals are none too bad either... 

 

Looking forward to the next installment. 

[thewarriorhunter]

Holy smokes that LOOKS awesome. I'll have to take the time to read it when I'm break. Great looking table and armies.

[Pearson73]

That was a really enjoyable read, supported by some good visuals too. Sounds, and looks, like it was a good game, the terrain look just the right amount to feel as if fighting in an actual location, not just another empty plain.

[Cadmus Tyro]

Awesome stuff mate, as per. I was surprised at the end result, rolling all that AV14 at an opponent with little in the way of anti-armour.

 

I keep saying this in various places on the forum, but, tell your BA mate to take melta bombs on his assault marines. Your spartan would not have lasted long with this simple upgrade!

 

Multibombing for the win! (Seriously though, that single rule in 30k really helps to balance infantry against vehicles).

 

Cadmus

[Vykes]

-laughs- thanks mates.  I wish I kept a little more meticulous notes, but I think the game ended at like 4:30 AM or some such, which also goes a long way into why there's only 30 odd pictures I used out of the 140-odd ones I took. Glad it looks pretty enough Phatsquirre1, WarriorHunter! 

 

Aye Pearson, it was pretty fun, and I think it was pretty solid overall.  It looks a little more cluttered than it is thanks to the mat breaking up the field, but it had enough line of sight blocking to hide fragile units (except those poor poor destroyers) but more than enough for a Spartan to theoretically move around. 

 

Man, you and me both, Cadmus Tyro.  I was certain that the Raiders would either roll on through or suffer a catastrophic luck strike and get hit by 3 multi meltas from the 3 bikes, and go critical turn 2... turns out they just kinda couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.  I mean, I put the Raider's in squadron just so it didn't feel so greasy towards an army that I knew wouldn't have a huge amount of AT.  The jink rolls were downright insane but in 5 rounds of firing 3 assault cannons, only 1 shot got rending.  Ugh, it was a wonky game for dice.  I think the unexpected seize roll at the beginning of the game threw us both, it was kinda the herald of weird things to come. 

 

I think both of us assumed she took melta bombs on the Assault Squad, so when I saw the charge go through I was muttering, "Thaaaat's a dead Shoebox."  Then we looked it back up and realize none... absolutely none, the melta bombs went on the command squad and destroyers instead and left off of the assault squad to conserve points.  Absolutely the multi-melta-bombing is huuuge. Seeing that and how long the breacher's 5+ lasted, I think the 10 strong+combat shield and melta bomb option might be a pretty good one for Assault squads too. 

 

Melta bomb Assault Squads may be a new thing for me after seeing how much it could have swung things. 

Edited January 23, 2019 by Vykes