Narrative Battle Report 1 of the League

Last night was the first battle of the 40k league and unfortunately its lead me to the awful idea of doing narrative battle reports for my games in the league. So if you've run out of James Swallow books and need to fulfill your insatiable appetite for badly written fiction (is it fiction if its based on a something that really happened, albeit in game form???) read on...

It was Obsequious' Orks vs my Blood Angels.

Blood Angels List (1k):

Librarian  - Epistolary (sanguine sword, unleash rage), jump pack.

Sanguinary Priest  - Jump pack.

10 assault marines  - 2 x melta guns, powerfist.

10 assault marines  - 2 x melta guns, powerfist.

2 x landspeeders  - heavy flamers, multi-meltas.

1 Landspeeder  - heavy flamer, multi-melta.

1 Landspeeder  - heavy flamer, multi-melta.

Orks List (supposedly 1k):

Warboss  - bike, attack squig, power klaw.

3 x Nobs  - bikes, power klaw, big choppa, pain boy.

30 x Orks Boyz  - nob, powerklaw, boss pole.

30 x Orks Boyz  - nob, powerklaw, boss pole.

15 x lootas  - 3 x meks

We played 4 objectives, pretty evenly scattered and the Orks had the inestimable honour of going first. Here's how it went (in story form!!!1):

“Looking at the long-range geographical scans, I didn’t think that it would be this cold here,” said Blood Angel Assault Sergeant Valtorus, looking out over the desert planet’s dusk-lit dunes. He looked to Brother-Librarian Falco. Seeing the eerie blue-purple light flickering through his closed eye-lids, he was unsure if the acting-commander of the reconnaissance force had heard.

“We’ve met this planet at the far point of its elliptical orbit,” the psyker replied in a far off, dream-like voice. “Fear not though, Brother. The orks’ thirst for battle will take as little punishment from this world’s climate as ours. There will be blood spilt this night.”
The Sergeant felt a creeping sensation in his spine around the interface ports to his power armour, just as he always did when one of the chapter’s gifted ones said something that was heavy with prophecy. He didn’t dare to look at the Librarian again, but knew what he would see, regardless; Falco, straight backed and breathing evenly in order to keep his composure as he travelled whatever Emperor-forsaken paths he walked in the warp. All the while those unnatural lights in his eyes would glow and occasionally a minute fork of lightning would branch between the psychic-reactive contacts attached to his skull and the crystals lining his psychic hood.

In truth, Falco was uneasy on this eve of battle. Of two things he was certain; one, the orks were abroad and the inevitable conflict would see battle-brothers slain, two, the warp was unsettled and great whirlpools of dark energy were appearing everywhere. Right now Falco had to tread through the empyrean with great care to avoid them. When battle came, he was unsure how well he would be able to safeguard himself in the spirit-world and meet mortal, physical foes in the solid world at the same time.

He sensed the brave souls of his brothers around him and subtly reached out to them, whispering wordless images of the glory of their primarch and how the Emperor would watch their brave deeds this day with pride. In response he saw each of their warrior-spirits in the Empyrean flare with pride and he knew none of them would fail to fight with valour this day.

It was almost time. The co-ordinates had been set and Falco knew the ground that had to be secured at all costs. With a final prayer to the Emperor, he sent a command to his armour’s machine spirit and gunned his jump pack to life and the rest of the two assault squads accompanied him.

**********

Sanguinary Priest Soreign touched down on the near side of an abandoned, but otherwise functional Imperial landing pad. Somehow during the Orks’ overrunning of this world the pad had been undamaged by battle and untouched by looting, even the power for its homing beacons was still active. This ground, he knew, had to be taken if the Blood Angels were going to form an adequate staging area for their retaking of the lost Imperial planet.

All around him the two assault squads formed up and he heard Brother-Librarian Falco’s orders being responded to over the vox channel. Just as the last marine touched down, Falco’s super-enhanced vision picked out figures moving through the woods on the far side of the pad. Brutish, lumbering figures who discharged oily, high-caliber weapons into forest-dwelling wild life as they made their way through, seemingly just for the fun of it.

“Orks sighted,” he voxed across the network.

“I see them too,” replied Sergeant Zaphal of the second assault squad. “I make it, around thirty of them. Lightly armoured. Should be easy enough, even for you, Valtorus.”

“Maybe squad Zaphal would like the honour of making the first charge, show us how it’s done,” chuckled Valtorus in his baritone voice.

“There are more,” cut in Librarian Falco. “More than twice as many as we see here. I feel their brutish presence in the warp drawing near. They sense us too… be prepared to receive a charge soon… here they come!”

At that moment, more orks broke over the dunes, beside the dry-land forest and began to open fire with gigantic, rickety machine guns. They rattled out a huge volley of fire that showered the assault marines with shells. Three battle-brothers were hit, the heavy slugs, slamming with seemingly random accuracy into their breast plates and helms.

“Soreign?” Falco called out over the din of the orks’ weaponry.

“There’s nothing I can do,” the surgeon-priest called back. “They’re gone.”

“Then let them be avenged! Forward, brothers!” With that the astartes urged their jump packs to life and they hurtled forward, almost parallel to the ground in order to keep out of the Orks’ fire. Soreign and Falco stayed in formation with Valtorus as they made towards the heavy Ork gunners, while Zaphal lead his squad towards the Orks loping through the woods.

Just then the astartes heard the sound of engines revving and a black cloud of smoke rose in the distance as a number of monstrous looking bikes tore out of cover and made for the Blood Angels. Just as squad Valtorus touched down next to the ruined building, the bikers ripped around the corner, screaming savage cries at the marines, their crude blades and lightning wreathed mechanical claws, sparkling in the fading light of dusk.

At the last moment it seemed as if the bikers might charge Squad Zaphal, further away, but with an evil glint in his eyes, the warboss on his great chopper yanked the handlebars towards Squad Valtorus and charged straight at Falco with a brutish war cry on his slobbering lips and his power-klawed arm raised for the kill.

Seeing the half-ton of steel, fuel and anger bearing down on him, followed by his leviathan of a cohort, Falco gripped his blessed force sword tight in his grip. Words of prayer spilled from his lip as he drank deep of the empyrean’s chaotic energies and molded it within the forge of his mind. A moment later his mind reached out to each of his brothers and sought out that seed of rage and fury within each of them. He watched as each of them turned on their foes with bloodlust in their eyes. Falco himself stepped forward as the warboss bore down on him and with the sacred rites he’d learned decades ago he filled the weapon in his hand with power. The warboss ploughed forward but as he lunged with his unwieldly power klaw, Falco struck first. When his force weapon tasted the warboss’ flesh, it was not with a slice or thrust but with the impact of an artillery shell. The warbross exploded instantly, blood and gore splattering the Blood Angel’s already red armour.

As falco turned he saw one of the nob bikers use his own power claw to tear one of the Blood Angels in two. Despite their hatred of their enemy, the assault marines could not bring a telling blow to bear on the bikers. It was then that Sergeant Valtorus stepped forward and crushed the skull of one the biker’s with his powerfist. No sooner had this occurred than the surgeon-like ork mounted on one of the bikes jabbed a space marine through the weak armour joint around his neck with a vile looking syringe. The marine’s armour was no protection and the ork pressed down on the plunger, injecting a vile green-black concoction into the marine. Despite his resilient astartes physique, the marine started to jerk and spasm wildly and the ork physician grinned evilly at his chosen patient. At that moment, Valtorus leaped across the swirling melee and repeated his performance, his powerfist forcing the ork’s internal organs to explode out the back of his torso. The astartes who had been injected fell to the floor limply and apothecary Soreign rushed to his aid, hastily injecting counter-acting agents that just managed to save the fallen marine from falling into a coma.

The last remaining biker looked on the desiccated remains of his fellows and turned his bike to flee, only to have the rest of the Blood Angels descend on him and tear him from the saddle. The bikers had been destroyed in exchange for the life of only a single marine lost, though the Emperor would still grieve for it. Squad Valtorus regrouped with Zaphal in time to meet the wave of orks coming through the woods.

“I see you didn’t need any help” Zaphal commented wryly.

“None at all,” Valtorus replied, flicking the last chunks of ork skull from his powerfist. “Still, I thought you were going to show us how it’s done.”

“With pleasure,” said Zaphal gesturing to the horde of orks emerging from the forest to meet them. “Shall we?” Valtorus simply nodded and once more they gave their jump packs thrust.

**********

The astartes’ assault swept over the greenskins in a wave of sawing chain blades and roaring voices. The sanguinary priest held his Blood Chalice high as he charged and the psychic aura that emanated from the holy blood within it fired the Angels’ blood in a way few other loyalist space marines could understand. They hit the ground running and with rage filled bloodshot eyes they hacked and cut at their foes with immeasurable satisfaction. Seeing that this alone would not be enough, Falco dipped into the warp once more, but despite his caution of using only a portion of his potential power as an epistolary, his fears were realized. The shifting currents in the warp caught him and ripped and tore at his spirit. His consciousness resurfaced in the physical world visibly shaken and it was with wearied limbs that he struck at the orks. Still, the sacrifice bought with part of his soul was worth it and the Blood Angels soon stood amongst a field of greenskin corpses.

“The day is won!” One of the younger marines from Squad Zaphal cried joyously.

“Not yet,” Soreign said, shaking his head and pointing towards the heavily armed support squad that had taken the lives of their brothers minutes earlier. “Onwards, my brethren. Let them feel righteousness.” They swept on and soon these orks too lay in tatters but not soon enough. The Blood Angels assaults were tiring now from the number of enemies they had had to face and Valtorus’ men kicked the last of the heavy-weapon orks to the ground. It was then that Falco realized what was happening. From over a mound of stone, the foundation for some demolished building, came another horde of orks, just as large as the first infantry mob they had destroyed. But this time the orks were charging the astartes who were already wearied and had lost some of their number. What was more, Squad Valtorus and Zaphal were separated and Valtorus would surely be hard pressed not to be swept away by the green tide. As the first greenskins reached them, Falco reached out into the warp and found himself surrounded on all sides by warp-flux anomalies. There was no way to draw power from the sea of souls without risking damnation.

He cast one more glance at his brothers, Valtorus bracing against the impact of the greenskins’ attack, Soreign rising above the melee like an avenging angel, the battered but determined members of squad Valtorus… and then opened the gates of his mind and let the warp energy flow through him. As the greenskins came into range, the Blood Angels raised their blades defiantly, suddenly strengthened by an unseen force. Valtorus looked back and saw Falco, his form flickering in and out of this world, his whole body crackling in purple lightning.

“Fight on, brothers! Honour and duty!” Were his last words before, with a thunderclap and a flash of lightning that rippled out across the battlefield, he exploded into shards of light. Falco was gone and the strike force was in jeopardy. At that moment Valtorus’ vox crackled and a squadron of landspeeders reported that they were in-bound to support them but Valtorus knew there was no way they would get there in time. Victory could only be won now through a desperate face-to-face struggle with their foes.

“This is where we make our stand, brothers!” He yelled over the battle as he flailed at the greenskins with his powerfist. As the last orks to join the fray joined their kindred and piled into the Space Marines, the sun finally set, pitching the Space Marines into darkness.

***********

The ensuing battle was raw and messy. Despite seeing their fellows summarily destroyed, the orks fought on like zealots. One by one the space marines fell and failed to take anywhere near enough orks with them to hell. Squad Zaphal also pitched themselves into the melee but were just as hard pressed. Finally Apothecary Soreign, caught right in the eye of the storm met his end when the ork nob tore him in half with his powerklaw.

When the dust settled, there was less than half of squad Valtorus and Zaphal left and the landspeeders who had been so delayed arrived just in time to see the bloody toll that the Blood Angels had wrought with the sacrifice of their most revered heroes.

In the end it was a win for the Blood Angels. Obseqious made the only token effort out of either of us to hold an objective but, as it should always be with Orks vs Blood Angels, it devolved into a massive punch up. The Blood Angels started off good killing the ork warboss and so on, but later Piers called Waaagh! with his remaining squad, catching me out in the open. The combat went on for several rounds, but despite having a bunch of advantages the marines started failing to kill the orks miserably as my dice betrayed me and he took down quite a few guys. The librarian killed himself by getting perils twice (even though I only used 2 powers in a single turn once during the whole game). The real risk came in when it started to look like the orks wouldnt wipe all the marines but the marines wouldn't wipe the orks either, meaning no objectives would be capped and it'd be a draw! Luckily, right at the end the marines finally woke the f*&% up and killed off the orks. Close!