"Sacrifices" - An Apocalypse Narrative Part 3


Prologue Part 1  Part 2

Rules used for this battle are here: Apocalypse Custom rules; these were modified slightly ingame for 'balance'
Techmarine Epathus
"Epathus! Continue current pathing at maximum possible speed!" The vox barked into life as Korvydae's orders could be heard roaring through his helmet. Epathus, seated at the controls of the mighty Deliverance had the machine spirit using all its available resources to maintain course. Enemy fire was incoming from all directions and the tactical grid now showed that the Orks were not their only cause for concern. The Night Hawks had joined the fray. Renowned for their prowess on the war bike and their reverence of the Omnissiah, Epathus felt a deep regret that they were enemies today.

A sudden vibration could be felt deep within the tread of the might war machine. The voice of one his most honoured brethren could be heard on the other end, "Shadow Captain, reinforcement has arrived. Deploying as per your orders."

"Well done Altarion. Take fire positions and prepare to support Deliverance as we make our way to the Imperial Guard haven." Korvydae cut the link. Epathus knew, as did all the Ravens here, that a legend had come, barrelling planet side in his drop pod, Altarion was a fearsome warrior. A Sternguard sergeant without equal. Epathus had witnessed Altarion at the bolter range within the Ravenspire once. Altarion cleared the range within seconds, boltgun in hand, to set a record that still stood after decades. A prodigy of Torias Telion of the Ultramarines, if Altarion had come then that could only mean that the second pod had also arrived. That would be Squad Areli, their long range Devastator support. Things were getting interesting. He was shocked out of his reverie by the impact of several salvoes of fire from the Night Hawks. Deliverance would hold, the Emperor protects...but some smoke never hurt either. Epathus executed the command to deploy a smokescreen behind them, covering their tracks. He looked to the rear, the interior of the Land Raider glowed an intense red, but even more so was the five pairs of glowing blue eyes staring back at him, emotionless, silent, and unwavering.

Shadow Captain Korvydae
"Teldris, the Ork scum are surging quickly from your flank. Prepare to re-route and intercept. Take position on the high ridge and when they enter the valley descend from above. We must ensure that Deliverance reaches its target." The war zone whirled around him, massive amounts of information bombarded him at once, and he calmly reached into his mind, sorting, organizing, and bringing the optimum strategy in response to each and every individual piece of information.

Korvydae turned to the east, he added a way point for his the Assault Marines gathered around him and blinked clicked it to active. Firing their jump packs as one, he soared through the air, the black of their armor giving the appearance of a murder of ravens taking flight, he spied their prey below, a group of Orks had found their way through his rearguard. His squad so far had been picking off the excess but he knew they would soon have them in. The way forward was clear, and the Guard had begun their relentless shelling of the Orks and Night Hawks. Communication with the latter had been near impossible, a strange interference had disabled communication to the Ravens only, but the Hawks had struck first, perhaps taken by some malady he was not aware of. He would not jeopardize their mission. The Inquisitor was their only priority. Bolt pistol fire surrounded him as his mates launched round after round from the sky, a preliminary strike before the real battle. Slamming into the ground with the force of a thunderclap, the Orks were knocked off their feet. Korvydae brought his Thunderhammer round for a wide sweep, its magnificent energies crackling as it tore through orks, decapitating several and spilling the inards of the rest. The resulting shock wave blew more Orks backward. His marines cut down the rest, a small war band to say the least.

Gunnery Crewman William
The Comissar is pleased :)
William didn't know what to expect. Then what is there to expect but death when one joins the largest fighting force in the Imperium. He had gone deaf long ago, his station at the long range guns seeing to that. Now he resorted to signing his intention with his hands. His face hidden behind a kerchief stained with oil and dust, was unreadable. He kept a straight face despite what he had seen. The Orks were nothing new. He had battled Tyranid, Necrons, and worse beyond the stars. Somehow by the good graces of the Emperor he still lived and breathed. He looked to the sky, a torrent of tracer fire tore through the air from both sides. The large drop pods of the Astartes had brought cheers and shouts from the men around him, but he maintained his silent vigil near his gun. It's moniker on the side had lost its painted lustre and the words The Big Chief had all but worn off. As if in answer to his thought, the gun let loose another deadly salvo, destroying earth around its mounts.

"Correct to coordinates Theta 0.05 M43." The target relay officer called. William began to make the necessary adjustments and prepare the gun for its next round. He allowed himself another moment to daydream of the events the night before. It had all been fun and games then, lho sticks outside the local bar, where they served only the worst drink this side of Terra. The women had been ugly, the prices too high for their company, and to top it all off he and his crew had managed to urinate off a tall building directly onto an officer below, he needed a shower anyway. But then something snapped him back to reality, something he had never seen before...holes were opening in the air in front of the fortress, holes highlighted with sickening green and bluish purple tones. And from those holes came howls of not terror, howls of glee, howls of predators.

Forward Spotter Conrad
"I don't know what I'm seeing Comissar. Holes are being torn in air around us, and the sound...the sound.." Conrad had spotted the various anomalies on his magnoculars shortly before the auspexes had registered their existence. "What is it...?", he hissed. The hairs on the back of his neck and hands stood tall,, as though a field of static electricity surrounded the air.

"Report Spotter!", Deimos was not pleased, then again, he never was.

"Something is coming out...it looks like...flies sir. Like a sea of black, flies surrounded by noxious fumes. And something else...sir! Sir it's the Grim Reaper come for us!!" From the holes stepped giants, and creatures from the warp that had manifested in realspace. And at their head came the most disgusting of champions. A voice bellowed forth, a voice that froze Conrad in place, and forced him to void his bowels of anything that was left within them.

"I AM TYPHUS!!!! CHAMPION OF THE GREAT DEMON LORD NURGLE!! BY THE SETTING OF THE SUN YOUR CORPSES WILL ROT!!" A great guttural laughter spread forth, accompanied by the shrieking of hundreds of demons, and the monotonous stomp of footfalls from the Chaos Marines that joined him. Conrad knew this was something unlike they had ever faced before, and that things were going to get worse before they got better.

Sergeant Alterion
"Shadow Captain! Enemy Chaos has struck deep within the perimeter. Preparing to engage and destroy." Alterion gave the command for his squad to form up. His plasma cannons taking the vanguard. As their coils unleashed a blinding star of energy, his visor auto compensated for the intensity. He sighted along his bolter and drew a deep breath, the unleashed his fury upon the new enemy. His brothers joined him and their fire tore into the demons. Some fell, others simply shrugged off the rounds. He calmly activated his squad vox, "Switch to Hellfire Rounds."
He reached into his ammo store and loaded a fresh clip of the poisoned rounds, rounds with which he had felled the foul denizens of Nurgle before. Their affliction made them tougher than most, but the Hellfire rounds would level the playing field. He dropped to one knee and began firing, every round found its mark within the skull of a traitor marine, and he had felled half a dozen in moments. He gave no quarter and held fast. To his right, a group of gibbering, festering creatures lumbered towards him. He turned and fired, standing and bracing the boltgun to his shoulder. It was an extension of his will, a manifestation of the Emperor's fury, and he was its prophet. The creatures fell slowly, some standing again or shrugging of wounds that would have killed a lesser enemy. Roiling balls of plasma landed amongst them and burnt many where they stood but they kept surging forward. Suddenly a blistering amount of fire tore into them, fist sized bolt shells pounded them mercilessly, tearing holes into them too large to survive from.

"Alterion, it looks like you could use relief brother."

"Areli, still alive? A pity they never made it any closer, before I could truly exercise the Emperor's will."

"Any closer Alterion and you could smell their foul breath. We have been re-directed to the gatehouse Alterion, you and the Thunderfires are to hold here alone. Good hunting friend. Precision over Power."

"Precision over Power", canted Alterion. The battle had changed wildly with the newcomers landing directly in the path of Deliverance and overheard flew Chaos Marines while on the ground ahead, strode their terminator armored brothers, this would not be over as quickly as originally surmised.
Compiled by my friend at http://stalkingamongshadows.blogspot.ca/